#(Even if it's in my head to someone overstaying their welcome)

[lovelivision]

TEMPORARY

pairing: gojo satoru/reader

wc: 5.2k

summary: your close friend gojo is kind enough to let you stay with him for a while, it's just a shame that he's overly curious about what you read when he's not home

a/n; gojo is nosy and i stand by that, also, i can't seem to help myself when it comes to him... this was only meant to be 2k but i think i like him a little too much. that or he just yaps a lot

warnings: 18+ only, smut, pwp, dirty talk, fingering, tease!gojo, hickeys, p in v sex, clit slapping (once), creampie, afab!reader, no use of pronouns or y/n, big dick gojo, gojo likes embarrassing reader

MDNI | SMUT UNDER CUT

Somehow, you’ve ended up in Gojo’s fancy apartment… the ‘somehow’ is, he is one of your closest friends and the only person you could ask for help. It had already been a long day when you came home to a hole in your ceiling and a bath – that isn’t yours but the floors above – in your apartment, you wanted to give up on life. Your apartment was wet and some of your stuff had water damage.

Maybe if you weren’t so distraught and just wanting somewhere to stay, you would’ve asked someone else but you decided to call Gojo and while he was more than happy to accommodate you, temporary living with him has been… troublesome.

It’s not so much as what he’s been doing but how you’re feeling, you feel self-conscious and too aware of yourself. Constantly wondering if it’s okay that you’re here, that you’re sitting on his couch or using his kitchen. He goes away for days at a time and yet you still worry about whether or not it’s okay you’re here.

You don’t bug him too much with it, you know that can get annoying, asking for constant reassurance but you’re worried that you’re overstaying your welcome. Especially when your building manager keeps calling and telling you fixes will take longer than expected. At this rate, you might just have to live elsewhere.

Another call like that had just come in and when you walk back into the living room and plonk down on the couch next to Gojo, he can immediately tell you’re feeling disheartened, “Not ready yet?”

“I don’t even know if they’ve started yet,” you sigh, kicking your feet a little in your frustration, “I’m really sorry, Gojo,” you lean back into the couch more, head resting on the back of it.

“I’m not worried about it,” he hums, crossed leg bouncing slightly, “Stay as long as you like, it’s nice having someone here when I come home,” he leans his head back on the couch too but turns to look at you.

Turning your head, you meet his gaze, “Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome,” your brows pull together, “I can always find another place to stay, honestly, I won’t be offended if you’re sick of me… I don’t want to inconvenience you.”

He scoffs, “What inconvenience? You barely make a mess and move around the place like it’s made of glass,” he’s making fun of you a little, trying to get you to relax more, “You should chill out and get a bit more comfortable, it seems like you might be here for a while yet,” he shrugs easily, not at all worried about you staying.

You intake a breath, “Yeah but I–”

“–Plus, where else would you stay? I’m like… your only friend,” he snickers.

Frowning at him, you defend, “That’s not true and you know it!”

“Yeah? Then why was I your first call?” He’s smug.

Looking away, you mumble, “You have no way of knowing that.”

“Ah, but I think your reaction gave it away,” he chuckles, poking your cheek with his finger.

“I wonder if it’s too late to ask Shoko for her couch,” you grumble, ignoring him.

“Nooo~” he pouts, “Don’t leave, you’re such a good guest, I’m sorry for saying you have no friends.”

You roll your eyes at him, “Do you ever get tired of yourself,” you ask, side-eyeing him.

He smiles big, “Never.”

If Gojo were being honest with you, he’d admit he likes your company, he likes coming home and hearing you patter around his apartment, and he likes that you trusted him enough to call him when you needed help. He likes that he was the first person you called because he wants you to rely on him, he wants to feel wanted and needed by you. It’s just a shame a bathtub had to fall through your ceiling for it to happen.

He's not even mad that your building manager is downright atrocious at his job because that just means he gets to have more time with you.

⸝⸝⸝

You’re in his home… alone, just for tonight. Gojo said he had ‘super important and super-secret’ things to attend to, so you’re choosing to be scandalous and instead of reading your current novel in your room, you’re reading it on the couch.

Under a blanket and snuggled into Gojo’s nice couch is about as close to comfortable as you get these days. His living room is nice and you like it out here, though you tend to shy away from main areas when he’s home, afraid of disturbing his peace.

The book is in depth, the scenes heating up quickly, you quietly read, flicking the pages slowly, savouring the tension. It’s not often that you read stuff like this but you’re getting invested, finding a good book with plot and porn is hard to come by and you’re finding yourself getting more and more invested.

Gojo’s voice from behind you is a scare you weren’t ready for, “Wouldn’t it feel better to actually get fucked instead of just reading about it?”

“Fuck! Geez, Gojo, way to scare someone to death,” you huff, not at all ready for his comparably loud voice in the quiet room.

He’s leaning over the back of the couch, apparently reading over your shoulder, “Didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Yeah, that’s why you were lurking behind me for so long… because you didn’t mean to scare me,” you crane your neck to look up at him, your eyes showing your clear scepticism.

“Let’s change the topic back to how you’re reading porn out in the open,” he smiles.

You squint at him, “It’s a sex scene, not a porn book.”

He leans in a little closer, “Could’ve fooled me.”

“You’re nosy,” you accuse.

He clarifies, “I am curious.” He adds, “You were so involved in your book that you didn’t even notice my presence… now I know why,” his eyebrows wiggle at you.

You shoot your head back up so you don’t have to look at him, “Why are you back anyways? I thought you weren’t gonna be home until tomorrow?”

“I’m just simply too good,” he boasts. You grumble at him but pick up your blanket and stomp off to the spare room with your book, he calls out to you, “Don’t be like that, come hang out with me.”

“No,” you cement, feeling overly embarrassed. You know he was just kidding but you can’t help the way your skin feels all hot and the bit of shame that creeps into your bones.

⸝⸝⸝

When you’re in bed, you don’t continue reading, the moment ruined and now you just want to crawl into a ball and die. It’s too early to sleep though, so you end up just lying there lifelessly. Some time passes before Gojo knocks on your door, waiting for you to answer to see if you’re still awake.

“Go away,” you pout out. He opens the door at the sound of your voice, “That’s like… the exact opposite of going away.”

“I know,” he shuffles over to the bed and flops down next to you, making himself comfortable, “But I wanna talk about earlier.”

You groan, “Ugh, that’s like the last thing I wanna talk about with you right now.”

“You sure? Because there are plenty of other things I could think to talk about instead,” he smiles evilly, he sits up slightly, resting his weight on his forearm to watch over you.

Flat on your back, you scowl up at him, “Maybe we should talk about how lovely the weather has been lately.”

“It’s been raining for a week straight,” he reminds.

You cross your arms over your chest, “…Maybe I like the rain.”

“I am sorry,” he changes the topic.

“It doesn’t matter,” you try brushing it off.

“I made you uncomfortable and I didn’t mean to,” he looks away in thought, “I wasn’t trying to pry, I just wanted to know what you were so interested in and when I saw–”

“–Okay! It’s fine, I’m not mad.”

“It would be understandable if you were,” he flops onto his back again.

You turn to look at him, “If you’re still feeling bad, make me breakfast in the morning.”

“Look at that! I think all the guilt I had just left my body,” he smiles cheekily, also turning to look at you.

You can’t help the way your eyes drop to his lips, just for a second, you didn’t mean anything by it… you think. Gojo sees it because of course he does, he doesn’t miss a single thing and he decides to push the limits of your friendship, just a little bit.

He speaks again, “You know… I am curious about something though.”

Unamused, you raise a brow, “Oh yeah? And what’s that?”

“Does it do anything? I mean… reading porn like that? Does it actually effect you?” He knows what he’s doing and he knows the answer to his question, he’s not as dense as he pretends he is.

“Invasive question,” you squint at him before letting your face relax, “I can always read it to you and you can see for yourself,” you joke.

His smile grows, “Fantastic idea!”

Your eyes widen, “No! No it’s not! I was kidding, I’m not reading porn to you Gojo.”

“Boo,” he jeers.

“You’re so weird,” you sigh.

He offers you an alternative, “I’ll settle for an answer to my question if you don’t want to read me porn.”

This man is getting on your nerves, “Who would want to do that in the first place?”

“Me, I will read porn to you right now if you like,” he offers.

“Okay let me rephrase, what kind of sane person would want that?” You’re hoping to guide him away from this topic.

“Ouch, words hurt,” you can see his face light up with his joke, “And arouse, apparently.”

“What do you mean apparently?” You ask, “I haven’t even answered your question, very presumptuous of you.”

“Yeah but if the answer was a simple ‘no’ you would’ve just said that and moved on,” he looks proud of himself right now, “Sometimes… not giving an answer is almost as telling as giving one.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you move your head to face the ceiling again, “Get a load of Socrates over here.” You sigh, “What do you want to hear? That it does arouse me, that I get sooo wet reading porn on your couch while you’re gone?”

He’s quiet, at a loss for words really, which is shocking to you. His prolonged silence has you looking back to him. His eyes look a little darker than before, his gaze far away. You’re starting to feel bad, like maybe you’re the one who took it too far now, “Gojo, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to make you–”

“–No… go on,” he encourages, “Tell me all about what you do when I’m not home,” his eyes glimmer.

“I– nothing really– I’m not…” you’re starting to heat up, his gaze on you not helping, “I’m not being creepy while you’re gone…”

“I didn’t say you were being creepy,” he moves so he’s being supported by his forearm again, your eyes follow him as he ends up almost hovering over you, “I said I wanted to know what else you do when I’m not home.”

You hesitate, “This might not be–”

“You don’t have to tell me, if I’m being pushy, if you’re uncomfortable… tell me, I’ll leave you alone,” he wants this bad but he’s not going to force you, he wants you to want it too.

“It’s not… I am uncomfortable but only because,” your thighs press together slightly, seeking pressure, you’re uncomfortable because he’s turning you on and he’s not done a damn thing.

“…Because…”

“Ugh, Gojo,” your hands cover your face, trying to hide yourself from his eyes, “Because you’re…” you mumble, trailing off.

He leans in a little closer, smug smile loud in his voice, “I’m sorry, what?”

You peak through your fingers, “…You’re…turning me on…”

“I still didn’t get that,” he feigns ignorance, he heard you just fine, “Maybe move your hands properly?”

“You’re being mean,” you mutter from behind your hands, “I know you heard me.”

His gaze lowers, scanning your body, taking in how your breathing has sped up, how your thighs clench together, fighting the urge to rub against each other. “No idea what you’re on about, I can’t hear a thing from behind your hands.”

You drop your arms with a huff, “You’re really quite unkind, you know?”

“I think I’m perfectly kind,” his tone is jovial, happy with your acquiescence, “Now repeat what you said, I wanna hear it loud and clear.”

You’re gonna hit him, you wanna hit him. Taking a breath, your hands reach out for his face and move him so he’s looking you dead in the eyes, “Gojo… you’re making me really wet and needy,” your tone is coquettish, “I need your help, please.”

His eyes brighten, deliciously satisfied with your words and confession, “Tell me what you do when I’m not here then.”

You stare at him, you thought you had one up him but he readjusts alarmingly well, you’ll just have to double down, “I lay on your nice, big couch and I fingerfuck myself, hoping I get to cum before you get home.”

“I already like coming home to you,” he leans into you, his lips brushing the shell of your ear, “I think I’d like coming home to the sounds of you playing with your wet cunt even more.”

Oh god, he might kill you, he’s clearly much better at this than you are, his words have your eyes glazing over slightly. Just his presence is suffocating, “Gojo, please… touch me?”

He pulls back, “Hmm, giving up already? Where’s your fighting spirit?”

“You’re an unbearable tease…”

“Tease… yes. Unbearable? I don’t agree, you’ve put up with me for this long,” he all but singsongs, he’s so smug – you want to get up and walk away from him but you don’t have the strength.

“Either kiss me or I’m changing my mind and pretending that tonight didn’t happen,” you glare at him.

His smile doesn’t falter, “Now who’s unkind?” You make a show of trying to get up but he pushes you back down into the mattress, his lips finding yours. You moan into his kiss and he huffs against you, “Open your mouth more,” he speaks against you.

You do as he says and his tongue slips into your mouth, he licks at you and you tentatively meet him half-way. If kissing someone felt this good surely you’d have remembered it, so why can’t you remember a single kiss that feels as good as this one.

He crawls onto you more, your hands move to find his shoulders before wrapping around his neck, tugging him closer. He groans into the kiss and you swallow it down, your head is swimming, he sounds hot, he feels hot, he’s making you feel hot.

He pulls back, “Fuck, I gotta touch you, let me touch you.”

“Mhm, yeah, please,” you’re all too eager to agree, not missing the thinly veiled desperation in his words.

His hand is quick to snake down your body and into your pants, slipping past the waist band of your underwear. A shiver runs down your spine as his fingers carefully part your folds and slide through you’re very wet cunt. Gojo groans, he wasn’t expecting you to be this aroused, his head swimming with just how slick it must feel to fuck balls deep inside your pussy.

His dick twitches in his pants, he’s been horny since he started this stupid conversation, not that you noticed, too self-conscious to take note of the semi he’d been sporting while teasing you. Fuck, he needs more, his finger moves to your entrance, his eyes watching your expression carefully as he slips it inside you.

Your brows turn up and a soft sigh leaves your lungs at his finger entering you, he doesn’t move straight away, his thumb instead rubbing into your clit. He can feel the way your walls twitch around his single digit; he might go crazy before this is over.

“Gojo~ more,” you want more, you wanna feel full.

“Anything for you,” he teases but pulls his single finger back, easing in another with it.

They curl when reaching their hilt, caressing inside you, the pleasure makes you whine and your stomach jump. He pumps his fingers languidly, enjoying the view, delighting in how you squirm and whimper underneath him from just a couple fingers.

He looks down to his hand underneath your pants, your thighs shake slightly, “That’s cute,” he murmurs.

He pulls his hand away from you, “Wait– Gojo what are–”

Laughing at how frantic you are, he reassures, “–Shh, it’s fine, I just wanna see how your pretty pussy sucks my fingers back in is all.”

You feel like you could faint, he’s so crude and for what reason? Just to embarrass you? Or to turn you on? Or is it just a bonus that he manages to do both at the same time?

Your pants and underwear are tugged off at once, he kneels between your legs and very lewdly pulls them wide apart, his eyes greedily watching the way your cunt opens up for him. He salivates at the way your pussy glimmers for him, cunt drooling from your tight hole, down your ass cheeks and onto the bed.

He wastes no more time and fills you back up with his long fingers, his mind registering that you got wetter, fuck you can get even wetter. The realisation hits him like a ton of bricks and he has a feeling he knows exactly what did it.  

A grin on his face, he asks, “You know you could get this wet? Or are you shocked?” It’s not rhetorical, and to demonstrate what he means, his fingers speed up and you can hear the loud and obscene noises of your wet cunt sucking them back in.

You clench around his fingers at his words and his smile grows, now fully understanding the effect he has on you. The delight he takes in it could almost be diabolical, the enjoyment he’s getting out of knowing he can be a little mean or lewd with his words and it will only turn you is immense.

“Come on, I want an answer when I ask a question,” he reminds you.

You gasp as his fingers crook up, purposefully making it harder for you to answer, “I –hah– I didn’t knooww–”

And you didn’t, not to this extent, it’s mortifying, how much your cunt gushes for him. You’re ashamed and also… so ridiculously turned on. His voice doesn’t help, not only the content of his words but just the sound of him, it’s setting you on edge.

“I find that quite shocking, only realising just how turned on you can get and it’s for your good friend? How scandalous,” he tsks at you, his words holding no malice, he truly is amused by how things have unfolded.

“Stop t–teasing me, Gojo,” you frown at him but it’s not nearly as effective as it normally would be. To him you look like a cute mess who’s making a mess on his fingers and spare bed sheets.

His thumb presses into your clit again, steady pressure rounding it, “I like teasing you though~”

Your head tilts back, your eyes unable to focus on anything, you’re going to cum, you’re so fucking close, you just need him to not stop, “Gojo, please, d–don’t stop –ngh– please, please, please please pleaseppleaseplease,” you’re begging him to show mercy – pity, you don’t care what you just want him to make you cum.

“You think I’d be so mean as to not let you cum?” he asks like it’s not definitely within his character to do something so cruel, “I’d never deprive myself of the sight.”

Your toes curl and your head presses back into the pillows hard, your eyes rolling into the back of your head. It feels like your stomach does flips as you moan out for Gojo, your hands clutching the sheets as you shake pitifully with the force of your orgasm.

He massages your walls through it, fucking his fingers in and out of you steadily, letting you ride out your high. He keeps going even as you reach overstimulation, he likes seeing you twitch and shake with your sensitivity, makes his cock leak into his pants at how you clench pathetically around his fingers as he strokes in and out of you as he pleases.

“Gojo… is too much,” you mumble weakly.

He hums at you but pulls his fingers from your sopping cunt, he holds his two fingers up and pulls them apart, watching the way your cum coats them and connects them by sticky strings. Fuck it’s a sight to behold to him, he shoves those two fingers right into his mouth, sucking them clean and savouring the taste.

Pulling his digits out of his mouth, he comments, “I think… if I didn’t wanna stick my dick into you as badly as I do… I’d shove my tongue inside your little pussy and eat you until you came again and again and–”

You’re gonna burst into flames, “–Do you get off on your own words or something?”

“I’m not the one getting off on my words,” he grins knowingly.

The words you were going to retort with die on your tongue as he suddenly tugs his shirt off, exposing his bare skin to you. How are you meant to reply with anything smart when he’s constantly able to throw you off kilter, you can’t win against him.

He undoes his belt and nods towards you, “Take your shirt off.”

“…Bossy,” you pout out.

He stands up to undress completely, “You into that?”

“No.”

“Could’ve fooled me, you take directions so well,” he smirks, clearly poking fun at how you took off your shirt as soon as he asked you to. He gets back on the bed and taps your thigh, “Hands and knees,” you look at him with an unamused expression and he tacks on, “Pleeeasseeee?”

You get up and spin round onto your hands and knees, feeling vulnerable like this, extra so because you can’t see what he’s doing. One of his hands slides from your lower back up your spine, gentle pressure behind his touch, encouraging you to push your upper half into the bed, cheek pressed against the mattress by the time he reaches your neck.

“Yeahhh, you take directions so well,” he means it as a compliment but it feels degrading.

Soft clicking noises of him fisting his cock fill the room, he’s spreading his precum all along the shaft, collecting it at the tip. He needs to be slick if you’re gonna take him, though he figures you’ve done most of the work on that end already.

You wiggle your hips back at him, feeling impatient and dazed from your previous orgasm. He chuckles at your eagerness but doesn’t keep you waiting, you’re far too enticing for him to tease any longer. He swipes his dick through your folds a few times first, letting you feel him and also let your cunt drool onto him a bit.

He wants to slam into you quickly, he’s so sick of waiting, he’s harder than he’s been in his life and he’s itching to have your pussy swallow him whole but he doesn’t want to hurt you. If he fucks this up he’ll never forgive himself, he needs to give you the best dicking of your life so that you keep coming back to him for more.

His initial thrust is shallow and barely gets the head of his cock inside you, this is going to be a slow process. He’ll have to take his time, not that he particularly minds, the longer he takes, the longer he gets to spend fucking you. This is a responsible decision on Gojo’s behalf, unfortunately for him, you’re not quite so patient. You’re horny beyond belief and have the sudden urge for him to be as deep as he can possibly get, you want to feel him in your guts, you fucking need it.

Bracing yourself, you spread your legs apart further and push back, his cock slipping deeper suddenly, the stretch has a delicious feeling crawling up your spine, or maybe that’s Gojo’s hand. His hand reaches around your neck and pulls your back to his front, a whimper tumbling from you as you slide down his cock further.

He breathes against you, “Desperate thing aren’t you?” He nips your ear and then trails his lips down to your neck, leaving marks in his wake.  

His hips thrust up, forcing you to take more of him, “Ah~ sorry.”

“Don’t be sorry~ I think it’s very endearing,” his voice is dreamy, “Very flattering, willing to hurt yourself just to take me?”

Ah, of course he’d find a way to boost his own ego through all this, “–ngh– You really do love yourself, huh?”

You can feel his big smile against your skin, “Not as much as I love this pussy,” he thrusts inside you deeper, punctuating his words with his hips.

You can’t do much else but moan and take it like this, though, you’re pretty happy to take it like this. Your slick gushes from your cunt and leaks down his shaft. The mess you’re making on the bed is beyond lewd and you have no idea if you should be more embarrassed of the state you’re in. You’re not here though, you’re elsewhere, head in the clouds as your eyes glaze over.

“Aww~ you’ve gone stupid and I’m not even fully in yet,” he coos at you.

He drops you back down onto the bed in your previous position, face buried into the blankets with your ass in the air, back arched deeply. Gojo thinks he has enough room to slip in completely now so he does, when he does, he knocks something so deep inside you that your cunt quivers and you make the smallest, fucked out sound.

It makes him moan deeply, your pussy gripping him for dear life as you sound out gasped whimpers, you’re a fucking mess in more than one way and he’s gonna paint your walls white before too long if he doesn’t get it together. Your cunt is sinfully tight, snug and warm around him, spilling out around where he’s stuffed you full. Your eyes are glassy and fucked out and you look like you might cry, drool dribbles from the corner of your mouth from how deep you can feel him.

Tentatively, he pulls back, his thrusts initially shallow, wanting to get you used to the motion, you really are not capable of any coherent thought, everything coming from you right now is downright pornographic, you don’t even think you could string together enough words to beg him to let you cum.

He’s ruining any future sex you may have and he’s barely started fucking you, his rhythm, is slow but constant. The pressure you feel slowly building in your abdomen makes your pussy cry on his cock.

“You literally have–” he cuts himself off with his own gasped whine, “–the most perfect cunt, holy fuck.” What he did in life to deserve sticking his dick inside you, he has no clue but he’ll keep doing it if it means fucking your tight hole.

You chant his name at him, it’s all you’re really able to do, in your brain fog you spill out, “S’toru sobig, you’re –hng– so deep~” You can’t think.

His hands grab your hips tight, the pressure bruising, his thrusts are speeding up, growing frantic, desperate. He’s fucking you like it’ll be the last time he ever gets to be inside you. One hand reaches around and lands on your clit, furiously rubbing at it, the stimulation has you biting back a cry as tears slip from the corner of your eyes.

Your pussy spasms and twitches on him violently, you’re so sensitive, in general and to him. His hand pulls you back against him with every thrust in, the resounding smacking of skin on skin and your sloppy cunt are like music to his ears. You’re so messy, such a beautiful and delightful mess, he wonders just how fucking messy he could make you; he’ll need to remember this thought if he ever gets another chance to have you… though he’s probably never going to be able to think of anything else after this.

The muscles in your legs are quivering, you’re not going to be able to hold yourself up for much longer, not with how he’s fucking you. You’re going to cum and then promptly pass out, your vision is dotted and you’re barely able to comprehend your surroundings, the only thing you hear is Gojo’s moans.

“Need you to cum for me, now,” he urges, his words hissed through his teeth, fighting off his own orgasm.

His fingers on your clit speed up, he slaps your clit once and harshly, the sudden contact makes you shake. Your orgasm comes out of nowhere, your legs would’ve given out if he weren’t holding you up, you’re actually just crying now, the force of your orgasm shaking you to your core, it’s so overwhelming that it’s all you can feel.

Gojo moves both his hands to your ass cheeks and spreads them, looking at how he’s plowing into you over and over, watching how you grip him tight, trying to milk his cock. The sight of this, of your pussy clenching around him, has him cumming, he bites out your name before stuffing his dick all the way inside you. His cum dumping itself deep inside, his cock twitching as he spills. The amount he cums is immense, leaking out around the base of him and down onto the sheets, the mess you’ve both made only growing.

He stays seated inside you for a while, letting you both come down before even attempting to move. When he does slip out of you, it’s with a hiss, he holds you up for a bit longer, watching the way his cum seeps out of you, his eyes transfixed on how much he came inside of you, how much of him you took. He’s addicted.

Laying your lower half back onto the bed gently, he flops down next to you, evening out his breathing more. He turns his head to the side to look at you, your eyes closed and a stupid smile on your face, tear stains on your cheeks and a little bit of drool still present in the corner of your mouth.

He reaches out and wipes it way with his thumb, “Fucked dumb taken to a new level, huh?”

“You’ve ruined me,” you mutter back, not really paying attention.

A cocky grin takes its place on his face, “In what way?”

“S’many,” your words slur together.

He jokes, “Better than your book though right?”

You can only hum your confirmation, all your limbs are heavy, you might die, you’re fighting it though, the unconsciousness that’s threatening to take over.

Gojo moves closer to you, kissing your arm, “Hey, sleep, I’ll take care of you,” he murmurs into your skin.

That’s the last thing you hear before you’re dead asleep.

PLAGIARISM NOT CONDONED | REPOSTS NOT AUTHORISED

[mistymisfit]

How he shows he loves you

Summary: 3 short blurbs on how Jason shows reader he loves them.

warnings: mentions of reader being kidnapped, but descriptions are very vague lol.

wc: 2k

a/n: This isn't edited at all, but it has been sitting on y drafts for wayyyy too long

Jokes

Disappointment is not the initial reaction he hoped for when he came in through your front door. Shock would've been a more appropriate response, since your music was too loud and you didn't hear him come in. He decided to pull a prank and scare you, silently making his way to the kitchen where you were having a karaoke session. Which given how quiet he could be when he wanted to, it was not that hard at all. Now Jason tries to hold back his laugh, a boyish grin plastered across his features that he wouldn't be able to suppress even if he tried.

"What are you making?" He whispers next to you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. If he was being honest, he'd say he is concerned about how long it takes you to notice there's someone else in your apartment. But right now, he's too caught up in the bliss of being in your presence that he can't bring himself to care.

"Oh, you're early." You say after the scream you let out when he comes up behind you, seemingly out of nowhere to whisper in your ear.

"Why? You're mad?" He replies, hiding his insecurity behind sass. What if you didn't want him there? What if he's overstayed his welcome? But before he can come up with some convoluted reason for why you don't want him anymore, you're stopping him.

"I just wanted to have this done by the time you got here" You signal back at the food with your head. And he looks over, finally realizing you were cooking his favorite meal.

"What's the special occasion?"

"Nothing," You blush "Can't a girl just cook for her boyfriend?"

"Not unless she wants me to make her my wife," He teases, you roll your eyes, growing accustomed to these types of jokes. Once he reached a certain level of domesticity and was comfortable enough in the relationship, he started to talk about how he was gonna marry you. Jason would even jokingly refer to you as his wife. At first, he made you blush, now it was just the usual routine.

You would lie if you said it didn't excite you and make your feelings all mushy when he did that, your heart felt warmer when he showed how committed he was to you. You felt giddy whenever he said "When we get married", he never said if we get married, he was very certain about wanting to spend the rest of his life with you. Your heart skipped a beat whenever he'd drop a detail of his dream wedding, "We're having a chocolate cake, like the one in Matilda" or "I'm kissing the fuck out of you on that altar". One time he said: "If you liked that, imagine what our honeymoon would be", that one got him a soft slap on his chest as you chuckled.

"How did you get here anyways?" You change the subject, going back to your cooking.

"Used the front door" He answers with a smirk, arms wrapping around your waist as he steps closer to you.

"Really? How?"

"Cause I'm your boyfriend," He replies like it's the most obvious thing in the world. It is, but he didn't need to say it like that. "I have been for a while, and you gave me your keys"

"Damn, my doorman just lets anyone in these days" You joke and you can hear the little "tsk" that comes from his mouth as he lets go of you.

"I can leave and come back from your window" He's kidding, but you know him well enough to know he's willing to follow through just for the sake of doing a bit. Instead, you hold his arm, pulling him back to you in between giggles.

"Please, I finally have boot imprint-free windowsills"

He laughs, it's real laughter, not his usual chuckle. It makes your heart work overtime as you watch his smile reach his eyes so much that he ends up closing them. He pulls you in for a kiss before he lets you go to finish the dinner you worked so hard on. The food that when he takes a bite from has him asking:"You want a summer or spring wedding?"

Touch

Even if he's less inclined to admit this, Jason knew that before you met he was touch starved. And now he can't get enough of it, he's constantly on your side or with his hands on you in any way, shape or form. It came as a shock--to him-- how badly he needed you sometimes, he never felt this about anyone before. He swears he's not usually this clingy.

You are walking down the street and suddenly you're not holding his hand or bicep and he's grabbing your hand and putting it back. He could never be one of those boyfriends who don't notice when their partner stops holding their hand, if you ever so that he's immediately holding your hand again and asking what's wrong.

Sometimes his touch is protective. You are going through a crowded space and he has his hand placed on the small of your back, guiding you and making sure nothing ever happens to you. It turns a little too protective when another guy tries talking to you and he wraps an arm around your shoulders, pulling you in for a kiss.

But most of the time, he's all alone with you, lying down on bed or a couch, and he's tracing shapes on your uncovered skin. He leans his head closer when you play with his hair or God forbid you touch his face, it has his knees giving out. He loves feeling your weight on top of him, loves feeling you're real and that you're with him and not going anywhere. Maybe he sneaks a hand under your clothes if he feels daring, and your attention doesn't shift. It amazes him how he's allowed this, how much access you give him. And over everything else, it doesn't have to be sexual. Casual skin to skin contact did not have to mean anything else; it was just that.

With you he's experienced that not every touch has violence behind it, not every contact has an ulterior motive. So he's so gentle with you, maybe he is not good with words, so he makes up for it. You know he shows his affection in action rather than words, he's not that far from worshiping the ground you walk on. He's specially kind when you know you're vulnerable; he presses kisses to your face as much as he can and to your shoulder blades when he can't. You know he's a big softy since you've pretended to be asleep multiple times as he played with your hair. An more than once you've heard him whisper hushed love confessions he never thought you'd hear. His hands are rough with criminals but you'd never be able to tell by how kind he's around you.

Priority

Jason wants you to know you can count on him for anything, he makes a point of it by telling you multiple times. You ran out of milk? He's buying it on his way to your place Your apartment needs fixing and your landlord won't help? Problem's solved within the hour. Maybe you got terrible cramps, he's there to help you however you want him to. So it's no surprise to you or anyone that the second you're in danger he drops everything else. You're his number one priority.

"Where is she?" He pushes Bruce for information, which he was adamant in not telling him. Knowing Jason, he'd end up acting before he thinks it through, he'd show up unprepared and end up causing a disaster. Or at least that is what Bruce thinks about the son who plotted his revenge against him for years to the last minute detail.

"Jason" He mutters under his breath.

"I swear to God if I find out someone touched a hair in her head because you wasted time-"

"You go with me or you don't" He threatens "at all."

And Jason loves you so much, he's willing to agree to work with him in a heartbeat. He puts all his resentment aside when he thinks it will help you, if it meant working with the bat and abiding by his rules, then so be it. He'll track down the poor fucker who took you and kill him later. He didn't like being around him, it made him feel tense due to the incredibly strained relationship between the two of them. Bruce loved Jason, but sadly his way of showing it translated quite the opposite way in the younger one's eyes.

Bruce was being too quiet about what happened to you. All he knew was that he couldn't reach you, you were not at any of the usual places, and your friends had no idea where you were either. He checked your apartment and things were perfectly placed, no one had broken in--other than him. Then when he tracked your phone, which he only promised to do in extreme situations like today, he found it inside your purse thrown in some dirty alleyway. That's when his panic hit its peak and turned back to get his red hood gear and ask the bats if they knew anything about you.

He got to a warehouse, standing next to Bruce he decides to push him a bit more to get anything out of him. His mind was killing him with questions, were you okay? what happened? how did he know? and couldn't bear another second next to the stoic figure not willing to tell him anything.

"It's Mad Hatter, he's been taking people off the streets for-"

"Is she okay?" He cuts off, he has no space in his mind for whatever crazy thing he had planned against Batman or the city. Not when he's not sure you're safe, when Bruce won't even tell him if you're alive.

"She should be" He gives in "I'll take care of him, you handle hostages"

That's all he needs, he braces himself before following after Bruce, watching every step he made as it could make the difference between losing you or saving you. Jason's a bit pissed he's relegated to hostages much like he was during his time as Robin but decides against questioning for now. He steps and breathes as quietly as he can while he makes his way past the sign that reads "Wonderland". He silently signals to Bruce that they should split and cover more ground, to which he agreed with a curt nod. His masks allows him to have a better vision in the dark, so he can see how filthy the place was and how worn down the wonderland decorations were. He doesn't know if the man was there, but knowing Bruce he sent him on a path he wasn't likely to find him alone.

He finally finds some of his hostages, two twins laying unconscious on the floor. He tried waking them up to no success; he saw their chests move up and down as they breathed, so he knew he could worry about that later. Moving further, he sees a couple more people, all dressed up as characters like the twins were, in the same state. He then moves to the tea party, where another two kids dressed as the animals in the book sat with their heads on the table. He picks one of them up and rests them in a more comfortable position on the floor using what he could to make a cushion for their head, then does the same with the other kid. He thinks it's the least he could do if he couldn't wake them up. After a nerve-wracking walk through Lewis Caroll's nightmare he finds you, he feels his soul getting back to his body when his eyes finally land on you.

You lay on a floor that resembles a chessboard wearing a white dress and a crown, a little blonde girl with a light blue dress is cuddled up on your arms. He kneels down next to you, whispering your name and grabbing your shoulder to shake you in an almost desperate attempt to wake you.

"Please, please" He's sure if someone could hear how pathetic he sounded, his reputation would be ruined forever.

"Jay?" You manage to mutter under your breath, still not opening your eyes.

"Yes, I'll get you out of here"

"Hm, hats" you hummed, he doubted you were even aware of anything.

"I know, baby"

"off" Your voice was low and it seemed to him that you were fighting to stay awake and losing.

He took off the crown from your head and the headband from "Alice's". Listening to your advice, even if you were barely conscious. Once he confirmed you were okay, he carried you out. Then he came back for the little girl next to you, and so on until everyone was out and hat free. By that time police had arrived, and Batman was handing Jervis' ass to the cops to begin the cycle once more. He holds back, watching from afar to avoid getting caught. He watched as Batman shared a few words with Gordon, then Barbara tuned in to let him know which hospital they were taking you to.

When you wake up he is next to you, holding your hand and with the biggest eye-bags you've ever seen him with. He almost starts crying when you call his name in a hoarse whisper.

"I'm okay,"You whisper, wrapping your arms tightly around him. The scene is too touching as you see someone put a hand on his shoulder and tell him something.

"I'll go tell the doctors you woke up" He excused himself, reluctant even to let go of your hand, much less entertained by the idea of being separated from you too long.

You didn't see him as Jason's frame covered the man behind him but now you notice the one and only Bruce Wayne standing in your hospital room. It was too much to take in.

"Oh, Jason must really love me if he was willing to work with you"

[herlondonboy]

unclaimed, clarisse la rue

summary: after being unclaimed for seven years, your father claims you when a new kid arrives and is claimed.

warnings: bullying a little, i guess… they’ll be a part 2 if anyone likes this one. there’s not very much clarisse x reader, but there will be in part 2

wc: 1.6k

a/n: guys it’s my bday in three days… i wanna be 16 forever

you were barely ten when you arrived at camp half-blood. you were scared, shaking, and cold as your satyr protector led you away from the body of your mother and to the entrance of the camp.

with no idea of what was happening, you followed him blindly, hoping for an answer, but the second you crossed the threshold, you collapsed.

when you awoke, there was a blonde kid above you with a wide smile. “hi,” he said, “i’m will!”

you sat up in confusion, murmuring, “where am i?”

“camp half-blood,” will responded. “your satyr didn’t tell you?”

you shook your head. “what’s a satyr?”

since then, you and will had been friends. he was your only constant at camp. in the seven years you’d been there, you hadn’t been claimed by a god. it was understandable. you didn’t do anything to make them proud. you weren’t good at archery or sword fighting, you didn’t get along with nature nor were you heroic.

but, in those seven years, you had been claimed by someone else.

clarisse la rue was the daughter of ares. she knew how to get what she wanted and at 15 what she wanted was you. clarisse became a constant in your life. breakfasts would be spent feeling her eyes on you, archery practice she was purposefully tease you as if you weren’t already bad enough with a bow as it was.

then, she asked you out. you had been supporting a crush on her for a year at that point, so it was a no-brainer. you loved your girlfriend more than anything.

will and clarisse were the only people you were devoted to. the only people you really trusted.

as of now, your seventeenth birthday was quickly approaching. clarisse and will wanted to make it special since you hadn’t really celebrated any birthdays since you were ten. three days before your mother died getting you to safety.

it seemed like their efforts were futile because three days before your birthday, a curly-haired blond boy walked through the entrance after supposedly killing a minotaur. all celebrations had been pushed to the back of everyone’s minds. to the back of clarisse’s mind.

you didn’t care though, your birthday wasn’t a fun celebration. it didn’t even hurt that you weren’t anyone’s first priority. in fact, you were happy.

percy came with a reputation already hung over his head. he had killed a minotaur, though clarisse would tell everyone that it was bull crap. he was like ten, there was no way. you didn’t care that much. if they say he killed a monster, then he killed a monster.

as you sat at lunch, three days before your birthday, you were shot looks of pity. whether it was because your girlfriend was ignoring you or because you hadn’t been claimed in nearly seven years, you had no idea.

with a sigh, you got up and retreated back to the hermes cabin. you wished chiron would have let you choose which one you wanted to stay in. it was clear you had overstayed your welcome. they didn’t like you very much.

later that day, after sparring, it was dinner and your girlfriend was nowhere to be found. and of course, neither was percy jackson.

you got up and walked down to the outhouse where two of clarisse’s half-siblings were guarding the outside.

“let me past,” you ordered. they shared a look so you just pushed past, in time to see clarisse be soaked head to toe with what you hoped was tap water.

she glared at the boy before turning and storming out past you, followed by another two of her siblings. you’d comfort her in a minute.

“i’m sorry about her,” you said sincerely. “clarisse doesn’t like liars and she doesn’t believe that you killed the minotaur.”

“i’m not lying!”

“i didn’t say you were,” you furrowed your eyebrows. “but, uh, water powers, eh?”

“what?”

you shook your head. “i’m y/n.”

the boy nodded. “i know who you are.”

that made you frown. “you mean you know i’ve been unclaimed for seven years?”

“i-i,” he stammered, making you scoff.

“no worries. see you around, percy jackson, minotaur killer, orphan.”

“ouch.”

“don’t worry. i got here the same way, only hades didn’t save my mother, i don’t think. i didn’t see, too busy running and not killing,” you said. “welcome to camp half-blood.”

you walked out and to the ares cabin, knocking on the door.

your girlfriend opened with a glare, “what?” she asked.

“hello to you, too. i missed you too,” you mocked. clarisse just raised an eyebrow so you dropped your facade. “what was that back there? he’s a child, clarisse.”

“he’s a liar.”

you rolled your eyes and pushed her into the cabin. clarisse held back a smile as you made it dark and brought her over to her bed before kissing her lips softly. “leave him alone, please. i have a feeling he’s not the type of person that you want to mess with.”

clarisse scoffed at your reasoning and didn’t make any promises, but held you close.

“has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful?” clarisse asked suddenly, making you roll your eyes. “not… not in the way the aphrodite kids are. more like… like deathly beautiful.”

“thanks… i think?”

-

capture the flag was something that camp took very seriously. you were obviously on clarisse’s team, red team. even though you hadn’t won since a child of athena started leading the blue team. part of you hoped that percy would join your team, but knew he wouldn’t.

you forced a smile onto your face when you saw him. will had told you to smile more. that it makes one more approachable. it didn’t feel right to you, though.

you coughed and got in position.

you were by the water when percy came, clarisse hot on his tail. it was a fight you didn’t want to get in the middle of. you flinch when you heard your girlfriend’s spear snap then again when she screamed. you felt bad for the kid, he didn’t know what he had just started.

luke then ran down with the rest of the blue team cheering him on as he dug the red flag into the pebbles. clarisse stormed away once again, leaving you, yet again, with percy jackson.

you saw a colourful outline of a person, before annabeth took off her cap and revealed herself. she congratulated and her cursed her out for not helping him. you watched from afar as annabeth showed him way.

percy was suddenly in the water.

when annabeth pushed percy into the water, everyone watched intently. his cuts healed instantly as he yelled at her. he didn’t even know the gravity of the situation. the crowds went silent as everyone’s gaze moved from percy to above him.

another demigod claimed within days, when you hadn’t been claimed in years.

percy jackson, son of poseidon. a forbidden child. the only one, as thalia had died.

you knew it was only a matter of time before he was sent on a quest. you prayed for him.

that night, you tossed and turned in bed. sleep never came easy, but now it was like something was forcing you to stay awake. you groaned and opened your eyes, confused.

this didn’t look like the hermes cabin.

“hello, child,” you heard a deep voice say, making you turn around.

“who are you?” you asked. you knew who he was, though. he was hades. you were in the underworld, somehow. what you wanted to know, was who he was to you. “is it you?”

“is what me?”

“my father. are you him?” you asked bitterly. seven years. seven years curious and he only now claimed you out of pure jealousy.

“you know the answer.”

you nodded. “why now? why not seven years ago?”

“you know the answer to that, too.”

you were becoming seriously irate. your father was a prick.

“the boy didn’t just take something from my brother. he took something from me, too. i need you to get it back,” you father ordered. “before you say no, i have something you want.”

he nodded to an area behind you and you turned to see a golden statue, like someone had been touched my midas. the statue looked eerily familiar. then it clicked. “my mother?” you whispered.

“get me my helm of darkness.”

you shot awake in a cold sweat, blinking at the light. was it morning already?

“someone get luke,” you heard a hermes kid whisper. “quickly!”

everyone was looking at you. or rather, above you. you looked up at your father’s symbol glowing above your head, a three-headed dog. you felt sick.

not only were you a forbidden child, but you were the forbidden child of hades. when word got around to luke, he had practically dragged you to chiron’s office. it didn’t take long, so your father’s symbol was still over your head before quickly disappearing after chiron saw it.

luke had been asked to leave and you were alone with chiron and mr. d. “i-“

“we have a quest for you,” mr. d cut you off. “with peter johnson.”

“we would like to you to go and retrieve the master bolt from your father,” chiron told you. “you leave with percy and two others of his choosing tomorrow.”

“do i not have a choice?” you asked.

“you’re the only way they’re going to get out of the underworld. they need you.”

you sighed and nodded. “okay.”

this was not you wanted when you said you wanted to be claimed.

suddenly, you had forgotten all about what your father asked of you. your only job now was protecting percy jackson.

[dreamwritesimagines]

The Eye of the Hurricane [3] - Payback

A.N: Here’s the new chapter my loves! ❤️ I hope you’ll like it, and please don’t forget to tell me what you think, thank you! ❤️

Summary: Guests shouldn't overstay their welcome.

Word Count: 2800

Pairing: MobBoss!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: Violence, death, guns, crime, blood, explicit language. This is an AU, friendly reminder that I don’t condone any of the actions depicted on this story and please read with care.

Series Masterlist

You loved your best friend, you would die for her without hesitation but even you had to admit that to this day, her priorities still managed to surprise you.

“Someone shot at you and I wasn’t there? How dare you?”

You twirled the spoon in your hot chocolate. “Becca…”

“Seriously, I miss the one time someone has the audacity to try that shit?” Becca asked. “And Bucky was there instead of me? Ugh, the timing…”

“I promise I’ll call you the next time someone starts shooting at me.”

“You’d better,” she insisted. “And you didn’t even text me that night, I had to hear it from Bucky when he asked me where we got your dress from.”

You bit back a smile threatening to curl your lips.

“He shouldn’t have bothered,” you murmured. “I don’t want or need any gifts from him.”

She stole a look at you, then heaved a sigh and reached out to squeeze at your hand.

“I can’t believe you almost got taken.”

“I can’t believe someone hired a group of amateurs,” you corrected her. “I mean how rude is that? At least send a professional, you know? Where are their manners?”

“I heard Steve is still questioning the guy,” she said, taking her tea cup to her lips. “If he’s working for someone we know…”

“I doubt it.”

“So do I, but—” she paused for a moment. “Do you think this might break the truce?”

“No way,” you said. “I was unharmed and we don’t know who they are working for. Not to mention my father is too smart to break the truce.”

“Is Ian?” she asked nonchalantly and you shook your head.

“Ian isn’t the one calling the shots.”

“Thankfully,” she said, leaning back on her chair. “But he will use any and all excuses to start a war once he is the one calling the shots and the truce will be over.”

You pursed your lips before shaking your head.

“I’ll find a way to stop it,” you said. “That dickhead is not going to ruin everything our families worked for, no way.”

Becca waved her hands in the air.

“Ugh, let’s change the topic,” she said. “So you’re getting back together with your ex then?”

“It was just one dinner,” you said. “And he barely counts as an ex, really. We dated for a short time, and didn’t really spend much time outside bed.”

She wiggled her brows. “Well if you’re so eager to catch up with him after years, I’d say it was a pretty good time.”

A smile warmed your face.

“He was nice,” you said. “Nicer than most of my college boyfriends really.”

“Have you talked to him since the shoot-out?”

You paused for a moment, cradling the hot chocolate mug between your hands.

“I considered texting him but I doubt he wants to talk to me considering how disastrous that date was.”

“I don’t know,” she said with a shrug of her shoulders. “I wouldn’t call a shoot-out a disastrous date.”

“He actually got shot, Becca,” you reminded her. “He had to go to the hospital.”

“Alright but there are worse dates!” she insisted. “There was that one time back in college, a guy whipped out his guitar to spontaneously serenade me on a first date, that’s much worse than getting shot at.”

“I don’t disagree,” you said, scrunching up your nose. “Wasn’t there also that one girl who talked about her ex throughout your date?”  

“Still not as terrible as the serenade guy.”

You shot her a grin before sipping your hot chocolate. “I guess I could text Ethan,” you said. “He probably doesn’t want to see me again but I feel like I should apologize so…”

“And maybe he can ask you out on a second date when you see him again.”

“I really don’t think so—” you started but your phone started vibrating on the table, making you stop talking. You took a look at the screen, your frown deepening as you did.

“Why is Bucky calling you?” Becca asked with a small laugh and you scoffed, then hit decline.

“Must be an accident,” you said. “Anyways I was going to tell you, you remember that girl from—”

This time, it was Becca’s phone that started vibrating. She raised her brows and bit back a smile, then answered the phone.

“Yes Bucky?” she asked and stole a look at you. “Why?”

You ran a hand over your face, then mouthed “don’t” but Becca ignored you.

“What am I, your assistant?” she asked Bucky, then rolled her eyes as she listened to him. “Right right, very important as usual, fine. Yeah she’s here, I’m putting her on the phone.”

She handed you the phone and you let out a groan, then took it to your ear.

“What do you want?”

“What, no hello or anything?” he taunted you and you gritted your teeth.

“Hello Bucky, what do you want?”

“I need to see you.”

“I on the other hand could live out my days happily without seeing you,” you said and he chuckled.

“Is this still about the dress?”

“It’s about your existence in general.”

“Ouch,” he deadpanned. “So does 5 o’clock work for you?”

You checked your wristwatch.

“I have plans until 4 so no.”

“I meant 5 a.m,” he corrected you and you made a face.

“Do you just not sleep?” you asked. “I mean it wouldn’t surprise me if you were a vampire, now to think of it. Leather jackets, wearing all black, you have that brooding expression all the time…”

“I’ll text you the address.”

“Oh great, do that so that I can ignore that text,” you stated. “I’m not coming anywhere at 5 a.m.”

“Charm…”

“Why on earth would I even—”

“You need to be there to see our guest off, you know the rules.”

That was more than enough to make you pause, your head snapping up. You pursed your lips and ran a hand over your face, then huffed out.

“No promises.”

“See you at dawn sweetheart,” he said and hung up. You clicked your tongue, then handed Becca her phone back.

“What is that about?”

“Steve’s guest,” you said and Becca raised her brows, then shrugged her shoulders.

“Well,” she said, grabbing her tea cup. “No wonder you’re sending him off at dawn, I’d say he overstayed his welcome.”

                                                *

Meeting Ethan was going to be awkward, you knew it was. Too bad there wasn’t a get well soon card that also included an apology for causing a person to get shot as well, so you figured you could just come up with something when you were there. You walked through the door to the café, then slowly made your way to the table he was sitting at, typing into his laptop. You cleared your throat, making his eyes shoot up at you.

“Hey.” He pushed his chair back to stand up and you offered him a smile.

“Hey.”

“Please,” he motioned at the seat across from his and you sat down, then stole a look at his shoulder when he sat down as well.

“What did the doctors say?”

“That it was a clean shot, the bullet passed right through without hitting anything important,” he said. “They bandaged it and they’ll see, but it should heal without any issues.”

“Good,” you said, letting out a breath. “I’m glad.”

A silence fell upon you for a moment and he coughed lightly, sitting up straighter.

“So,” he said. “I guess it’s nice to have an answer to my question from earlier, after all these years.”

You leaned back in your chair, crossing your arms in silence.

“You could’ve told me, you know? While we were dating.”

“There was nothing to tell you then,” you said after you took a deep breath. “There’s nothing to tell you now.”

“Wait, what?” he asked, letting out a laugh. “You can’t be serious Y/N, come on…”

“What?”

“How else would you explain what happened that night?”

“An unfortunate incident,” you said with a shrug of your shoulders and he shot you a look.

“Steve’s men talked to me,” he said. “You have nothing to worry about, I’m not going to tell anyone anything so you don’t have to give me that. I get how it works.”

“Oh do you now?” you asked with a small smirk and he held up his hands.

“I’ve watched The Godfather for three times,” he said, coaxing a laugh out of you.

“You do realize that if it were anyone else, they would be running for the hills right now instead of meeting up with me again?”

“I mean I’m not going to lie, it’s very intimidating,” he said. “That whole thing. But I also think you’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met.”

The smile on your lips faded and you swallowed thickly before biting inside your cheek, trying to keep your expression flat.

“Ah,” you said, the familiar disappointment sinking your stomach. “That’s why you accepted to talk to me again?”

“What?”

“Because you think what happened back there was exciting or something?” you asked with a scoff, then reached out to grab your purse. “You should sign up for bungee jumping classes if that’s what you want—”

“No no,” he cut you off, shaking his head. “You misunderstand me. It was terrifying.”

You arched a brow. “And yet…

“You didn’t have to do what you did to protect me,” he said, making you pull your brows together.

“I beg your pardon?”

 “I saw you,” he said, letting out a chuckle. “You were—you were kicking their asses until you saw they held the gun to my head. That’s why you stopped. For my safety.”

You pursed your lips together, then put your purse back in the chair, leaning back.

“Ethan…”

“I mean, if you’re a part of that world—”

“I said nothing like that,” you said almost automatically and he let out an impatient breath.

“Fine,” he said. “Hypothetically speaking, if you were a part of that world—”

“Hypothetically speaking,” you cut him off and stole a look around the café. “If I were a part of that world, I’d say there are rules. A code of honor.”

“A code of honor?”

“Live by the sword, die by the sword,” you recited what you had heard from your father and everyone around you multiple times. “But hypothetically, if someone is not a part of that world… Civilians didn’t sign up for that shit, and no one can force them to. Trust me, what I did wasn’t anything special.”

“Either way,” he said. “Code or not, I don’t think anyone else would have done it. That’s why I wanted to meet you actually, to thank you. What you did back there, it means a lot.”

Oh.

This was unexpected. If it were anyone else, they probably would have never wanted to see you again, let alone actually thanking you but it shouldn’t have been that surprising that Ethan saw it like that. It was one of the first thing that had drawn you to him back at college, he always managed to see the best in people.

“…Seriously?” you asked, a tiny ray of hope warming your chest and he nodded.

“Seriously,” he said. “I mean I’m not going to pretend it’s not scary but at the end of the day, I liked spending time with you.”

“I liked spending time with you as well,” you said with a small laugh. “Minus the incidents.”

“Fingers crossed for fewer incidents,” he joked and you nodded.

“No promises but I’ll try my best,” you said and he grinned, then drummed his hand on the table.

“So can I buy you a cup of coffee?”

“Oh it’d be great thank you!” you said as he stood up. “You’re very sweet. A decaf latte please.”

 He tilted his head. “Decaf?” he asked. “I remember you downing five espresso shots with zero problems, what happened there?”

“I can still do that but I should cut down on caffeine today,” you said, smiling slightly. “I need to get up really early tomorrow.”

“How early are we talking?”

“5 a.m.” you said with a sigh. “And it will not be fun, I’m telling you.”

“You’re starting on yoga or something?”

A small laugh climbed up your throat and you nodded your head.

“Uh huh,” you said as he walked to the counter. “Or something.”  

                                                      *

When the car pulled over in front of the skyscraper, you lifted your head off the window, wiping the drool off your cheek as discreetly as you could.

“We’re here, miss.”

“Thank you Carl,” you murmured before a yawn split your face and stretched out your tired muscles. The sky was still dark, and the chill of the air sent a shiver down your spine when Carl opened your door for you. You rubbed at your arms in an attempt to warm yourself up, then walked into the skyscraper with two bodyguards following you.

You stepped into the elevator and pressed the button that would get you to the roof, rubbing at your eyes while you checked your reflection in the mirror. The classic music filled the elevator, making you hum along until it came to a stop and the doors opened.

“Let’s do this then…” you murmured and walked out of the elevator, your whole body tensing up because of how cold it was. Bucky was standing in the middle of the roof, some of his men pacing around while two of them stood by the edge of the roof, looking down. The tight rope on the floor caught your eye and you followed it to the edge, tilting your head to the left.

“Is that him?” you asked and Bucky looked over his shoulder, then turned around to see you better.

“Charm,” he said. “Good morning.”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you muttered. “Why are we doing this at this hour again?”

“No potential civilian witnesses,” he said as you approached him, your shoulders still tense. He took a look at you, then shrugged off his long coat and dropped it over your shoulders, his pleasant scent filling your nostrils.

“I’m not even cold,” you said through chattering teeth even though your body immediately welcomed the warmth, and he scoffed a chuckle.

“Mm hm,” he said. “Of course you’re not.”

“That being said, I’ll send it back after I get home,” you said, your nose stuck in the air as you rolled the sleeves of the coat up a bit. “I’m not catching pneumonia just because you decided to pull this shit at dawn.”

“You should keep it,” Bucky said with a small smile. “Looks good on you.”

You rolled your eyes. “If you think—”

“Please don’t kill me, please!” the shout coming from the ledge cut you off and you glanced at the rope, then up at Bucky.

“How long has he been begging, exactly?”

“Too long for my patience,” he muttered before he raised his voice; “Shut it, asshole!”

“No no no, please I can—I’ll change,” the guy said. “I’ll—I’ll never cross paths with her again, I swear!”

“Funny, he seemed much more confident while he was shooting at me,” you commented and a dark shadow passed over Bucky’s eyes.

“Deadly mistake,” he drawled and you took a couple of steps to go to the edge of the roof to look down at the man hanging by a rope over the edge of the roof. He was too panicked to even notice you while he dangled there, trying to break free from the rope and you took a deep breath, then turned to Bucky.

“What’s his name?”

Bucky put a cigarette between his lips, then lit it and exhaled the smoke.

“Tony Willis.”

“No no no, please help me—”

“Tony Willis, you have been accused and found guilty of multiple crimes against the city,” you recited the speech you had heard from your father many times. “You have put civilians in danger, attacked a member of a key family, and tried to break the truce. The—”

“I’ll change! I’ll change I promise you!”

“The punishment for these crimes is death,” you continued, deaf to his begging. “The sentence is to be carried out immediately, by a member of the family or a person of their choosing.”

You stepped away from the ledge to walk to Bucky, ignoring the pleas of the man and Bucky stubbed his cigarette before holding out his gun for you, but you shook your head.

“I don’t want my hand to smell bad,” you muttered, scrunching up your nose and a fond smile appeared on Bucky’s lips.

“As the princess wishes,” he said, his voice almost soothing before pointed the gun at the rope on the floor. “Live by the sword, die by the sword.”

He fired the gun at the rope, making it snap in half and the man’s shouting ceased immediately as he plummeted to his death. For a moment no one said anything, a silence falling upon the rooftop while you stared at the first rays of the rising sun before you hid your yawn behind your palm, then lowered your hand and glanced up at Bucky.

“Well then,” you said, crossing your arms. “I don’t suppose you brought coffee?”

Chapter 4

[janananarei]

My Loyal Follower

God!Gojo x Mortal!Reader

Fate decides to put color in your monochrome world and brings you to an abandoned temple with a god residing inside. You are taken in as his follower and an unbreakable bond forms. But the passage of time is cruel to the immortals.

≿━━༺❀༻━━≾ ༻✧༺ ≿━━༺❀༻━━≾

Genre: Angst

Cw: SFW, gn! Reader, mentions of blood and violence, attempted kidnapping at one part, old age

Word Count: 3k

Note: This is my very first attempt at writing a story so don't expect too much! I am also not used to using tumblr so please bear with the bad layout

≿━━༺❀༻━━≾ ༻✧༺ ≿━━༺❀༻━━≾

"Oh my"

Heavy rain started to pour while you were in the middle of scavenging for berries. Seeing as how far you are from your house, you quickly shuffle through the forest to find the nearest shelter, being careful not to slip on muddy areas.

You lived a peaceful life away from other citizens. With your cottage lying in the forest, so as to not be disturbed by other's matters. Although, due to your isolation, you have no one to call a friend. There are days where you felt lonely, with nothing in mind to keep you busy. These were one of those days, so you thought making a new pie recipe would keep you away from those feelings.

"What a shame", looks like the weather was not with you today.

Continuing to trudge through thick foliage, your eyes catch a temple in the distance. You scramble to it's entrance and breath as sigh of relief once the droplets of water stopped hitting your skin. You look around the temple covered with moss and growing plants, with a leak on its roof. The singular window gives light to the room, allowing you to see various eye symbols marked on the wall. Assuming that this is an abandoned temple, you put your basket down and sit as you wait for the rain to stop. Now recognizing how tired you are, you rest against the wall and allow sleep to overcome you.

You feel like your shaking, or better yet, someone is shaking you. A voice is suddenly heard, but you couldn't fully process it.

"hey-...-ho are yo-.."

Your eyes slowly start to open as you see a a blurry face in front of you.

"-nswer me mortal"

Your eyes finally adjust to your surroundings. What sits in front of you is a man wearing a white robe with hair as white as the clouds, skin as smooth as the valleys, and the most beautiful pair of eyes you have ever seen. No amount of jewelry can compete with those eyes, it is like looking at the vast ocean full of life and unknowns.

"It is rude to stare and not answer someone's question you know, especially if you break into their abode."

You snapped out of your thoughts and answered the strange man, "Pardon me sir, I am (Y/N). I was just collecting berries when it started to rain heavily, I stumbled upon this temple to seek shelter. I was not aware that it was occupied."

He scuffed, "I forgive you, although be sure to at least knock or give a sign before entering someone's abode." You nod as you stood up and dusted any of the dirt caught to your clothes. "Are you the keeper of this temple? This is the first time I've ever seen it." You look at him with a curious look, this place is even farther from civilization. How will people be able to visit this temple if it so isolated from the world?

He looks at you with a smirk and proudly says, "Keeper? I am more than that, I am the god to which this temple worships."

Bewildered, you continue to look at him and his prideful face. "A god? Don't be so ridiculous now. This temple seems to be abandoned, with no people insight. Surely the god that lies here is gone now." He looks at you offended, "How bold of you to speak like that to a god, mortal! I sure am the god that this temple dedicates to, Satoru Gojo, the god of infinity!"

Silence filled the room as you continue to stare at each other. Finally, The so-called Satoru Gojo huffed and said, "The rain has stopped an you have overstayed your welcome. Leave now before you face consequences!"

Picking up your basket, you bow and head home. With Gojo continuing to look at your figure until you disappear into the bushes.

"Mortals..."

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

The next day, you hold your freshly made pie close as you walk back to the temple.

"What brings you here again? Come to insult me?" Crossing his arms as you reach the entrance of the temple. You bow and present your homemade pie to him, "I come to apologize once more, we set off at the wrong foot yesterday and I wish to correct it. I made this pie for you as an apology" You raise up your head and look at him. Gojo looks at the pie as if it's the shiniest pearl in the entire world. He quickly snatches it from you and starts devouring it with a smile on his face. You relax and give a soft smile as he eats your pie, sighing considering your time making it was worth it. "So you say your the god of this temple? Looking at you again, it isn't so surprising considering that you look out of this world." He looks at you and his prideful face returns once more, "Hah! For once you are correct, I am the most ethereal man you will ever lay your eyes upon! And not to mention the strongest as well. I have saved many cities from doom, and joined the greatest wars. With my six eyes, no man has ever come close to defeating me!" You stare at him as he continues to ramble. Passion evident in his face as he recounts all the stories he has in store. He looks happy now that he has someone to talk to.

"Ah! Now I understand why you are doing all these gestures, you wish to become a follower of mine!" You're snapped out of your stupor, "Huh- wha- no! I just wanted to-" You paused as you look into his eyes. No matter how magnificent they are, they carry a sense of loneliness. Now that you think about it, you have a lot of similarities with Gojo. Isolated from society, no one to be there with you, no one around that is waiting for you to come home. Perhaps being with Gojo could heal that loneliness inside both of you, and if becoming his follower will bring you closer to him then so be it. Gojo waits for your response as you make your decision, "Nevermind. It would be an honor to be considered your follower, Gojo." He lets out a laugh, overjoyed with your choice. "You have a bright mind mortal. From now on I will take you under my hands and protect you, so long as your faith for me stays strong."

You giggled as you stood up and faced him. "I have more pie recipes that I would love to try out. If you'd like, you can accompany me while searching for the ingredients." He crossed his arms, "Making me into one of your helpers? Fine, since you are my follower and have graciously offered me pie."

You cheer as you start to head into the forest, followed by the white haired man.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

"What is this strange thing, it looks poisonous."

"Just try it, it's candy! I promise you, you're gonna love it."

Months have passed since your first meeting with Gojo. You both have gotten closer over time, with the temple being your usual meeting spot. Your usual lonely days are now filled with laughter and quips from both you and Gojo. You now experience the warm feeling of having someone waiting for you everyday, and you were grateful for whatever fate brought you to the temple.

"See, I told you you'd like it."

Gojo is in awe as he continues to savor the candy in his mouth. "Slow down, you might choke- wha- hey that's my candy!" Gojo snatched your candy right out of your hands and quickly gobbled it up. "That was rude Gojo" you pouted as you travelled far just to buy those candies. "Why do you still continue to call me Gojo? You have proven to me that you are a faithful follower of mine, so you may have the honor to call me Satoru."

"Satoru? Anyways, you better pay me back for eating my candy!"

"Ordering your god around? How despicable, have you no respect for your deity?"

"Come on! You're a god, surely you can use your godly powers to make candy appear right now!"

Satoru now looks a little bothered by what you said. "It's not that easy..."

"Do you have magic that can make candy out of thin air? Or maybe one that changes the weather? Oh! Maybe your powers focus more on nature?"

"uh- well no."

"Gods are naturally gifted with powers right? That's what makes them unique. So surely yours is something super amazing right? Is it-"

"I'm not a real god!"

Silence fills the air, Satoru looks away from your shocked form. "What do you mean? You have a whole temple dedicated for you, you have your own title, and your whole form gives off divinity."

"I'm not a real god, or more so I'm not a god anymore."

"What happened?"

He sighs and looks at you, he needs to tell you the truth. "Back then, I had plenty of followers that worshipped me and gave me offerings. I had visitors everyday coming from far away places. I was known to be the strongest god, praised for my power and strength. So when a great war between gods occurred, I was forced to participate. PIt was going well at first with our side winning, but one night, a god destroyed my village and killed all my followers. I got heavily injured while fighting, and I couldn't even save one of them... That's when I stopped participating in the war as I laid in the ruins of my home. When the war was over, humans and gods have already forgotten about my existence. With no more followers, citizens, or anyone that still believes of my existence, I gradually lost my divinity until I am but a simple man..."

Silence filled the atmosphere after Satoru dropped the truth. He couldn't bear to look at you after lying for months, but he felt your head lean onto his shoulder. "Oh Satoru, god or not, I'd still be with you." Silence continues to fill the air as you bask in each other's presence.

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

It was supposed to be a normal afternoon. You were on your way to visit Satoru, when you heard footsteps behind you.

"Well, well, well look what we have here boy."

Bandits.

"How much do you think they would cost?"

"A hefty amount, we 'bout to be rich off of this."

They were slowly closing in on you, your adrenaline peeking, you were in fight or flight mode. Seeing that you were outnumbered, you suddenly take off heading for the temple.

Satoru will be there to fight them off

What you didn't anticipate for was for them to catch onto you, feeling a hand grab onto your arm as you were running. You think fast and punch the bandit right on the face as he let go and fell down to the floor. Another one appears and slashes your arm, blood starts to drop from the wound, so you kick him to the ground. Adrenaline fully taking over your body, you ready yourself to make another blow when you suddenly felt someone hit you at the back of your head.

Shit, they snuck up on me

You feel yourself falling, with your head hitting the ground. A warm thick liquid drips at the back of your head and your arm. You couldn't move.

Get up, get up, get up

You feel your consciousness slowly fade away as your eyes start to close. Before you could pass out, you see a tall man with white tuft hair stand infront if you.

Satoru

The world goes dark.

The next time your consciousness starts to come back, you feel soft hands touching your arm. You slowly open your eyes and the first thing you see are two cerulean eyes that seemed as if it was glowing.

"(Y/N) your awake!"

"Satoru? What happened?"

You sit up from the matt you were laying in as you process where you are. You're at the temple, but weren't you just surrounded by bandits?

"I heard commotion near the temple, and I saw you getting attacked and I-I had to step in to stop them. Yo-you were bleeding on the floor, and-and I thought you would die- Oh, you're bleeding through your bandage, let me replace it!" You feel his hands slightly quivering as they start to unwrap the bandage around your arm. "No no it's fine I can do it-" You feel a single drop of tear land onto your arm, as you look up you realize Satoru is crying. "Shit- I'm so sorry I wasn't there. If I had just been there sooner-! Shit why am I so useless-" you gently hold his cheek and make him look at you. "Satoru, It's okay, I'm with you right here right now. No one is here to attack me and you anymore thanks to you. Thank you, you did a great job."

He wraps his arms around you and holds you close as he lets more tears drop while lying on your shoulder.

"Thank you Satoru, thank you."

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

Years has passed since the incident. Your connection with Satoru has grown stronger. No more secrets kept from each other, emotions set free when in the presence of the other, everything was perfect.

"How did you even find this?"

"I found it when I was exploring the forest a few weeks ago."

You and Satoru stand before a flower field, with the wind blowing the flowers enhancing the view. At the center stand an old willow tree that is a fit place for shade.

As you both sit down under the willow tree, you open your basket to get the food out. Wind blows your hair that was starting to turn grey. Reach your hand out, holding three candies, you toss it to Satoru as he continues to look at the field.

"You better savor that, I spent my last pennies to buy those."

"It's so beautiful."

You paused to look at Satoru staring at the scenery. His eyes glimmering as it stares in awe.

"It is beautiful."

Satoru turns to look at you and softly smiles, the glimmer in his eyes still seen. He puts the candy aside and starts picking up the flowers beside him. He starts to make a ring made out of flowers, twisting and securing the flowers onto each other. Once he was done, he grabs your hand slips the finger in. "A ring for my loyal follower as a promise to be there for them no matter the situation. And look, it perfectly fits you!" You look at the ring and smile. You decide you should make one for him to, so you let go of his hand and quickly make on yourself. Finished with your work, you grab his hand and slip the ring in as well, "For my god, a promise to always follow him wherever he may go."

The day continues with you two eating the meal you prepared and bantering between each other.

"First one to reach the temple gets to have the others candy for the next month!"

"Ah! That's unfair! I'm not as young and fast as I was before!"

Today was perfect

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

Another few years have gone by. You both agreed to make the flower field your now usual meeting spot since the temple was too far from your cottage, and your legs couldn't travel that far anymore. Wrinkles started to become more evident on your body, hair about to be fully grey, and bones too weak to hold you up for hours.

"Your quieter today Satoru. What's got you so silent?" You lay your back on the bark of the tree as Satoru lays his on your lap. "Nothing, I just feel lonely today."

"Lonely? When I'm right here? Is this your way of saying I'm not enough to keep you company anymore?" You huffed and he quickly sits up "No! No! It's not that, it's just that you had a really hard time walking here and I had to assist you. It reminded me of your mortality, and that days won't always stay like this anymore."

"Oh Satoru. It's true, the passage of time could be so cruel and one day I wouldn't be here to be beside you anymore. But that's life isn't it? It's both sad and beautiful. Even so, when I am no longer walking on this Earth, remember me in your memories and I will live forever with you."

You see Satorus eyes start to gloss up as tears are starting to collect, "How cruel of you to say that, mortal." A few tears drips from his eyes as he ones again lays on your lap. "Oh stop with the tears you crybaby, It isn't gonna make me any younger." There was no malice, or annoyance in your tone, rather all that was left was melancholy as you spoke softly

"Thank you Satoru for everything"

╔═*.·:·.✧ ✦ ✧.·:·.*═╗

You rarely visited after that day, barely being able to reach the field as your body grows weak overtime. Until you just stopped visiting altogether, Satoru stayed patient thinking that you were just extra tired, but when you haven't visited in a week, he had to visit you to make sure your okay.

Satoru knocks on the door of your cottage, when no one came to open it he decided to invite himself in.

The house was quiet with your furniture looking as if it wasn't used in a while. He sees the door to your bedroom open and sees you lying on your bed.

He enters your room quietly. You look frail, weak, vulnerable. Like you were only one step away from the doors of death. Your body stiff and can barely move, your eyes closed as if you couldn't open it for too long, and your breathing soft and steady.

"(Y/N), time to wake up. We're late from our usual schedule, we should be making flower crowns by now..."

No response

"Sorry that I just barged in here uninvited. I was too excited and wanted to see you again."

No response

"I'm sorry too if I turned out to be a jerk sometimes, but you know there's nothing that can fix that...I'm sorry if I also failed to be your god- your companion- your partner. I wish I could've done more to make this life of yours more memorable."

No response.

"You were always the one thanking me, but this time I want to thank you. Thank you for showing me that there was still something worth living for in my cursed life. Thank you for believing in me, seeing my worth even though I couldn't see it myself. And thank you for being my everything."

No response

"No matter how many centuries past, you will you continue to be held dear in my heart."

He perks up when he noticed your finger twitched and breathing hitched. You slowly open your eyes and look at Satoru. You couldn't open your eyes fully anymore, and all you could see was a blurry image of a white haired man. But you know your Satoru by heart, so you smile the best that you could. He holds your hand as you open your mouth.

"Satoru, you came."

He looks at you, eyes filled with sadness, as he holds your hand tighter and gives you a smile.

"Yeah, I'm right here just like I promised."

"I'm so happy."

You give him one last smile before you decide to finally let go. Feeling content with the life you lived, you close your eyes and allow death to take over.

Satoru feels your body turn cold while holding your hand. His hands quivering as he lets the tears fall on his cheeks. Now that you were gone, he let go of his strength and let his emotions.

Sobs fill the room as a god is left alone once more.

[peachdues]

COALESCENCE — RANDOM SNIPPETS

Levi x F!Reader • secret pregnancy AU

I feel bad I haven’t updated anything for Coalescence recently — so have some random snippets from Part I. I will return to Coalescence once Part III of my Demon Slayer fic, In the Netherwood, is complete.

CW: MDNI • mentions of injury • pregnancy • NSFW sneak peek at the end • Hange being Hange • Hange also finds out that Levi x Reader have been fucking and Reader is now pregnant • Levi eats pussy like a god

Death was far quieter than you’d imagined. It was dark, perhaps even peaceful. An endless oblivion amidst which you floated without form; weightless.

When you’d lost unconsciousness against the rubble that was once the Main Street of Trost, you’d accepted the very real — and likely — possibility that you would not wake up again.

In your youth, death had been nothing more than an abstract concept; something that happened only to the elderly or those who caught illnesses that could not be treated, or even to those who ventured beyond the Walls.

As a soldier within the Survey Corps, however, you’d learned that death was as certain as the sun even if you might not live long enough to see it rise.

And, having spent the last eight years of your life fighting on behalf of the Corps even as your comrades dropped like flies around you, you knew you’d long overstayed your welcome in this world overrun by titans.

So when everything had begun to fade to black as you laid broken on chunks of stone and brick, you thought death had finally come to collect on the debt you owed. You supposed you were grateful that your final moments were not spent struggling in the grip of a titan as it brought you to its open, salivating mouth.

Really, it wasn’t such a bad way to go, dying from injuries sustained in an explosion — even if the explosion had been caused by the stupidity of one of your own. You could make peace with it; you almost had.

Almost.

The one, nagging thought you’d had as the world around you melted into dark oblivion had been of him — of your dark-haired, brooding boyfriend, who was likely miles away from Trost and utterly unaware of the disaster that had befallen the district; that had befallen you.

Levi, you’d known, was going to be pissed when he found out you’d gotten yourself killed, after he’d told you, so many times, to avoid doing exactly that.

As much as you’d hoped he could find it within himself to forgive you, you knew he wouldn’t, and truthfully, you didn’t think you could forgive yourself. You knew how every face of your fallen comrades haunted the Captain’s waking hours — how their screams plagued his precious few hours of sleep.

And now, it seemed, you would only be adding yourself to the festering wound he carried on his heart; so no, you probably didn’t deserve his forgiveness anyways.

It would’ve been nice to see him, one last time — you would’ve taken one of his fierce verbal lashings, if it meant hearing his voice one last time.

There was nothing you could do, however but resign yourself to death’s beckoning embrace, to fade into the nether and dissolve among the stars —

A buzz broke the quiet black of your oblivion.

You frowned; the buzz seemed to grow louder with each dull thud of your heart. You wanted to bat it away, make the silence come back and sink into the calm stupor you’d been floating in once more.

But the buzz was incessant, growing louder until you realized it was not a buzz at all, but voices. Many voices, speaking over one another in hissed, urgent tones.

“Get me a sponge, I can’t see where all this blood is coming from —“

“— Did you see her bloodwork? She’s at least ten weeks along, she’ll need to be discharged immediately —“

“That’s assuming the fetus has even survived —“

“Shush, I think she’s coming to; someone get Squad Leader Hange —

The voices melted together above you, their grate making the ache in your head grow steadily more piecing with each passing breath.

With far more effort than you wanted to believe it would take, your eyes slowly opened, struggling to adjust against the harsh overhead light of the Trost infirmary.

That light, however, was quickly blocked out by a shadowy figure leaning over you, far too close to your face for you own comfort. Your eyelids fluttered as the figure above you sharpened into focus, revealing a pair of large brown eyes blinking owlishly down at you.

“Welcome back to the land of the living, soldier!” The unmistakable voice of your Squad Leader chirped. “Glad to have you with us!”

Your lips, dry and cracked parted to answer her, but you could do no more than respond with a strangled, pained groan.

The surface upon which you’d been lain — a cot, by the feel of it — dipped as Hange Zoe climbed atop it, legs carefully straddling your hips to keep their weight off you, as the Squad Leader leaned in close to your face.

“Squad Leader — you can’t —“ a nurse tried.

Her admonition fell on deaf ears. “You had me worried there, Y/N,” Hange’s began, fingers peeling back your eyelids to check the dilation of your pupils.

“You were in rough shape when Braus and another cadet pulled you free from that toppled building.”

You tried to ask how long you’d been out, but your mouth struggled to form around the shape of the words. Instead, all that came out was a garbled string of nonsense.

“You have a concussion, that’s for sure,” Hange said smoothly, fingers prodding at a tender spot against your temple.

“But that’s not the most important thing — Y/N, did you know you’re pregnant?”

That single word broke through the addled fog clogging your head.

“Preg—?” You managed, your tongue thick in your mouth.

Hange appeared to interpret the furrow of your eyebrows as a lack of comprehension rather than shock. “Yes, preg-nant. There is a small clump of cells growing inside you that will become a child —“

You grimaced. “N-no,” you tried. “I had — an implant —“

You heard the nurses desperately plea with your Squad Leader to get them down from where they’d perched upon your cot, but Hange paid them no mind.

“Hate to be the bearer of bad news, doll, but they aren’t always one hundred percent effective. It’s rare, but it happens.”

Under normal circumstances, you would have cursed your luck. Of course you’d end up being the exception.

“I can’t say I’m excited for you,” Hange continued, though it appeared they had been finally persuaded to remove themselves from your cot. The Squad Leader deftly stepped away from you, coming around the edge of your bed to take a clipboard from one of the nurses.

“You’re my best Scout; your pregnancy means I have to discharge you. No exceptions.”

You struggled to keep your eyes open, unconsciousness creeping in once more. “Is — am I still —?”

Hange looked up from your medical sheet, eyes softening. “Yes, Y/N, though you’re not entirely out of the clear, yet.”

You didn’t know whether to be relieved or not; part of you relaxed at the assurance, but until you could talk to Levi —

Levi.

Fuck, Levi.

You hadn’t known of your — condition — until mere seconds before, which meant Levi sure as hell had no clue that your birth control had failed, and you were now carrying irrefutable proof of the relationship the two of you had concealed for the last year.

Levi.

You needed to tell him, and fast; before it was too late to address the problem.

Levi.

There was nothing you could do at that moment as the world around you began to dim once more. Try as you might, your body was unable to fight off the sleep that crept in and began to tug you under, despite the urgency with which you thought of your need to get in contact with the Captain as soon as possible.

Levi. You needed to talk to Levi.

But the Trost infirmary slipped away, the voices of nurses and of Hange fading to the same buzz which had brought you back to consciousness the first time.

Before you slipped below the waves of sleep, you heard your Squad Leader’s lone gasp.

“Motherfucker-“

—-

(Levi’s POV)

Levi’s eccentric comrade emerged from the small examination room, a pensive look on their face.

Levi hadn’t given much thought as to what he would do if he ran into any of his colleagues among the upper ranks of the Scouts. His mind had been exclusively focused on her, and the news that had shaken him to his core.

He remained pressed against the corridor wall, for once uncertain whether he should make his presence known or stay still until Hange wandered away, leaving him to slip into the examination room unseen.

But the section leader had always had a peculiar sense as to when he was near, and so with a slight sense of foreboding, Levi watched as Hange’s head turned towards him, eyes as round and as bright as an owl’s.

“What a surprise it is to see you here, Levi.”

Levi kept his features neutral. “Is it?”

Hange’s expression was inscrutable. “What a day, huh?” They folded their arms across their chest and leaned against the doorway leading to her — to Y/N.

“A titan breach, gross incompetence by the Garrison causing even more casualties and destruction,” Hange counted off the day’s events on her fingers. “And to top it all off, the best scout on my squad not only got injured because of said incompetence, but she’s also pregnant.”

It took everything in him to keep his voice even and monotone. “Sounds like you’ve got quite the headache. The paperwork to discharge a scout is tedious at best.”

Levi brushed imaginary lint off the shoulder of his cape. “Better go get a move on.”

A strange smirk tugged at the corner of Hange’s mouth.

“I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything about who the prospective father is, have you?”

There was a beat. “No.”

Hange’s smirk turned into a grin. “Poor thing has a concussion — it’s small, don’t worry,” and Levi knew his face must have tightened. “But the funniest thing happened while the poor girl was coming in and out of consciousness.”

Levi’s fists clenched slightly at the feral glint in their eye.

“It was almost hard to hear what she was muttering, the poor dear,” Hange finally kicked off the door jam and moved to saunter past her raven-haired comrade.

“I didn’t realize you were on a first-name basis with my scout, Levi.”

Levi’s voice dropped to a near whisper as they brushed by him. “Hange.”

“It seems the pregnancy is still viable,” the section commander said quietly.

He couldn’t stifle the faint exhale of relief which left him at their reassurance. For as shocking as the news of her pregnancy was, Levindidnt want to think about the mental toll a miscarriage could have wrought upon you.

Or himself, for that matter.

“You can go in,” Hange’s voice interrupted is slight reprieve. “I’ll make sure no one comes this way for at least a few minutes. But you can’t stay long — Erwin wants to see us.”

—-

“Well, congratulations!” Hange boomed, clapping the Captain sharply on the shoulder. “Good on you for working to restore the human race!”

A muscle in Levi’s jaw ticked. “Hange—“

“I guess the moniker ‘humanity’s strongest’ doesn’t just apply to your combat skills —“

“Hange.”

“— I’m talking super swimmers —“

“Oi. Four-eyes.” Levi pulled on the eccentric squad leader’s ponytail to command their attention. “Enough.”

—-

(NSFW bonus)

“You’ve gotta speak up, sweetheart,” Levi mocked between teasing kitten licks against your outer folds. his breath was hot as he exhaled against your damp core. “I’m waiting.”

You felt frustrated tears gather in the corners of your eyes. With an impatient whine, you rolled your hips towards him desperately, eyes wide and pleading for him to do something to fill the empty ache you felt within.

“Not good enough,” Levi growled, tongue lazily circling your entrance, twitching away every time you jerked your hips towards his mouth.

“Levi, please, I—,” you choked off with a frustrated whine. “You’re not being nice — I’m pregnant —,”

The stoic Captain pulled his mouth away from you entirely, rocking back on his heels. From between your thighs, Levi studied you, a renewed heat flaring to life in his steely eyes.

“You are, aren’t you?” He conceded, his eyes locking in on your mouth as you sank your teeth into your bottom lip and mewled. “And all because of me.”

Levi’s eyes dropped back down to your core, slick and aching, ready to take him however he wanted.

“And what kind of father would I be if I made the mother of my child suffer unnecessarily?”

Any response or yearning plea you may have answered him with died in your throat as Levi surged forward, his tongue plunging deep within your entrance, his nose pressing right against that sensitive bundle of nerves at the apex of your thighs.

You just managed to slap your hand over your mouth to stifle the scream he pulled from you as the Captain began to fuck you with his tongue.

You considered yourself to be somewhat an expert on the eccentricities of Levi Ackerman. You knew he preferred two scoops of leaves for his morning cup of tea, but only one and a half in the evenings. You knew when he bathed he followed a precise routine, always washing himself twice before his hair, and that he always used two towels to dry off because he hated trailing water beyond the washroom.

You knew that he was dust and dirt’s greatest nemesis, and that even the slightest bit of clutter or disarray set his teeth on edge. You knew he loathed sharing any space with the cadets because no matter how many times he threatened them, they never seemed to remember to clean up after themselves properly.

You’d learned all of these quirks slowly, over years of proximity and tentative friendship with the brooding captain. You’d coveted each new discovery like some precious jewel, squirreling it away in a mental folder labeled “Levi,” that you periodically turned to whenever he was stressed or on his last nerve.

But there had been one attribute of his that you hadn’t learned about until after your relationship escalated — after he’d hauled you up onto his desk for the very first time and fucked you stupid.

And that insight was this: Levi, Captain of the Survey Corps’ Special Operations Squad and Commander Erwin’s right-hand soldier, ate pussy like a man possessed.

“You’re doing so good, doll,” he groaned between lewd smacks of his mouth against your syrupy folds, his lips and teeth alternating in their ministrations against your clit. “You’re so damn good, giving me a baby, making a father out of me.”

Hearing Levi not only acknowledge your pregnancy but speak as though he were excited the pair of you were venturing into parenthood together made the coil in your belly tighten.

Levi’s hands clamped down around your shins, guiding your legs until they bent at your knees before pushing them up and level with your hips. His fingers splayed around your calves, he used his grip to rock you back and forth against his face, allowing your juices to smear across his lips and jaw until his skin was shiny with your arousal.

He hummed in response to the staccato of “oh fuck, oh fuck — Levi —“ which fell from your lips until you could no longer remember how to form words.

His eyes remained open and fixed pointedly on your face, those gray irises tracking every twitch of your mouth and pinch of your brow. The louder your strangled whimpers became, the harder he moved you, until you were nearly sobbing for him to let you come apart on his tongue.

more levi content soon, babies!

[pr0cyon-lotor]

I was turning my favorite jiuyuan trope (which is older SY with no system if you're curious) around in my head for my own enrichment, and I think I finally know why I like it so much.

(I ramble ↓)

Shen Jiu will never get out of the narrative unscathed. That's just not possible. He's too brash and sharp for the world that punishes that sort of behavior. The strong will suffer and will be forced to persevere. To become Shen Qingqiu, Shen Jiu will suffer no matter what. That's the rule of the world and PIDW.

So to have SY, who is an anomaly in the world and doesn't play according to PIWD's rules, come in as a player it means that the narrative doesn't touch him much. It can't since his mind hasn't been molded to fit PIWD's rules. He escapes wifeplots, dodges characters he recognizes, and avoids sects.

Be it that the system doesn't touch him or simply discarded him as soon as he came in, either way he'll not touch the narrative. So everything he does is because he wants to.

So SY being much older means he's aware of all the rules and can ultimately become a neutral party. Sects don't mean much to him. Rich nobles can't touch an man that lives under no laws. And laws are useless to someone who lives outside of their jurisdiction.

If he meets SJ, SY's habit of helping injured birds will come in. Especially if he doesn't realize SJ will be SQQ. The Qiu name means nothing to him. And Wu Yanzi is just a name to be forgotten about among the sea of names he had heard in his lifetime. Shen Yuan has no reason to judge Shen Jiu.

SY will try to help SJ to the best of his abilities, picking up any pieces SJ can't find and handing them to SJ. But he will not overstep. He lets SJ attempt to fix what is broken; he won't baby SJ. He treats SJ with respect and only helps when it's absolutely necessary.

SY helps SJ he does not try to fix SJ.

Shen Yuan knows Shen Jiu isn't a charity case and doesn't even entertain the idea of this brash and sharp kid being a helpless creature. He simply gives the injured bird a splint to fix its wing. He doesn't stop it from hunting or scavenging for food. He only helps when Shen Jiu asks for it.

Shen Yuan plans to leave the bird once it's healed (no need to overstay your welcome y'know?). At that point Shen Jiu refuses to leave. Adults and men alike have let SJ down, tried to baby him, or hurt him. So to have someone older than him not only be a man, respect him, care for him, and even aid him of course he'd become attached.

Shen Jiu is attached and proclaims that he will make Shen Yuan his. (Shen Yuan is shocked and confused, but when is he not?)

I just love prickly and sharp characters realizing that they can soften up towards one person because they won't be punished for it. Even more so if they become stupidly attracted to that person. ❤️

Also I love it when one person is somewhat put together so they can help someone else, who is doing much worse, put themselves back together. ❤️❤️

Also old man Shen Yuan is iconic. ❤️❤️❤️

[ariundercovers]

When Paths Cross (Javier Peña x Reader)

Pairing: Javier Peña x Afab!Reader (No use of y/n!)

Length: ~7k words

Summary: Chucho's been like a father figure to you since he helped you out of a sticky situation on your second day in Laredo. What happens when you finally meet his son, the former-DEA agent, who just happens to ignite you in a way that you haven't felt before?

Warnings: explicit 18+ graphic descriptions of sex, p in v, fingering, oral (f receiving), alcohol consumption, spanish nicknames, idk what else its honestly pretty chill

a/n: This idea came to me partially in a semi-lucid dream but then I ran with it and it rotted my brain until I could get it fully out onto a page. I really love this concept, so I'll be doing at least a sequel, which is already in progress! Sorry for letting the smut get away from me. Javi possessed me, you can blame him for this. I hope you enjoy it!

Read the next part (II) HERE

Laredo was just about what you expected it might be. 

Simultaneously urban and rural, with the Rio Grande rushing right through it, it was a huge shift, moving from the northeast down to the US-Mexico border. But you liked the museum that hired you and it was a step up, or two really, in your career. You had always wanted the freedom of being the head curator of an institution.

So it goes without saying that when you took the job, you weren’t in it to be making friends. Yet, here you are, on the outskirts of town once again, hand raised as you reach for the knocker of the old farmhouse and tapping it against the door twice.

Chucho opens the door in his wide-brimmed hat with a big smile on his face.

“Come in, come in! We’re almost ready.” He leads you into the house, one hand gently on your lower back as he pushes you toward the kitchen. There's a man standing there, hip propped against the counter with a glass of whiskey in his hand. He’s wearing the most frustratingly well-fitted flannel shirt you think you’ve ever seen and a pristinely trimmed mustache on his face. He lifts his glass almost imperceptively toward you and nods as Chucho steps in, gesturing toward him. 

“This is my son, Javier.”

The man smiles at you, eyes trailing up and down your body once or twice before he gives a curt nod. “Just Javi is good, too.” 

You nod back and offer your name as well, feeling a bit of heat radiating in your cheeks from his intense stare. You turn away from him to Chucho and ask him, “Anything I can do to help? I brought pastelillos de guayaba - where I’m from you don’t dare show up at someone’s house empty-handed. I hope that’s okay?” He takes the tin from you with a grin and walks it over to the counter, setting it down.

“I’m sure they’ll be wonderful. Thank you. Why don’t you have a seat?” He pulls out one of the dining room chairs and you do as he asks, eyes flitting back and forth between him and Javi as you go. 

They bring the food out to the table relatively quickly as you all sit down for a shared meal. The conversation is easy like you’ve fit in with them forever and not just for the last few hours. There are no awkward lulls like you’re used to, just warmth and camaraderie and an easygoing sense that you’re not sure you’ve ever experienced before. It’s captivating, and you want more of it.

After dessert, Javi brings out the whiskey, which Chucho promptly declines, but the two of you continue to drink as you all chat. Sometime later, when Chucho stands up and announces he’s turning in for the evening, you look at your watch and see that it’s past midnight. You really had wanted to be home by now. And now you feel like you’ve overstayed your welcome, too.

“Oh, shit. I didn’t realize how late it was, I’m so sorry, Chucho-”

He shakes his head ‘no’ in response and offers you a smile as he tucks in his chair. “No, no. I’m an old man. You young people please feel free to continue. I’ve only met my limit on waking hours today. Thank you for coming.”

“Of course, Chucho. Thank you for having me.” You stand up and walk over, wrapping him up in a big hug before he heads off and you turn, heading back for your seat once again. You go to reach for your jacket on the back of the chair, but Javi stands and leans across the table to stop you with a gentle hand on your wrist.

“Wait. You don’t have to go just yet, you’ve been drinking.” You sigh, knowing he’s right, but you only nursed two whiskeys all night long and are feeling tired beyond anything else.

“I’m okay, I don’t want to overstay. It’s been such a lovely evening. But I should get going home.” You stop reaching for the jacket, but you look at him sternly. He narrows his eyes for a moment.

“It’s a hike back into the city though, isn’t it?”

“A bit. Maybe half an hour or so.”

He pauses and takes a breath before he responds. “Let me drive you at least.”

You shake your head and sigh, hating to be troubling them so much. “I can’t ask that, then someone would have to come get me in the morning for my car, too? I don’t want to burden you all. It’s alright, I’ll manage.”

He tugs the jacket out of your hands and places it back on the table, still holding onto your wrist. “Come on, muñeca, give me something. If you won’t let me drive you then why don’t you just stay? You can head out first thing in the morning if you need. The guest bedroom is all made up already, and then you’re not driving back this late. Take it easy.” 

You sigh. His logic is sound, but you feel terrible about imposing do heavily on them after they cooked such a lovely meal for you and invited you over in the first place. The internal conflict is apparent on your face. Javi raises his glass then with a smirk. “I’ll offer you another drink? Or two. Three? However many you want, chiquita.”

You laugh lightly at the nickname and can’t help but smile back, slowly letting your guard down as you set your hands back down on the chair. “Alright. I’ll stay. But you owe me at least one more drink.” He smiles widely at you and moves over to the liquor cabinet, pulling out a clearly expensive bottle of tequila and showing it to you.

“What do you think? Or we can go back to the whiskey, instead.” Your little laugh turns into a full on giggle as he pulls out the tequila and you looks up at him from where you’ve seated yourself back down with a smile.

“Oh you can always get me to drink tequila.” He brings it back over to the table along with two ceramic shot cups, pouring you each a small cup before he takes a seat and pops the lid back onto the bottle. He raises his cup to you and you match his motions with your own.

“To… fresh starts.” He smiles as he says it, and you can tell his sincerity from his tone alone let alone the easy expression on his face.

“Fresh starts,” you repeat, clinking your glasses together before you each down the shot in an easy swallow. You hum, contemplating the taste, and nod along with it. “Oh that is good tequila. Dangerous.”  Javi laughs at your response but agrees with you, pouring a second small cup for each of them.

“We know a family in New Laredo with a tequila business close to Cancún. We always get it from them.” You nod and lift your glass, sipping at the liquid this time to get more of the taste. You contemplate it for a long while before Javi speaks up again, eyes searing into your own. “Thank you, also. For indulging him. He’s been talking about this all week, I’m just glad he has something to obsess over more than just me coming home.”

You tilt your head at him as he talks, noting the sincerity behind his eyes as he explains. It warms your heart that Chucho feels so strongly about your presence already. He’s been such a guiding light for you since the moment you arrived in town. “Its not an indulgence at all, Javi,” you respond. “I love Chucho. He’s been like a father to me ever since I got here, I honestly don’t know what I would’ve done without him. Maybe turned around and run back north already.” 

Javi chuckles at your description and reaches across the table to squeeze your wrist again. Your skin burns where his touches your own. “Well, thank you, anyway. It’s good to see him excited about something that isn’t me.”

“I should be thanking you, really,” you counter. “Thank you for letting me borrow him.”

He snorts then, laughing boisterously. “Muñeca, you can borrow him any time you want. No reservation required.” He laughs again and it makes you think back to the first time you ended up on this property - by accident. 

It was only your second day in town and you were just driving around, trying to get your bearings. Somehow, you missed the fact that after a certain point the streets and roads are no longer numbered or labeled, and you found yourself crisscrossing through farms and ranches without any idea which way was up and which way was down. You parked your car on the side of the road and cried, hard, with no way to figure out where to go from there. The gas tank only had a few more miles left on it and you felt screwed. You just wanted to go home. 

This place wasn’t meant for you.

But then, Chucho, like a guardian angel, came walking out from the ranch, right over to your car. Afraid that he’d yell at you to get off of his property, you rolled down your window and immediately started apologizing profusely, trying to explain your newness and inability to navigate the outskirts. You were afraid, worried that he’d go off on you or worse, but instead, he put a hand on your door and leaned into the open window with a gentle smile.

“Señorita. You look lost. Why don’t you slow it down, try that again, and I’ll figure out how to help you out of here?” The rest is history. He drove you to a gas station, picked up some gas for your car, filled it for you, and then gave you directions back into the city from the ranch. He didn’t let you try to follow them yourself though - he drove ahead of you, leading you the entire way. You don’t think you’ve ever been so grateful to another person in your life.

He invited you back to the ranch the next week, and since then, it’s been a bit of a standing date. You come over, ask him a million questions about the town and the area, and inevitably you help him with some kind of technology issue or bring him a home-cooked meal of some kind, one of the few pastimes you were more than glad to bring back with you to Laredo.

So, when Javi suggests that you were indulging Chucho, it sets a fire of laughter in your belly. If anything, you think he might be indulging you.

“I meant it, Javi. Thank you,” you counter. “You have an amazing dad. I wish I could steal him as my own, sometimes.” Blinking back at you, an interesting expression crosses his face for a brief moment. It’s so brief that you almost miss it, before he turns back into his smirking, good-looking self.

“Well, don’t think me coming home means you mean any less to him. I know it’s only been a couple of weeks, but he’s happy to have you around. I think he gets lonely out here.” 

“I would, too, if I were out here by myself all the time. But… he’ll be less lonely now, right? With you around again? Or are you not planning on staying?” You briefly wonder if this line of questioning is too intrusive, but you’re genuinely curious about it, so you let it slip anyway.

“Not sure, just yet. Sticking around for a while. Gotta figure out where things lead me next. Been thinking about taking over the ranch for him eventually, but I’ve never been the best rancher. Not like he is. Lots to learn.” You nod in agreement and sip at your tequila again.

“Makes sense. I’m sure tons goes into running a ranch like this. It’s a huge property, too. Chucho gave me both the walking tour and the horseback tour.”  Javi’s brows raise in surprise and he makes a face of approval.

“See, that’s how I know you’re special. Anybody can get a walking tour, but the horseback tour? That’s only for the best of the best.” You laugh a little to yourself again, loosened slightly by the tequila and made shockingly comfortable in Javi’s presence by his gentle banter.

“That so?” 

You realize, then, that his hand still hasn’t left your wrist.

You swallow thickly and he forces a response, eyes burning into you like sunshine through a magnifying glass. “Yeah. That’s so.”

There’s a long lull in the conversation as you look at each other, neither of you willing to break the eye contact that, in most situations, you’d feel horribly uncomfortable with. With Javi, however? It somehow feels… right. 

His thumb swipes across the bottom of your forearm, stroking your skin softly with that molten hot touch of his. It feels like it’s melting both your brain and your soul, breaking you down into a puddle for him that can barely remember its own name. His voice is smooth like whiskey when he breaks the comfortable silence. 

“You got someone waiting for you at home?”

You answer before you can think too hard about the question, which is probably a good thing. You’d likely clam up if you thought about the connotations too hard. “Home here or home home?”

He smirks and snickers for a moment, leaning in toward you across the table. 

“Either. Both.”

All you can do is shake your head, ‘no’, as he leans in further, one hand reaching up to your cheek as he brushes his thumb across your bottom lip.

“Good. I like that answer.”

Swallowing heavily, you feel the way your breath hitches in your throat, the way you naturally open your mouth a little for him, already overly willing to respond to his beck and call. Lifting your arm, you place your palm on the back of his, stroking the side of his wrist as he tugs your lip down for a moment before releasing it.

“Que linda muñequita…” Your hand trails down his arm, stopping to wrap around his elbow and lower bicep, squeezing softly. How can something so simple, so basic as eye contact and the palm of one’s hand, feel so damn erotic? You’re completely lost to it.

“Unos labios tan preciosos... besables, creo.” You blink back another sigh but can’t help the little whimper that falls from your mouth, closing your eyes in embarrassment as you take a long, slow, deep breath. His thumb slides away from your mouth, then, and you’re already regretting not having more control over yourself for a long moment until suddenly your train of thought is completely broken as there are a pair of warm, smooth lips on yours, moving slowly as his hand urges you closer to him.

You’re stunned by it, frozen in shock for a long while before your hand is squeezing his arm tightly and you’re kissing him back, meeting his every movement as the heat between you two quickens faster than you could have ever imagined. Your free hand floats up to the side of his neck, winding into the back of his hair and tugging slightly, like you might just float away if he pulls away from you now.

His lips are heavenly. Perfectly smooth, pouty, and plump, and the glorious scratch of his mustache on your upper lip while you kiss him sends you reeling. It’s not like you’ve been thinking about it all night, or anything.

His tongue darts out from between his lips, teasing along the seam of your own, and you open them for him happily, letting him lead as he starts to explore your mouth, tangling his tongue with your own. Another little moan slips out and you get the most gorgeously deep and rumbling groan from low in his chest as a reward.

“Muñeca… You’re killin’ me. That pretty mouth ‘a yours is making the most perfect little sounds for me already.” He pulls away from you and you gape at him, lips swollen and spit-shined and you have the delirious urge to bite that offensively gorgeous lower lip of his. He swipes his thumb across his own lip this time, a wild smirk on the side of his mouth as he stands, releasing you completely and stepping to the side so that he can push his chair in.

You’re nervous for a moment that you’ve been reading this wrong all along and have just managed to fuck it all up somehow, worried that you’ll have to walk out on Javi and Chucho, until Javi reaches his hand out to you, offering you help out of your chair. You take it, of course, staring up at him as you stand. He continues to look at you with that chilling smirk across his lips, quickly turning downright devilish.

“Pretty little thing you are.” He twirls you around in front of him, watching closely as he devours you with his burning gaze. You stop then when you’ve made a full 360, glad for the gentle reminder that, actually, you’re still not drunk yet. 

Thank fuck. You really want to remember this come morning.

There’s a question that’s threatening to rise to the surface, and you’re just loose enough that it starts to blurt out before you even havea  chance to stop it. “But what do we do about-” 

Javi cuts you off with a ‘shhh’ and a finger to your lips. “Don’t you worry that pretty head about a thing. We’ll figure it out in the morning. We’re two adults, no? Wouldn’t be the worst thing to get caught sneaking around.” You chuckle nervously and shrug.

“You don’t think Chucho would be mad?” Javi laughs then, a wide, genuine smile on his face as he does. 

“Oh no. I didn’t say that. He’ll be mad, but definitely not mad at you.” You sigh, put at ease by that statement, because Chucho was there first, and it was his home and his invitation and, in all honesty, It makes you a little sick to your stomach to think about doing something that would upset him and disrespect him so much. You blink back at Javi a few times and nod in agreement.

“Are you sure about that?” He places his hand at the side of your neck and leans forward, pressing his lips to yours once more before he’s pulling back just enough to whisper.

“Promise. I wouldn’t risk messing with the two of you - he needs you, and it seems like you need him, too. Now come on, time for bed, I think. Are you joining me in mine?”

Your body lets out an involuntary ‘squeak’ at his words, and as you watch him turn and walk down the hall. He pauses in the entryway, turning to look at you with his head cocked to the ide.

“You don’t have to, darlin’. Guest room is just down the hall - last room on the right. Mine’s just across the way. Your choice, I won’t hold it against you if you don’t want to.” He winks and smiles at you, melting your heart down just a little bit further, and then he turns once more, disappearing into the room you assume must be his. Chucho went the opposite direction to get to bed - you figure he must be in the master suite in a different part of the house - but it’s difficult to know you’d have to pass by Javi’s on the way to the guest bedroom anyway. 

How can you possibly say no? To that glorious hunk of a man? 

The chemistry between you two is palpable. You felt it like electricity from the moment you walked into the farmhouse this evening. It’s like the entire air around you was charged with static, somehow simultaneously pulling you in toward him and keeping you at an arm’s length away.

Fuck it. You moved here for you. You can fuck who you want to, too.

Before you have a chance to chicken out and change your mind, you walk briskly down the hall and pause in his doorway, staring in at the now topless man, sprawled across his bed as he looks up at you. 

“You still want me?” You ask.

He sits up quickly with a reply, “That I do, muñequita. Come on baby, come inside.” He sits up and pushes himself off of the bed, taking two short strides before he’s on top of you once again, pushing you off to the side and up against the wall just next to the door. One arm plants firmly against the wall next to your head, his torso within breathing distance of your own, and the other arm reaches to close the door slowly, letting the latch slowly settle into place with a ‘click’. He’s staring at you again, eyes meeting yours directly all the while. It’s so jarring to feel so seen by someone you hardly know, and yet so comforting at once.

Leaning in slowly, he brings your lips back together as he releases the doorknob and wraps his large hand against your hip and lower back, tugging your hips into his. You let out a breathy sigh from your nose as hips tongue presses back into your mouth, licking into every nook and cranny he can manage. 

There’s more passion, more pent up frustration to this kiss now that you’re in the comfort and safety of his bedroom, no longer at the whim of any possible prying eyes. Reaching up to his chest, your hands find his shoulders, pulling you more tightly into him as you reach up into his embrace. You keep your mouth open for him as you squirm, already feeling the rush of slick that is traveling to your core.

You’re breathless when he pulls away, his eyes several shades darker as he looks at you. “Fuck, Javi…” 

Half of his face turns up in a lopsided grin. “That’s the plan, muñequita,” and then he’s trailing his lips down your throat, biting lightly at your pulse point before his fingers start to work their way under the hem of your shirt. “I’d really like to get this gone though, that alright with you?”

The way he checks in with you before he just goes ahead and does it sends a shiver of appreciation down your spine. You don’t think you’ve ever been treated that well by a partner before, never been asked or confirmed with before doing. You arch up into his touch and shake your head frantically up and down, not wanting him to waste another second than he has to. “Please, Javi.”

The smirk on his face turns wicked as his hands meet at your shirt hem and tug it overhead. One wraps around your hips and the other around your back, unclasping your bra with a skilled precision that rivals your own ability to undress yourself in a rush. The bra slips forward off your shoulders so you let it pool to the ground, and then, in what feels like the blink of an eye, he’s managed to lose both your pants and his, and pour you both into the extraordinarily well-cushioned bed.

He’s on top of you, caging you in with his legs and arms, and you can feel the excessively well-hung length of him through his boxers, leaving very little left to the imagination as his cock hangs hard and heavy against your hip. It’s subconscious when you roll your hips up into his, but you groan at the friction and at the way you're able to feel him for the first time without the restrictiveness of denim in the way.

Javi nuzzles his cheek against yours for a moment, taking the time to gain back some of the intimacy that was lost in the fight to undress as quickly as possible. “Gotta get you nice n’ warmed up for me, darlin’. Alright?” You can hear the southern drawl start to come out the more worked up he gets, and it only adds to your arousal. He sits back on his heels, straddling your thighs, and shifts to spread your legs out wide on either side of his hips. He presses your thighs open and stares down at your still-clothed pussy, pausing for a long moment to just look at the very boring black underwear you just happened to have on today. 

He moves his hands to trail up and down the sides of your torso. He traces your ribs, your abdomen, the outsides of your breasts, until he settles with his hands just barely cupping the fleshy mounds of your tits. He hums, leaning down to press a kiss to the skin between them, and then up to your sternum, where he lingers, lavishing his tongue along your skin as he works across to one collarbone, and then the other. Your eyes close gently as you press your chest up into him, seeking out the contact hastily as his hand drops to the hemline of your panties, fingertips just teasing beneath it. 

“Oh fuck. Javi, I… can you- can you please touch me?” Your wanton need is so visible now, so palpable, that you can’t help but resort to begging. You need to feel him against you, inside of you. You’re dying for it. 

“Greedy little thing, are you? Hm… I suppose I can fulfill that request.” He smirks down at you, having abandoned your breasts for a moment while he moves his hands to your clothed core. Reaching for the band of them then, he pulls your legs together, up and off of his hips just enough to slide them off of you, and then tosses them to the side as he settles your legs right back down around his thighs. His fingers ghost along every curve he can find - your thighs, your mound, the outside of your folds, your lower belly. It’s a searing touch, one you’re grateful for as it short circuits your brain and makes you feel like a comfortable liquid, all for him. 

“Trying to take my time with you, muñeca, but you’re making it damn difficult.” Your breath stutters and you whimper a bit, reaching up for his neck to pull him down into a heavy kiss. 

You whisper back, “Then don’t take your time, Javi. Just fuck me.”

He chuckles a bit at that and acquiesces to the kiss, lips and tongues tangling with one another as your hands work their way into his hair. You tug - you can’t help it - and he moans at the feeling as you finally manage to suck that perfect bottom lip into your mouth, biting down gently. 

Javi groans in response, low and deep from his chest, and it’s like the reward you didn’t know you needed. Something snaps a bit in you as your ministrations speed up - kissing him faster, harder, and letting your hands wander down to the swell of his ass. You squeeze there, tucking your hands into the band of his boxer, and pull his hips closer to yours as you do so. 

“No patience, baby. I told you - need to get you warmed up for me.” His head dips low as he takes up a nipple in his mouth, suckling gently on the sensitive bud. You keen, pressing your chest up into him once again as his other hand leaves your mound and moves to pinch lightly at your other nipple, leaving neither without the perfect stimulation. 

He switches then, mouth moving to the other side, and you let your eyes close gently while he works you over. Javi stays there for a long while, moving back and forth between your breasts, until you’re absolutely squirming beneath him, begging for some touch in the place you need it most. 

“Please, Javi, I want your fingers. Need them.” He pulls off your nipple with a ‘pop’ and quirks a brow at you as he leans in for another quick kiss. 

“Need them, huh? Well… I always tend to my partners’ needs, so I suppose I must.” He chuckles lightly and presses his lips to your forehead, then cheek, then throat, sitting back into his heels again as he spreads your thighs open wide once more. This time, when he’s staring down at your core, there’s no cloth in the way of him taking everything in. His gaze is once again searing - it feels like he might burn a new hole right through your body if he isn’t careful enough - but the look he offers you in return is nothing short of famished. He’s craving you just as much as you’re craving him, needs you like a man starved.

He moves his thumbs to your folds, pulling them apart so that he can stare inside even better. Letting a line of spit fall out of his mouth, it lands directly on your clit, and you realize that you’ve never felt so simultaneously dirty and hot at the same time. His thumbs massage the outsides of your folds for a few moments more before he’s collecting the spit with one of them and using it to rub small, gentle circles just beneath your clit. Then he’s dipping the tip of his thumb into your entrance and your back is arching for him, silently begging for more. 

“She’s so greedy. Pretty, too.” Somehow him talking about your cunt like it’s its own person has you reeling even further. It makes your head spin at the lewdness of it all. “She’s dyin’ for my fingers, I think. Gonna let her have ‘em.” He smiles up at you then as he presses his index finger into you, slowly sinking from one knuckle to the next until it’s buried deep and he’s crooking it upward in just the perfect way that somehow has you already seeing stars. 

You grind your hips down onto his sole finger, already needing more, but he knows your body well enough already and as soon as the thought can take any legitimate root in your brain, he’s pressing another in just next to the first. 

“Ohhh, Javi-” Your eyes close once again, riding out the waves of pleasure onto his fingers while he scissors them inside of you, alternating between stretching you out and crooking them up perfectly into your g-spot. You plant your heels onto the bed on either side of him, letting your knees open wide to the sides to give him whatever access he wants. 

You want to give him all of it. 

“That’s a good girl. Look how wrecked you are for me, already. Mierda. I can’t wait to give you my cock, muñeca.” His free hand smooths along the inside of your thighs for a long while until he’s gripping tightly to one of your knees and pulling his fingers out of you, flipping you over onto your hands and knees. “Just keep your ass up for me, just like this.”

You do as instructed, settling your weight back into your knees as you suddenly feel something hot and wet at your entrance. It’s his tongue, you realize, swirling around and gathering up what feels like a copious amount of slick that he’s pulled out of you already. He laps at you sloppily, licking broad stripes from above your clit to your opening each time. He presses a kiss to it then, humming with pleasure, and then his tongue is replaced by three fingers this time, moving slowly and carefully into your core. 

“Had to fuckin taste you. Such a perfect little pussy, couldn’t go another second without it.” You groan deeply into the mattress, face pressed to the side as he continues to work his fingers down to the knuckle. He curls them too, using the added finger to press into that spongy spot inside of you while scissoring the others and it has you seeing stars already, perfectly working you up toward a building orgasm that you had no idea was lingering so close in the horizon. 

“Oh, oh shit… Javi. I’m not-I’m- fuck I’m gonna cum!” You bury your face into the mattress as you moan, trying to keep yourself as quiet as possible, and you roll your hips roughly. He chuckles and leans down, pressing kisses and little nips to the globe of your ass while he works his fingers into you so perfectly. 

“Good, muñequita. Be a good little doll and cum for me.” His words hit you like a ton of bricks, and so you do just that. It’s an instantaneous one, not the kind that feels like a slow roll to the finish line, but one that explodes out of seemingly nowhere, making your fingers and toes curl as he works you through it. You cry out, burying your face in the sheets in hopes of muffling the sound, and grind your hips back onto him, driving his fingers in even deeper. He takes you across the finish line and further still, slowing his ministrations, but never completely stopping until you’re a whining, needy mess beneath him.

He stands, walking over to the nightstand to fish out a condom and roll it carefully into his length. “I think you’re ready to take me now, muñeca.” He drags you sideways across the bed to meet him where he is now, and in barely a moment you can feel himself notching himself between your folds, drawing the tip of his angry cock up and down through the copious wetness there that will ease his path inside of you.

“Please, Javi, please.” You press your ass backward into him, hoping to punctuate your point with your own body, and you can hear him groan as you do so, one hand grips your hip tightly as the other aims his cock, the head just breaching past your opening. You curse under your breath - he’s a big boy - and he shifts to grip your opposite hip with his other hand, using them as leverage to pull you back slowly onto his cock, inch by inch until your ass is flush with his hip bones. 

He has you impaled on him now, just waiting right there, buried deep inside you for a long while as he heaves out a sigh and rolls his hips experimentally into you. You keen, lolling your head forward he hits places inside of you that have rarely been touched.

But then, he starts moving, and it’s like getting transported to a different dimension. Every thrust erupts a flurry of sparks in your vision, sends a shiver or a crackle of static all the way up your spine. And the sounds he makes - the fucking sounds, Javier - send you reeling. He’s driving into you with a reckless abandon, pulling whines and moans out of you that you do your best to fight down, but you can’t manage completely.

He notices - of course he does - and reaches forward, scooping up your upper body so your’e upright on your knees with his arm tightly around your waist, huge hand holding just beneath your breast. His other hand wraps around your mouth, tugging your head back to his chest as he continues to pump himself up into you. 

Well, fuck. You’re fucking close again. 

How? How does he have this kind of instant effect on you like this? You’re amazed, but you don’t have the brainpower to sit and think about it right now, anyway. Your mind and body are both too full of Javi and Javi only to be able to think about anything else.

“Shhh, muñequita. Quiet, now. You can do it.” His whispered words are hot in your ear, sandwiched between heady moans that set your belly alight with the arousal of it all. The arm around your waist dips lower, then, his large hand reaching for your clit as he starts to rub harsh circles into it. The brief moment of lucid clarity in your mind makes you think you can sense a shift to his thrusts, like a bit of a hitch or a stutter, and realize he’s probably getting close, too. You’d beg him to cum for you if you could, but his hand is so tight around your mouth he wouldn’t hear you even if you tried. 

Instead, you reach one hand behind you and around him, gripping tightly to his hip as if to ask him for harder, more, deeper, something, and the other reaches down to feel for the place where the two of you are most intimately connected, feel the shaft and slick and pull of where he’s spearing himself into you so deliciously.

He grunts a few times, head dropping to your shoulder for a brief moment as his hips stutter, and he admits, “You’re gonna make me come, baby. Fuck. Squeezin’ me so fuckin’ perfect like that, I can’t last.” You whine in response, wish you could tell him you don’t need him to last, just need him to keep fucking you, just like this, for a few more moments, and few more seconds, and then-

Then, suddenly, you’re crashing again, tumbling over the edge and into a pool of all things Javier Peña that you’re not entirely sure you’ll ever be able to pull yourself back out of again. You don’t particularly know if you even want to right now, content to let yourself meld into his body as your orgasm takes you over, body shaking and writhing with the sensations of it all. You can feel your walls squeezing him tightly, massaging him as they ripple around his thick, heavy cock, and then he grunts a few more times and he’s spilling over, too.

You pant together, breaths heaving against one another as you both still and start to settle, catching your breath. Javi releases your mouth, moves his hand from your clit, and eases you back down to the bed as he reaches down to hold the condom in place, pulling out carefully and gently rolling you over onto your back. He smiles down at you for a moment with a blissed out expression that you think might rival your own, before he bends over, kissing you softly on the lips and then the forehead as he finally speaks up.

“One moment, baby. Be right back.” 

He leaves the room briefly, you figure likely to go to the bathroom to clean up. When he comes back in he has a warm washcloth which he uses to wipe you down completely, and then himself, before tossing it at the hamper in the corner of the room. Climbing back into the bed, he wraps his arms around you, tugging you into his chest to be the little spoon, and then reaches down to the foot of the bed where the sheets are all bunched up. He pulls them over the two of you and settles back down behind you, lips meeting your upper arm, then shoulder, collar bone, and neck as he peppers kisses all along your exposed, sweaty skin.

“I feel like I don’t even need to ask, muñequita, but I’m going to anyway. Was that as good for you as it was for me?” You chuckle, turning over slightly, just enough so you can look at him with a big, stupid grin on your face.

“Oh, yes, Javi. That was fantastic. Stupidly, perfectly, amazingly, phenomenal. Maybe it was even better for me,” you tease him, but think it might actually be true. He smiles back at you and leans in to press another soft, tender kiss on your lips. You kiss him back just as sweetly, one hand lifting to rest gently on the arm he has wrapped around the front of your body. “I don’t usually… I don’t usually do that. Well, this… with random people? It’s, um… definitely not the norm for me.” 

He chuffs in response and rolls his eyes. “You don’t need to prove anything to me, muñeca. And, if it makes you feel any better, it’s really not so random. There’s a lot of backstory there.” You nod, admitting to yourself that he’s correct. You just never expected to be here when you met Chucho all those weeks ago. This was not the outcome you were hoping for - though you also have to admit, you can’t bring yourself to complain about it, either. You’re lost in your thoughts when he interrupts you with another kiss. “Get some sleep. I’ll make you breakfast in the morning and we can talk about… this. Okay?”

You smile, pretty happy with that answer. There was a part of you that assumed Javi wouldn’t want anything to do with you afterward, but you’re glad that the connection the two of you seemed to have from the moment you laid eyes on each other wasn’t just a one-way street. He must have felt it too.

“Yeah, okay.” He smiles and nuzzles his forehead against your cheek, urging you back down onto the pillow.

“Good. Get some rest. I’ll wake you up in the morning.”

The sound of his steady breathing and the beating of his heart ease you back into your exhaustion, which you had promptly forgotten about during the fucking. No complaints there, though.

“Mmhmm,” you mumble out, and before you know it, you’re asleep in his arms.

~~~

Read part II HERE

A/N: If you don't mind, please drop a like, comment, or reblog! They keep me going and I love your feedback! I'll be posting a next part very soon - it's almost finished!

[frostyhelltime]

Hi again! I would love if you could write possesive or jealous Rosie. Whichever you prefer and feel works best. Thank you in advance!

A/N: I love our prim and proper Overlord of Cannibal Town! Hope you enjoy! ❤️

Jealous/Possessive Rosie with GN!Reader

Rosie in general is very good at maintaining her composure. After all she barely even flinched when the angel's head was taken out and thrown on the table during the Overlords meeting.

It takes a lot to get her to break that composure. Normally, anyway.

But it is possible, and it's certainly much easier when it comes to you.

There are the small times it slips through, such as when someone happened to be hitting on you while waiting for her.

She'll cheerfully call your name, even using pet names such as dear or darling while she wraps her arm around yours, very clearly trying to send a message.

To anyone else if would just seem like a show of affection. But you knew Rosie enough to know this was her way of marking her territory in a way the doesn't appear to break her composure to the general public.

But you keep that secret of hers.

One of many reasons she loves you.

Now if someone has the audacity to hit on you even after you said no, or worse, in her territory....that composure breaks just a little more obviously to the naked eye.

"Oh darlin' you're gonna have to try this newest batch of lady fingers! I think I really outdid myself this time!" Rosie's voice is all cheer and smiles as she brings out the newest thing she's made.

You of course, trust her cooking implicitly and graciously take one before taking a bite.

"Woah! It's good. Has a kick to it, but good." You nod, looking it over as if trying to figure out what the flavor was.

"Oh excellent! I wanted to surprise Al since he's finally back in town so I've been messing around with some Cajun flavors! I think I really got it on this one!" She's got such a chipper edge to her voice because she's happy she succeeded, and you can't help but smile. Rosie was always so sweet, sometimes she felt like a beacon of light in hell just for you, and from the way her citizens talked about her, you would say they agree too.

"Oh he's gonna love it, I'm sure." You smile, leaning over to kiss her cheek, which just further keeps her energy up.

"I'm gonna go ahead and bring them out so I can put them on display and start selling 'em." Rosie smiles, giddy as she leans over and presses her lips to yours in a chaste and sweet kiss.

When she comes back though you seem visibly distressed, another person's hands even on you. She quickly puts down what item was in her hand and makes a beeline to the two of you. She is still smiling but there's a heat to her eyes that is dangerous, and a slight venom in her words.

"May I ask what you're doing?" She cocks her head to the side politely, giving them a chance to apologize and learn some manners.

"Just trying to convince a sweet thing to take a chance on me."

Ah. Well. She tried.

"I think you should leave." Rosie says coldly, although she is still smiling politely.

"What? No. I'm sure I can convince them."

You are clearly not anywhere close to considering going anywhere with this person. At the person's statement Rosie just laughs, placing a hand over her chest as if she had just heard the funniest joke.

"I was not asking, dear."

The man stills a moment from how ice cold her voice is now, and he looks at her as if trying to size her up. But before he can decide what to do she's speaking again.

"If you would like to continue to overstay your welcome, I should have you know that as their Overlord, I take care of all of my souls here in Cannibal Town very diligently...and I've never been one to let them...go hungry." Her smile is still there, polite, as if she were simply asking him if he needed help with anything today. Her threat is indirect but the message is received loud and clear and they let you go, quickly making their way out.

Once they're gone Rosie relaxes, shoulders no longer tense. She turns to you, peppering your face with kisses a moment, to which you just laugh in delighted joy.

"I'm sorry I didn't realize earlier they were harassing you."

But you quickly comfort her and tell her she came just in time. She looks worried for a split second, as if trying to figure out if you're actually okay, when you speak up.

"Why don't we go visit the hotel? Deliver these special lady fingers to Alastor personally?" You suggest, knowing Alastor's company was always a good mood boost for Rosie, and her helpful nature meant she would enjoy giving a gift to someone she cares about. So she smiles and nods, worry leaving her face as she relaxes a little more.

"Yes, I think you're right. That sounds just lovely." She agrees, holding her arm out for you to hold onto so you can both start the walk there.

[writing-fanics]

| brightest star | Our!Ciel Phantomhive x Fem!Reader

| summary: y/n was told to follow the brightest star in the night sky, and now that very star was burning out with recent events, as secrets and lord are revealed |

She held a candelabra as she walked down a dark hallway toward the young master's chambers. She sensed his unease and decided to make warm milk with sugar to help him sleep. She opened, the door and found him sitting up in bed unable to sleep.

"I sensed your unease and made some warm milk and sugar." She said, and he looked up at her with a faint smile. As if glad she was the one to enter rather than Sebastian.

She handed him a warm milk and sugar drink. He tapped the empty space beside him and she sat on the other side of the bed. She took a sip from her mug, revealing a scar on her arm from the Campania. Despite being a demon, she never feasted on a soul and only ate human food. To fully heal, she needed rest.

He'd never been more scared in his life at that moment on the ship when she passed out in his arms as she bled out from the wound sustained from death scythe. He didn't want to lose another person he cared about.

“My mother, used to tell me to follow the brightest star in the sky.” She said smiling, as she looked down at the warm milk.

She chuckled softly as if reliving the moment. "My mother used to hold me and point to the brightest star in the night sky. She'd say, 'If I'm not here, follow that star and I'll be near.' " She took a sip of the warm milk, reminded of her mother.

She then turned towards him, “That stars name, Sirius.” She said, and he looked at her not saying a word.

“I even named my cat, Sirius,”

He couldn’t help but look at her and scoff, just as he named Sebastian after his dog. She named her cat after…

“He was the cutest little black cat ever, and had the most softest fur and cutest meows.” She said, looking at him.

“You sound just like, Sebastian.” He said, and she giggled, at what he said.

“Like father like daughter,” she said, raising the mug to her lips and taking another sip of warm milk.

Before pausing, she knew he had his reasons of keeping such a deep rooted lie. “I don’t blame you,” she said, looking down at the warm milk that was slowly starting to cool off. She rubbed the mug with her thumb before turning to look at him.

He looked at her and looked away, as if wanting to avoid the conversation. “I’ve also been lying,” She said, and he looked at her in shock.

“Pfft, who isn’t lying everyone lies that’s what people do.” He said, and she looked at him.

She finished her mug and placed it on the nightstand before turning to him. "People have their reasons, just as you had your own, and I have mine."

She then gives him a playful side eye, “Like Y/n isn’t my actual name.” She said, and he looked at her and she grinned.

He asked if y/n was her real name. She grinned and explained that it was her human name and she couldn't reveal her demon name because it was too terrifying. He gave her a deadpan stare, unamused.

She shook her head, smirking. "Don't give me that look, young master," she said before turning to face him. Leaning in, she whispered her true name - something she had never done before, and would only do for someone she trusts.

As the demonic whispers subsided, she pulled back and her eyes returned to the same color as her father. "No need to tell me your real name. You can tell me when you're ready, or never." She said, smiling and he looked at her and then looked away.

"But, I will say"

She smiled at him and said, "I've always liked the name Sirius. It's the brightest star in the night sky. It's always been there for me, and now it's my turn to be there for him," despite her panicked heart, she wanted to support him through the rough time.

She decided to give him some space and got out of bed, grabbing her mug from the nightstand. "I should go, I've already overstayed my welcome," she said.

She felt a grip on her wrist and turned to see him. "Stay," he said. She raised an eyebrow and replied, "Very well." She placed the mug on the nightstand, sat on the bed, and slipped under the covers.

As they stood facing each other, her cheeks started to flush, and they delicately interlocked their pinkies. "The name Earl Ciel Phantomhive is rightfully mine, and I am determined to take it back," he declared, with a resolute tone in his voice. She furrowed her brows a little, silently hoping that he would reveal his true identity. Nevertheless, she couldn't help but smile warmly at him and responded, "I have no doubt that you will succeed." As they settled into bed, the atmosphere was serene and tranquil.

He briefly looked at her with a smile, then took her hand and kissed it. "I want you to be by my side to help me achieve my goals," he said. She couldn't help blushing and her heart was racing.

"I'm here for you," she said as they intertwined their fingers. Using her powers, she waved her fingers to blow out the candles. They fell asleep with smiles on their faces, having found each other.

[diabolikangel158]

Maybe We Should Talk About It...Or Not?

WARNINGS: Mentions and/or use of the following: verbal, sexual, emotional, physical abuse, strong language. No explicit smut, but somewhat mentioned. Alcohol abuse (?) slightly. Valentino. Yes. That should be a warning.

Valentino x Reader angst

Admit it. The only reason you stay with Valentino is because you don’t know what it’s like to have someone who actually cares about you. You’re used to the abuse already.

That’s what Husk told you one of the nights you were visiting the hotel, drinking your worries away. At the time, you had just blown him off, telling Husk to mind his own business. After all, what would his alcoholic ass know about meaningful relationships?

You decided to return to the V tower shortly after that. You knew Val would get upset if you “overstayed your welcome” as he would put it. So, you call up one of the drivers Valentino lovingly appointed to you. Getting in the backseat, you thought back to what Husk said. You’re used to the abuse already. You suppose that is the price you pay for blabbing to him about all your family problems you used to have when you were alive. 

You head to Valentino’s room– well, your room, too. There’s hardly a night that goes by where Valentino doesn’t want you in his bed. Unless Angel Du– no, no. There’s hardly a night that goes by where Valentino doesn’t want you. Husk’s words echoed in your mind. Maybe if you talked to Valentino… everything could be cleared up? Surely?

You knock on the porn production room; Val must be working late. One of his employees opens the door for you nervously, and moans fill your ears from the actors’ performance. “Good evening, Ms. Y/N. He’s just finishing up.” You nod and your eyes trail to Valentino, sitting with confidence in his director’s chair. Valentino felt your eyes, regarding you for a moment. He winks and throws a smirk your way before turning back to the scene in front of him. Your heart couldn’t help but flutter– out of love or anxiety you couldn’t quite tell anymore. Or was it always one in the same? 

You wait patiently while Valentino finishes the shoot. When it’s done, he motions to you with one of his hands, beckoning you closer. “Hey, amorcito… What are you doing here?” He blows a heart-shaped puff of smoke in your direction. 

You try not to make it too obvious how much you revel in his attention. “Um… babe? Can we talk for a minute?” You ask carefully. 

He sighs with a hint of annoyance in his tone. “Fine…what do you need, amor?”

You fiddle with your fingers and turn your gaze to the floor between your feet. “It’s…come to my attention that…” You struggle to find the best words to describe your feelings. 

He hums with curiosity. “Hm? What is it? Did someone badmouth me again?”

“Well not really… more like… us?” You reply quickly. You know he abhors when people speak poorly of him. 

Valentino seems uninterested, yet annoyed at the same time. As though people speaking badly about the relationship with you is fine, but your concern is irritating. He takes another breath from his cigarette. “And what did they say about us?” 

You take a deep breath and hurriedly tell him with a glance to his face, “They say that you’re actually really toxic and that the only reason I don’t know is because I’m so inexperienced and just used to it.”

Valentino looks down at you and whistles lowly, blowing even more smoke in your face. “Oh boy… and you’re telling me you actually believe that garbage?”

You’re back to fiddling and looking down. “Well sometimes you..well you…”

Valentino’s eyes narrow. “Oh yeah? Sometimes I what?”

Your voice lowers to a whisper. “Sometimes you get a little… mean.”

The tension is thick in the air. Valentino looks around the set, dropping his smile. “Everyone except Y/N get the fuck out!” The rush as though their lives depend on it; in all honesty it probably does. He turns his attention back to you. “Oh right…I’m a horrible person to you, right? I’m so horribly mean and inconsiderate to you. Is that what you’re saying, carino?” You don’t say anything. “Well? Go on, don’t be silent now. Say it. That’s what you believe isn’t it?”

“No…I- well…You are unsure how to proceed. You subconsciously start rubbing your forearm and wince. There’s a fresh bruise there that you had forgotten about. 

Valentino smiles, flashing that golden tooth of his. He peers at you over his heart-shaped shades. “Ah there it is. The bruise. Of course. Did I do that, amorcito? Am I the one who causes those bruises?” He asks, sugary sweet. You nod slightly. He nods along with you, leaning down to get a closer look at your face. “Yeah. Just as I thought. You honestly believe I abuse you, don’t you?” 

You can’t help the tears that start to form in the corner of your eyes. “I don’t know…is this…that?” You ask with genuine questions in your voice.

Valentino notices your welling tears, saying, “Yeah that’s right, just keep crying. Go on, get your little act out because you’re just so abused and innocent. Cry on command just like the little actress you pretend to be.” 

His words hurt. “I’m not pretending!” You cry out. “I just… wanted to talk to you about it.” You wipe pathetically at your tears, hoping that maybe if they stopped, it would quell Valentino’s anger towards you, even if just a little. 

Valentino sighs and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, sure you did. And is that all you wanted to “talk” about?” He places one pair of his hands on his hips, while the upper pair lights another cigarette. You nod and he looks down on you. “Right… So what about those bruises? How’d you get those? Did another man hit you? Is there another man you care for, amorcito?” He inhales the smoke, a small smile forming in the corner of his lips. 

“No of course not,” You reply swiftly. “Maybe… you don’t realize it… but you’re… you can… be a little rough with me at times, love.” You trail off slightly. You are running out of ways to describe things in a… nice way. 

He looks unbothered by your words, giving a small shrug. “Oh I see… so I just get a little rough is that it? You know, that’d be fine if you didn’t have such fragile little bones and weren’t such a coward. All it takes is a little shove and you’ve got bruises. Does it hurt more because I’m mean?” 

You take a small step back, replying, “Nevermind…I’ll just go back to my room.”

“Oh no, no, no,” Valentino chuckles. “You’re not going anywhere. We’re going to finish this little chat right here.” You pretend not to hear him and try to open the door, but he smoothly blocks your path. “Where do you think you’re going, amor? I told you, we’re not done here. You wanna talk about bruises? Fine, let’s talk about bruises. But you’re going to listen to me now.” He roughly grabs your arm and you flinch as he points at the array of blemishes present on it. They vary in color; different stages of healing. Yellow, purple, blue. An in-progress canvas he paints on you. “So I’m the reason for all of these. That’s what you’re saying, right?” 

You can feel the rising panic inside of you. You regretted everything. “Y-yes.” You stutter out. 

Valentino’s grip tightens around your arm. “And are we going to ignore the fact that you’re such a fragile little thing? You bruise so easily. That’s not my fault, is it amorcito?” He pauses, taking his other hand and tenderly traces the marks. His voice softens. “You have no idea how easy it is for me. Don’t you believe me? I could break your arm right now if I wanted to.” He brings his eyes to meet yours. He’s serious. Dangerously so. 

“Val… please…”

He gives you a look of mock concern and he coos, tilting his head to the side and pulling your arm close to him to cradle it…or prepare to break it, you’re not sure. “Aww… am I saying something that’s bothering you, carino? Is it intimidating to know how easily I can physically hurt you? Is that what all this whining is about?”

“I’m sorry.”

“What are you sorry for? Are you sorry because you believe I abuse you? Or are you sorry because I’m right, and you’re just a frail little thing who bruises at the drop of a hat?”

“I didn’t mean to upset you.”

His grin widens, red saliva dripping from between his teeth as he presses his face even closer into yous. “Oh, yeah? I’m not upset. I’m enjoying this. Tell me the truth. The fact that I could break you if I wanted to… does it arouse you?”

Your eyes widen. Of course Valentino would turn this into about that. “No way! That’s not what this is about.” The panic begins to creep into your voice. 

“Liar. I know you enjoy it. You don’t want to admit it, but inside you crave that feeling of fear and helplessness.” Val blows another breath of red smoke into your face.

You  shake your head, but you feel confused. Do you like it? Do you like being afraid? “Maybe… but I don’t like the pain.”

Valentino chuckles again. “Sure… keep telling yourself that.”

You are desperate to simply leave this conversation and never bring it up again. “May I go back to bed?” You ask as politely as your trembling voice will allow. 

He drops your arm, instead pulling you in close, holding you. “Oh no you don’t,” he says right next to your ear. “I’m not done with you yet. Tell me one thing…” He presses his lips to the side of your head, kissing you gently. You stay quiet, waiting, wishing that Hell itself would just swallow you whole so you could disappear.

“Are you scared right now?” He whispers. 

“A little.”

“And isn’t that lovely? Aren’t you just adorable, all scared and helpless like this?” You try to pull away, but Valentino firmly holds you in place. “No, no, no… I’m not letting you go anywhere. I want you to stay here and tell me… Tell me how scared you are you stupid fucking bitch.” 

Your heart races as you look into his eyes, the fear plainly written in them. “I’m scared. Very scared.”

Valentino strokes the top of your head, smiling into you and continues in a mockingly kind tone. “That’s good… Do you know what that fear makes you?” You shake your head. “That fear makes you mine. It means I have control over you and there is nothing you can do to stop me. I’m the one who decides what happens to you. Do you understand…amorcito?” 

“Yes… Valentino.” You look off to the corner of your eyes, ashamed.

“That’s right. Good girl. Just a scared little actress who’s too inexperienced to know how good she has it…or when she’s being taken advantage of by people trying to ruin the only good thing that’s ever happened in her pathetic, miserable life.” Valentino abruptly stops caressing your hair and grips it hard, forcing you to look in his eyes. “Now tell me… are you going to be good for me from now on?”

You nod helplessly. “Yes Val.”

“Good!” He smiles and lets go of you. It’s as though nothing even happened. The air feels clear again, the tension gone. “That’s better. Now go ahead, little one, go back to bed.” Valentino kisses your cheek happily. “I’ll be there soon.” 

You turn around slowly and begin the walk back to Valentino’s room, heart beginning to calm down from the danger. 

“And remember,” Valentino calls out from behind you. “Next time I might not be so gentle.” 

[anemoiashifts]

october pick a pile shifting reading from someone in my desired reality !

happy october & happy almost halloween ! ✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

i usually do there jellycats / piles to pull from but this month has only two. for the life me me i couldn’t do a third reading. i did these two back to back & tried to do a third one but it just…wasn’t happening. i tried to come back to it at a later date & still nothing. i chose to take that as a sign & only have two for this month.

as the title says, these are readings from people in my desired reality. i didn’t ask for advice from anyone specifically but i do have my own hunches on who these are from.

in regards to next months readings im kinda out of ideas at the moment. if anyone want a reading from a specific list of characters from the same piece of media maybe ? or a question or a reading from someone in your desired reality as a general reading ? maybe they’ll be next months reading, who knows. ill put a poll out with the most popular ideas suggested so be on the lookout for that so please don’t shy away from letting my know your ideas. <3

one more thing i promise but please don’t force messages to resonate. there will be more readings coming so it’s okay if you don’t resonate as that just means this message wasn’t for you.

✧˖°. black bashful pumpkin bunny.

signs / songs : pink tank top, round “harry potter style” glasses , werewolf by fiona apple , just by radiohead.

you are currently in a state of conflict or are about to be in one. as a result, something is being suppressed. it is unclear where you stand on your viewpoint when it not only comes to shifting but a laundry list of opinions & thoughts. you often try to put yourself in others shoes which can only leave you more conflicted on what is “right” for you. at this time your mindset is being challenged. you can break mental cycles & patterns at anytime. you just have to be willing to do so.

though, you seemingly have an outright refusal to let go. from my understanding, this “letting go” isn’t physical & is a mental battle between your past & present. this upcoming & current “conflict” can relate to some sort of belief that was instilled into you by someone else or unnecessary pressure you brought upon yourself subconsciously. this thinking & patterns you have tend to bleed into shifting that leaves you at a cross roads. you have a this tendency to overthink & get in your head so much that you scare yourself out of your desires.

you can either a.) overcome it, accept the hand you’ve been dealt & move onto greatness or b.) stay remaining where you are & allow it to keep holding you back.

this person wants you to know harping on the past will not change it. overthinking will not benefit you. thinking on your past suffering will not make it hurt any less & will only result in you becoming addicted to the feeling of your suffering. there will always be suffering. there will always be hardships. learn to live alongside your struggles without them letting them destroy you.

you already have all the tools to overcome whatever may be preventing you from moving forward. you are in control of your own future & what your next move is. don’t overstay your welcome in a place that is causing you so much pain.

✧˖°. bartholomew pumpkin bear

signs / songs : 2:22 , 4:44 , millipedes , blue feathers, hanna barbera cartoon characters, let’s kill tonight by panic ! at the disco.

you may be stubborn in beliefs & frustrated that things haven’t worked out that way you wanted them to. you may also have some sort of superiority complex when it comes to your beliefs & struggle to admit when you’re wrong at times. in addition, a tendency to become bitter and jealous easily over others, even if you have the means to obtain them yourself.

perhaps it’s how long you’ve been trying to shift that is fueling these influx of negative thinking. despite wanting to shift, there is a lack of emotion from a specific desired reality (or reality shifting entirely). at times, find yourself still pushing through shifting methods & routines despite thr the mental exhaustion of it all. you want to shift of course. you tell yourself you want to but believing in yourself & having your mind be clouded by negativity, methods feel more & more like a chore. there is a lack of clarity of where you want to shift. without direction, you don’t know where to go. to this person, planning for stability comes first & rewards come second. you need a more of a solid foundation to thrive.

take this as a reminder to watch what you say to yourself & your projection onto others due to your feelings of lack. take risks but ensure they’re calculated ones. gaining a sense of independence may help you.

this reading specially was a little all over the place & that may be a reflection on where you’re at right now. there was an emphasis on you wanting to be in control & underlying themes of wanting material goods — so that could be relevant to some of you.

thank you for reading ! hope this resonated & proves some clarity for you ˘͈ᵕ˘͈⸝*

[krewekreep]

After the Night Ends: Chapter 3 (Flashback)

1.5K Words. Alucard X OC!Reader. Reader is non binary with a femme body. AU but contains lore from Castlevania & Castlevania: Nocturne. Takes place during the last episode and goes from there…

Angst, Estranged Lovers AU, Soulmate AU, Alucard is a reclusive, flirtatious snarky brat. Not 18+ yet but following chapters may and will be properly tagged as such. Soundtrack: Glass Animals - Hooves (just for the vibes tbh.)

“Alucard?” You burst outside into the garden, head thrown side to side looking for him. “Alucard!!” You ran about without any sight of him. Did he go to Town? Or did he just take one of those silent man strolls he was prone to doing randomly? You were stunned, confused, you needed to know if this was true.

“You’re about to make me lose my fucking mind…” you growled, your shoulders bunching in animalistic agitation. A letter arrived, a very disheveled letter of warm love and missing of Alucard. How whoever this was missed his kind countenance and thought of their old days traveling. How soon they would be in the area and hoped to see him again, acknowledging he had every right to deny them if he so chose to…since they seemingly left without regard for him. You whip your head to see him breaking through bushes of the forest nearing you.

“Ah,” he said. “Apologies, I was around back and had walked to the river to read. I heard you calling…” in his hand was a massive, beautiful ornate collection of the Divine Comedy, ever the lover of drama to the highest degree. “You sound bothered…” he was worried. He heard from when you began stomping inside to the hard push and whack of the doors opening.

“Yeah, as hell I am!” You were angry. Your eyes staring into him. He didn’t know whether to inquire more…or disappear. Already accustomed but weary of your casual ferocity. “Who the FUCK are Sypha…” which you said mockingly, “and Tretor?! Trevor?” He was absolutely dumbfounded. How did you know about them? Did they show up? Were they here? His heart beat sped up, thumping loudly. Your keen ears caught it, lowering your possessive gaze to leer at him. While you two have not consummated anything, you ended up staying a day, a few more days, then weeks.

Now you could say it was about a month and a half since he decided you weren’t a bother enough to send into the night. This was uncharacteristic of you, somewhat scary to him. He could only muddle his own mind over his yearning for them, how you even knew of them, and why you are so damn upset about it? He wanted to set his hand against your chest to calm you. He would not let them hurt you. He would not suddenly quick you out. He thought you afraid of being abandoned, a soft sweet truly considerate thought.

“Why the Fuck,” you pull out a bunched up and admittedly clawed couple page letter. His heart sank. Was that from them? Why was it in your hands? When did it arrive? What does it say??? Really Trevor and Sypha? His heart yearned soon becoming angered. “You read my correspondence without permission?” There was some heat in his tone. That which you did not appreciate. “I sure fucking did!” Why were you so angry? You had no right. You were nothing more than someone overstaying their welcome. You be well aware you not comparable enough to question him or insult them. He was tired of you for the day.

“Give me that,” he went to snatch the letter from you but you retreated, angrily jumping away from him. “They miss you. They care about you…,” now you were being mean. “Oh how they love you…but alone you are and alone you’ve been…” it was not your place, you wanted to shut up. But how could he care? How could he get mad at you when you could see through this bullshit a mile away. “You call me a swindler?? What in the hell would you consider this!!!” You were absolutely screaming at him now. Thumbing through the pages remembering an especially enraging part. Your voice again mocking the sincerity of the authors. “Oh how we were ignorant to leave you so alone. It is with deep regret we were so selfish and did not consider you.” He wanted to snatch the pages from you as rough as needed. Only he understands…that they mean it. They have to mean it. They are the truest, most loving people he’s ever met. Not their fault he just…didn’t fit into their plans. No, at all costs you would not besmirch them.

He walked down on you easily. You soon reclining back guarding the papers to your chest. You looked to a scowl that while abhorrent was nothing…you knew he didn’t have it in him to really manhandle you. But to your surprise you were grabbed roughly and brought close to his displeased grimace by the ruff of your blouse. You wanted to bite him, bite at him. This was unlike any other spat the two of you had. Both seething mere inches from each other’s face. How upset you were he was upset you were upset simply trying to protect him! How you overheard him talking to handmade dolls or to no one at all, full blown conversations where he’d reply on the others behalf! Your eyes began to water, you closed them snatching away from his grasp and rubbing them quickly. “Are they…the dolls you talk to?”

Alucard…was flabbergasted. He ashamed and caught…exposed and disgusted. He didn’t know how lonely he opens was. He thought he hid it well. He thought… “No, they are not.” He knew you didn’t believe him. He knew you knew better. When he hastily would put them away as you’d enter the library, long after you caught him talking for hours. How you began to interrupt him—join him with the express purpose of being a real person to he could communicate with. So he understands…he could talk to you…even if he didn’t and just sat in silence. Your presence was felt…and he was grateful. But it took time. Every time you interrupt him he felt caught and confused. If you only had needed food, a place to rest, clothes…why did you follow him around? You didn’t follow him…but you did keep up with his whereabouts as often as possible.

You curious of him. Admittedly saddened on his behalf by his decayed social state. How his unnecessarily upset introduction and continued short temper made all the more sense. How you could lay off of him, just a bit, cause some days his head was heavier than others. Some days he wouldn’t look up from the ground. And others you couldn’t get him to look away from the sky. Always somewhere else…when you were right there next to him, open and willing if he just looked at you instead of everywhere, everything else. “Is it true? Are they the dolls, Alucard.”

“You have no right to ask.”

“I do not. But that’s why I push the matter. You characterize me as sneaky and always lurking about! I do nothing of the sort…and how!!! How of this? Had they not done the same? Have they not known the same warmth of your kindness? Did I leave the minute I got what I wanted? Did I?!” You lamented with the tears finally falling. What you didn’t know is they hadn’t left as soon as they got what they wanted. He sincerely understood you even if he didn’t agree with how intense you were about it. You just didn’t know them…but…he evidently had hurt your feelings by treating you with a close contempt. How he hadn’t considered his own hypocrisy allowing you to stay here, attempting to make nice, while he acted as if you were a bother. Knowing he wasn’t bothered by you at all…just…thrown off.

You didn’t know what they all had gone through. You didn’t know they saved your life and plenty others. World Savers. You didn’t know how ungrateful and insulting you sounded. You just sounded extremely overly protective, possessive, offended, excluded. “How could anyone…abandon someone like you .” You cried into your arm, shielding yourself from his now guilty eyes.

“Please…” he reached for you, much gentler, much closer to who he really was. But you turned away. “Here,” you threw the papers in the air. “You want to eat up that crap? Go right ahead.” Turning on your heels heading towards the castle entrance. He leapt for them, somewhat embarrassed at his eagerness. You scoffed unamused, “and by the date it was signed…they’ll be here tonight or late morning. I’ll be gone. I do not plan to speak, play nice, or even thank whoever they are. I hate them.” How childish of you. He knew you didn’t mean that. There was no real way to hate anyone you didn’t know. But your hurt feelings, and the failure of just demanding he acknowledged you…burning a hole into your chest. You stormed inside without another word, muffling your crying. He heard you until you must’ve ascended the stairs deep into the foyer towards the bedroom you chose. Then, with the clawed, crumpled papers in his clutched hands, he read and read and read. His heart racing. He didn’t think you actually were planning to leave. Or that he couldn’t make up to you somehow. Yet, you faded into the back of his mind, the exact thing you didn’t want as he hurried to ready himself and the manor for his long waited guests.

Next couple chapters may will be continued flashback. Smut + Action. We cooking with grease, now.

(Only tagging who have liked both published chapters, thank y’all! Otherwise please comment cause I will not add all them people over and over again…💕) taglist: @grimmbunniee @clevereclipsecloudcop @lifefullof-depression @nicolls187 @kindadolly @kkeidawrites @catarsis96

[siennafrxst]

↳ fate 𖤐𓈒࣪₊˚

pairing: barney stinson x female reader

universe: how I met your mother (HIMYM)

word count: 1.1k words

cw: cringe 😍

click here to read the sequel.

As Barney swirls the whiskey in his glass, he scans the room to hunt for his next unsuspecting prey. In other words, the next woman he was gonna gaslight into having sex with. (💀)

Then, his eyes land on someone across the bar, sitting all alone by herself. Intrigued, he slowly approaches her while coming up with another one of his inane backstories to entice his victim as per usual.

But then, to his surprise, she turns to face him. “Hey, you need to try this.”

Slightly taken aback, Barney stares blankly at the drink in her hands, not expecting her to be the one to initiate conversation. “Are you trying to get me drunk?”

She lightheartedly frowns at his response. “No, I just want you to take a little sip. And no, I promise I didn’t drug it either. Here.” She takes a sip from her glass as proof, as though reading his inner thoughts.

Convinced yet still slightly bewildered, he shrugs. “Alright, fine; gimme.”

She hands him over the drink as he sets his down before promptly taking a sip, his eyes widening at the unfamiliar taste.

“Woah, that’s-“

“I know, right?”

He smiles softly at the grin on her face, seeming to lighten up his mood. “I’m Barney, by the way.” He reaches out a polite hand.

“I’m Y/N, it’s nice to meet you.” She takes his hand in hers and shakes it.

“It’s my pleasure. So, what’s a pretty lady like you sitting all alone in a bar?“

“And if I told you that I was waiting for someone?”

Barney lets out a scoff. “Then you wouldn’t have been wearing that frown on your face earlier.”

Y/N shrugs, knowing that he wasn’t wrong. “Fair enough. You want the honest, boring answer?”

He nods. “Try me.”

“I’m here to blow off some steam. I’ve been trying to find a job for weeks now. Can’t even nail a decent interview.” She chuckles softly, shaking her head to herself. “And what about you? Tall, blond guy in a brooding suit. What’s your reason?”

Barney sighs. “Do you want the honest, not-so-boring answer?”

“Try me.”

He slowly leans in closer, as though he was about to share an important secret. “I was sent as a spy from the future to warn about the upcoming rapture one thousand years from now. And the only way to save the world is-“

“Let me guess, to have sex with you?” she cuts him off, clearly not amused.

Barney blinks his eyes innocently, surprised at her sudden question. “What? Pssh, no,” he says, seemingly appalled. “Do you want to?”

Y/N rolls her eyes at the desperate man. “Okay, I see, so the reason why you’re here is to hit on dumb blondes and gaslight them into having sex with you by using one of your inane backstories?”

“And it seems as though you’re not one of them.”

They smile at each other, both cockily in a way that was playful yet enticing.

“I’m curious, though… does that actually work?”

“Oh hell yeah, and that’s not even one of the craziest ones I’ve used.”

Her eyes widen slightly, now intrigued. “Really?”

Barney nods. “I could tell you more, but we may have to be here for hours.”

Y/N turns around to check the clock on a nearby wall before promptly facing him once more. “I got some time to spare.”

Barney smiles, satisfied with her answer. “That’s what I like to hear.”

He sits on the chair beside hers as he proceeds to tell her more about his desperate ploys.

To them, their conversation had only lasted for a few minutes, but the next thing they knew, the bar was already closing and they had to be personally kicked out by the bar owner for overstaying their welcome.

The two decided to walk around the city late at night, lights flickering past as the moon shone high above, seeming to follow them in their journey.

“Wait, what time is it?”

Barney checks the watch on his wrist, suddenly putting a halt to his movements in surprise. “Woah. It’s almost 2AM.”

She stops to stand beside him, her eyes widening. “Are you serious?”

“Yeah, we just spent like 4 hours talking to each other.”

“Huh.”

“Huh indeed.”

They both take a moment to stare at one another, the silence oddly comforting. When they were together, it was as if nobody else mattered. No one else was sharing the moments they had except for the two.

Y/N purses her lips before speaking up, finally breaking the silence. “Well then, I have to confess something before this night ends.”

He hums, signaling for her to continue.

“I don’t usually let some guy even go near me whenever I’m at a bar, sitting alone grumpily.”

He chuckles lightly.

“But… I actually enjoyed our little date that isn’t a date.”

He smiles, taking a subtle step closer towards her. “Well, I think every date that isn’t a date should end with a good night kiss.”

He leans in to connect their lips, but to his surprise, she leans away.

“Tell me, Barney, do you believe in fate?”

Barney — clearly disappointed — frowns at her sudden interruption. “No, not really.”

She simply smiles at his disgruntled expressions. “Well, I do, and if we’re meant to be, then we’ll see each other again.”

“So am I not getting my good night kiss or…?”

She chuckles at his little pout. “Look, if we ever cross paths again, then you can give it to me. No questions asked.”

“Why can’t I just give it to you now? I promise I’m a great kisser. I got like a hundred different girls who can attest to th-“

She puts a finger over his lips, shutting him up in an instant.

“Be patient. I promise, next time, I won’t make you wait one more second.”

“If there even will be a next time.”

Y/N frowns at him as she removes the finger on his lips, earning an eye roll from him.

“Fine, if you want to play hard to get, then so be it.”

She smiles. “Good.”

“At least let me walk you home. Where’d you say it was you lived again?”

She gives him a knowing look. “Haha, nice try,” she says in a sarcastic tone.

“Can’t blame a guy for trying. But seriously, you sure you’ll be okay? It’s pretty late, and New York is filled with all kinds of creeps.”

Y/N smiles at his worried expressions. “Yeah, I’ll be fine. I don’t live that far from here.”

Barney’s eyes light up, pointing a finger at her. “Aha! So you do live somewhere in this area.”

“I could also be messing with you.”

He rolls his eyes at her once more as she giggles at him.

“Good night, Barney.”

He returns the smile on her face. “Good night, Y/N.”

this isn’t one of my best but I haven’t been posting in a while so… yeah. thanks for reading. x

click here to read the sequel.

likes and reblogs are vv appreciated.

[from-the-coffee-shop-in-edoras]

It’s Wídfara Wednesday! With Guthláf included, of course, because it's always a good day for some Guthláf.

Catch up on parts one and two if needed. Part 3 finds Wíd in the aftermath of his first romantic encounter with Guthláf and wondering what to make of it. This part picks up a few…hours, let’s say, after the end of part 2. Still in Wíd’s room. T for Teen.

Wídfara was doing his best not to stare. 

He had admired Guthláf’s face and form from the moment they met, but to see him this way – all of him, luxuriously stretched out and casually bare – was so much more than anything Wídfara had imagined. He found it terrifying and thrilling in equal measure, the fulfillment of a desire he had long known and understood about himself but feared to expose to anyone else. Now that he had, though, he wanted just to bask in it for a while, to take this unprecedented chance to openly savor the sight of things he found affecting. The rounded curves of biceps and shoulders. The sprinkling of blonde hair over strong thighs. The deep grooves of muscles just inside the hips. After what they’d done together, taking an appreciative look now hardly seemed like a big deal. But his own sense of propriety forced Wídfara to tear his eyes away, and he rolled over to look up at the ceiling instead.

“If you’re tired, I can head back to my room.” Guthláf ran a hand lightly over his own face and pulled himself up to sit. “Don’t let me overstay my welcome.”

“Oh. Well, I wouldn’t mind if we just…” Wídfara hesitated. He had no idea what the custom was in this situation. He’d be content for Guthláf to stay with him and let the unforeseen thrill of the night last as long as possible, but perhaps that’s not how things were done. “Whatever you think is best.”

“To be honest with you, Wíd, I don’t really know.” He looked down with an apologetic smile. “I don’t have much experience here, so I’m not sure what’s usually expected.”

This admission surprised Wídfara, coming from someone who otherwise seemed so self assured and confident. “You haven’t done this much with other men? Or at all?” He didn’t mean to pry, but his own lack of experience left him more than curious to know how others like him had gotten on, especially someone who had been living in a bigger city.

“Either. Both.” Guthláf laughed. “It only took one try for me to know for sure this wasn’t something I ever wanted from a woman.” He paused, reliving a past moment in his mind, and then laughed again. “It was an awkward mess. And as for men, well…there have been a few that I suspected might share my inclination and some that were of interest to me. And there have even been a few that I would feel safe being honest with. But all three traits in the same man is a true rarity. So this”— he gestured vaguely at himself and then at Wídfara—“is not something I’m really accustomed to, though I imagine that my behavior tonight might imply otherwise.”

“I understand.”

Guthláf raised an eyebrow. “What about you then? Similar story?”

Since he had raised the subject, Wídfara felt it only fair to be equally candid, and he nodded. “I gave women more than one try. Not because I enjoyed anything about it, but because part of me hoped that I could learn to like it over time. Things being how they are, that just seemed as though it would be easier.” He looked away momentarily. “But this is who I am. It’s what feels right to me. And for most of my life, no one else I knew even acknowledged that it was possible for a man to feel this way.”

“I know how that goes.” Guthláf gave his arm a gentle squeeze and then looked off in thought for a few moments. “Well, if neither of us is certain what we’re supposed to do, we’ll just have to make our own way. Would it be alright with you if I stayed?”

Wídfara turned and lifted the edge of his blanket with a smile, making space for Guthláf to fit himself in against the warmth of Wídfara’s chest, stomach and thighs. The nervous flutter of happiness this caused kept him awake for a while, long enough to hear Guthláf’s breathing become long and slow as he drifted to sleep. But even when Wídfara’s heart calmed and rest began to feel possible, he fought against it, unwilling to relinquish his feeling of contentment to the end of the day. And when his eyes finally grew irresistibly heavy and he gave in to his creeping exhaustion, his last waking thought was excited anticipation to see Guthláf again in the morning.

Wídfara slept harder and longer than he had in years, being roused only by the chimes of the morning bells, and he woke with his memories of the night before still vivid in his mind. But when he rolled over and opened his eyes, he was startled to find himself now alone. Some time while he slept, Guthláf had slipped out, leaving behind so little trace of his presence that Wídfara might have convinced himself the whole thing had been a dream if not for the mead bottle on the floor and a distinctive sweet scent lingering in the blankets that he would forevermore associate with Guthláf’s bare skin.

He pulled himself up on an elbow, his sleep-fogged mind trying to make sense of the empty space beside him. In another circumstance, he would take such an abrupt, unexplained departure as a sign of either desperately needed escape or cold dismissal. But he simply couldn’t imagine either to be true of Guthláf. He had little experience in these matters, but he had understood well enough the generous words of praise and sounds of pleasure. There had been only kindness and sincerity in Guthláf’s behavior, and it had been his suggestion to stay. Wídfara trusted in nothing more than his own intuition, and it told him that Guthláf wouldn’t hurt him for no reason. But then what else could explain such a change, one that he must have known would leave Wídfara surprised and confused? 

He dropped back to his pillow and threw an arm over his eyes. Perhaps it was fear, a loss of nerve that came on in the quiet of the night. The fear of exposure. The fear that a new entanglement, with its many unknowns and uncertainties, could ruin a lifetime of the prudence and caution that had always offered protection. Wídfara certainly understood that fear, which dwelt deep within him and probably always would. But he felt something else now, too. Something that, for the first time in his life, outweighed the fear and pushed it from his own mind. 

Amid the night’s heady mix of attraction and discovery, Wídfara had sensed a spark of real possibility – not just plain desire, but also admiration and acceptance and true understanding. And that spark was strong enough and precious enough to him that he would dare to follow it no matter the danger, to chase after that brilliant light and see where it led. To learn whether it could eventually kindle a roaring fire or would fizzle out on its own. 

He was certain that Guthláf had felt that same spark, a deep, instinctual sense that this could be something different. But he wouldn’t blame Guthláf if a moment of reflection had left him unwilling to risk the happy and successful life he had laboriously built just to pursue whatever prospect might exist in that bright, intense burst of feeling. That was much to ask of someone, and Wídfara had only compassion for the difficulty of making such a choice.

Still, disappointment settled on him with an uncomfortable heaviness, and worry soon joined it. He might have to accept the lost potential of what had felt to him like a special connection, and that was regret enough. But he would regret it still more if awkwardness between them now cost him even the friendship that had already taken hold – a friendship he valued and wanted to keep. 

If fear had really driven Guthláf from the room in the dark of night, perhaps he wouldn’t want to talk about any of it now — or even acknowledge it — in the light of day. Wídfara saw no advantage to forcing a conversation if doing so would make Guthláf uneasy. But if talking about it would make things worse, would not talking about it solve anything? Wídfara had no idea and no way to seek advice. Without a better thought, he decided simply to take his lead from Guthláf – to wait and see how he approached, how he acted, what he said, what he didn’t say — and then try to adjust his own intentions and reactions accordingly. It might not get him everything he wanted, but it would be far better than nothing.

He tossed aside the blankets with a sigh and pulled himself to his feet. Wallowing in his own disappointed hopes wouldn’t help anything, and he was eager to escape the room and the sight of the rumpled bedding that only seemed to mock those hopes. He readied himself as quickly as he could and rushed out the door to find a task to better occupy his mind. 

It was another warm, sunny morning, and the stable was coming to life as Wídfara arrived – riders dipping in and out of the tack room in search of a lost piece of equipment, farriers sorting nails and shoes, bales of hay being tossed down from the loft above. He took a surreptitious glance down the aisle where Syndrigan, Guthláf’s horse, was kept, but he saw only stablehands and took care not to break his step as he continued on toward his own horse’s stall. Before he made it, however, he was intercepted by a smiling Elfhelm, who threw a friendly arm around his shoulders and steered him gently away from his intended destination and toward the back of the barn instead.

“Now that you’re here and getting settled, it’s time for you to choose a novice. We have a bunch of them here today, and you can pick whichever one suits you best.”

“A novice, Marshal? I’m not sure what you mean.”

“Did you not have novices in the Wold?” He shook his head in answer to his own question. “No, I expect you didn’t. If population loss was a problem out there, they probably had to discontinue the practice some time ago.”

He turned them around a corner, where a group of boys in their early teenage years sat. They jumped to their feet at the sight of Elfhelm and lined up neatly in front of him.

“These young men hope to enter as rider candidates next year. If we pair them with a current rider now, they earn a small wage by helping to care for your equipment, run errands, or look after any particular needs of your horse beyond what the stablehands manage. And they get a chance to see the inner workings of the éored, observe training and learn more about what they can expect if they should qualify themselves someday.” He walked Wídfara slowly down the line of boys. “There are several new riders in the city’s other éoreds, but they aren’t here yet this morning and so you can have the first selection.”

“I’m to choose?” Wídfara stared blankly at the young faces in front of him. He had never laid eyes on any of them before that very moment, and he had no idea how he was supposed to distinguish between them other than to select one at random.

“It’s entirely up to you,” said Elfhelm. “Many of the finest families in Edoras are represented here, with generations of service to Rohan. I know you aren’t familiar with these boys like the other riders will be, but they’re all good young men and you really can’t make a bad choice.”

Wídfara looked again down the line of hopefuls, all facing straight ahead and standing as tall as possible. He could see that many of them were, indeed, from very fine families, sporting polished gold clasps on their belts and wearing handsome leather boots that probably cost more than every piece of clothing he’d ever owned. They weren’t boys that needed a wage, and Wídfara guessed they didn’t really need any extra help to be selected as rider candidates either. He hadn’t known many families with wealth in his life, but in his experience, money made opportunities happen all on its own.  

His eyes finally came to rest on the last boy in line, and only here did Wídfara see a novice he could relate to — a shirt with patches and visible wear, hands that were clean but already calloused from real labor, no finery or decoration or any element to his appearance that didn’t serve a necessary function. And yet, this young man stood just as tall as the others around him, determined to show his equal worth and proud, no doubt, for having earned his place there. Wídfara smiled at him and beckoned him over.

“Congratulations, Freogan,” said Elfhelm, putting one hand on the boy’s shoulder and the other on Wídfara’s. “And congratulations to you, Wídfara. You won’t find a harder worker in the whole city, and I’m sure he’ll do well by you.”

Elfhelm left them to prepare for the morning’s drills and exercises, and Wídfara and Freogan walked together to ready his horse. Wídfara chanced one more glance toward Syndrigan’s stall as they passed, and this time he could see the familiar blonde head towering over a cluster of young stablehands, all at rapt attention as Guthláf demonstrated a trick for maintaining balance during a full gallop. They clearly already understood what Wídfara had learned for himself the day before – that Guthláf was one of the best horsemen they were ever likely to see – and they stared up at him as he spoke like they were watching Eorl himself astride one of the mearas. Guthláf’s gaze never wavered from the boys in front of him, and Wídfara pulled his own away before anyone could follow it.

He turned instead to Freogan. His novice was a quiet boy of fourteen, slight but strong, who seemed determined to show his gratitude through diligent effort. He proved both a fast learner and a good hand with Cypren, and his company helped provide Wídfara a welcome distraction, something else to concentrate on rather than allowing his eyes and thoughts to keep straying back in Guthláf’s direction. They made quick work of the morning’s preparations, and he used the extra time to allow Freogan a few shots at the archer’s targets waiting in the training ring, always happy to try to convert another Rohirrim from the spear to the bow.

Training stretched well into the afternoon, broken up only by a short break at midday. Wídfara was ever conscious of Guthláf’s presence, aware of where he stood or sat or rode, but he followed his own plan, keeping his distance and trying not to look too often in Guthláf’s direction. As he waited and hoped for a reassuring word or look or gesture to make their own way to him, he threw himself fully into every exercise, grateful for another focus and eager to expend some nervous energy. He did extra runs through the training course, gave advice when it was requested, and tried to put all his attention on his fellow archers, which at least had the happy side effect of helping them get to know one another better after the prior day’s brief introductions. Arengan, the chief bowman of the éored, even invited Wídfara out for a pint with the group, and he left Cypren in Freogan’s capable hands after training in order to accompany them to the tavern up the hill from the barracks.

They took up a position at a table in the back, eight of them in all, and Wídfara soon found himself having a good time in spite of everything. The easy teasing and good natured bluster reminded him of his friends from back home, and it was comforting to feel like part of a unit again. His enjoyment only wavered when, an hour after arriving, Guthláf came in and took a seat at the bar, chatting casually with the woman who poured drinks. Wídfara felt the uncomfortable pang of disappointment in his chest again, further heightened from a long day with no word or sign to set his heart at ease. But he couldn’t allow one night’s impulsive encounter to totally derail his efforts to get settled in Edoras and so he stayed with Arengan and the group despite his discomfort. He even stayed when he had finished his ale and knew that he couldn’t spare the money for another. Instead, he held the table while the other men went up to seek their own new pints.

He counted his coins again as he waited, and when he heard the chair across from him scrape on the floor, he looked up expecting to see one of his group returned. But instead it was Guthláf himself, holding a full mug, who slid into the open seat and smiled softly at him. 

“You’re a hard man to get a private moment with today.”

“Am I?” Wídfara felt a nervous little flip in his stomach. “I didn’t mean to be.” That wasn’t entirely true, as he had purposefully distracted himself with constant activity. But if the effect had been to discourage Guthláf from approaching him, that certainly wasn’t what he intended.

“Indeed. I kept a careful watch, and there’s hardly been a minute when you didn’t have at least one other person around you.” He looked over his shoulder and to both sides. Although no one else sat close enough to hear him, he lowered his voice nonetheless. “I’ve been waiting for a moment to try to explain myself, if you’ll allow it.”

Wídfara’s eyes shifted to the bar, where Arengan and his companions were still gathered a safe distance away. He kept his gaze there as he spoke. “We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to. You don’t owe me any explanation.”

“I’d like to offer one all the same. And an apology. In the rush of everything that happened last night, I somehow stupidly forgot the fact that I would need to look after my dog. It was already near dawn when I realized it, but you were still sleeping and I didn’t want to disturb you without need. I thought I could slip out and back in before you woke, but I was wrong. While walking Slaga, I got trapped in a conversation with Harding, who is always absurdly talkative early in the morning, and by the time I shook him off and got to your room again, you were already up and gone.”

Wídfara’s eyes cut back quickly to Guthláf. “You came back?”

“I did, but I must have just missed you. And then I spent the whole day doing that over and over again, always seemingly unable to catch your eye at the right moment or get to you before Elfhelm or Arengan or someone else appeared at your side. But all I wanted to do was tell you that I’m sorry. I wouldn’t have wanted to suddenly wake up alone, with no word of explanation, and it was never my intention that you would.”

“So then you weren’t…having regrets about everything?”

“I wasn’t. Last night meant something to me, and I’d hate to think I ruined it by making you believe the opposite.” 

Wídfara felt his disappointment sliding away as Guthláf spoke, the weight of it sloughing off him like a mailcoat that had been unfastened and dropped to the floor, and he smiled. “Nothing is ruined. It was just a misunderstanding. And for my part, we can pretend this morning never happened. We can go back to things as they were last night.”

“I’ll be glad to try, but that will be hard for me because, in fact, I like you even better now than I did last night.”

“Better?” Wídfara laughed. “How could that even be possible when this is the first we’ve talked since then?”

“I saw this morning that Freogan is your novice.”

“That’s right.”

“And Elfhelm tells me the choice was yours and not his.”

“That’s also right, though I’m not sure I see the significance of it here.”

“I’ve known Freogan’s family for years. They’re good people who have far less than they deserve, and the extra money he’ll earn as a novice will do wonders for them. I suspect you could see that, and I think that’s exactly why you chose him. Is that not so?”

Wídfara’s cheeks colored a little in surprise, and he wondered how Guthláf had guessed so much. “Horse breeding families like mine have really struggled ever since the army started supplying its own horses. I know what it’s like to worry about meeting even basic needs, and I guess I saw a little of myself in him.”

“You’re a good person, Wíd. A kind person. I thought so already, but now I know it for sure.” He glanced back over his shoulder again, where Arengan and the other archers were gathering up freshly poured drinks and preparing to head back to their seats. “Stay here and have a good time. These men will be great friends to you. But if you’re not too tired when you get back to the barracks, I’d like it if you would find me there so we can spend a little time together.” He slid his own untouched ale across the table, allowing his fingers to brush lightly against Wídfara’s hand as he passed him the drink, and then stood.

“Guthláf! Come to join the Arrow Club, have you?” Arengan dropped mugs onto the table and gave Guthláf a slap on the back before gesturing at Widfara. “You were right about this one. He’s as good a drinking companion as he is an archer.”

“As a mere swordsman, I wouldn’t presume to intrude on your night out,” said Guthláf with a smile. “But take good care of your newest addition.” He glanced back briefly at Wídfara and then nodded to the group. “I’ll see you all later.” And then he was off, cutting through the tavern and out the front door.

Wídfara stayed at the table for another hour, joining with his new friends in talk and laughter until the first of them left to get home to a waiting family. Then he took the opportunity to slip out as well, walking with an undeniable haste in his steps as he headed back to the barracks and to Guthláf. 

He waited until the hallway was empty and then knocked lightly at Guthláf’s door. A voice called him in, where he was greeted most immediately by the curious attentions of Slaga, the tiny cause of all of that day’s confusion and worry. He hopped up now to paw excitedly at Wídfara’s shins, but a short whistle drew him back to his little cushion near the foot of the bed, where Guthláf himself sat, boots off and comfortable and smiling.

“I’m glad you came.” 

Just the sound of his voice sent a surge of pink warmth creeping over Wídfara’s face. “I was glad to be invited. For…whatever this is that we’re doing.”

Guthláf shifted to make room for Wídfara to sit beside him. “I’m not sure what we’re doing, and we’ll have to be very careful about doing it,” he said, laying a hand atop one of Wídfara’s. “But I think it might be something really great. Should we find out?”

Notes: Harding, the talkative early morning riser, is canon. Arengan and Freogan are not.

Next week, we time jump a number of months to Wíd and Guthláf in a really happy, loving place. Until Guthláf is given an opportunity to fulfill his dream at last, and Wíd…does not take it well. Click here to Part 4!

Dividers as always by the lovely @quillofspirit

@emmanuellececchi @konartiste @sotwk @hobbitwrangler @dreambigdreamz (This list is based on prior expressions of interest but feel free to let me know if you want off! (Or on!))

[something-tofightfor]

Black Days 4: I’m What You Make Me

Pairing: Detective Tim Rockford x Female Reader

Word Count: 5,180

Rating: M (language, mention of prior relationships, smut mentioned)

Summary:  This “morning after” is unlike any other you’ve ever experienced ... and Tim’s not done surprising you just yet.  

Author’s Note: I’m so thankful that you’re all enjoying this one so much - and that there’s been so much interest in Tim. I appreciate every single one of you more than I even know how to explain. I hope you like this part - I sure do.

Questions? Concerns? Wanna screech about Tim? You know where to find me.

Chapter title comes from “Let Me Drown” by Soundgarden.

Masterlist / Chapter 1 / Chapter 2 / Chapter 3

(banner made by @stealyourblorbos)

You weren’t used to so much light immediately upon waking up, and you couldn’t stop your groan in time, the sound only muffled after a few seconds when you turned your head toward the pillow, eyes squeezed shut. It’s too damn bright. 

“Good morning.” Opening your eyes, you realized that in your sleep, you’d rolled to face the man in bed next to you. Oh, shit. Sneaking a peek, you were unsure of what you’d find.

The sight of Tim exceeded all of your expectations. 

His hair was messy. The ends that typically curled slightly away from his face and against the back of his neck were wild, sticking out in every direction. Even though it had only been a few hours, the stubble on his cheeks looked darker - the patchy places much more defined than usual. 

And while you had the blanket pulled up to your chest, Tim didn’t, most of his upper body exposed as he laid on his side and faced you. He’s got so many freckles. They were scattered across his body - some only a few shades darker than the rest of him, others much larger and more visible. 

Rays of golden sunlight were shining in through the slats of the blinds, illuminating his skin. Even in your half-awake state, you knew you wouldn’t forget any of the details. And if I do, I’ll be pissed.

You wanted to reach out and touch him, but didn’t know if it was a good idea or not. Or if he wants me to. The longer you looked, the more intrigued you were. So without second guessing yourself, you reached over, letting your fingertips trail over the front of his shoulder. “G’morning, Tim.” 

It was a relief when instead of pulling away, he scooted closer, extending his arm under the blanket and squeezing your hip. “It’s actually not morning anymore, but I won’t tell anyone if you don’t. Not morning? What time is it then? “When’s the last time you got 8 hours of sleep?” 

“Eight hours? Did you…” Your jaw dropped as you sucked in a breath. “Are you kidding me?” 

“No. It’s a little after noon.” He pushed up on one elbow for a second and then laid back down, his smile widening. “Closer to 1, actually.” How is that even possible? 

“Jesus. I didn’t mean to sleep for so long. I’m sorry. You had things to do today, let me get my stuff, and I’ll -”

“You don’t want anything to eat?” He frowned. “I’ve just got a couple files to go through and some tapes to listen to. There’s plenty of time for me to do that later.” Are you sure? He was watching you intently, and in the sunlight, you noticed that the deep brown of his eyes was tinged with caramel. They’re so… he’s… When Tim spoke again, his tone was soft. “I just woke up, too. This wasn’t only you sleeping in.” 

“I…” You let out a deep, slow breath, closing your eyes. “I just didn’t want to overstay my welcome.” 

“I have no problem kicking someone out when it’s time for ‘em to go.” His grip on your hip tightened momentarily and then the man released you, rolling away from you and onto his back. “And you’re in no danger of that right now, I promise.” 

You had no choice but to take him at his word, mirroring him and rolling onto your back, raising both arms above your head and pointing your toes to stretch. His mattress was just the right side of firm, the sheets still cool beneath you, even though you’d spent the previous eight hours laying atop them. When is the last time I slept so well? 

“It’s been …” You yawned, covering your mouth and turning your head to the left. “It’s been about four months since I’ve gotten this much sleep. I got the flu last year, and took meds one night. They knocked me out.” 

“When I first started my job,” Tim sighed as he stretched, too. Your eyes followed the movement of his chest as he did, the man’s back arching and a quiet groan escaping his lips at the end of it. Fuck. Look at him. “I’d purposely take Nyquil the second I got home from work before my day off. Gave me enough time to throw a load of clothes in and eat something, but it never failed to knock me out through the night. And I indeed it.” 

“But now?” Rolling onto your stomach, you folded your arms beneath the pillow, resting one cheek against it as you watched him. “Now you drink obscene amounts of caffeine in various diners at midnight and then sleep a few hours a night?” 

“It’s called adaptation, thank you very much.” He grinned, sitting up and looking down at you. “Dosing myself with Nyquil every week wasn’t healthy. Had to change something.” Tim went silent, still watching you, and only moments later, both of you were laughing, the sound filling the sun-warmed room. “I’m going to go downstairs. Take your time, alright?” 

He reached for you as he spoke, the tips of his fingers trailing over the bare skin of the back of your bicep, and you shivered again at his touch. He had to see that. And if he didn’t see it, he must have felt it. “Won’t take me long.” You blinked up at him, the two of you locking eyes. 

For long moments, you just stared at each other - like each of you was waiting for the other to make a move, but then Tim lowered his head, shaking it and climbing off of the mattress before adjusting the waistband of his sweats and grabbing for his glasses. “I can start breakfast. There anything you want?” Yeah, you. 

“I’m not too picky.” You sat up, eyes on the man as he headed for the doorway. “What do you have?”

“Why don’t you tell me if there’s anything you can’t or won’t eat, and then I’ll go from there.” Stopping with one hand on the doorframe, he looked back over his shoulder. “Like I said, I got groceries delivered the other day.” 

It only took a few seconds for you to give him the requested information, Tim’s nod of confirmation making you grin. Moments later, you were treated to a view of the man’s back as he walked down the hallway, arms swinging by his sides, his glasses still clutched between his fingers. Did last night actually happen? 

Blowing out a breath, you reached out, pressing your hand to the still-wrinkled space he’d just vacated. Yes. It did. 

You wanted to snoop around his room a little, but chose not to, instead going straight into the bathroom and doing what you needed to do. He’d know if I went through anything. Of course he would. 

You did let yourself thumb through his medicine cabinet, though, smiling as you found a glass bottle of cologne. Tom Ford Tuscan Leather. He likes the expensive stuff.  Pulling it off of the shelf, you raised it to your nose and sniffed, smile growing wider. 

The scent was recognizable, though by the time you came into contact with the man in the diner, it had long since settled into his skin - which meant that you were used to it being more diluted. And since the bed didn’t smell like it, that means … the sheets were clean. 

That shocked you. 

Not because you thought that Tim was lazy, but because he’d been thoughtful enough to change the sheets while he waited for you. But that might mean that he was with someone recently. That thought made your smile waver, but the one immediately afterward brought it back. Wonder if my perfume’s going to linger on his pillows for tonight. I hope so.

The smile stayed on your face as you splashed it with water and then dried it on a folded hand towel. You placed it back on the countertop before straightening your clothes and heading out of the bedroom. Here goes nothing. 

You heard the sound of music playing quietly as you climbed down the steps and paused at the bottom of them, watching as Tim moved around in front of the stove. 

He was still shirtless - the broad expanse of his back and shoulders covered in just as many freckles as his chest. Even though you tried not to, your eyes wandered down to his waist, the sweatpants hanging low enough on his hips that the waistband of his underwear should have been visible. And it’s not, so that means he isn’t wearing any. Unconsciously, your fingers curled against your palms as you licked your lips, drawing in a shaky breath. Damn. Look at him. 

“You gonna stand there and stare all afternoon, or come over here?” Oops. He flung a towel over one shoulder, twisting to look back at you and arching a brow. “At least give me something to look at, too.” 

“Yeah, because this outfit is so sexy, Tim.” He laughed along with you, pointing at the cupboard where his mugs were before you could even ask. “Want a cup?” 

“Yeah, but I’ll get it myself in a minute. You’re not at work right now.” Making yourself a cup of coffee from the pot he’d brewed, you fought the urge to stand next to him and look at what he was cooking. Instead, you stepped back into the living room. “Should only be a couple more minutes before the food’s ready.” Humming in approval, you looked around the room, sipping the steaming liquid. 

“I love all the windows.” Stopping in front of the sliding glass door - which was open to let some air in, you sighed. “It’s so bright in here.” 

“It’s one of the reasons I picked it.” Reaching for serving dishes, Tim began to load them up with what he’d cooked, clearing his throat. “Looked at about ten other condos first, and nothing felt right. But then I saw this one. And it was bright and sunny out, and every room just felt… lived in.” He slid two empty plates onto the kitchen island and then turned back to the stove. “There was nothing in here and it still felt like home.” Hopefully I’ll find a place like that someday.

“So you decorated this place yourself?” Running your fingers over the top of the couch back, you hummed. “Because it’s impressive.” 

“I can’t take all the credit.” He said your name, drawing your attention. “I picked out most of it, but I had some help.” A girlfriend? A friend? Family? “When I moved to San Francisco, I had an apartment out there, so I had to fill it, and some of that made its way here, too. Food’s ready, by the way.” 

Walking back and sitting down next to him, you angled your chair so that you could look at the man. “It looks incredible, Tim. Thank you.” He smiled, running one hand through his hair and dragging the locks into even more disarray. “Where’d you learn to cook?”

“My mom taught me when I was a kid. And then when I moved, I didn’t want to be one of those guys that orders out every night or eats frozen pizza all the time.” He filled his plate as he spoke, and you did the same. It smells so damn good. “So I learned. I don’t watch much TV, but I do watch cooking shows and YouTube videos for recipes.” 

“Seriously?” Taking a bite, you almost moaned at the taste of the food. It was only breakfast - and nothing even that complicated, but it was still delicious. “Well, they’ve definitely paid off.” His smile widened, the man winking at you as he chewed on the corner of a piece of toast. 

“If I didn’t think that you would have run out the door in fear, I would have offered to cook for you on Tuesday night.” He sipped his own coffee. “But after the misunderstanding about why I was asking about you in the first place, I figured that it wasn’t the best plan.” 

“If you’d rather do that, Tim, I…” Is this a good idea? Probably not, but … “It’s up to you. If you want to cook, I won’t tell you no.” Pointing the fork at him, you narrowed your eyes. “I mean, I spent the night with you last night and nothing too terrible happened, so…” 

“Too terrible? Ha, ha. Let me think about it.” He winked at you, taking another bite. He never finished telling me about the furniture. You didn’t want to purposely circle back to it. It wasn’t like you were interrogating each other, or grilling him about his past. It just came up. He’s the one that brought it up. “It’s been a while since I’ve cooked dinner for anyone.” Does he want me to ask? 

“Either way, Tim, I’d … still like to see you Tuesday.” You finished your coffee, chasing a piece of potato around on your plate with your fork. “If you still want to.” 

“I do.” He pushed his plate away, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms. “And to get back to the furniture thing … When I moved back to Sacramento, I only had enough stuff for one bedroom, half of my office, and a shitty couch. I wanted this place to look nice, so I asked a friend of mine to tell me what she thought would look good.” 

“A friend?” Oops. Biting your lip, you winced. “Sorry, that came out wrong.” 

“Yes. A friend.” He stared at you, unblinking. “No reason to lie to you about it. She and I met in college, hooked up a couple times, and then realized that we were both from this area, but had gone to different high schools. I didn’t see her much when I was working in San Francisco, but when I moved back home, we picked up where we left off.” Oh. Oh, that sounds like… 

“Do you still see her now?” Busying yourself with finishing what was on your plate, you averted your eyes. “Is my being here going to -”

“No.” He reached over, laying his hand on your arm, fingers curling around it. “I mean yes, I still see her now, every now and then, but we’re not dating. She understands how hard my job makes it for me to meet people and have real relationships, and even though she’s got a regular job, she travels a lot, so we just … it sounds fucking cliche for someone my age to say it, but … it’s a friends with benefits situation and that’s it.” 

“Oh.” Your voice was weaker than you would have liked it to be, but his answer had surprised you. “Well, I mean, at least you have a way to blow off steam when you need to.” There were other questions that you wanted to ask - and plenty of things you wanted to say. But you forced yourself to stay silent, eyes on your plate. Because it’s weird to ask. “It’s not like you and I are -” 

“I’ve dated a few people since I’ve been back.” Pulling his hand away, Tim crossed his arms. “And every time that happens, I let her know that she shouldn’t expect to hear from me while I’m in a relationship.” 

“And she’s alright with it?”

“Yep.” Tim stood, reaching for your plate. “Want more?” Shaking your head no, you leaned forward, resting your elbows on the countertop. This is a lot. “She’s done the same with me if she’s seeing someone. And we’ve got some of the same friends, so we occasionally run into each other when we’re out with them, but that’s about it, so maybe friends isn’t the right word.” 

“You hit the jackpot there.” Wrinkling your nose, you watched him as he started to rinse the dishes. “Not many women would be happy with that kind of arrangement.”

“Do you mean her, or the women I actually date?” He spun to face you and then surprised you by leaning over the counter, his eyes locked with yours. “Because with her, I’ve never had any problems. Both of us were worried that sleeping together would change the friendship, but so far it hasn’t, and it’s been years that we’ve been this way with each other.” 

“Both.” You decided to be honest, the man’s proximity shocking you into responding quickly. “You’re a catch, Tim, but knowing that you regularly sleep with the same woman between relationships would be a deal breaker for a lot of people.” 

His lips parted, the tip of the man’s tongue poking out between them. “It’s better than a bunch of random hookups, hmm?” He shrugged, finally breaking eye contact. “If Chelsea and I were going to date-date, we already would have. And like I said, if I start dating someone, I focus on that relationship.  It’s not like I trade off between two or three women every week.”

“I’m not judging you.” You held up a hand. “If it works for you, it works for you. And Chelsea’s got a hell of an eye for home decor, so I definitely have nothing bad to say there.” He actually laughed at that, a brief look of relief crossing his features. “Have any of the women you’ve dated met her?” 

“Yeah.” He grimaced. “That was kind of a shit show, to be honest. I’d been with the girl for a couple months, and thought it could get serious. Then we ran into Chelsea and another one of her friends at a bar,” Uh oh. “We tried to keep dating after that, but she - Bridget - said that actually seeing another woman that I’d recently slept with was too much to wrap her head around, and I couldn’t blame her.”

“That’s too bad.” You stood, rounding the counter and going to the sink, where you rinsed out your mug. “She’s the only one that met her?”

“Mmmhmm. Whenever I tell someone about Chelsea, I always tell them that if they want to, they can meet her and see that there’s nothing romantic going on between us, that we just get along and the sex is good. Sometimes, they just blow it off and it is what it is. Other times that’s the last straw. But I’m always honest.” Yeah, but…

“Can I ask you something?” He nodded, standing up and flattening his hands on the countertop. “Why did you tell me all of this? We haven’t been out on a single date yet, and that kiss last night was …” You floundered for a few seconds, trying to think of the right words. “It was great, Tim, but you haven’t even mentioned it this morning. This all just seems … premature.” He opened his mouth to speak, but you continued, cutting him off. “And I get you worrying because of the way I reacted at the diner, but … you don’t owe me anything at this point. And you definitely don’t owe me your sexual history.” 

“Well, shit.” He smiled, the expression lopsided - and even moreso when he tilted his head, shaking it slowly. “I don’t know. And that’s the truth. I definitely don’t usually bring her up until I’m close to sleeping with someone, or in some cases, until after it’s happened and I think things might be getting more serious.” Raising one hand, he chewed on his thumb for a few seconds. “Maybe this is what happens when I sleep like a goddamn brick next to a relative stranger. I get talkative. Honest. Blow my cover of having my shit together because I don’t want to let myself enjoy something and then have it go away.” 

Enjoy something? Does he mean me? Sleeping next to me? “Tim, I -” He said your name then, holding out his hand. You took it without pause, the man squeezing and then gesturing to the couch with his free one. 

You let him lead you there, both of you sinking down into the thick cushions. He was quiet for a few seconds and then looked over at you, the frown back on his face. That can’t be good. “I want to be very clear with you.” 

Your heart sunk. Those words - coming out of a man’s mouth after a night spent together and a conversation that had included mention of the woman he’d een sleeping with on a consistent basis for over a decade - were never good. At least he still made me breakfast. “Ok.” Nodding, you curled your legs underneath your body. “Go for it.” 

“My hours at work being unpredictable isn’t just an excuse. If you could see my timesheets, you’d understand.” He paused, raising an arm and rifling through his hair again. “Tuesday might be the only day I know I have off for a couple weeks, so I don’t want you to think I’m blowing you off if that’s the only night I can plan to see you right now.” 

“You sure you still want to go?” Leaning back, you tilted your head to one side. “I figured that -”

“Fuck yeah, I want to. Especially after last night. Why would you think otherwise?”

“Preemptively setting myself up for disappointment?” Wrinkling your nose, you scoffed. “I don’t know.”

“You know what’s disappointing?” He shifted, scooting slightly closer to you. “That you mentioned that we kissed last night and didn’t try to do it again this morning.” What? “If you didn’t do it upstairs, I thought that maybe breakfast would have made you want another one.” 

“I haven’t had a one night stand that didn’t include sex in … well, ever, Tim. I’m not entirely sure of the protocol for -” 

“To be honest, I’m not either.” Tim rubbed his palms over the tops of his thighs, his eyes locked on your face. “Usually, things are a little better laid out than this when I invite a girl home.” That’s putting it mildly.  “I like you. And I like talking to you. Last night was … unexpected, but…” He trailed off, finally looking away from you and back toward the kitchen. 

You didn’t know if he was at a loss for words, or if he was unwilling to say what he was thinking - and so you took initiative, reaching over and settling one hand on top of his. “I wouldn’t say no to doing it again sometime.” Tim’s head whipped back toward you, his eyes wide behind the lenses of his glasses. “Eight hours of sleep the first time I spend the night with you? I can’t imagine what’ll happen the second night.” 

You winked at him and it happened almost instantaneously - his other arm shooting out to slide around your waist, Tim encircling your body as he urged you closer. “I was hoping you’d say that.” He pressed his forehead to yours, nodding. “And if you sleep that well when all we did was talk before, just wait til you’re sleeping after we’ve done other things.” 

He kissed you after every few words, the man’s lips making their way over the skin of your face - the apple of your cheek, your temple, the space between your brows - and then they hovered over your mouth, Tim waiting for the go-ahead. “Stop it. I’m gonna hold you to that, detective Rockford.” 

And then it was your turn to initiate a kiss, tilting your head so you could meet his waiting mouth. 

He groaned into it almost immediately, his fingers curling against your back while you lifted the hand that wasn’t holding his to grip the hair at the nape of his neck. It was soft against your palm and you sighed, the slight parting of your lips giving him the opening he needed. 

There was nothing tentative about the way he slipped his tongue between them. Nothing hesitant in the way a groan erupted from the back of his throat, giving you the opportunity to swallow it down. He didn’t hold back when he began to ease you backwards and toward the pillows, hovering over you after slipping his hand from yours and using it to brace himself against the arm of the couch. 

The two of you stayed like that for long minutes - you nestled comfortably against the cushions and pillows, Tim’s shirtless body pressed against yours as you held him close. Fuck I like this. “I hope you do hold me to it.” He finally replied when he pulled away to breathe, though his warm breath on your ear made you shiver. “But…” Tim hummed, sitting back up and giving you more space.  “Unless you want to give my neighbors a show, I should probably get up.” 

“Probably.” Snorting back a laugh, you blew out a breath and tried to calm your racing heart. “Maybe I don’t like all these damn windows, Tim.” He laughed, too, the man standing and using both hands to readjust the waistband of his sweats. 

You couldn’t help looking - and noticing the trail of dark hair leading down over the soft slope of his lower belly and beneath the elastic, or the small scar on the right side of his abdomen. “Appendix.” He swiped his fingers over it.  “Had it out when I was 14. Got to miss more than a week of school.” He said your name and you tore your eyes away from his body, looking up. “Anything else you want to know?”

“Oh, I have about fifty more questions about you Tim.” Your gaze flicked back down, your lips curving upward at the sight of the slight bulge beneath the fabric. Good. So it wasn’t just me that enjoyed that kiss. “But they can wait til Tuesday.” 

“Alright.” He extended a hand, waiting until you took it to speak again, but you could hear the amusement in his tone at your declaration. “How about that tour?” 

— 

Tim didn’t come into the diner during your shift on Monday night. 

Part of you was disappointed, even though you knew that you’d see him the following day for dinner. But I can’t be too upset. 

He’d texted a few times Sunday night and Monday during the day, though those messages had stopped once you’d ended your normal workday, the man’s final message to you short and sweet. 

Hope your nap’s a good one. Get some rest. 

It had been, and you were wide awake and alert throughout the beginning of your shift. But you’d been hesitant to message him, even though you needed to know what the plan for the following night was. 

So, on your first break, you finally sent a text back, not expecting a reply right away. 

It was a good one. Hope you’re not working too late tonight. Did you decide what we’re doing tomorrow for dinner? 

Your phone vibrated only seconds later, Tim’s message making you grin. 

Got a couple minutes. Can you talk? 

Sending back a yes, you stood and let Jesse know you were going to take a break but wouldn’t be long, and then stepped into the brightly lit back parking lot. Once outside, you propped the door open and took a seat on the retaining wall. 

Briefly glancing up at the starlit sky, you inhaled and then dialed, bringing the phone up to your ear. 

Tim answered on the second ring, his low voice immediately putting you at ease as he said your name. “You on break?” 

“I am now. What about you?” 

“I’m actually in my office at the station. Was able to bring someone in earlier tonight, and I’m finishing paperwork after the arrest.” 

“Congratulations, Tim.” You meant it - lips splitting into a grin as you spoke. “One down, ten more to go.” He laughed, agreeing. 

“Not quite that many right now, but close. And we might have arrested someone earlier, but that doesn’t mean that it’s over, just that now we have to wait for trial to do anything else.” 

You gave yourself a few seconds to think about Tim actually doing his job - investigating clues and doing interviews, staking a suspect out, using handcuffs to make an arrest and then interrogating them. But when you realized that your heartbeat had quickened, you shook yourself out of it and cleared your throat. Not now. “Are you starting anything new tonight?” 

“No. There’s a couple things that my department’s working now, but once I finish with this, I’m going home.” You were happy for him, nodding though he couldn’t see you. “And as for your question …” Tim sighed, clearing his throat. “Can I cook for you? Won’t be a five star Italian restaurant, but it’ll be good, and -”

“Yes.” You cut him off, hoping that he wouldn’t get upset at the interruption. “That sounds perfect.” 

“Really? Alright. I’ll send over a couple ideas, and you can let me know if you don’t like any of them. I’ll get a few hours of sleep and then go to the store tomorrow when I wake up.” 

“Do you like wine? I can bring a bottle.” You didn’t know if the man drank - but it was as good a way as any to find out. “Or I can bring beer. It doesn’t matter to me.”

“I don’t usually drink wine, no. But if you want to bring a bottle, I’ll have a glass with you.” He paused. “And I do drink beer. I’m not picky about that.” Good to know. “But I should get back to this. I’m almost done… and if you can believe it, I haven’t had any coffee since this afternoon, so I am exhausted.”

You rubbed at your face with one hand, fighting back a yawn. That makes two of us. “Yeah, I need to get back inside, too.” You wet your lips, picking at the corner of your apron. “See you tomorrow.”

“Does 6:30 work? Will that give you enough time?” You told him it would, and then Tim spoke up again, repeating your name. “I’m looking forward to dinner.” He said it as a matter-of-fact admission, the man’s honesty shocking you. 

“Yeah. I am too, Tim.” 

You hung up shortly after and headed back inside, Jesse telling you that two tables were seated, but Nicki had taken them. That meant that there was nothing you needed to do, so you sat back down in the kitchen, thinking. 

He wants to cook for me a second time. He’s inviting me back to his house. He’s being honest with me. 

You knew that it would likely all come crashing down at some point. You expected the likelihood that you’d find something out about Tim that truly bothered you, or that he’d do something to put you off. But that’s not happening now. 

Nicki walked into the back, the woman letting you know that there was a third table waiting for you. Standing and swiping your hands over the front of your thighs, you nodded at her, pasting a smile on your face. 

No, for now I’m just going to enjoy things as they happen…. No matter what they are. 

— 

tag list coming soon!