#AM I SUPPOSED TO LAY LOW AND EXPECT THAT I WILL NEVER FUCKING KNOW??

[darkniters]

i wrote this in 2021 for cscoop but i will replace coopers name with schlatts. enjoy!

-

"very sorry about having to delay the video again! i'm working really really hard on it, just give me some extra time, and i'll have it up by next week!"

... i feel bad for lying to the fans, but what am i supposed to say in a situation like this. 'oh sorry loyal viewers of the y/c/n youtube channel, ive been a bit busy having a child.'

i hadn't told anyone about her, and i wasn't really planning on it until she was old enough to conveniently walk into my recording studio. i made a really bad decision months ago when i decided to fuck a dude i didn't know, but the outcome was truly someone beautiful.

i sighed and decided that i should maybe try get a video out by next week, so i get off my ass and head to my recording room. however, before i do so i go to my own room to check on my little girl.

she's sleeping peacefully in the dimly lit room, nothing but her soft breathing being heard. i smile, not in a million years would i expect this to happen. when i found out i was pregnant i was mortified, i told nobody, i still haven't, what will they think of me if they found out i just fucked a random dude? i'd be slaughtered for sure. however, when i first lay eyes on her, i knew that she deserved all the love in the world, for she was perfect.

instead of staring at my child for the next hour i decide to finally get out of the room and work on the video i promised. it was already recorded, just editing to do, so the fun parts already over with. instead of wearing headphones, i let the sound come straight from my speakers, with my pc turned down extremely low, just to not disturb my daughters slumber.

the videos not too hard to edit, just a gameplay of castle crashers with the sleep deprived gang. the memories of the recording session rushed back as i was editing, a smile was brought to my face.

"go dude get his ass!' i yell into my mic.

'you're fuckin alive too y/n, help me out here!' schlatt responds 'besides, you were all talk earlier, what was that you said 'ougghhh i'm sooo good at castle crashers i finished all of it on the original xbox, you guys wont get any opportunity to shine.'

the rest of the group laugh as schlatt teases. mika ended up getting the final kill on the boss.

'god, you two tease SO much, why dont you two just fuck already?' mika joked. the group laughed once more, however, i was left thinking... is this really what everyone else thinks? do they know im pregnant? oh god...

'you good y/n? shit was a joke please dont think too much about it. i dont wanna get too many thoughts into your head.' mika interrupts your thought process.

'dont worry moka, i was just thinkin of a good response, since schlatts mouth is a little too full at the moment.' i smile, leading up to a bit, hoping schlatt gets where i'm trying to go with it. i never actually thought of cooper as such, however, the idea was intriguing... i wouldn't say no if he ever asked me out... and with this little dude on the way, itd be a good help.

'my mouths too full? what the fucks that supposed to mean?' schlatt quizzes, surprisingly he doesn't know what i'm leading up to. thats not like jschlatt...

'your mouths filled up with deez nuts dog, jesus christ' you giggle, schlatt groans in response, a bang on his desk being heard over the discord call. once again the other members in the call erupted into laughter.

'how'd you miss that coming, schlatt! i saw that shit from 300 miles away!' aztro struggles to say, her voice filled with laughter.

'surley.' mika simply says.

'look shut up, i'm a bit stup- oH SHIT WATCH YOUR ASSES WE HAVENT SAVED' schlatt yells out, but it's a little bit too late, as each knights health runs to 0.

the video was edited in the span of 3 hours, and with regular checks on the wee doll, everything was going fine.

you let your subscribers know that the video was done and ready to be uploaded with a tweet and youtube community post.

'hey dudes! the videos all ready to upload! see you guys again next week!'

as soon as i posted, likes and quote retweets were flying in. the people in the replies were ecstatic, and all of the dudes were dropping 'welcome backs :D' in the comments.

however, when i saw the response from schlatt, i swear my smile beamed more.

'welcome back fuckhead, we hangin later, yea? awesome, i'll be an hour ;)'

though my smile didn't last, for i looked down to see my daughter in my arms. oh. fuck.

what's schlatt gonna say when he sees you?!

hes gonna think im a whore! oh fuck my friendships gone hes gonna tell everyone, and im just getting feelings for him and everythings goin- woah hold on.

. . .

it sounds so right to say that?

i have feelings... for johnathan jschlatt...

i have feelings for johnathan jschlatt...

i have FEELINGS for JOHNATH okay we get it.

there's definitely a blush on my face, but i gotta put this newly discovered truth to the side, cause this silly little goobers here. what do i do?! i cant just stuff her into a closet! my plans foiled!

aegghhh...

this panic ensures for an hour, until that dreadful moment where theres a knock on the door.

i put her back into my bedroom, hoping that theres a chance that maybe she'll sleep again?

and walk back down the hall...

to the front door...

and slowly pull the handle...

to reveal...

...

schlatt, of course, who else was i expecting.

"schlatty!" i exclaim, pulling him into a tight hug.

"ey, whats up y/n," schlatt responds, return the hug, placing his head atop of mine. "you've been offline for a bit and wanted to see if everythings good. i hope you don't mind me suddenly coming over." he chuckles.

i smile in relief, hes so chill all the time. "don't worry, i've just been a bit.. pre-occupied, i'm perfect as usual dude." i close the door after schlatt, and we both walk into the living room.

theres no shortage of conversations, johnathan talks about how him, mika and pandah recently had a massive clear out, and he found an old glow in the dark ring i won for him in an arcade years ago.

-

"'we're only 20 points away from being able to get anything from the prize counter, come on john, lets play some easy mini games!' a 18 year old y/n replays in your mind.

'you want to get something so bad get your own points... i'll keep watch though cause i know you too well, y/n.' johnathan responds. 'besides, you wouldn't want me to miss if you got something huge, right?'

i stick my tongue out, preparing to spin a wheel with numerous numbers of points on them. it finally lands on 100 points, which definitely isn't the most but it's not the lowest amount either.

'YOOOOO!' you yell in unison, claiming your points.

as we arrive at the counter, i see this glow in the dark ring and decide 'john will hate me for this'

so i purchased it, and jokingly proposed to johnathan. to my surprise, he said yes, and wore it back to his house, his parents question it, i remember. they've been very keen on johnathan and i getting together, ever since we were younger. too bad my plans changed...

as we both kept reminiscing of the past and our food arrived, everything was going quite well. she was silent for majority of the time schlatt was in my home, which is really lucky.

we would occasionally go silent, and during that time i would scan johnathans face. he'd catch me starting from time, and he'd stare at me with forced wider eyes. we'd laugh at this.

unfortunately the moment was ruined, for a small, frail cry could be heard down the hall. at this moment i could feel my soul leave my body FUCK

"dude..." johnathan begins hesitantly. he looks extremely confused. "you.. you fuckin... child dlc?"

you both laugh at the comment, however he still looks lost. the kids probably best not to be left crying, so i head to the room to bring her down the hall. i come back, and his face shows a bit more understanding.

"woah." he gawks. his head relaxing on his shoulders and his muscles un-tensing. a smile is brought to my face.

at this point the small wails from the girl has stopped, her tiny frame in your arms as you sit down next to johnathan, a little closer than last.

"shes my little dude! sorry i didnt really say anything... i didnt want anyone to know, especially the youtube dudes..." at the end i trail off, thinking how stupid that sounds. these guys are some of my closest friends, why would they judge me for something like this?

one of his arms wrap around my shoulder and the other wraps around the little girl in my arms. theres a tranquil smile on his face, as he looks down at her.

"why'd you think hiding something this cool was good idea, y/n? look at her! she's awesome, i'm sure the dudes will love her!" he laughs. he leans his head against mine, and my face grows warm. "still surprised you 'got some' though, yknow what im sayin?" you can feel a faint smile tug your lips.

schlatts finger runs down the childs arm softly, and ends at her hand. he stopped and stared as her tiny fingers gripped around his finger. truth be told, he was astatic that his long time friend had a child. he was so happy to see his friend happy, and to have her here in his arms, and her daughter made everything better.

he loved you.

he kept staring at the little girl in my arms, his eyes unmoving, but there were another set of eyes that were unmoving.

my eyes kept on schlatts face, a dazed smile plastered on both of our faces. unnoticed, i put my hand over johnathans which rested on my shoulder.

his eyes move to look at mine, a shimmer in his eyes as his pupils grow. i study his face, his pasty physique now grazed with a soft pink, and his lips slightly parted. his eyes seem to be doing the same as yours.

his hands turning around to grasp mine, and just now am i noticing how silent the room is, all that is heard is the breathing from the three of us. a nervous smile once again graces my lips, leaning my back into johnathan a little more.

after a couple of more seconds of decision on wether or not this is what we should be doing, our mouths finally meet.

it was a very quick kiss, but we take no time at all to go back for a second, then a third.

and then a fourth.

once finished, we both smiled and looked down, both of our faces a rose like color. johnathans hands still caught by the girl in my arms, and my own.

"i could get used to this." johnathan says after some time, his head leaning into mine. all three of us falling asleep on one another. i hum in response, with a small chuckle coming through. i turn my head and give him another kiss on the cheek, and as i do it his cheeks turn red again. some of his brown hair falls down closer to his face as he looks at me again, simply to return the favor.

his lips are slightly chapped, but still feel soft and perfect against yours, he parts first, feeling his finger finally being let go. she had fallen asleep.

"my fingers sweaty... euch" he whispers, making a grossed out noise at the end. he leaned back into you. "love you."

i feel hot again.

"love you too johnathan."

-

this story was better when it wasnt jschlatt dont care hope you enjoyed

[strawmyberry]

aaa omg i absolutely loved your headcanons they are so cute!! 💗 also im tumblr is being mean 😭 i hope everything gets fixed soon <33

aa do you think you could maybe write something with kenny?? lee or ler is fine, anything you want!! your hcs for him are just so adorable i can't choose which side i like more 😭 i honestly am just looking forward to anything you have planned <3 tysm!! i hope you have a good day! 💗💗

aaaa!!! toast you are the sweetest 🥹 thank you so much for all the love and support!! it truly means the world! im so sorry this took so long!!! i hope it’s at least a little bit worth it- im still trying to get into the swing of things- so im sorry if it isn’t the best! also it has a super long intro sorry sorry sorry!! i hope you guys enjoy!!! (first fic yayyyy!!!)

— ❤️🍓 strawberry 🍓❤️

🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓🍓

Swallow Your Pride!

Lee Kenny / Ler Stan and Kyle

Word Count: 3,038

With Cartman in Nebraska for the first few weeks of summer, Stan and Kyle think a celebration is in order! Kenny is a bit iffy on the idea; but every problem can be solved with just a little bit of friendly persuasion!

❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Oh shit, dude. I’m so sorry to hear that.”

That day had started like any other. The sun was shining, the birds were chirping, and even though it was summer, the snow kept snowing. Softer than it normally would, sure, but the snow was a bit of a damper on the Teen Beach Movie summer that Stan had secretly been yearning for. 

It wasn’t hard to believe that Stan expected today to go like it typically would: a casual hang-out, at his house, with his friends, the four of them having a fun little Mortal Kombat: Onslaught tournament. 

“No! No, really, I am! It’s not gonna be the same without you, man. How long are you gonna be there for?” 

But it seemed like fate had other plans today. With his phone held against his ear, Stan would pace around his living room as he spoke. Kyle sat criss-cross-applesauce on the floor while Kenny laid on his side behind him, resting his head comfortably on one of Stan’s throw pillows. They were (not so) patiently awaiting Cartman’s arrival. They wanted to start kicking some ass already!

Every now and then Kyle would manage to make eye contact with Stan, shooting him a look that could only be described as a mixture of irritation and confusion. “Where the fuck is he? What’s taking so long?” He’d whisper, crossing his arms tight against his chest as Stan held up his “give me a second” finger. He’d grumble a bit at that, adding an eye roll to the mix. They could’ve started thirty minutes ago if Cartman came when he was supposed to! 

“Yeah.” Stan would pause, nodding his head. He’d turn, his eyes bouncing between Kyle and Kenny. “No, don’t worry. I’ll tell them.” He’d say, turning back around as he’d begin pacing a bit more. That seemed to peek Kyle’s attention even more, now turning to Kenny with a raised brow. 

“What do you think they’re talking about? What excuse is Cartman gonna try to pull this time?” He’d ask, trying his hardest to keep his volume low. He had never really been the best whisperer. 

“I don’t know..” Kenny would shrug, getting up from his comfortable laying position to be able to hear better. 

“Maybe he died.” Kyle would joke, letting out an overdramatic sigh. “That would be fucking awesome, wouldn’t it?” He’d add, cupping his hands together in a wistful Disney princess pose. 

Kenny couldn’t help but let a few giggles slip at Kyle’s dramatics, beginning to tighten his parka. Kyle would start softly chuckling to himself as a result of Kenny’s infectious laugh, being quick to shush Kenny while still staring at Stan intently. “Shhh! Duhude, shut up! I can’t hear!” He’d whisper through his own giggles, batting his hand at him. 

“I hear you. Okay. Yeah. I’ll let them know.” Stan would stop his pacing, now beginning to walk himself back to the center of the living room. Kyle’s giggles slowly faded as he analyzed Stan’s facial expression. He looked…upset. Shit. Did something genuinely happen? He was only joking about Cartman dying-!

“Yeah. I’ll talk to you later. Bye, dude.” 

Stan would wait for the click, shifting his eyes from his phone to the two curious boys sitting in front of him. He looked…sad. The somber expression on his face scaring away the playful atmosphere that had once graced the room. Kyle couldn’t help but hesitate before asking his next question. 

“…What happened?”

Stan would blink at that question, staring at his phone again before slowly sliding it into his pocket. “Kyle…it’s Cartman…” Stan would start, his tone heavy and serious. Oh god. Kyle would begin mentally preparing himself. He prayed to God that Stan wouldn’t start crying. He couldn’t handle Stan crying. But, after a split second, it was apparent he wouldn’t have to worry about that at all.

“Cartman’s gone for two weeks!” 

The mood in the room completely changed. Stan’s face completely changed. The frown on his face turned itself around real quick, now replaced with one of the most vibrant smiles Kyle had ever seen. Dramatic asshole. That was his first thought. After he had comprehended what Stan said though, he had a completely different thought. 

“You’re shitting me!”

“I’m not! I’m not shitting you!” 

“You’re not shitting him?”

“No! No, I’m not! Cartman’s-“

“Dude!”

“-going to Nebraska-“ 

“No way!” 

“-to see his family! For two weeks!” 

“Thank you, GOD!” Kyle would cheer, jumping up from the floor. “Dude we gotta- we gotta do something!” Kyle could hardly contain himself as he celebrated. Deep down, he wanted to burst out into song. ‘The Witch Is Dead’ sounded like a pretty good option at the moment. And he wasn’t the only one pumped up either! Kenny was bouncing on his toes with excitement! They had prayed for this day for so long- and it was finally happening! 

“We need to celebrate!” Stan would exclaim. “Uh- shit! What should we do? It has to be something special.” He’d begin pacing around the room again, only this time; he was joined by Kyle and Kenny. 

“We should go get food!” Kyle would suggest. 

“Yeah! Let’s get food!” Kenny would second. Sure, you couldn’t see the smile on his face because of his parka; but you could pretty much hear it! 

“Okay! Food!” Stan would agree. Perfect! This was going great! “It’s settled then! We’re getting food!” He’d announce, the real question settling in as the words left his mouth. “…Uh. Where are we going to get food?” Oh. Yeah. They hadn’t really thought about that. Huh. The three boys would exchange looks, waiting for one of the other two to offer up an idea. 

“Bennigan’s!” Kyle would confidently propose, an accomplished smile on his face. “We never go to Bennigan’s! Let’s do something new and go to Bennigan’s!” 

Stan’s jaw would drop, nodding his head. “Dude! You’re a GENIUS! Hell yeah, let’s go to Bennigan’s!” With that settled Stan would rush over to the door, Kyle following closely behind. The two were so eager, they wouldn’t even notice how Kenny wasn’t following after them. 

“I can post it on TikTok- so he knows how much fun we’re having without him!” Kyle would smirk. He had always dreamed of this moment. He could only imagine how red his stupid, smug face would get after seeing how not-in-shambles they were without him there. 

“Dude. Perfect! This is gonna be sick!” Stan couldn't help but smile as he opened the front door. He’d turn, now noticing how Kenny was still in the same place that he was ten seconds prior. Maybe he hadn’t heard them the first time? “C’mon, Kenny! We’re going to Bennigan’s!” He’d call, beginning to make his way out the door.

“You guys go without me- have fun!”

Well- that wasn't what they expected. Stan would walk back into the house, Kyle following. He’d close and lock the door, a frown forming on his face as he walked toward Kenny. “But...you have to come! It won't be a celebration without you!” He’d insist. 

“Yeah! ...Do you not like Bennigan’s?” Kyle would ask, trying to offer up solutions. “We can go someplace else if you don't wanna go to Bennigan’s!” 

“No…Bennigan’s isn’t the problem.” Kenny loved the sound of going to Bennigan’s. Sitting and eating with his friends sounded like so much fun. But…he didn’t think he could afford that right now. It sucked that he had to turn the offer down, but it was much better than the alternative-

“Kenny…you know we could pay for-“

“No.” Kenny would deny Kyle’s offer before he even got the full thing out. It wouldn’t be the first time this exact scenario had played out; and every single time Kenny agreed to let them pay for him, he’d get home and have to deal with the guilt of it all. He didn’t wanna deal with that today! 

“Dude, it’s really not a big deal. Kyle and I can split-“

“I don’t want you to pay for me.” Throwing himself down onto Stan’s couch, he’d cross his arms. He wasn’t going to budge on his one. “Just go. Have fun!” Grabbing the drawstrings on his parka, he’d pull it shut, signaling that he was done talking. Conversation over. 

“But, Kenny…Kenny, we really want you to-!” Kyle would start to say, only to get cut off by a hand being placed on his shoulder. He’d turn to Stan to give him another look; just to be met with a completely different look staring right back at him. 

They’d stare at each other for a few minutes, not a word leaving their lips before Kyle finally broke the silence. “…Gotcha’.”

“Kenny…” Stan would start, glancing at Kyle every now and then to make sure he was getting into position. “We really want you to come.” He’d say, sitting down on Kenny’s left. He’d wait for Kyle to sit down on his right before continuing. 

“Surely, there must be some way we could-“ Snaking his hand around, he’d loop his hands under both of Kenny’s arms, turning him counterclockwise. “Twist your arm on this?” With that line dropped, he’d give Kyle a wink. His silent way of saying “He’s all yours.” 

Kenny would let out a surprised yelp at being grabbed, taking a second to truly comprehend the predicament he was in. He’d try to open his mouth to bargain, or beg, or something that could save him- but Kyle wasted no time. All he managed to get out was a startled, “Wait- please don’t!” before Kyle began digging his finger into his sides. A squeal would be ripped from his throat as he immediately began to thrash from side to side.

“Guhuhuys! Stohohop ihihit!!” He’d giggle, a bit embarrassed by how easily it was to make him laugh. He’d thrash around in Stan’s hold, kicking his legs in an attempt to break free.

“Don’t kick me, Kenny! I’ll make it, like, ten times worse!” Kyle would teasingly threaten, squeezing both of his sides one at a time. Like a little pattern! “You know, I’ll stop tickling you if you come to Bennigan’s with us!” 

“Mm-mhmhmhmhm!!! I dohohon’t wahahanna!!” Kenny would frantically shake his head, throwing himself to and fro as he laughed. He’d clench his hands into fists, yanking himself forward. But it seemed whenever Kenny thought he got the tiniest bit of leverage- Stan would just tighten his grip. 

“Kenny, c’mon! Kyle’s being so nice to you right now!” Stan would remark, speaking from experience. Actually, he couldn’t help but feel a little bit jealous. Why couldn’t he go that easy on him? “Don’t you want to quit while you’re ahead? He’s being super merciful.”

“Stan. Don’t backseat drive, dude. If you think you could do better, we could just switch-“ Kyle would scoff, although it was easy to tell he wasn't as offended as his words made him sound. “If you don't trust my tickling abilities, that’s fine-” He’d grumble, sneaking his fingers under Kenny’s parka. He’d walk his fingers up and down his sides, making Kenny squeak from the sudden switch-up.

“No! No no- I get what you're doing- building suspense! I'm down for it, 100%. I'm just... bargaining with him! Tactics. You know?” Stan would quickly change his tune, nodding in agreement.

“Chrihihist!! Thihis ihis sohoho duhuhumb!!” Kenny would whine through his giggles, throwing his head back in annoyance. “I sahaid I dohon’t wahahanna gohoho! Stohohop ihit alreheheady!”

“But you do wanna go Kenny, that’s the problem!” Kyle would insist. “We know you wanna come- make things easier for yourself! We don’t mind paying, just swallow your pride and have lunch with us!”

“Nohohoho!!!” Kenny would squeal as Kyle started poking at his ribs. He’d jerk even harder, still being trapped between the couch and his two friends. “I dohohon’t wahahanna gohoho anywhehere wihihith yohohou dihihickheheads!”

“Dickheads?!”

“Dickheads?”

Kyle would gasp in feigned horror and offense, halting the tickling momentarily; whereas Stan would just blink in confusion. “Where did you get dickheads from? I don’t think I’ve ever heard you call us dickheads before-“

“Dickheads! He called us dickheads, Stan!” Kyle would shout, a stunned expression on his face. “We can’t let him get away with that, right? He called us dickheads!” Kyle would repeat yet again, just in case the word went totally unnoticed. “Say sorry, Kenny! Say you didn’t mean to call us dickheads!”

Kenny would visibly weigh out his options as his sat there, Stan’s arms still holding his tight while Kyle’s hands laid flat on his ribs. Sure, the logical choice would be to just concede and chalk it up to a slip of the tongue. But…Kenny just wasn’t in the mood for that. “…No!” He’d confidently exclaim after a couple of beats. “You guys are dickheads and I don’t wanna go to Bennigan’s!”

“No? Fine! Suit yourself, dude. Stan, can you focus up there?” Kyle would ask, removing his fingers from Kenny’s parka. He’d crack both his knuckles, watching as Stan grabbed both of Kenny’s wrists with his left hand before beginning to hold them above his head. “You wanna be an asshole? Fine then, be an asshole!”

Kenny would giggle in anticipation, pulling at his arms, hoping for some miracle surge of strength that would let him pull his arms down. But it seemed like his luck really wasn’t there today, since no miracle surge would ever appear. He’d squeeze his eyes shut, bracing himself as he got ready for the countdown. They would have to do a countdown, right?

Wrong. Kenny was very wrong. Stan and Kyle would have some prolonged eye contact for a little bit, communicating when to start. About five seconds after Kenny closed his eyes was what they settled on. Kyle would give Stan a moment to go first, nodding his head as Stan abruptly began scribbling his fingers into Kenny’s armpits.

“WAHAhahait! Stahahan!” Kenny would jump from the sudden attack, a peel of laughter pouring out. “Hehehey, nohoho fahahair! It’s two agahahaisnt ohoneEE-“ Kenny would start to complain, not really expecting Kyle to actually go for the kill. Sure, he said he would…maybe he should’ve known better than to doubt him. But doubt him he did, so he was nowhere near prepared when Kyle dove into his hips.

“SHIHIHIHIT!” Kenny would jolt, letting out a noise that could only be described as the scream of a man who was being brutally murdered. And, for this situation? Pretty valid. “NAHAHAHAT THEHEHEHERE!” He’d cackle, practically screaming with laughter at this point. Very fitting. He’d flail his legs, trying his hardest to get one good kick in- just for a little bit of leeway. Even if it meant he had to roll off the couch, he’d take anything at this point.

“Aw, damn it…” Stan would let out a very fake sigh of disappointment, tsking as he shook his head. “I’m sorry to do this to ya’, Kenny…but I can’t understand you. Like. At all.” He’d say, pouting his lips. Just for the dramatics of it all! “I’m normally fluent in Kenny! I don’t know what happened…” He’d sigh yet again, going agonizingly slow with his portion of the tickling. “…Kyle? Do you know what he said? It’s really bumming me out…”

“Oh, Yeah! Don’t worry dude, I got you!” Kyle would nod with a bright smile, immediately going along with Stan’s little bit. “He said “Please keep tickling me Stan and Kyle! I love being tickled allll over! It’s just soooo much fun! That’s the real reason why I’m being such a dick to you guys! I just loveee being tickled!” Thank you for being so honest with us, Kenny! You should’ve just asked sooner!”

“Ohhhh, I gotcha!” Stan would nod, speeding up his fingers. “Yeah, you should’ve just said so sooner, Kenny! We could keep doing this all day! Oh- actually- that just gave me an idea! Let’s do this instead! We don’t need Bennigan’s, let’s just tickle Kenny alll day long!” Jesus fucking Christ on a bike, Kenny felt like he was going to turn into a fucking tomato. With how red he was, there wouldn’t be that much of a difference. Kenny wanted to keep on a brave face, just let them have their fun until the eventually got tuckered out. But upon hearing Stan’s new “brilliant” idea, Kenny couldn’t help but worry that they actually would put that plan into motion. He couldn’t handle that. Actually, he couldn’t really handle this.

“OKAHAHAHAY!! OKAHAHAY OKAHAHAHAY! I’LL GOHOHOHO!!”

“And?”

“I’M SOHOHOHORRY FOHOHOR CAHAHALLING YOHOU GUHUYS DIHIHICKHEHEADS!! I’M SOHOHO SOHOHORRY!”

Kenny would wave his verbal white flag of surrender in the air, and it would only take milliseconds for both Stan and Kyle to stop tickling, remove their hands, and let him go. He could’ve sworn he saw the two fist-bump as they did, but he was so out of breath, maybe he hallucinated it? He probably didn’t, but he wouldn’t point it out. Just in case.

“Great! Don’t bring your wallet, ‘whole thing is on us!” Stan would casually say, making his way to the door yet again. Kenny wasn’t able to fight the look of utter confusion on his face. The two acted like nothing had just happened, like they didn’t almost kill him a few seconds ago. How the hell-?

“We’re really happy you’re coming, Kenny..” Kyle would say, staying behind for a bit as Stan walked out the door. “You can catch your breath- but don’t take too long! Stan and I are gonna wait for you outside, and we’re not going without you!” And just like that, they were gone. Like nothing had happened. Kenny would be left on the couch; feeling breathless, confused, and kind of…grateful?

They really wanted him to go that bad? He thought he was just being a burden, but they went through all that trouble convincing him- just so he would come? That meant something, didn’t it? Maybe they had a weird way of showing it; but that meant they cared, didn’t it? It had to, right? Words couldn’t really describe how he felt at the moment. In fact, only two words would be able to leave him mouth; let alone come to mind at all.

“‘Fucking dickheads…”

[fratboykate]

Because I can't let it go and I'm an east coaster. Enjoy waking up to this:

Kate tries so hard to make sure the kids are not impacted by her and Yelenas argument. She and Yelena are in agreement on that so with the kids, it's business as usual, but kids got these stupid things called brains and feelings so they know their moms are having problems.

Maks, fearing for his family staying together, apologizes for being upset that Yelena missed the play. Yelena can either break or look at Kate like "he forgives me, why can't you" because I genuinely think she's so analytical and book smart, she forgets feelings so she could really go either way on that.

But you just have the kids walking on eggshells around them and Kate hates it but Yelena keeps saying "we need to get over this" which isn't an apology. It's kicking the can down the road. And so they're in therapy one day and Kate just goes OFF about not letting her kids feel abandoned and Yelena should understand why that issue is so important.

I need to go lay down.

You really can't dangle angst in front of me and expect me to resist. Here's 2k words of "moms are fighting" like that other anon said lol.

---

Yelena pokes her head into the dimly lit office where her wife sits, intently pouring over stacks of documents.

"Hey. You coming to bed?" Kate flips a page and scribbles a note on the edge. "You don't have to sleep in the guest room...You should come to bed...I stopped at La Perla on my way home and bought some new things I could show you. You never say no to a private fashion show." Kate thumbs a few pages back and cross-references that data with the one on the current page. Yelena is blatantly getting iced out. The blonde nods and sighs. "Well, at least I know you'll have to talk to me on Friday from four to four fifty."

Yelena references their standing bi-weekly couple's therapy appointment in jest, mostly trying to lighten the air between them. She loathes that Kate can hold a grudge like no one else.

"It's not a joke, dude. None of this has ever been a joke to me." Kate rebuffs her without looking up from the splayed-out folders.

"Are you implying it is to me?"

Yelena steps inside, closes the door behind her, approaches one of the two plush chairs across from Kate’s desk, and unceremoniously plops herself onto it.

"You treat it...us...very aloofly when you feel like it. Like things you can put on a shelf when it's inconvenient to have us around, so, yah. I guess I am."

"You always have the drama dialed up to twelve." Yelena states, her tone lighthearted. She's frankly pushing to minimize this, not maliciously, but because she needs it to go away. Yelena needs them to be okay again. She can only handle them being in a weird place for so long before it starts to drive her slightly mad, and this has already been going on for weeks now. Slowly escalating until it all blew up.

Kate huffs and shakes her head incredulously.

"Maybe people are right. Maybe we do marry versions of our parents because you're exactly like my mom."

W O O F. Kate could've called her wife a slur and it would've stung less than being compared to either of Kate's parents, particularly Eleanor.

"The hell is that supposed to mean?!"

"You're a genius. Figure it out."

"Why are you hellbent on making this worse? He forgave me. Why can't you?"

"Dude..." Kate swallows an aggravated, throaty groan. "Sometimes I can't figure out if you're actually this dumb outside your little lab or if you pretend to be so I let you get away with shit."

"You're angry. I get it. But don't insult me. I draw the line at disrespect. We can talk this through without going low or being childish."

A bitter laugh escapes Kate.

"You seriously have zero self-awareness. It's stunning to watch. You should have one of your coworkers observe you. 'Genius who's a fucking idiot in disguise: a study in how she gets through life.' could win you some awards. That's all you care about anyway."

"Yeah, we're going to do this in therapy because I'm not letting you goad me into saying something I don't mean."

"Whatever."

Yelena stands and attempts to walk away, but Kate's reply forces her right back down.

"Stop acting like a child, Katherine. I have three of those already. Don't need a fourth."

"You remembered you have kids?! AN EARLY CHRISTMAS MIRACLE."

Yelena rises again and manages to walk a few feet this time, but she eventually pivots and stomps back. Kate has successfully managed to push her buttons.

"I told you. I told you so many times that more than one was a bad idea. I'd be stretched thin. It's why my parents only had me. My mom knew this career is complicated. Time-consuming. But unlike you, my dad listened. He got it and they acted accordingly. Responsibly."

Halfway through her diatribe, Kate jumps in and begins talking over her wife.

"I'm sorry I can't be a perfect, obedient lap dog like your dad. I wanted a big family. You always knew that."

"AND YOU KNEW I DIDN'T! You knew it. We talked about it for years. You should've married someone who wanted the same things."

"You should've just said no if you weren't going to be around."

"Do you even remotely comprehend that it’s basically impossible to say 'no' to you?! Remember the cabin? I told you I didn't want kids and you threatened to leave me, Kate. You asked for a divorce, said you were done with me if we didn't."

"Don't rewrite history now. You said you weren't ready yet. YET. Not that you didn't want them at all."

"It was so clear. It was clear what I meant."

"Words have meanings. You can't change them retroactively. That is NOT what you said."

"Maybe not at that moment, but I told you I had doubts before that day. More than once. You heard what you wanted to hear."

"One is a mistake. Four is a pattern."

"You wouldn't stop asking! I wanted to make you happy. That's all I've ever wanted. Obviously Maks...after......Maks was my idea. I know that. I needed it after the...It felt wrong not to try again. And you were so upset. You tried to bury it, but I could see it. I always know. I knew it would make you happy to try again."

"They're not some consolation prize, dude. What is wrong with you?"

"I never said they were. Don't put words in my mouth."

"Can you leave? I have work to do."

"I love them. More than I think I could ever quantify."

"You're doing the bare minimum. Congratulations. Good for you."

"Stop being an asshole. I'm trying to have a conversation."

"I got shit to do."

Yelena doesn't move, mind racing. After a long beat, she speaks anew.

"Maybe it's my pride, maybe it is...but do you have any idea how hard it is to feel so incredibly subpar at the ONE THING you're desperate to be great at? I don't have to try at work. That's innate to me. It's easy. This...all of it...I feel like I'm treading water every day. There's not one day that I've gone to bed feeling I've done a good job with them. I think I can be a good partner, most of the time at least. I feel like I did it for a long time before we had them, so I can confidently say I'm no less than competent on that front, but I've never felt anything except terrible at being a mom. It's an awful thing to come to terms with every single night. I don't think there's been ONE night since Alex was born when I don't beat myself up over everything I did wrong or could've done better that day before I fall asleep. It's suffocating sometimes, Kate. I often feel like the weight of my own disappointment is smothering me. Add yours on top of that and…it’s not easy for me. None of it. You're a better mom than me. Always have been. They love you more too and I get it. I get it. It's understandable. If I were in their shoes, I would too."

"It's not a competition. Never has been."

"Sure. Doesn't mean this come naturally to only one of us and it certainly isn't me. Sometimes it feels like the best thing I can do for all of you is stay out of your way. You seem to do fine without me when I'm not around."

"We've kind of had to learn to lately. You checked out."

"I didn't."

"This is your dissertation all over again."

"If you felt that way, why wouldn't you say something? We promised we would never let it get that bad again. We said we wouldn't."

"I can't spell everything out for you."

"I also can't read your mind."

"Trust me. You don't need mentalist skills to put two and two together. You just don't care enough to pay attention."

"Why do you go out of your way to say things that hurt me when you're angry? You know I care. Of course I care."

"Why do YOU go out of your way to DO things that hurt ME?! ALL.THE.TIME! All the time, dude."

"I don't mean to."

"That would be an excuse for almost anyone else, but you've got a big ass brain, so...try again. Not good enough."

"I don't know how else to apologize for missing the play."

"This is so much bigger than the play! My god, it's impossible to talk to you."

"Try."

"Yelena, I have work. This is the third time I've asked you to leave my office."

"Work is more important than this?"

Kate's eyes shoot up from her computer screen to scowl directly at Yelena.

"Don't play that bullshit with me right now because that would be RICH coming from you."

"I'm only trying to talk."

Kate doesn’t offer an answer and refocuses on her work instead. 

Yelena is not deterred. She’s not leaving. 

They sit silently. Kate examines papers then types as anger oozes out of each pore. Yelena wordlessly follows her every move with her eyes. 

After around a dozen minutes of Kate trying to play it cool while her wife's gaze bores into her, she forcefully shuts her computer and glares at Yelena.

"My entire fucking childhood, I had to watch my parents pick other shit over us. I won't let you do it to them. I know what it did to me, what it did to Deej and I'm breaking that pattern. I also won't force them to watch us do this charade of pretending to be okay for their sake. Either we fix it...YOU fix it...or it's done."

"So what? You want me to quit my job? Become a stay-at-home mom?"

"No. I just need you to get your fucking priorities straight."

"So it's you, or it's done?"

"'Prioritize your family over work' is a pretty fucking basic ask, dude. Don't make me sound irrational because I'm not."

"Why do you always do this? Why do you always throw divorce around so flippantly the moment we have big issues come up?"

Kate stands from her chair.

"If you're not letting me work, I'm going to bed. I'm exhausted."

"If you truly want to break the pattern, then stop running away like your parents did..."

"Yelena." Kate speaks over her wife. Firmly. A blatant warning that she should stop going down that path.

"...They blow relationships up every time things get hard because it's easier to walk away than to work at it."

"Don't bring my parents into this."

"You already compared me to your parents. Twice."

"If you don't want that, quit acting like them. Simple. I'm going to sleep. In the guest room."

"You're the one who always walks away..."

"Yelena, I swear to fucking god...Stop talking."

"...and I'm the one always chasing."

"Must be nice living in an alternate fucking reality. For someone who claims they don't want a divorce, you sure love to do everything in your power to push me to it."

"You know what, Kate? Fine. You want to be away from me this badly? I'll go to a hotel tonight then stay with my parents starting tomorrow. You come find me when you're ready to stop acting like your father and are willing to have a conversation with me like the adults we're supposed to be."

"Do whatever the fuck you want. It's what happens anyway."

"Good."

"GREAT."

Kate storms out of the office, leaving Yelena behind. The blonde exhales explosively and allows her head to sag between her shoulders. 

That's not how tonight was supposed to go, but Yelena is too proud to back off from the threat now. She has to call Kate’s bluff at some point, or they will get stuck in this cycle forever. Now might be as good a time as any to see how far her wife is willing to take this.

...Seems like she has to go pack.

[bklynmusicnerd]

Shits on fire again in the Sprina fandom. I tell you just seeing Esme’s face in the previews just sets people off especially when we haven’t seen the chick in ages, we’ve had a Sprina drought and we know Spencer and Trina will be on Monday which probably means she’ll be involved somehow. I think fans patience level with this show is running low again. I say again because this same frustration was expressed when it took decades to get a kiss. Then once we got the kiss it took a minute for the second kiss, then another minute for them to be an official couple. Unsurprisingly they are taking their sweet time with the ILYs and love scenes for them. I’m telling you the most ill advised thing to have in watching this show is expectations 😬

There's a good chance that I just won't be able to answer the rest of these GH asks, and that's because where I think things are headed with this story are very dark and draining. But as someone who survived the Abbie Mills fiasco and was an Iris West Defense Squad member, I do feel like I owe it to those of you who are sticking around to give a little bit of a heads up.

This week's episodes were basically the beginning of a sharp pivot in the story. Trina and Spencer acting either ott or ooc, put into contrived positions that they would never organically be in. And as important as it is to love both sides of your pairing, I need people to really focus in on the positioning of Trina in what is supposed to be her love story. She is being pushed to the side, her connection with and understanding of Spencer is being undermined.

They are trying to lay the groundwork for her to be contrasted with the girl who drugged her. Once again positioned as a romantic rival with Esme, except the optics are more offensive this time because this is now a girl that has fucked Spencer's father raw (with the lasting evidence in the form of an unnecessary baby), revenge porn'ed his friends and drugged and framed Trina. You will never see Dex confiding in another girl besides Joss with his shirt off. This is treatment being exclusively reserved for Trina.

And it becomes a question of, is the rest of the story of Trina and Spencer going to be one where she is degraded, put in positions of being humiliated, established as the perpetual loser? Because if that's the case then what you are dealing with is an Abbie Mills situation. Where tptb both exploit the hype for a black female lead in the center of a narrative and then chip away at her power bit by bit until she is literally shoved in the corner, or in Abbie's case, killed off.

And if that's where things are headed with Trina, which I sadly think is the case. If they have made a calculus that the Esme agenda is more important than anything else, then the fans that intend to stick around are probably going to have to mobilize. Be it some form of "Trina Robinson Deserves Better" or a Trina Robinson Defense Squad.

The same energy that was put into endless free promotion for that show in the name of Sprina, will need to be used to call those in power out (Valentini, Chris & Dan, Korte) for the bait and switch game they are playing. It is actually bigger than Sprina, this is about what they intend to do with Trina, the black heroine that they have been using for positive mainstream promotion for a year. Cause right now the writing is hinting at a weird resentment for the character and her popularity. And when it comes to black female characters, popularity is never the shield people think it is:

I am linking this article again to put in the main tag because I think it is very relevant to the situation that is occurring on GH right now. And in a lot of ways the GH situation is worse because NAC as TA's co-lead has been unwavering in his support of the Trina/Spencer story, he constantly reiterates how central Spencer's love of Trina is to his interpretation of the character.

So if that's still not enough, if there is still a backstage agenda to undermine this popular story? Then, if you are still invested in this, it might be time for not-so-friendly mobilization, with plainspoken language about what's being portrayed on screen (misogynoir, racist optics, white woman victimhood above all).

I'm not saying it will lead to a guaranteed course correct, you can't force them to tell a story they don't want to tell. But at the very least, you can make sure they don't feel overly comfortable doing TA dirty for the rest of her contract.

[leviraaaaaa]

Letting go (Eren x female reader)

(I'm afraid it's a little cliche, it seemed much better in my head. Or maybe I just suck at writing. Oh well. I'm not really into Eren that much, but here's a random something.)

Eren's room was empty.

I knew so, I wasn't expecting anything else.

And yet, my heart hurt.

Eren escaped his cell today. Nobody knows where he is now, except the supposed yeagerists. The moment I heard the news, I bolted out of the room, all the way to the residential quarters and now here I am. 

I knew all too well he wouldn't be here but doesn't mean it hurts any less.

I know I shouldn't have left. It was an important meeting. I don't know why I did it. All I knew was that it was too much.

Talking about holding a search party to round up Eren like he's some low life criminal?

All too much

 I knew I had to get away from that suffocating room and so I did. Without thinking, without even processing, I found myself here. 

My safe space.

I stepped inside the dim, lifeless room. It was clear no one has been in here for months. The desk was dusty, the ceilings with webs. The bed was untouched, the sheets smooth, showing no signs that anyone has laid here recently. The only sound was my soft breathing and the tics of the clock hung on the wall, almost echoing in the silence. The sunlight barely came through the heavy curtains along the window, causing an odd contrast with the darkness of the room.

It felt omnious. Unfamiliar. Like I shouldn't be here. 

It's not like I have never been here. Because I have. Way more than anyone else probably ever had. We'd spent many hours together, in this very room. Sometimes as friends, sometimes as more than friends.

The room wasn't so unfriendly then. 

There were nights when I couldn't sleep. Those were the nights I'd always find myself back here, in front of this door. 

I'd never even had to make a sound, he always seemed to somehow sense I was there. Before I even raised my hand to knock, I'd find it open, with him standing before me. He'd step aside, silently gesturing me to come in.

("How did you even know I was here?" I'd ask.

"You're too damn loud" he'd grunt.)

I knew. He couldn't sleep either. The same memories that kept me awake at night, kept him up as well. So, I always ended up here, to the one person who'd always understand.

Some nights, I'd fall against his shoulders and cry my heart out, desperately clinging to him like I'm drowning and he's my anchor, the only thing that's keeping me afloat. He'd hold me against him, smoothing my hair, his chin resting on top of my head, just letting me fall apart. "I got you," he'd whisper sometimes, repeating it over and over until I calmed down. Because I knew. I knew he's got me. No matter what.

Some nights, we'd just lay together silently, without saying a word. Eyes locked, legs tangled, fingers entertwined. Finding peace in each other's soft inhales and exhales, until we fell asleep.

Some nights, we'd lean against the wall on his bed, soft whispers and hushed laughers filling the room. Sharing secrets and silly little gossips. We'd be so sleep-deprived and tired, to the point out head would be fuzzy and we'd just laugh about anything and everything.

( "Captain Levi should really check out his gut health, bro always looks constipated."

"Shut the fuck up," he'd let out a snort. "You should go and tell him that. You'll be the one getting constipation then.)

Some nights, we'd be a little bolder. One of us would lean their face too close and the other would reach in. Soft, light kisses until it turns to barely audible moans and breathy gasps, along with the creaks of the bed.

In the morning, we'd wake up and pretend like nothing happened. We'd go to the mess hall to eat breakfast separately, greeting each other good mornings. Sitting with our friends and having friendly little squabbles and leg-pulling.

No one knew about us.

I don't know why we hid it, but we just did.

It felt better this way.

Our little secret.

Until, it all went wrong.

I realized it. More before than anyone

I knew him too damn well to not notice the empty eyes and the tired smiles. How he started isolating himself, always stuck in his own head. Barely ever talking to anyone.

Barely ever talking to me.

I still spent nights in his room, because the loneliness sometimes got too much. Except it wasn't the same anymore. He'd let me lay beside him, but never faced me. 

He wouldn't even look me in the eye.

And in the morning, he'd be gone. I'd wake up in a cold and empty bed. I'd barely ever see him on the breakfast table either. He'd eat silently and be the first to leave.

All the signs. And I chose to ignore it all.

Never even bothering to ask him if he was okay.

When he first disappeared, I was scared out of my mind. The others had to quite literally drag me out of Marley, because I refused to leave without him.

And then the letters started coming. Each leaving me more confused than the other. 

Burning questions were on my mind.

Where were you?

What were you planning to do?

Until we received the final letter and that's when I realized, I couldn't keep lying to myself.

Not after this.

As I watched him destroy the city, killing hundreds of people, my heart tore.

Innocent people.

Children even.

Children like we were when Wall Maria fell.

I looked at his empty expression and realized.

He wasn't Eren anymore.

He was someone else.

Someone I didn't know.

So much has happened since then. So much pain in me, but I didn't have anyone to fall apart to me anymore.

It made me wonder if you needed someone to fall apart to.

It broke my heart that I couldn't be that person to you.

Now here I was, back here again, looking for a sanctuary. Somewhere to hide from the cruel reality outside the door. The room seemed to be glaring at me, threatening me to get out. It took me every bit of effort I had to plant my feet to the ground because all I wanted to do was turn around and run away. Because where do I go from here?

Where are you, Eren?

"I thought you might be in here."

My eyes widened.

I know that voice.

I swallowed as I turned around and saw the last face I had thought I'd see today.

"Eren."

My voice cracked. 

He was there. Standing on the doorstep.

His emerald green eyes glinting in the sunlight. He half-turned, closing the door, not before I saw the two soldiers guarding outside.

There was only us in the room now, face to face. I gazed at him, frozen in place, scared to even move. 

He didn't feel real.

Like he'd disappear if I even blinked.

I took him in, every bit of him. My eyes wide, my mind sending me warning signs, my heart wanting nothing more than just to touch him, just to confirm that he was actually here in front of me.

I haven't seen you for so long, Eren.

He was leaning against the door, hands in his pocket, his expression empty of any emotions. He had his hair up, but I could tell his hair got longer. A few stray strands were on his face, reaching his eyes.

His eyes.

Dark shadows clung under them, sunk deep in his face. The beautiful green flashed through his lashes. 

He looked tired.

So tired.

Why do you look so tired, Eren? 

I could only stare, my brain lost all capability of thinking rationally. I wondered if it'd be okay if I took a step forward. I wondered if he'd mind if I touched his face and ran my hands through his soft dark hair and pulled him down and kissed him. I wondered if I was dreaming.

My knees were weak, my head dizzy. I took a step backwards, trying to stabilize myself.

"Eren" 

I repeated his name, my voice barely audible. The sound felt unfamiliar as it echoed in the silence.

He gave no sign that he heard me. Just stared, unblinking.

What happened to you, Eren?

"Where have you been, Eren?" I whispered. My lips were chapped and my throat dry. My heart banged on my chest desperately, trying to find an escape from this small, suffocating room. My lungs screaming at me to take in some air cause I can't remember how long I've been holding my breath for.

Why are you looking at me like that, Eren? 

I took a sharp breath, my lungs contracting. The clock ticked off somewhere in the room, I can't really remember. It was vibrating through my blood, syncing with my heartbeat. I wanted to scream now.

 Stop looking at me like that, Eren. 

"Why are you here, Eren?" I asked him.

No response.

I wondered if the figure before me was just a figment of my imagination. 

I needed answers.

He wasn't giving them to me.

I was going to lose my mind.

Why won't you speak, Eren?

"Speak, Eren," I begged him, "Please."

Give me answers, God damnit.

"Speak!" I finally yelled out, losing my patience. The words rang across the silent room. I felt the heat pricking behind my eyes.

"Explain this to me. Talk to me. Tell me what the fuck has been going on!" 

Give me a reason. 

Give me anything.

Don't just stare at me like that.

Not a hint of emotions in those eyes. I wondered if this was his idea of tormenting me.

"I missed you," I whispered, my lips barely moving. The room seemed to be choking me now.  Squeezing my eyes shut, I tried to get the tears back to where they came from. It hurt.

As his eyes met with mine once more, I realized with a tug of my heartstrings. 

There's no point talking to him.

He isn't Eren.

Not anymore.

Eren's eyes were never this empty.

Where's the spark in your eyes, Eren?

My chest heaved with unexplainable emotions, but my mind settled down. I was tired. I can't keep screaming at him anymore. It hurt too much.

I can't make him talk, not if he doesn't want to talk to me.

"What are you going to do, Eren?" I asked, tiredly. I wasn't even expecting an answer anymore at this point. I just don't know what else to do. I didn't have the energy to yell at him and as much as I wanted to smack him in the face, I didn't even have the energy to do that either.

He took a step towards me finally, walking towards me. Closer. Come closer. I wanted to beg him. I need to know you're real. He came closer, he was inches away now.

What do you want from me, Eren?

A hand touched the side of my face, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear.

Eren's hands, I realized. Rough, calloused hands.

I teared up.

Why?

What was wrong with him?

Why was I scared?

This isn't Eren. It can't be. 

I couldn't possibly ever be scared of Eren.

His other hand reached to cup the other side of my face, pulling my chin up.

His green eyes seemed to be burning mine.

"Talk to me, Eren," I said, broken words barely coming out of my lips. I reached my hand up, tracing my thumb along his jaw, moving the hair from his eyes. His expression tightened.

The first reaction I got out of him.

  I leaned in to him, his breath now caressing my face. 

"Talk to me,"

A small gasp escaped his lips,  his eyes widening. Cupping the back of my head with both of his hands, he pulled me up to him, closing the gap as he kissed me.

Just there.

Lips barely touching.

My heart may have stopped.

Are you real, Eren?

I grabbed his hair, pulling him closer to me, inhaling him in me, deepening the kiss. My lips telling him all that I was too scared to say out loud. 

Stay.

Stay with me.

Don't fade away.

I felt his small intakes of breath against my lips, as one of his hands slid down my back, the other wrapping around my shoulders. Slowly, almost cradling me, he lowered me onto the bed beneathe him until I was fully on my back. He was on top of me, hands and knees caging me in. Raising my head, I pulled on his neck, trying to pull his head down. To close the space. To feel his lips on mine again. To take him in.

Stay with me.

In this room.

Forever.

The world could go to hell.

My brain was empty. I couldn't think straight. A part of me was listing all the reasons why i shouldn't be under him right now. That part of me was drowned out by the part of me who wanted nothing but to taste him again.

I shouldn't be doing this.

But I want to.

His hands ran up my arms, pulling them up and pinning them up on the headboard. And he was kissing me again, his free hand grabbing my jaw firmly as his lips moved, just in perfect sync with my own.

But this was wrong. 

Something was wrong.

He felt wrong.

Everything was wrong.

The cold of something metal grazed my wrist.

Realization hit me. My eyes flew open and I pulled my face away. Yanking down my hands, trying to escape his grasp.

Too late.

It was too late.

The metal chains clinked as I looked up to see both my hands handcuffed and chained to the headboard.

When did he even pull them out? I thought as my mind panicked, struggling to free my hands. I felt a sharp pain through my wrist as the metal loop dug into my skin.

"I'd stay still if I were you," he finally spoke , his lips barely moving. "you might get hurt." 

I whipped my head to look down, he was staring at me with the same expressionless face. Angry tears rolled down my cheek.

This is what he came here for?

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I yelled under my breath. "What the fuck, Eren? What the hell is this supposed to mean?"

He sighed. Leaning in closer, resting his forehead on mine, eyes closed. His nose touching mine. His hands barely skimming down my sides.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I had to come see you. One last time." 

My heart pounded against my chest erratically.

What do you mean, Eren?

"I need you to stay here," he said quietly, "I need you to stay alive."

He opened his eyes, his lashes almost touching mine.

"Once I step out of this room, it's gonna be pure chaos. They'll be too busy trying to deal with me, no one would realize you're missing. And even if they do," he paused. "Who would think to search here?" 

No.

He was going to keep me chained here while he went off and did something terrible.

"What are you going to do, Eren?" I said, fear replacing the anger in my voice now.

His lashes fluttered.

"I'm going to cause the rumbling," His tired eyes. Empty.  "I will ruin the world."

A silence settled. My eyes wide with disbelief as they met his heavy half-lidded ones.

He's serious.

My heart panged.

No.

The air in the room disappears as I struggle to breathe. I couldn't believe what I just heard.

No.

"No," I said, shaking my head.

I looked down.

Shaking my head.

"No, you wouldn't," I repeated again, blankly.

I'm sleep-deprived and I'm imagining things.

"I have to protect the island. If I don't kill them, they're going to kill us,"

I shook my head again.

Please shut up, Eren.

Maybe if I pretended I didn't hear his words just now, it'd all go away.

I closed my eyes, shaking my head again.

He dragged his thumb over my lips, shushing me from repeating the words again.

"I don't have enough time," his voice strained. Finally showing emotions. His eyes wide with urgency. "Listen to me."

"No," I shook my head, getting angry now. Yet again, struggling fruitlessly against the restraints. "No, let me go Eren." I hissed as my wrists stinged. "Let me go damn it, I'm begging you."

"I can't" he breathed. "You're going to get in my way otherwise,"

I tilted my head, my eyes narrowing. "Yeah, no shit" I snarled. "What? Did you think I was just going to clap my hands and cheer on you, 'Jeez Eren, good job, let's burn the world together'? I won't let you do this!"

"I know. That's why you're tied up right now."

Rage rushed through my blood.

"What the hell are you thinking, Eren? Have you lost your damn mind?" I gaped at him. " What, is this your idea of peace? You can't fight fire with fire, that's not how it works! Killing everyone wouldn't solve shit. Can you just stop and calm down and think about what the hell you're doing? What you've been doing these past months? What you have done already?"  I yelled, my face heating up. I wanted to cry because of how helpless I felt. I was falling apart now, on the edge of losing the little sanity I had left in me.

He stayed silent.

"Why?" My voice cracked. "Tell me why. You have to tell me why. You need to tell me why you're doing this. Why is this the only way? Why can't you just shut up and think this out through for one damn second?" 

Talk to me, Eren. Tell me what's wrong. I can help you.

"You will be killing eldians too! Children who doesn't know shit about the world! How can you possibly think this is justified?" I cried out, his figure blurring because of the tears in my eyes.

He won't give me an answer.

Why won't you answer me, Eren?

"Tying me down is your solution? You think the others wouldn't fight back? You think they wouldn't try and stop you from commiting fucking genocide?"

"I know," His voice was so cold. "I know. All of you are a bunch of insane, righteous, stubborn fucks."

He paused. 

"They'll try to stop me," he closed his eyes and ran his hand through his hair, his face twisted.

"And they'll probably die in the damn process."

I felt a shiver down my spine.

"What?"

"This has to be the way it goes. But I can't risk you. You have to be alive, no matter what,"

I couldn't believe his words.

"So it's okay if Mikasa and Armin die?" 

 I didn't understand. I didn't understand shit.

I don't understand what your saying Eren.

"No," he shook his head. "No. But they're my gamble. I need them for this. They're strong and skilled, they might survive. But you? I can't gamble you, I can't risk you. I can't have your blood on my hands too."

You aren't making any sense, Eren.

He slowly moved himself, standing up from the bed.

I was having a full-blown panic attack now. The chains were the only thing holding me back from dragging him back.

"Eren, Listen to me! We can still talk about this, figure out another way! It doesn't have to be like this! At this point, all of you are going to die!" I was desperate. I can't let him leave. I can't have this on my consciousness.

Don't do this Eren. 

Won't you listen to me?

He pinched his brows together. Slowly shaking his head, he responded, "There's no other way," he looked to me.

"Hate me, I don't care. As long as you're fucking breathing and unharmed, hate me all you want."

He said as he walked away, looking away. Leaving me there.

He took a step towards the door.

Closer.

Closer.

I lost this battle, I realized. I can't stop him.

He was reaching for the doorknob now.

Don't go, Eren.

He's going to leave.

Stay with me.

I don't have the power to stop him. He won't listen to me.

He's going to go out and unleash chaos.

And I'm going to be stuck here, helpless.

Will I ever see you again, Eren?

I opened my mouth, tears rolling down my cheek. This is my last chance.

"I love you,"

A broken sob racked my chest almost drowning out the words. "I'm sorry I never got to tell you. But I need you to know this, before you go."

My eyes locked onto his, as he froze. His lips parted.

There was a spark in his eyes.

What a beautiful shade of green.

Don't go Eren.

This wasn't how it was supposed to end.

Don't go.

He opened the door and stepped outside, leaving me alone in the room. I heard a click as the door locked.

"I'm sorry," I whispered.

"I can't save you."

I gasped for air as I broke down. Mikasa and Armin's face flashing through my mind. Jean, Connie, all of them.

I remembered holding Sasha's limp body to my chest as she bled out on me. I remembered the thousand other comrades and friends I had to bury. I remembered Shiganshina.

Are you all going to die today?

I remembered 11 year old Eren telling me he was going to kill all the titans.

No.

We went through so much, survived through so much. All for us to end this way.

Am I going to lose all of you?

I can't save you, Eren.

I can't save you.

[daintyduck99]

 maybe their whole dynamic is built around jokingly flirting, so they just always assume that their flirts/compliments are all platonic and regal butterfly?

Heads up: this got VERY sensual

Julie's going to dissolve on the dance floor.

She never should've agreed to go clubbing, but you can only bow out so many times before it starts to look suspicious. Especially when your entire friend group likes to go almost every other weekend for one reason or another.

Now she's sandwiched between Reggie and Flynn and she can't tell if it's the bass pounding in her body or just raw desire.

It's mesmerizing, how they move in sync, with Reggie molded to her back and Flynn her front. Reggie's broad hands clutch Julie hips through the lattice siding of her dress, hot on her skin. His lips are dangerously close to her ear, and every short burst of his breath makes her shiver.

He's definitely hard and if Julie thinks about that too much she will combust.

Flynn isn't helping. Her palms are splayed on Julie's ribs, so so close to where Julie wants them as their bodies rock together. She looks striking in the neon lights, eyes popping against her glittery makeup as she flashes Julie a sultry smile. Their noses touch, and her breath is warm on Julie's lips. They're practically panting into one another’s mouths and it's only by some miracle that Julie hasn't moaned.

She really shouldn't have let them flirt their way into this situation, but Julie'd had a feeling that she'd succumb to something like this the second she'd agreed to come to the club. They're already incredibly flirty, and there's something about the scene.

Still, she never expected them to be this forward with her, and she should've worn different panties, apparently.

Reminding herself that it's simply supposed to be fun doesn't help. She's liked them way too much for too long and if she doesn't leave now she's going to do something stupid, like beg for a kiss or for someone to keep her or even just fuck her.

Julie squirms, but that only encourages them, and her eyes flutter shut as Reggie’s lips graze the spot behind her ear.

"Please…"

"Please what, babe?" Flynn says silkily, nuzzling their noses together, and Julie exhales shakily as something in her snaps.

"Don't…"

They release her, and even through the blur of unshed tears, she can tell they both have concern carved into their features.

"Should we go outside?" Reggie murmurs, so low it's nearly lost to the music.

Flynn nods, gently taking Julie's hand.

"Come on, Jules. It'll be easier to talk."

Julie numbly follows Reggie, feeling abruptly off-balance in her heels without both of them holding her, but Flynn keeps her from toppling over as they make their way through the throng of people and slip out the door.

They settle on top of a low concrete wall, pressed shoulder to shoulder with Julie still in the middle, but the breeze makes Julie shiver, regardless. Reggie and Flynn both shrug out of their jackets, with Reggie draping his across Julie's shoulders and Flynn laying hers in Julie's lap.

Julie sighs through a wan smile. "Thanks."

"Of course," Reggie replies earnestly, and she hears a warmer smile than hers in his voice as she snuggles into their jackets. "We can't have our girl getting cold."

She fights a fresh wave of tears.

"Am I, though? Your girl?"

Flynn covers Julie's hands with hers.

"Do you want to be? Because if you do, we'd take you in a heartbeat, babe."

Reggie hums in agreement, wiping a stray tear from Julie's cheek with his thumb.

"We've been trying to seduce you for ages. And kind of seduced each other along the way? But yeah. We really like you, Julie."

Julie swivels to fully gape at them both.

"Wh—but you've always flirted with me! You're both very flirty people! How was I supposed to know that it meant anything?"

"Flirting with intent is definitely different—" Reggie starts, and Flynn nods, jumping in.

"We don't dance with just anyone like that. We want you."

Julie huffs, furiously scrubbing the remainder of her tears away.

"You'll have to tell me exactly how. In great detail. Then I might forgive you for driving me crazy without ever directly saying anything!"

Reggie and Flynn exchange devilish grins.

"We can do that," they say, voices heavy with promise and more.

And Julie has to admit it's the perfect apology as she dissolves between them on a nice set of sheets.

[hopefullyababe]

.

[outerbankspov]

Bail me out. (Rafe Cameron)

Summary: underage party gets crashed by the police resulting in the reader being arrested by the cops and the “bad boy” bailing her out for no reason he would admit. (Past history)

Warning: underage drinking. Kissing. Tap of fluff.

- requested & plot (my sister)

The party was a full blast, I’m saying bodies to bodies and the smell of liquor lingering through the air. Everything was perfect and everyone was enjoying their selfs until the cops… I was sitting down with my legs crossed while drinking this awful liquor that JJ decided to bring to the party. That’s when the police came in and everyone ran.

“Who’s responsible for this underage party” the sheriff spoke who happened to be ward Cameron. God he’s annoying and so is his son, he walks around like he owns figure 8 and he clearly hates me. (Secretly I like him-)

Everyone pointed to me, I was in shocked- what the fuck I didn’t even start this party, it was that bitch Lesley who has the biggest crush on Rafe.

“Alright come on let’s go” he grabs me and cuffs me. “Are you serious? This wasn’t me!”

“Tell that to your parents”

_____

An hour of laying in this cold cell expecting my parents to get me they don’t. “Y/L/N your free to go.” An officer tells you. You lay up and pulls your top down and walk out. Thinking to see your parents no- it’s Rafe Cameron??? Why is he picking me up.

“Thank you chad I’ll take it from here. Don’t tell my father” he slips the officer a 100 and I role my eyes at how he just throws money away. Walking to his car was pure silence until we sat in his car. “Why’d you do it?” I break the silence.

“What?” He looks at me and I’ve always noticed how sharp his jawline was or how gorgeous he was but this time he seems so much more handsome. I role my eyes and slouch down on the seat.

“You could’ve let me rot in that cell until my parents decided that they should do good for public and bail their straight A student daughter out of jail.”

“I just wanted to bail you out, I know you didn’t start that party.” His voice was gentle and he looks at me with care in his eyes.

“Am I supposed to thank you?” You laugh.

“Y/n stop being a stubborn bitch please. You should thank me.”

“Okay. Thank you Rafe was saying poor helpless Y/N from jail. Oh that makes up for crushing on you all through high school. Happy?” You run your hands through your hair and realize your brain disconnect from your voice in that moment.

“Y/n/n? You had a crush on me” he gives you a cocky smile and you bite your lip and looks away.

“Yeah so what?” Rafe watches you and smirks.

“Now tell me why’d you bail me out. Your the so call bad boy so why bail me out? Has to be a reason”

“It’s what friends are for.” He shrugs his shoulders and you didn’t believe it not one bit.

“I thought you hated me.” Voice was low and soft. Almost confused.

“How can I ever hate you y/n” you’ve never turned your head so fast before.

“What?” You say softly.

“I like you a lot okay. Happy?” You smile at him and tells him to stop the car and he does on the side of the Road.

“You like me.” You smirk.

“I do now get over here.” He leans over and grabs your face and softly kisses you lot a man’s starve.

“God y/n I’ve liked you since high school.” He gently kisses your bottom lip and pulls away. You look at him and smile thanking the dark nights because if it was light he would see the deep red blush on your heated face. “Now can I take you home ?” You nod and grabs his hand. “Take me to yours” he looks at her in silence and nods with a smirk. “Will do.”

••••••

[chilumi-shipper]

When Mommy's Resting

Diluc x Fem!Reader

Warning: Smut, NSFW, Mommy Kink, Consensual Somnophilia, Sub Diluc, Dom Mommy Reader, Overstimulation, Oral Sex (Reader Receiving)

Summary: To most people, Diluc was a man of mystery, a strong, rich and handsome business man who seems to always be stoic, but within the space of your own home, he is just sensitive baby who likes getting you to ride his dick. He was obedient, until of course he was put under the influence of the Cavalry Captain.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

Diluc was done for the night, he sighed, it was a long day bartending at the tavern, he can't wait to just go home to you and cuddle up to mommy.

As he was cleaning up, he thought if you were still awake at this hour. 'Probably not, she did tell me that she has a lot of things to do with Cyrus and the others in the Adventurer's Guild, she must be tired.'

As he was wiping down the counter, he heard the door of the tavern open and close, and an unwanted guest stood right in front of him. The Cavalry Captain, Kaeya, who seems to wear a smirk quite different from his usual grin.

"Diluc, good you're still here." The blue haired man walked up to him, arms crossed with mischief painted on his feature.

"We're closed, better get going, Sir Kaeya." Diluc said with a rather tensed and irritated voice. But that only seemed to amuse the knight.

"Ohh, I see." The blue haired man still sat on a stool in front of his brother though. "Eager to see your Mommy back at the Dawn Winery?" Diluc froze up, looking at the former with a shocked expression that seemed to irk him even more.

"I d-don't know what you're talking about." Diluc stuttered, turning away from his brother and pretended to clean up the other parts of the counter.

The Cavalry Captain chuckled, "She told me." 'No, she wouldn't, my Y/N would never.' "Told me about what goes around you guys, pretty interesting. It makes me quite jealous, my flings aren't usually comfortable with that kind of relationship." He continued and Diluc's clenched his hand in frustration. You did tell him! And now that one eyed punk is gonna try to gt you from him.

He looked back at the smirking man and glared. "Don't get any ideas, bastard." He'll never let anyone steal you from him.

"Relax, brother. Although I am quite interested in that kind of relationship, I'm quite sure she doesn't like anyone but you." Kaeya laughed, "However, she did tell me another thing. You're a bit too obedient aren't you?" Diluc felt uncomfortable, sure when you tell him that he's a good boy, kiss his forehead and pat his head while you ride him, he feels so good about himself, other people telling him just makes him uneasy.

"This is between me and her, it's non of your business, Kaeya." He said in a serious tone. "I'd rather not talk about this." Diluc straightened up, finished up cleaning and walked away from his brother.

As he was about to leave though, the knight stopped him. "Don't you want to contribute more on that relationship, she seems to be the only one putting in actual effort." Kaeya stated to him. He smiled when Diluc stopped and sighed.

"Alright, what do you have in mind?"

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

He can't believe it, why is he doing this?

Did you think he was boring? Maybe you complained to Kaeya about him and his brother is just giving him a boost.

Yeah, maybe that's it.

Well, anyway, as he watched your sleeping figure, Diluc smiled a bit, you look so beautiful, like an angel, and now he's supposed to take you this way.

Being honest to himself, he is so excited! You two have always been so comfortable around each other, to the pint where he basically knows that you won't mind what he's doing right now, taking of your garments that didn't even cover much in the first place.

He loves seeing your naked body, you perfect boobs that he loves to suck on when you shove his face onto your chest, your skin with a few stretch marks that only he's been able to see, your plump thighs that you squeeze around his head whenever you order him to eat you out, and then, your pretty little cunt, just made for him and his cock, the juices you make are like a sweet tasty treat just for him.

Diluc can't wait to taste it again.

Gently spreading you're legs apart, he was met by your slightly wet pussy, he can practically feel his mouth watering with hunger for you. Diluc tested the waters buy liking your clit with the tip of his tongue, you didn't move. He felt his heartbeat increasing by the second. He was still afraid to wake you up, deep down, he wants to keep his title as your good boy despite him defiling you right now.

'Fuck it.' And he just shoves his face between your legs, lapping your juices and sucking on your clit. He can hear you let out a few whimpers, Diluc's never heard that before! Usually you're the one that always makes him moan and scream, this time he can actually hear you make lewd sounds! And boy does he love it, the noises you make irks him on even more.

He sucked even harder on your clit and that's when you let out a moan that just straight up went to his cock.

"D-Diluc?" He looked up and there you were, with tired eyes that looked so so cute. But he didn't stop sucking though and you kept moaning. "Ughh, baby.... Mhhhm, baby, what are you- Ohhh!" His tongue grazed your hole, which made you jump. And now you're holding his head and shoving it down even more, as you grind your cunt on his face. "Ohhh, that feels so good, Luc." You moaned out.

Diluc loves it, the way you just grind on him mouth, loves how much juices your giving him. He just really loves you.

And you came hard on his mouth, which he of course as a good boy, swallowed.

Your head fell back onto the bed. Tired from your post orgasm. You felt your Diluc suck a few more times to clean up your cunt before slipping beside you.

You rised up and open your arms for him, and he gladly welcomed himself into your warmth, laying his head between your boobies.

"What was that for, love?" You asked him. He felt his heart clench. Did you not like it? And now he's gonna lose his good boy privileges.

"You didn't feel good, Mommy?" He asked with a broken tone, looking up at you to see that you're already staring at him.

"Of course I did, silly!" You laughed a little, "I think I was just surprised, my baby boy, doing something so naughty." You booped his nose as he smiled a little.

When you told Kaeya about Diluc and your kinks and stuff, you knew he was gonna go to Diluc to embarrass and probably suggest something to him. But you never expected Kaeya to tell Diluc to eat you out in your sleep!

You did purposely do that so Diluc would have motivation for a little spice. And you got it, and boy did it feel amazing.

"But was I good?"

"You always are, baby."

With that, he nuzzled his face at your chest lovingly.

"But..."

His ears perked up. "It's not fair that Mommy's the only one to cum right?" You asked teasingly.

And then he felt it, the painfully hard cock still confined within his pants. You start to rub it with your leg.

You are gonna give him a lot tonight.

~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~•~

"Ahhh... Mommy, please.... ughh." You stroked his messy red hair as you savagely went up and down on his cock, squeezing it so good with your delicious pussy walls.

And he let out a low grunt as he came once again, he's so tired from cumming so many times inside you already. But just looking at your face and down to where you two connect makes him hard all over again. It just feels too good to stop.

"That's right." You roll your hips around before slamming back down to take all of him. "Moan for me, baby. Tell Mommy what you want." You grabbed his hands and guide them to cup and fondle your boobs as you ride him.

He came so many times that there's only a little bit coming out when he hits his peak.

"P-please, make me cum inside you again." He said while holding back a few moans.

He lets out a growl after he came out for the last time and you felt his seed pour into your cunt that's already full of his cum.

Getting up from his dick, his and your cum starts to drip down your thighs.

You sat down between his legs and spread you thighs to show him your pussy stuffed full of your shared cum. "Oh, baby. Look at that, you came so much, huh?" You giggled as it dripped out of you.

"M-Mommy, please keep it inside." He whispered in a low voice, making you smile even more. Exhaustion was shown all over his features. You knew that he did feel better if you keep all his cum inside you every time you make him cum so many times.

You giggled again, "Alright, baby. Go to sleep, maybe we'll do this again tomorrow morning." He nodded before closing his eyes.

But before you can even lay next to him, his eyes opened up immediately.

"Why did you tell Kaeya?"

Oh, right. Hehe.

[sinfulcries]

hi sir! i really enjoy your works so could i request atsumu's senpai catching him jacking off while moaning reader's name in the locker room and reader takes his virginity on the spot?

maneater — atsumu x male reader

author's notes. UHM I AM SO SORRY THIS IS REALLY LONG I GOT REALLY INTO IT HAHAHA. this was also beta read by my lodicakes @bunbyy <3 thank you so much NJKNDKJA

tw. senpai kink, public sex, exhibitionism, mating press, caught masturbation, university au, virginity loss, peer pressure, belly bulge, size difference, unprotected sex, barebacking, facefucking, facial, sleazy senpai reader

Miya Atsumu, by all means, was never interested in dating or the concept of love and crushes and infatuation. All of those seemed vaguely unfamiliar to the boy who only had volleyball on his victory-hungry mind. When it came to a certain male on his team however, he would instantly lose his composure. His knees would feel like jelly whenever their fingers would brush against each others accidentally and his face would heat up like wildfire when the flirty, tall senior would attempt to flirt with him.

A crush, Miya supposed. These feelings would go away sooner or later but Osamu and his teammates who clearly caught onto Atsumu’s strange behavior, begged to differ.

More often than intended, you two would have the thickest and most uncomfortable sexual tension. And one of those instances was right now.

After one of your practice matches, you had peeled your shirt off to reveal your seemingly perfect body. Atsumu revelled in the way your skin glistened under the sheer layer of sweat coating your big arms and your toned abdomen, or the way the fabric of your shorts hung low and exposed more than what meets the eye, leaving Atsumu to imagine the rest of what laid beneath. The blonde made sure to take his sweet time memorizing every crevice of your toned stomach, failing to notice the teasing smirk plastered on your face.

Interrupting the male’s not so discreet sightseeing, you chuckled. “Enjoying the view, Tsumu?” You teased, making the said male blush embarrassedly. “N-No! Shut yer trap, Senpai!” He sneered only to receive a grin from you in reply. “You know, You’re really cute when you’re flustered, dollface.”

God, the things you did to him were dangerous and the cute pet name went straight to his cock, making it noticeably twitch against his thigh. The shorter man merely ignored your statement with a blush on his face, giving you an embarrassed wave before walking towards the locker room, “I'm gonna take a shower.”

By showering, Atsumu meant releasing his sexual frustration by jacking off to the thought of you fucking him. The wing spiker shut his eyes in pleasure as he flicked his wrist around his length shamelessly, lips parted ever so slightly as he moaned your name.

The thought of you manhandling him, having him pressed up against your chest as you fucked him raw made Atsumu shut his eyes tightly. His pace only increased as he fisted his cock much faster, imagining that it was your bigger hand instead. This was definitely more than a crush-- Miya just came to the thought of his teammate for fuck’s sake! Thank God you weren’t there to witness the sinful and humiliating act that he had just committed.

By the time he came, shooting thick ribbons of white cum onto the tile walls, he rinsed the rest of his body clean before reaching out of the stall to grab his towel. Before he could even grasp the cloth, another person snatched it before he could, making him groan frustratedly.

“‘Samu, I swear if this is you, I’ll cut yer ba—”

When Atsumu opened the shower curtain however, the culprit was not his twin brother but instead, you stood in front of him with an amused look on your face. Your teasing expression only making the shorter man gulp nervously.

Avoiding your coy gaze, you taunted, “You’re a bad boy, Atsumu.” while moving to pin the blonde against the tile walls. Atsumu let out a soft squeak, feeling your calloused fingertips rubbing teasingly against the rim of his ass.

“Touching yourself to the thought of me.” You growled, leaning in to lap at the expanse of his neck, your teeth slowly dragging against his skin leaving bite marks on the clean flesh.

The blonde let out a breathy moan, as he tried to explain himself, however his mind was clouded with nothing but lust and disbelief. “I’ll give you the real thing instead. How does that sound?” You whispered, making the blonde shake his head. “I-I don’t want to..”

As much as he desperately wanted to feel your cock messing up his insides, he was embarrassingly enough, a virgin. And to have his virginity taken in some dirty locker room had him thinking more rationally, holding himself back from succumbing into his desires.

“Why not? Are you a virgin?” You teased, making Atsumu pipe up with humiliation. “Am not!” He protested.

Not believing the blonde, your hand inched towards his ass, prodding at his entrance with one finger. The male immediately jolted forward into your chest, squeaking as you pushed the digit in. “F-feels weird…” Atsumu murmured.

Ah, a virgin. How adorable.

The best people to fuck, in your not so humble opinion, were virgins. They were quite similar to new toys— they’d have your cock inside of their cunts, getting a good feel of how big you are before they’re reduced to a sobbing mess, feeling your cock molding them into your shape.

“C’mon now, ‘Tsumu, don’t be such a buzzkill for yer senpai.” You mused, giving his ass a harsh slap. “I’ll take good care of you. I’ll be gentle.” Your words weren’t the most convincing especially paired with the predatory gaze in your eyes. Nonetheless, Atsumu complied hesitantly, deciding to trust you instead, “Ugh fine. Ya better be gentle or I’m backing out.”

‘You’d be too addicted to even think about backing out’ You thought to yourself, grinning as you pulled the blonde out of the shower, urging him to lay down on one of the benches before pulling your shorts off along with your boxers.

By no means were you remotely close to small. Atsumu shamelessly drooling at the sight of your thick cock leaking beads of precum in your hand. Miya could only gulp as you pressed the smooth head of your cock against his bottom lip, letting the fat head part his lips open. “W-Wait you won’t go too deep right?” Atsumu mumbled worriedly.

“Just trust me.” You responded, guiding the rest of your cock inside of his mouth slowly. And without a single warning, you grabbed the boy by the back of his head, pulling him in closer as he choked helplessly on your cock. “You can take it right Tsum? Senpai knows you can.” The condescending grin that wormed its way onto your lips made Atsumu moan against your cock, your hips now moving to fuck the wing spiker’s warm throat.

You could vaguely hear the sound of him choking and gurgling around your thick length, the younger man’s jaw now going slack with how long you’ve been mercilessly thrusting into his mouth. “Shh, Samu might walk in at any minute. How would he react to seeing his cute lil twin getting facefucked by his sleazy senior?” You whispered tauntingly, Miya only “mmf!”-ing in reply.

With your thrusts slowly becoming sloppy as you felt your high approaching, you took your cock of the blonde’s mouth before spilling your load on his pretty face, relishing in the way your cum dripped over the boy’s cute features. “S-Senpai…” The boy panted, shakily taking your cock in his small hand “Want more…”

Your prediction was proven to be correct. Miya Atsumu was already addicted to your cock and you haven’t even taken his virginity yet! What a charming lil whore, so easy for you to break and corrupt!

Smiling at the blonde, your fingers were now pushed against the puffy rim of his ass, the dampness from his recent shower making it much easier to prep his hole for your cock. Atsumu let out a soft gasp as you started to curl and twist your fingers inside of him, his body writhing cutely against the bench he was laying on. “Mm so tight, I can’t wait to fill this cute cunt up.”

Miya blushed at your words, the venom in your voice making him flush red with how needy he was for you. Jolting upwards, he could feel your fingers brushing against his prostate, a flurry of high pitched moans ripping past his throat as you continued to fingerfuck the poor boy. “Ssssso good~!” Squealing girlishly, Atsumu’s cock trembled before he came on his stomach.

“Fuck, you look so hot” You rasped out, admiring the way his chest heaved up and down, his oversensitive cock now twitching against his stomach. As much as you wanted to spend your time admiring the view, your patience was wearing thin, and you could barely keep yourself from climbing on top of his quivering figure, aligning the head of your cock against his puckered rim before pushing every inch inside of him. The pain was absolutely unbearable-- the thought of pushing you off of him was the only thing occupying his mind as he blinked back the fat tears forming in his eyes.

As expected, his ass felt so good wrapped around your cock. Nothing beats the feel of a freshly entered, young virgin, especially since he looked so pretty folded down on the bench with your cock filling his ass.

“It hurts! Too big--!” Atsumu whimpered, finally letting the tears he had been holding back stream down his pretty little face. You only grasped both of his legs in response, folding him with ease so that his ass was raised to take in more of your cock. With you, balls deep inside of him-- It was safe to say that Atsumu was slowly breaking. It was obvious with how his tongue was stuck out, eyes crossed lewdly as the tears, cum and drool on his face mixed messily together. The satisfaction of burying every inch of your cock inside of his ass only brought a wicked smile on to your face and it didn’t take long for you to start fucking him and breeding him against the dirty bench, each euphoric thrust sending atsumu overdrive as he breathlessly panted for more. His whimpers sent you into a frenzy, your hips pistolling deeper to abuse his prostate-- and the blonde could only scream for dear life as you pounded into his guts mercilessly.

Rich, deep moans spilled from your lips only aiding Atsumu into orgasming much faster. And Your brash, rapid thrusts made ‘Tsumu moan out in pure bliss, keeping himself balanced as he held onto your sturdy arms. “Such a fucking cockslut for a virgin.” You groaned, Driving your cock deeper inside of him so that you could marvel at the little bump bulging out of his toned stomach.

“Look at that, you can even see my cock in yer little tummy.” Teasing him never got old, especially with the cute whine that came out of his mouth. “If only the team was able to see just how much of a virgin whore you really are.”

That alone was enough to make Atsumu cum once more, and with one more drive of your hips against his colon, you watched as his body spasmed against your cock, his eyes rolling into the back of his head as he cried out your name.

Although you did have a bad habit of tossing virgins away once you were done using them up, you were certain that you’d keep Miya Atsumu for a while. After all, he was quite fun to play with.

[kissmejusttokissme]

Steddie Buzzfeed Unsolved Au PT2 (PT1 Here)

Kind of obsessed with looking at it from Eddie’s point of view. The man is an age-old demon hiding in plain sight at a fucking digital entertainment company. Before joining Steve's show, his job was to make internet quizzes and low-effort viral videos along with other boring stuff behind the scenes. (I imagine him as the demon equivalent to the trio from wwdits. Like, most other demons are out there possessing little kids and ruining people’s lives and Eddie is writing quizzes to purposely give people the worse answers in their 'Which Character Am I?' quiz.) He doesn’t even try too hard to hide his demon nature. People just always write it off as something else.

Then he meets Steve Harrington and, for the first time in decades, he starts having fun. And, sure, it feels a little disingenuous to be wandering around these haunted houses acting like the ghosts aren’t real (because, you know, he can literally see every ghost they encounter) but it gets a rise out of Steve and isn’t that what demons are supposed to do? Get rises out of people. (Plus, being friends with a human gets a rise out of the other demons so it’s a win-win situation.)

So, he starts enjoying the job and seeing how far he can take it. (Which, apparently, is very far.) Suddenly, he is the co-owner of Goatman’s bridge and he’s laying on the pentagram belonging to the demon at Sallie House (which he’s pretty sure gives him some sort of claim but, then again, what does he know? Demon law is exactly as boring as it sounds and he refuses to learn anything beyond what he needs). Not to mention that he keeps getting invited into Holy Spaces and speaking to priests and it’s all starting to get him a reputation as something a lot more powerful than he actually is.

(Somewhere among the way he might start falling in love with his co-host. Though he doesn’t admit it. Even he knows that a demon-human relationship is something that only works out in CW shows and bad romance novels.)

But then Steve finds out that he’s a demon. God knows how but he starts flicking Holy Water at Eddie and reciting scripture that he’s definitely reading off of his phone. It hurts but what had Eddie expected? The guy is a paranormal investigator after all. (And that puts a horrifying thought in Eddie’s head. Does that make him a paranormal investigator as well?)

After that initial moment of panic, Steve calms down and, much to Eddie's surprise, he doesn't start looking at Eddie like he’s a monster. He’s just mad that Eddie has been skewing the results. (“It’s not a win for the sceptics IF A DEMON IS SCARING THE GHOSTS AWAY!!!”) (And yes, Eddie finally admits to himself that he’s in love with the guy because how the hell can he not be.)

They spend the next couple of hours talking about every case they’ve investigated. Eddie refuses to tell Steve which locations were actually haunted but does tell him which demons were real. After four seasons, it’s the least he can do. But then Steve starts asking about how old long Eddie's been around and they find out that him being a demon bleeds into their true crime stuff as well. Because Eddie is older than fucking dirt and he's been around for most of them. Not that he knows anything useful. (“Jack the Ripper? Oh yeah, I was in London for that whole thing. No idea who he was but the beer was good.”) Which drives Steve up the fucking walls.

Even though he'd never admit it, Eddie is scared that the revelation means that they’re going to end the show but Steve just takes it as a challenge. (And maybe Eddie lets him get some evidence now and then. Just never through the spirit box. He hates that fucking thing.)

[no-droids]

Beginner’s Luck

Part Twelve of the Rough Day Series

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 14.6K

Warnings: 👀👀👀 SMUT.  Oral sex (male receiving), cockwarming, sexual acts in public, the use of blasters and other canon-typical weaponry

A/N: Twas the night before Mando season 2, and all through the house—NO IM JUST KIDDING SDKSFKSVS anyways I am so sorry for not being here for basically all of last month but I could not miss this incredibly momentous occasion for anything. Merry season 2 my lovely baby yoditos

***

“Well,” a modulated voice gruffs expectantly from behind you, clearly tired of waiting.  “Turn around, let me see.”

“No.  I look ridiculous,” you sulk from the corner of the hull, refusing to do as he says.  You thought this was stupid from the very beginning and openly told him so, but you’re also a complete pushover for him with just enough backbone to be frustrated when you inevitably give in.  “And don’t you ‘sweet girl’ me, it’s not gonna work this time.”

“Sweet girl,” Din’s deep voice lulls through the helmet, raspy and soft.

Fucking fine, if he’s gonna twist your arm about it.  You spin around with a deep frown and a chrome visor stares back at you as you waddle forwards, and you don’t even need to look at the kid cradled in his forearm to know he’s smiling toothily as you clunk and rattle.  Once you’re standing directly in front of them both, you blow the stray hair out of your eyes and plant your hands on your hips, just waiting for the inevitable response.

Only, you don’t get practically any response at all from him.  He stays perfectly still and says absolutely nothing, and though the baby’s mouth falls open with happiness and he reaches for you, he doesn’t make a sound either.

“I told you,” you grumble after a few moments of pained silence.  “I look ridiculous.”

Still, nothing.  You purse your lips, shifting from side to side uncomfortably, and eventually your suspicion grows and festers until it finally bursts forth.  Oh for the love of Maker—

“I know you’re laughing under there,” you accuse with a growl.  He doesn’t move a single muscle but you don’t buy it, not for a single fucking second.

Then suddenly the helmet glances away from you and stares purposefully at the wall of the hull as the kid starts giggling, and you knew it.  You fucking knew he was laughing.

“You look great,” comes tightly through the modulator after a moment, and you pull your lip up into a snarl, vindicated in your findings but not happy about it.

“Is that how this is supposed to protect me?”  You wave your arms, hearing them squeak and clank like you’re a droid that hasn’t been maintenanced in centuries.  The rough metal jerks up and smacks your chin with the shoulder movement and you grimace.  “Make the bad guys laugh themselves to death?”

“It's bad,” Din finally turns back to you and admits with zero shame, and your cheeks burn at how stupid you must look right now.  “Way too big.”

“Too big?”  You blink at him.  “That’s your criticism?”

When he presented it to you, your first impression was some sort of brown paint—but no.  It’s fucking… rust.  It’s damaged and scraped up and it looks like it’s been through the ringer and back, and not in a way that gives it character.  There’s almost a literal hole in the fucking chestpiece and it’s dented so much that it actually creates more than enough space for your breasts, what the fuck happened—?

“You’re telling me you went from this—”  You ask pointedly, knocking your knuckles against the ill-fitting piece of metal and feeling it wobble against your chest, “—to that—” you tap the pristine, gleaming armor strapped to his body that easily costs more than probably quadruple your entire life, “—without any go-betweens?  It’s missing one of the shoulders, Din.”

He ignores you, flipping the chestpiece over your head with his free hand and letting the metallic clatter of it meeting the floor behind you ring out through the hull.  “I’d hoped at least something would fit,” comes his filtered sigh.  “This planet isn’t nice.”

That sobers you up a bit, and you feel your heart thump painfully.  “Are we on Corellia?”  You ask without thinking.

“No,” he tells you immediately, quelling your panic while pulling off your one singular pauldron.  “Tatooine.”

You’ve never heard of it, but from the grave undertone of his voice, you know the drill.  Different setting, same kind of people.  Smugglers, rogues, criminals—the type he’s used to being around and knows exactly what to expect out of them.  You always feel safe when he’s with you, but when he leaves?

“Oh,” you say, because you don’t really have anything else.  It’s quiet for a little bit, but then he continues on before you can come up with something to fill the sudden uncertainty on your end.

“I know someone here,” Din murmurs, bending his knees and sinking down to start undoing and pulling the shoddy thigh braces off your legs.  “Someone… nice.  It’ll be safe as long as nobody sees me leaving or coming back, and the kid would be happy to see her.”

Your eyebrows pull inwards, something… unfamiliar settling inside you.  Din doesn’t have friends, he’s made it clear that he doesn’t really like anyone that he knows well enough to introduce you to.  Even when he’s lowered himself in front of you and is technically undressing you, you feel a spark of… no, not jealousy, that’s crazy.  But for real, who is he talking about?

“Why can’t me and the baby just lay low somewhere remote like normal?”  You ask instead, but he shakes his head.

“No such thing,” he grunts, pulling off the other thigh brace.  “Tuskans or Jawas will find you even in the middle of the Dune Sea.”

“I like Jawas,” you blurt, having had many positive experiences trading with the little creatures on Arvala-7, but his helmet immediately tilts up to pin you in place and you shut up, feeling the tangible unamusement radiating from the thin blade of the visor even when the kid starts giggling again.  “I mean I… don’t like Jawas?”

Din sighs and rises back up to his full height, finally handing the baby over to you now that you’re not weighed down by that ridiculous getup anymore.  “You can either stay with her while I get the quarry or run the risk of pirates finding you drifting above the atmosphere,” he reasons bluntly, not mincing words.  “But it’s not a good idea to be stuck on the surface without protection, someone will find you.”

You bite your lip, hugging the kid closer to your chest for a second.  “Okay, that’s fine,” you murmur quietly after a moment.  “We can stay with your… friend.”  

You clear your throat and move to let him pass by to get to the cockpit, except Din doesn’t take a single step.  You blink up at him and after what feels like an eternity of no response, the helmet slowly tilts sideways at you and… oops.

Was that not subtle?  You didn’t know what to call her, genuinely, that’s why you hesitated.  You didn’t want to use the word acquaintance, it felt too detached for the fact that he said the kid would be happy to see her again.  That’s what’s called a friend, right?  

Maker, why are you being so weird about this?

Thankfully, you end up getting away with it.  After a few painful seconds of looking at every single thing in the hull besides him and humming a song you make up on the spot, Din slowly walks past and disappears up into the cockpit.  You take a deep breath and gently rub the baby’s ears between your fingers as the Crest powers up with a ferocious rumble beneath your feet.

***

It’s bright.  Fuck, it’s so bright here.  You hold the kid to your chest with one hand and shield your eyes with the other as the ramp slowly descends, dust immediately kicking up around it.  Din’s palm is resting against your lower back and his thumb gently brushes back and forth, but your heart decides to drop the very moment his hand does, and as soon as the ramp clanks against the landing platform, he’s striding down into the blazing hot desert sun without you.

Something in your chest squeezes and whispers to you that he probably doesn’t want to touch you when he’s about to see an old friend again, so you wait a few seconds of space before descending down the ramp behind him, not really knowing how you feel right now.  But you’ve barely taken a single step to follow when a woman’s voice screeches out from across a vast distance.  “Oh no, no no no—don’t you even think about it!”

Din slows to a halt at the end of the ramp and gives whoever it is a small nod, nothing beyond it, and if you weren’t purposefully looking at him for cues right now, you’d probably miss the greeting entirely.  You stand on your tippy-toes from behind his cape as a fiery little middle-aged lady in a mechanic’s jumpsuit marches up to him with an attitude that more than makes up for the height difference.

“You’re not allowed here anymore,” she pokes his chestplate brazenly with one hand and props the other on her hip, clearly not excited to see him.  “Not after the ruckus you caused last time, no sir, not on my watch.”

“That won’t happen again,” he gruffs shortly, not providing a single thing beyond it, and you blink.  What… what happened last time?

“It sure won’t!”  The strange woman agrees shrilly, crossing her arms and widening her eyes until she looks a bit like she’s been out in the suns too long.  “I’m still recovering, Mando!”

“I compensated you,” he reminds her, a quiet edge of frustration beginning to creep into his voice.

She suddenly narrows her expression at him, going from manic desert lady to sharp and discerning skeptic within a split second.  “How much do you think my life is worth?”

Din takes forever to respond, seeming to either be choosing his words very carefully or grinding his teeth under the beskar in frustration.  Probably both.  “I brought my ki—”

“You bring trouble!”  She bursts out, stomping her foot on the dusty landing platform and holding her ground.  “I don’t care how cute your little one is, go park your ship on some other poor soul’s hangar bay!”

He doesn’t say anything back, staying completely silent while you stand there awkwardly and wait for his response, and it’s almost like you… forgot.  How quiet Din can be, how unnervingly little he can choose to offer to conversations until he deems the information absolutely necessary to provide.  He allows you to forget that reserved nature of his.  He talks to you.  He never used to at the beginning, but somewhere along the way it just became increasingly common to hear his voice, both with a high-pass filter and blissfully without.  Now though, there’s just too long of a weirdly tense pause in the reunion for you to handle without doing something about it.

So you step out from behind him with the child in your arms, giving her an apologetic smile with as much friendliness as you can possibly put into an expression.

“Hello,” you greet her gently, musically, lifting the baby’s hand to give her a companionable three-fingered wave from the both of you while he coos.  “I promise I’m not trouble, but he did bring me along this time.”

Din and the woman simultaneously turn to look at you; her like you’re just as strange and jarring of a sight to see on this planet as the tiny unnamed boy in your arms and him like your voice by itself is enough to loosen his shoulders.  Though neither one of them ultimately respond to you, you can tell by the way his fists unclench that you’ve at least helped him relax, even if the frizzy-haired lazy otherwise ignores your introduction entirely.

“Now just what in Maker’s name are you doing with a poor little stowaway like that?”  She faces him and pokes his armor again.  “You runnin’ a charity out of that battered piece of junk you call a ship?”

“Three hundred credits to let them stay with you for a week,” he turns back to tell her, cutting directly to the chase.  Alright, so you don’t really understand their relationship at all at this point.  He said she was nice?  And yet he’s already bribing her that handsomely?

“Five hundred,” she immediately shoots back, and your heart sinks.  Fuck, there’s no way.  There’s no way he would spend that much, you’re going to have to find somewhere else to stay.

But… he doesn’t respond.  Which you now remember with a jolt of surprise, means confirmation.  Not wasting words agreeing, he’d say something back to her if he had an issue.  Maker, five hundred credits.  You’re starting to wonder if he’s really able to make any money at all doing this, or if the job is just… fitting for him, so he continues to do it.  He’s spending more and more credits on you every single time you turn around, and while you don’t feel great about it, you know Din well enough to know he’s stable and independent enough to make the decisions he wants to make.

So you just stand there and hold the baby to your chest, unsure of your place, while Din eventually turns around to face you.

Sometimes, if you’re being honest, you almost find yourself wanting to… do soft things with him that you know you shouldn’t while other people are around.  Granted, he’s never told you not to, but the last thing you want to do is undermine his reputation by unintentionally revealing his gentler side.  You want to give him a hug and maybe hand him the baby to say goodbye, but you don’t know if that’s how he wants to present himself to company right now.  Unfortunately, that ends up translating into you just looking at him and awkwardly waiting to see what he does.  Your feelings won’t be hurt if he just takes off without another word now that you know that that’s his intent—you promise, they weren’t hurt the first fifty or so times he’s done it.  You understand him, it’s alright, he doesn’t need to—

But then he leans in and lowers his voice until only you can hear it.

“I’ll be back soon,” he tells you, and you feel warmth creep into your chest.

You understand him.  Which is why you feel like you could almost burst with how much he didn’t have to say that but chose to do so anyway.  You already have a solid time frame—a week—which is more information than you usually get, and it’s such a small thing.  It’s insane; if you made a list, you’d have 1) talking to you, 2) knowing his first name, and 3) seeing a glimpse of his forehead as your top reasons why he might care just as much about you as you care for him.  That’s insane.

He takes a second to reach a glove out and rub the baby’s ear as he makes his adorable little baby noises up at him, before the helmet tilts back up just slightly to look at you.  

“Be safe,” he waits for you to whisper back.

And you think now is finally the time to go, right?  Except he waits just a few precious seconds more, just holding there, silently.  Maker, you don’t want to miss him, why is he doing this to you?  You’re trying to play it cool, see-you-later’s have been commonplace between you for nearing a full year now, so why does it feel like now is the first time he truly doesn’t want to go?

You hold the kid with one hand and start to reach for him the split second he turns to walk away, and you quickly drop it as the dry wind snaps through his cape.  He leaves and doesn’t look back.

Still, you watch him disappear, until eventually you’re reminded of your host’s presence with the tap of a wrench against your shoulder.

“Hope you know your way around a hyperdrive,” the woman says with a smirk.  Maker, Din didn’t even give you her name, you’re going to have to ask.  “Gotta repair at least two of ‘em by sundown.”

You catch the hefty tool with your free hand and turn to her.  “Pre-Imperial or post?  Never done a restoration, but I’m a quick learner.”

She blinks at you like that was probably the last thing she expected you to say, but you give her the same friendly smile from before and look towards the entrance of the hangar for the ships needing maintenance.

***

So Peli is… a character.

She’s quick and entertaining and whip-smart, but you worry that if she had a whip, she might actually use it.  She’s nice—she is, but she damn near works you to the bone once you prove yourself capable.  You don’t think she expected the extent of your practical knowledge of mechanics, she went into it assuming you were going to be useless and did a hard U-turn that very first night.  You both worked together to fix two malfunctioning hyperdrives by sundown, just like she told you she needed, but then she looked vaguely surprised and nobody showed to pick up until two days later.

The second day is more hectic, and the third day is worse.  You cradle the kid on your hip while you work one-handed, smudged grease all over your forehead and sweat sticking your hair to your neck.  Using Peli’s sonic shower never leaves you feeling clean no matter how many times a day you find yourself wanting to wash the dust and grime from your body, the same way yours used to back on Arvala-7, and you immediately get why her dark hair seems so frizzy and dry whenever you step out of the stall and catch sight of the similar rat’s nest on your head in the small mirror.  Hypersonic waves dry it out more than the blazing hot suns on this planet—you look the same exact way you’ve looked for decades and while you don’t mind hard work, you can’t stand the complete lack of water on this forsaken rock.

Din was right, though.  She is nice, but in a way that she never wants anybody else to find out about.  She cooks you food every night but expects you to clean the whole kitchen after, she lets you have free reign over the caf maker as long as you remember to make enough for her, and she allows you and the kid to pass out on the beat-up sofa in one of the secluded back rooms for the time being.  On more than one occasion, when she assigns you chores that require two hands and a steady focus to complete, you overhear her babytalk behind the control panel as she bounces the kid in one arm and plays with his ears.  It fills your chest with a quiet, subtle kind of warmth, and you understand why Din trusts her with him.

At least you stay busy—which, understatement.  She works you so hard that eventually she starts handing you tasks that don’t really seem… pressing.  Replacing the spherical joints on her three pit droids, hand-scrubbing the grime off the pots and pans she uses to cook the same two meals everyday, polishing the dusty windows overlooking the landing platform even though they’re caked over with dirt not even an hour later.  You realize soon enough that she doesn’t have nearly the workload here as she claims, periodically catching her playing cards with the droids while you’re busting your ass doing chores once all the real work has clearly been accomplished, but you’re not upset.  You like being busy, it’s how you’ve lived most of your life.  However, at some point, you actually end up running out of things to do.  After that, it’s like she has to actively look for tasks she still needs completed.

One morning you find her in the parked Crest, ripping open the guidance systems paneling and talking to herself.  You sip your caf and watch silently from the landing bay, hair pulled up in a messy bun and the baby on your hip as the suns rise on your shoulders and she mutters, whole sheets of metal being tossed out from the insides of the Razor Crest.

You've also learned she responds incredibly well to the prospect of credits, so you don’t spend too much time wondering what her goal is—find something in the ship for you to fix and then charge Mando extra for the materials whenever he comes back.

Hilarious though, as if there’s anything in your ship that actually needs fixing.

You spin around with a sigh and walk back into the hangar, knowing today will probably be the first slow day in awhile.

***

A few hours later, you’re invited to play a game of Sabacc for the first time in your life.

There are so many rules—so many suits and names to keep track of, so many values to memorize, only to be forced to choose one card after every round to keep just in case the rest of them happen to shuffle at random, which occurs at least once or twice every game.  There’s too much luck involved to figure out any sort of strategy; you feel like sometimes you’re hopelessly lost and end up winning anyways or you wager nearly your entire stack of bolts on a perfect hand and then you lose the entire thing regardless.

It’s an unpredictable nightmare.  But it’s something to do, and you’ve learned that playing just as stupidly as you bet allows you to easily stay in the game.  The baby sits in your lap and plays with one of your rusty metal gambling pieces while your leg bounces, and Peli grumbles under her breath once it appears you get ahead of her in winnings.

“Beginner’s luck,” she tells her favorite pit droid quietly, who focuses its singular eye at you in a way that somehow feels unfriendly and nods on a brand new swivel, courtesy of yours truly.

You don’t argue, because there’s no point.  The whole fucking thing is luck, but there’s no point.  You know enough about this game to know that you might give something away if you speak, so you keep your mouth shut and let her fill the void.  You know how to stay silent, you’ve learned from the best.  Wordlessly drawing a card from the deck and tucking it in between two others of the same value, you decide to trade one of your other cards at complete random and hope it all just works out.

“Ship looks like it’s brand spankin’ new on the inside,” Peli mutters into her mug out of nowhere, and you pause for a moment, before silently nodding at the offhanded comment and trying not to show how pleased you are by it.  “Was falling apart the last time I saw it.”

You keep bouncing the kid on your knee and fan out the cards in front of you, hoping his big black eyes aren’t reflective enough to reveal your hand.  “I have a lot of free time.”

“I can tell,” she acknowledges, crossing her legs and leaning back into her chair.  Peli sets the mug down and sighs.  “You’re a good mechanic.  I’d offer you a job here, but something tells me you wouldn’t even consider it.”

Now, you do smile.  But it’s a hidden one.  A fond one.  One you find impossible to fight when you’re reminded of him.  You miss him and ache for him and all those collectively angsty things, yes—but mostly you’re just… able to find a bone-deep solace in even thinking about him.  Your heart tightens, but it’s far less constricting than it is a comfort, a firm embrace.  It surrounds you in its safety; Din’s mere existence is your protection, wrapping around you the same way the beskar protects him.  Nothing can touch you.  You’re safe, from all the things you used to fear and all the new things you’ve learned to fear.

No, you’d never consider it.  This planet is too much like Arvala-7, just slightly more populated and dangerous.  You love the baby.  You love him.  You’d never consider it.

“Don’t you get bored?”  She asks you with a raised eyebrow, and your smile admittedly drops the slightest bit.  “Just waiting around for him to come back?”

You don’t have to think about your answer.  Of course you do.  If you’re being honest, it does feel a bit like your life is split between worlds—one with him, and one without.  Whenever he’s not here, you’re thinking about how much you want him to come back, and whenever he is here, you’re thinking about how much you don’t want him to go.  You’ve never experienced anything like that before.  There were a few local farmers scattered far across the arid landscape of the place you used to call home, and three of your neighbors all had kids around your age.  So you experimented when you were younger, since you never had much else to do in your spare time, but you never loved any of them.  You’d always go back home and continue to do chores, continue to look up at the sky and wonder what you were missing.

“Yes,” you admit quietly.

But what you don’t tell her is that in exchange, you get to see the galaxy.  You get to have experiences you’ve only dreamed about, take care of the cutest little baby you’ve ever seen and become part of a family.  You don’t know of anything you could want more.  Adventure, companionship, pleasure, and fulfillment.  Sure, you get restless, and sure, you don’t necessarily feel good about the fact that Din seems to be your driving force even when he’s away, but you know independence.  You know what it means to live for yourself.  You’ve done it long enough that you’ll never forget how to, you’ve experienced it more than enough to know you’re happy about throwing yourself off the cliff and falling into something different.  As much as it’s new and terrifying, it’s better.  Now you have other people to live for, too.  

You marvel at the change—not just from a year ago, but from a handful of months ago.  He used to terrify you.  You used to keep your mouth purposefully shut around him because you were scared of overstaying your welcome and being dropped off somewhere equally as remote as the place you grew up.  Never could you have imagined that the fiercest guardian the galaxy has ever seen would decide you’re also worth protecting.

No, you figure, you just need to… find something in addition.  Something else to also commit to, give yourself something to do.  You can practice the new self-defense maneuvers he taught you, that’s a good idea.  But maybe you can also…

You eventually decide to prompt Peli in a change in conversation.  “Hey, can I ask you something?”

“What do you want now?”  She takes another sip of her caf as if you’ve been bothering her about this all day long, and… well, it’s times like these that you wish you had a helmet, too, if only so you could roll your eyes.

“I’ve got a few pieces of rusted metal in the Crest,” you eventually tell her, careful with your phrasing and not sure how much you want to reveal.  “They’re in bad shape, but I want to keep them.  Could I use some of your tools here to hammer out some of the dents, dissolve whatever crud is on the surface?  I saw you have a forge back there that’s barely been used, just need the metal hot enough to be pliable without sacrificing its integrity.”

She furrows her eyebrows at you.  “But I still need your help with…”

You wait, but she’s got nothing and you both know it.  Still, you keep a pointed silence and wait for it, wondering if this’ll actually work.  This is what Din does, right?  Just refuse to say anything and make the other person crumble under the crushing quiet?  Miraculously, it proves to be successful—you watch her flounder for a response, her will wavering the longer you sit there and stare expectantly at her.

“Fine,” Peli finally acquiesces, and you grin.  “But only if you win this round.  What d’you got?”

You set down your cards to reveal your hand.  A perfect twenty-three if you’ve been counting right, unbeatable unless she or any of the droids managed to get the same, and you know it didn’t happen as soon as she takes a few seconds for mental math and then scoffs.

“Beginner’s luck,” you tell her kindly, pushing all your winnings back over to her side of the table with one hand and scooping the kid up with the other, before turning around and heading towards the Crest in search of Din’s old armor.

***

It’s late afternoon on day five and you’re on your back on a creeper seat, sweat dripping down your neck as you reach up to fiddle with the engine of a T-16, a Skyhopper similar to one you built yourself on Arvala-7.  They're not space-faring vehicles, they’re only capable of reaching the upper troposphere, but owning one allowed you to develop solid flight skills without ever truly being able to leave.  Honestly, you don’t think you’ve ever despised a ship more.

You know you’ve got engine grease all over and you feel like you’re boiling in your own sweat, but you’re almost done.  After this, you’ll be able to go back to working on your side project.

As soon as you’d been granted Peli’s direct permission to do so, you mixed the chemicals necessary to eat away at everything besides the basic structure underneath, and then spent all day yesterday manipulating the metal to better fit someone your size and shape.  You slaved over the wickedly hot forge and developed a whole new muscle in your arm from hammering and reheating, hammering and reheating.  You had to repair the way the chestpiece was tapered into a concave point by folding the thin metal back in on itself multiple times, strengthening it without flattening it back into its original shape too much, and then you ended up melting down some of the extra material from the needlessly large shoulder and thigh pieces to fill in the gaps.

Granted, you still have a ways to go on replacing the crushed magnetics box that was falling off the chestpiece and filing down the rough scrapes and sharp edges, but you’re now left with almost a full set of armor that’s a uniform dull silver in color and molds way better to your general figure than before.  You’re not a blacksmith or armorer by any stretch of the imagination, but you’re good with your hands and did what you could in the time allotted.  It looks better than you ever thought it would, and without access to Peli’s enormous collection of tools and machinery, you know it would’ve been better off in the trash.

Still, you have to finish this engine first before you can rip apart the control unit wiring on the armor to see how the whole set fits together and what else needs to be repaired.  You’ve been working on it for a few hours before you hear the door to the hangar open.  Yet, when you don’t immediately hear Peli’s voice calling out to you, or anyone else’s voice for that matter, your heart thuds in your chest with sudden excitement.

“You’re back early,” you tell the engine suspended over your head, knowing he must’ve already thrown the quarry into the Crest parked outside before coming to see you.  Right on time, footsteps approach and then a boot carefully catches the flat platform between your legs, slowly rolling your seat out from under the ship until the rest of the sunlit hangar is revealed to you.

You know you must look a hot mess right now.  Your hair is a disaster and there’s not a clean spot to be found on your body—sweat glistens and pools along every curve you have and you’re probably drenching the spare jumpsuit Peli let you borrow, but Maker, there he is.  Every time you see him is like the first time all over again, except this time the Mandalorian is looming like a giant over you, the helmet tilted down and silently taking you in.

Instead of settling you, his daunting presence gets you hotter than dual suns in the sky ever could.  Fuck, he hasn’t said a word to greet you, and yet you’re already wondering if you can entice him to shove you back under here and join you.

You slowly push yourself upright and he steps back just enough to allow it, but not an inch more than that.  You have to crane your neck up to keep looking at him, and he stands close enough over you that you wouldn’t have to reach far at all if you wanted to touch him.

And it’s crazy to think that… you absolutely could touch him, if you wanted.  He radiates danger, he hunts and tracks for his continued survival, he’s probably got fresh blood staining the dark fabric of his cape and he’s so fucking intimidating—and if you wanted to, you could touch him.  

Maybe you can partially blame your sore muscles as to why you immediately drop your head back down, but mostly you just want to stare at a part of his body that happens to align perfectly at eye level.  And fuck, nothing stops you from looking.  He doesn’t help you up, but he also doesn’t move so you can haul yourself to your feet, either.  He just holds perfectly still with his body standing tall over yours, content to stay exactly like this while your hand slowly reaches out to wrap around one of his ankles.

He’s so warm, his muscles flex strong under your palm as you let it drift upwards, biting your lip as you flick your gaze back up to the chrome visor and then down again to the apex of his thighs.  Your other hand comes up to scale the beskar strapped to his leg and you roll yourself forward slightly, wondering if he’d let you…

The black fabric stretching over his crotch just barely touches your fingertips before his hand is suddenly whipping out and grabbing hold of your wrist.

You gasp and jerk your head up to look at him, somehow equally hoping that you’re both in trouble and not in it at the same time.  Din’s abruptly chest raises with a large, labored inhale, as if he wasn’t breathing at all that entire time, as if he just now remembered the setting, the fact that he’s not alone on the Crest with you right now.  Peli and the kid have to be somewhere in the hangar, you know that, but…

“We’re leaving tonight,” he breathes out through the modulator, and you have absolutely no fucking problem with that at all.  “But… shit, but…”

“But…?”  You prompt, wanting nothing more than to let your hands reach back up to his pants again, but you settle for slowly dragging one palm up his forearm as his grip on your wrist tightens.

“Fuck, I wanted to take you somewhere first,” he groans like your feather-soft touch is actually hurting him, his hands suddenly dropping yours and pushing you away to clench into fists at his sides.  “Maker—why do you always f-fucking do this to me…”

You raise an eyebrow at him this time, the curiosity starting to mix with the heat simmering down low, the kind that you'd feel even on a frozen wasteland of a planet as long as you were with him.  All at once, you decide to channel him and his trademarked silence, enthralled by the incredibly slim chance that it will work equally as well on its creator.

“…Distract me,” he finally growls out an answer to the question you never asked him, sounding frustrated with you for reasons you still haven’t figured out, and your mouth is drier than the desert outside.  Oh stars, you feel… fucking powerful.  “From everything,” he goes on, talking honestly and openly, more words given to you in thirty seconds than he’s probably offered to anyone all week long.  “Fuck, I feel like I can barely do fucking anything anymore, I’m losing my fucking mind.”

Your heart slams in your chest, wondering if he possibly feels the exact same way about you as you feel about him.  Missing you whenever he’s gone, dreading the moment he needs to leave again whenever he’s with you.  The thought alone is enough to set off fireworks through your veins, pumping hope and excitement from your fingers to your toes.

“I’m sorry,” you breathe out, biting your lip in a way that doesn’t look or feel sorry at all.

“No, you’re not,” Din grunts, before reaching out and hauling you to your feet, and even if there wasn’t a flat seat under you with wheels, it’d still be awkward and uncoordinated as fuck.  “Shit.  I… I need to clean up.  Grab your things, go tell…”

Din trails off after a second, suddenly sounding at a complete loss.  You catch your footing and stare at him as he falters.  “Uh.  Go tell…”  He gestures with a sense of finality to the control room, as if he’s actually successfully communicating with you by doing so.  “Her.  That we’re leaving tonight.”

“What?”  You ask him, thoroughly fucking confused.  “What are you saying right now?”

“The woman,” he clarifies, clearing his throat.  “The mechanic, with the… droids.  Tell her I’ll pay her before we leave, but we’re g—”

“Peli?”  You blurt, completely flabbergasted at this point.  “Did you forget her name, Mando?”

“I…” he shakes his head slightly at you, like you should already know him better than that.  “Never asked.”

“But you—?”  You blink at him.  “But you said she was your friend?”

“You said she was my friend,” he immediately points out, with—oh Maker, just biting accuracy.  It wasn’t necessarily a jab or anything, but you still feel dizzy with how fucking spot on he is about it.  Yikes, you absolutely did say that.  You forgot.

“Oh…” you mumble, at a stunning loss for a response.  “Ha.  Oh.  Yeah, huh.”

There’s too many beats of awkward silence after that, probably because he’s just so blown away by your way with words that he’s just attempting to analyze the wisdom.  Stars, you’re making a complete fool of yourself in front of him, aren’t you?

“Were you jealous?”  He suddenly asks, and you jerk upright, your heart kicking up to a gallop in your chest at the question.

“I’ll go tell Peli we’re leaving soon,” you quickly agree and go to scurry away in abrupt panic, but he catches your wrist and hauls you back before you can get far.  You run into him with a gasp and immediately start to repeat your explanation for why you very suddenly need to depart, but the tips of Din’s fingers catch your chin and force you to look up at him.

“Hey,” he cuts your rambling short with a hushed murmur and the pad of his thumb brushes down your jaw.  “Tell me the truth.”

You don’t have an answer that won’t be incriminating, and you don’t think you can get the delivery right on a lie, not to him and especially not when he’s got you so cornered.  So you just keep completely silent and look up at him like a scolded child would.  Innocent, wide-eyed and scared shitless about the unknown consequences of your actions.

His helmet slowly tilts as he studies you, watching you look up at him for help.  His fingers gradually spread out across your jaw, flattening under the curve of your throat but so gentle, so careful that you’re almost worried he actually is mad.

“I’m sorry,” you immediately offer before he can say anything, your eyebrows pulling up in the middle.  “I’m so sorry, it’s just—I just…”

His thumb carefully stretches up to brush your bottom lip, and you…  Mind blank, no thoughts.  Stars, you’ve got fucking nothing.

“I’ve got nothing,” you admit, giving up before you can even try.  “There’s no reason.  I was jealous.  It’s stupid and I wasn’t going to say anything because I know it’s stupid, and I shouldn’t feel possessive over you but I do, and it’s stupid.  I don’t want anyone else to know you the way I know you, and I’m really sorry if that makes you feel weird, I don’t want you to feel like you can’t have—”

Your chin lifts slightly with the gentlest movement of his hand and the subtle pressure is enough to cut your mindless oversharing off.  Din’s voice lowers until it’s throaty and quiet.

“See that wall?”  He asks, keeping the visor pinned to you while carefully turning his hand to the right, and your whole head easily follows the movement as he guides it.  You have to blink your eyes into focus a few times, but then you immediately see what he’s talking about.  It’s a partition separating the welding room from the rest of the hangar.  He waits until you nod in the cradle of his palm, before leaning in and murmuring to you.  “If we were alone, I’d take you around behind it and show you exactly how that makes me feel.”

You pull back from him with a startled gasp just as a voice calls out from the entrance of the hangar.  “Well, look who finally decided to come back!”

Din slowly drops his arms and stares at you for just long enough to make you seriously worry that he’s going to say fuck it all and do it anyways, before finally turning around and greeting Peli with another silent nod.

She plants one hand on her hip once she’s standing right in front of him, cradling the kid on with her other arm, and you have to take a second to collect yourself now that you’re not at the direct center of his attention anymore.  “Sure did take you long enough, didn’t it?”

“I’m two days early,” he grunts in his immediate defense, but it’s like she doesn’t hear him.

“You’re leaving soon I hope,” she drawls while handing the baby over to him, who makes an adorable little happy squeak at seeing his dad again.  “You owe me five hundred credits.”

“It was five hundred for the full week,” he reminds her, and… he has a point.  Though it was never part of the agreement, you wonder if she’ll be willing to accept less compensation for having the burden of your company be lifted early.

“Five days count as a full week, far as I’m concerned,” she shoots back, and your heart suddenly sinks when Din’s shoulders tighten and he doesn’t respond.

“Peli…” you sigh from behind him before you even realize you’ve spoken aloud.

Your host quickly sidesteps your bodyguard to eye you dubiously, and at the same time, you also jolt and wonder what your goal is here exactly.  You’re ultimately just attempting to diffuse any tension sparking between them, you figure, knowing you’re probably the best mediator here.  She looks at you up and down for a long time, hard and judging, before the baby babbles something wordlessly and she sighs.

“I suppose we can just call it even,” she finally huffs, turning back to him.  “You’re lucky your girlfriend earned her keep, Mando.”

And then your jaw drops.  Holy shit, is she serious?  You assumed Peli valued credits above almost anything else, you never expected her to just… turn down the entire offer like that, so willingly.  Clearly Din didn’t either, because you both just stand there for a moment in front of her in a baffled silence.

Also… girlfriend?

Is that what you are to him?  Admittedly you haven’t talked to him about what to call your relationship, but then again, you’re a practical person and you never really saw a specific need to do so.  You care about him, he cares about you—what else is important?  You don’t need a title to recognize your value to him, and for some odd reason, calling yourself his “girlfriend” just feels like you’re a teenager again.  If you were actually looking for a different word to use instead, you wouldn’t be able to find it, but you know that one just feels… not enough.  Not old enough, not encompassing enough, not complex enough.  It’s an elementary school version of what this is.  And to refer to someone like Din as your boyfriend?  Maker, just saying it aloud would probably make his eye twitch.

“Uh.”  He stands there awkwardly, and you’re so blown away by both the sentiment and specific verbiage she used that you’re practically useless at this point.  Shit, what’s beyond girlfriend, you wonder?  Lover?  No, not good enough.  Partner?  No.  No, not wife, definitely fucking not—  “Thank you.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Peli waves him away and spins around to leave, but not before throwing one final thing over her shoulder.  “That ain’t an open invitation to come back, by the way.”

All of a sudden, you just can’t stop yourself from breaking out into a wide grin, tucking your chin in hopes that she won’t see it with her back turned and decide to pounce on the display of weakness.  The three of you watch her stride out of the room and immediately bark an order at one of her droids to get back to work, who starts looking around in desperate search of something to do, and Din’s palm finds its usual place on your lower back as she disappears.

“What a nice lady,” you offer to him, and he gives you a wordless grumble in response.

***

So it’s a couple hours later and you think the kid might actually have the right idea this time.

You find yourself wishing you had a little hover pod of your own that followed Din around, one you could close the lid on and hide in while blaster fire whistles through the air around you like the baby is currently doing.  You’re trying to listen to instructions—you’re trying, but there’s a lot going on here.  Voices chatting, guns firing, targets being pinged, a lively little band playing in the cantina next door.  

When Din first led you through Mos Eisley and inside this specific adobe hut, if you’re being completely honest, you had hoped for food.  A comparatively large restaurant, perhaps?  Peli didn’t starve you by any stretch of the imagination, but her dinners were the exact same every single night, and you’ve learned to thrive on new things.  While you didn’t necessarily think he was going to take you on a… a date, or anything, you certainly didn’t expect him to take you to a shooting range.

Well.  Now that you think about it, this might actually be a date.

Luckily you’re hidden away in the furthest firing partition from the door, but even without the near-constant barrage of gunfire to your left, the distractions are still plentiful.  The kid actually reached down and pressed the button to close his crib himself as soon as the bright beams of plasma started zooming past and reflecting in his large black eyes, and oh how you wish that were you.  You don’t necessarily feel like you’re in danger or anything, but you’ve also never seen so many guns in one place before and you’re worried you’re accidentally going to hurt someone else.

So far Din has taught you the fundamentals for any firearm—always keep the safety on until you’re ready to fire, never point at anything unless you’re a hundred percent willing to shoot it, yada yada yada—and also the safety fundamentals for blasters specifically.  So, making sure there’s no leaks in the gas cylinder when you first load it, never letting a strong magnet get near the power pack, checking the surface of your target for deflection curves if you want to prevent a ricochet, or maybe in his case, inspire one.  He’s taught you your stance, he’s taught you how to read your sights, now all that’s left is just to… shoot.

Your arms raise up in front of you and the metal feels too heavy and awkward in your hands, and you have to hold the handle in your left and creep your right index finger all the up the side of the barrel until you feel the indented safety switch.  It clicks and you reset your grip to slowly ease your finger onto the trigger, staring down the sight, right at the bullseye.  Din is standing directly behind you next to the kid’s tightly closed hovering pod, arms crossed and just waiting for you to pull it.

Come on beginner’s luck, come on beginner’s luck—

You fire, and… well.  You don’t think you’ve ever seen a shot miss its target that spectacularly in your entire life.  You’re almost surprised the beam of plasma didn’t somehow ricochet back into the booth you’re both standing in, that’s how spectacularly you missed.

“Try again.”

There’s no amusement in his voice, nothing mocking about it.  Pure monotone under the helmet, as if he was just naturally expecting that to happen.  

No, you think in frustration.  You want to surprise him again, impress him with how quickly you can pick things up, turn him on like last time.  You just fucking know that would get to him—seeing you easily hit the target dead center with his own blaster, you know that would get to him.

You adjust your aim and fire a few more times.  Miss, miss, wild miss, miss.  Fuck, so many distractions, plasma flying in the corner of your vision and an increasingly heavy gaze from behind you.  Another miss, a miss, yeesh that’s a miss—

Alright, so you're just embarrassing yourself at this point.

“I think it’s broken,” you shrug in defeat, taking a second to find the safety switch and toggle it before going to set the gun down on the raised adobe platform separating the line of booths from the targets—but then Din suddenly snatches the blaster from your grip and extends his arm over your shoulder, firing off six rounds in rapid succession so wickedly fast that you jump backwards into his rock solid chest in surprise.  He doesn’t give an inch under the collision and even wraps his forearm tight around your tummy as he hits the bullseye with such deadly accurate precision that even the char marks and the line of smoke left wafting from the target’s center are razor-thin.

“Works just fine,” he grunts, setting the weapon back down again before urging you forward a bit.  “Go ahead, give it another shot.”

But you’re on a remarkable delay, just trying to process his sheer speed, how fluid and seamless the entire fucking motion was.  Fucking Maker, blink and you’d miss the whole thing.  He waited to grab the gun from you until you turned the safety on, but then… then how did he fire it so insanely fucking fast?  That’s like five different things he had to do with one single hand within a split second…?

“I turned the safety on,” you blink down at the blaster, clearly just trying to process.

“Yeah,” he agrees blankly, as if he’s unsure as to what specifically you’re so stuck on right now.

“So how did you toggle so fas—?”

He picks it from the shelf gracefully and lightning quick—as if he just can’t help but go that speed around his weapon—and then he twists it on its side, flexing his wrist back until the barrel is pointed upwards and you can clearly see his index finger extend all the way up to the safety switch, flipping it up and down while his middle finger rests over the trigger guard.

“How in the f…?”  You mutter, lifting your hand up next to his and positioning your fingers in the exact same L shape, only the tip of your index finger barely stretches an inch shy of the switch.  “Psh,” you huff, dropping your arm back down again.  “Design flaw.”

“For you,” he acknowledges, using the trigger guard to flip it back to its proper position in his hand like fucking spinning it like that is just the easiest and most natural way to handle the deadly weapon.  “This gun was made for me, it’s a feature.  Yours would be smaller and lighter, have the safety towards the back of the chamber instead of along the barrel.”

The words and the casual display of ability cause a rush of stirring excitement to burst forth inside you, suddenly giddy at the very thought.

“Wait,” you draw the word out with a grin, leaning back into him and gently nudging him with your elbow to make sure he knows you’re only mostly joking.  “You gonna buy me a blaster, Mando?  I did earn my keep this week, didn’t I?”

“Have to find one that fits a big enough sight first,” he mutters while setting the gun down on the table, and you scoff at him as his hands come to rest on your hips.  They squeeze and try to guide you forwards once again.  “Prove that you can at least hit the target with mine and we’ll see.”

“You only get to make fun of me if you give me a real answer,” you rule, planting your feet and refusing to budge.

“Okay, but we both know I’ll make fun of you anyways,” he sighs, and you have to dig your heels in and push back into him to keep yourself rooted to the spot.

“You’re not being a very encouraging teacher,” you accuse without trying to hide your grin.  “In fact I feel very discouraged right now and I think that y—”

But then Din suddenly tips his helmet closer to your ear and lowers his voice, cutting you off.  “Did you know that gifting someone a weapon is considered a proposal of marriage on Mandalore?”

Your smile quickly drops and you gasp, wholly startled at the implication and immediately trying to spin around to look at him.  “Holy shit, are you serious?”

“No,” comes his modulated grunt, tightening his hold and keeping you firmly facing forwards.  “Of course not.  Pick up the gun.”

Okay.

Okay, so that one gets you.

You immediately start giggling, painfully aware that this isn’t the time or place for it, but that one actually fucking got you.  Din easily guides and parks your gullible ass in front of the window carved out of dried mud before picking up the blaster himself and forcing you to hold it with your loose hands, grumbling under his breath.

Shit, okay, focus.  Focus, you can do this.  You clear the laughter from your throat and suddenly get deadly serious, staring your target down like it’s personally gone out of its way to ruin your entire life.  The blaster feels cold in your palms but not when Din’s hands wrap warm and tight around the back of yours, letting you hold the gun how it’s most comfortable for you before gently settling his fingers down over yours.  His chestpiece presses tight against your shoulder blades when he guides the gun up and out, and his arms are long enough to extend yours fully even though he’s behind you and still has some bend to his elbows.  He uses his feet to kick your ankles apart until they’re shoulder-width and then you both carefully find the trigger together.

He’s quiet and slow about it and the whole thing is one giant fucking turn-on.  Maker, chill out.  Chill out, he’s teaching you how to shoot.  This is important stuff, there are people around, chill out…

Din takes a moment to aim the barrel and his hold is so fucking steady, so unwavering and strong.  You wonder if it’d be too obvious if you pushed your hips back a little, you might be able to feel his—

“Fire,” Din murmurs next to your ear, and you pull the trigger without a second thought.

The bright red plasma beam launches from the end of the blaster and hits the target dead center.  You gasp, pulling the trigger again, and unsurprisingly, it’s another perfect shot.

He suddenly lets go of your arms and takes a small step back, but the second he removes his body from yours, the rounds start bouncing wildly off the edges of the target.  Your eyebrows furrow and you try to emulate how you think the angle felt before, but you can’t find it anymore and you’re just failing spectacularly.

When you decide to pause for a second, Din steps up close behind you and wraps his arms around you once more.  You can feel the exact moment he’s locked in his aim, and you fire wordlessly as soon as you know it’s going to hit.  Bullseye, right on the nose.

This time, he lifts just his hands away from yours, staying perfectly still otherwise and you swear you don’t move a single fucking muscle in your entire body before pulling the trigger, but it still hits the far corner of the target.

“It’s broken,” you shrug once again, and Din drops his helmet to your shoulder with a sigh.  “This gun was made for you, which means there’s obviously some mod you have installed that reads biometrics and ruins the shot no matter how good it—”

“Not even close, but that’s not a bad idea,” he tells you, watching you click the safety on and set the uncooperative blaster down.  “I can’t figure out what you’re doing wrong.   Are you just distracted?”

Uh, fuck yeah you are.  So much is going on and more than that, he’s here and he’s just… fuck, you know what he meant when he said he felt like he was losing his mind.  He’s your biggest distraction, all the time.  He’s still standing so close to you and the baby is still isolated and tucked away in his hovering sphere, and you take a moment to think about it.  

Yes, it’s… it’s possible that you may learn better by example than anything else.

“Can I watch you do it?”  You ask him, and Din shrugs before reaching around you and quickly grabbing the blaster from its mud shelf.  “Wait—” you tell him while he raises and extends his arm over your shoulder, and then you wiggle sideways as much as possible in the small booth to squeeze around behind him.  He doesn’t say anything as you swap places with him and scoot up behind him, but you can tell by his body language that he’s confused.  You wonder if he liked that position and watching you shoot his gun, even if you’re complete shit at it.

He stands in front of you for a second and you give him an encouraging, “Okay,” to let him know you’re ready, but then the helmet turns back to look at the target like he’s still unsure as to what you want specifically.  You keep your mouth shut and let him figure it out.  You meant what you said—you want to watch him shoot.  You want to watch him where he’s infamous, watch him do what he’s best at and let completely loose in front of you.

As if it finally clicks for him, Din turns to face the target and suddenly throws the blaster into his left hand while reaching down and pushing a button hidden under the hollow platform with his right.  You have to lean around his broad shoulders to watch the target slide backwards on its track easily triple the distance before squeaking and slamming to a stop.  Din stretches his non-dominant hand out and subtly tilts his helmet before firing six times, easily hitting the bullseye with just as much accuracy as before, and you frown when you notice the only shots that have actually hit the target so far have all been dead center.

He sets the gun down and stands there for a second, staring across the range like it’s nothing at all to him and it’s… remarkable.  Not that he’s a wicked shot, you’ve known that the second you laid eyes on his armor all those months ago.  No, it’s just… you would think this is where he’d thrive, if anywhere.  The entire place is full of smugglers, raiders, scavengers, mercenaries—occupations that define themselves by their grit.  They’re talking as much as they’re shooting, conversing in languages you’ve never heard but suspect Din easily understands.  But instead of fitting in, he’s just… there.  He doesn’t look comfortable, but he also doesn’t look uncomfortable, either.  He doesn’t look like he’s having any fun at all.

None of this is considered a hobby to him, you suddenly realize.  It’s not fun because he’s too good at it.  This is life.  This is going back to school for the most basic fundamentals of a job he’s excelled at for decades—it’s not interesting, he’s gaining absolutely nothing from practicing.

You try to think of the last time you’ve seen him truly in his element.  You think back on all the different settings—he looked out of place on Canto Bight, got into fights on Corellia, hated Coruscant, seemed stressed on Nevarro, and even on Naboo, even in the middle of paradise, he looked unsure if he actually deserved to be there with you.  Now here on Tatooine, where he has real people that he trusts, where he’s surrounded by like-minded individuals shooting his favorite things in the world, it’s like he’s still not able to fully let go.

Is it just you, you wonder?  Does he stand out more just because you’re the one looking?

No, you think.  No.  You have seen him relax.  You’ve seen him laugh before, you’ve seen him be himself with you.  

But… only with you.  A hardened bounty hunter that much prefers the company of a young woman and an infant to literally anyone else in the galaxy.

Fuck.  Why does that turn you on so fucking much?  It’s the display of prowess, the sheer skill he’s developed, how fucking deadly he is—and how you’ve felt him use that trigger finger to trace slow circles around your clit.  The Mandalorian standing with his blaster raised has probably been the last thing too many people have ever seen in their lifetimes, and yet watching from this angle just makes you feel protected, guarded, and… so fucking horny for him.

“Do it again,” you eventually murmur, touching both your palms to his back this time just to feel it.  You want to feel him shoot, you want to feel his muscles move with it.  You want to touch how mechanically he’s able to aim, you want to know if he’s loose or tense when he fires, you just want to… feel it.

Din grabs the gun and as he extends his arms out, you slide your hands up his back to rest under his shoulders.  He’s so broad, he feels so warm and strong, and his trigger releases are so steady that nothing above his wrists move.

Shit, before he’s even finished setting the blaster back down again, you’re already scooting up behind him as close as possible and carefully slithering your arms around his waist, hugging your body tight to his back.  Din stays completely still while your mouth presses against the fabric of his cape and your hands begin to slowly slide down his stomach.

He doesn’t say a damn thing, which makes it even hotter for some reason.  There’s no warning he gives you, no low growl of your name or sweet girl being dragged through the modulator.  He stays completely silent and holds there while blasters continue to fire from stalls to your left, and it gives you the thrill of your lifetime.  Big strong man holding perfectly still for you to touch in the middle of a crowded room.

Your hand slips under his waistband and sink down low until you can trail your fingertips along his cock, hidden from sight beneath the edge of the clay shelf.  The small sound you make at feeling it already firm and at attention for you gets lost in the noise of the shooting range, but you wrap your palm around it and give it a good, slow pull upwards, feeling Din’s back expand with a breath from the sensation.

“Do it again,” you whisper into his shoulder blade, slowly playing with his cock in his pants with one hand while keeping the other wrapped tight around his abdomen.

Din immediately snatches the blaster off the platform and fires it the very moment he takes aim, and you can feel his cock pulse in your palm as he lets off the shots.  Dead center, as always, but he clunks the metal back down with a bit more force this time and then lingers his fingertips at the sloped edge of it for a second, as if he’s considering whether or not he should hold onto it.  

You’re already wet between your legs, but it gets worse the longer he allows you to keep doing this.  His skin is furnace-hot and he throbs for you, and you trail your thumb up to check—oh, Maker, he’s leaking for you, too.  You drag the pad of your thumb over the tip and gently rub the wetness along the curve of his head, before easing back down to give the shaft another slow pull.

A quiet puff of air comes through the vocal filter, but that’s all you audibly get out of him.  Still, it’s more than enough to fill you with a wicked heat and a desperate desire for more.  So you bite your lip and glance around just to double-check that nobody else has wandered over behind you and the kid is still tucked away in his crib, probably passed out in the secluded darkness at this point.  And then you barely take a split-second to consider it before your knees are bending and you’re slowly sinking down the length of his body.

Din is a fucking statue.  He doesn’t do anything to allow your wiggling underneath the raised platform anymore than he widens his stance to prevent it.  Once you’re on your knees in front of him in the dim isolation of your hiding spot though, he takes a single step forward and pins his waist to the hardened clay above your head, and a thrill skitters through you at being completely walled in on all four sides.

You reach up to hook your fingertips in his hem of his trousers and begin pulling them down, so tight and achy between your legs that you want to shove your hand down between them already.  You don’t though, not yet, because you need two hands to be extra careful in getting his cock out.  You don’t even want the fabric of his pants to touch it, you want your mouth to be the only sensation he knows here.

At the very last second, you decide to pull the waistband down far enough to let his balls rest outside the confining clothing, getting increasingly hotter at the thought that this isn’t going to be sneaky and dirty, even if you’re in public.  Din’s wide stance and the floor-length cape hide you perfectly from any prying eyes behind his back, so it’s going to be soft and it’s going to be slow and he’s going to be comfortable while you go down on him.

Your mouth is already watering, so you bend down just slightly and lift your chin to gently drag your tongue along the smooth skin of his balls before anything else.  Honestly—you don’t think he’s expecting you to go there first, because his whole body suddenly jerks at the velvet soft sensation between his legs and you let out a low hum in response.  He can’t reach you down here unless he tries to, so you scoot your knees up a little bit and just decide to go for it.  This way he won’t be able to get it confused, he won’t pull you out from under here halfway through when you suck on his balls before anything else.  This is what you want from him, what’s right here in your mouth.

You switch to the other one and Din twitches with a filtered breath, the skin already tightening up and responding gorgeously under your tongue.  His hand hovers somewhere near the raised platform above your head, fingers curling in his leather gloves and caught right between stopping you and letting you continue.  While he allows it, you ease your way up and make it just tantalizing enough to make him ache without providing any real stimulation, slowly trailing your tongue up the length of his cock and pressing plush lips to the flared head.

Din exhales a shakily while you take your time, tasting the precum as his body produces it, just kissing and licking and purposefully refusing to touch him with anything besides your mouth.  Without being able to see the rest of him from this angle, you're left to your own devices—you’re so gentle and soft about the pleasure that you start to separate the man from the throbbing erection you’re currently playing with.  You begin to enjoy yourself without thinking too much about the struggle he must be withstanding right now, you moan softly against his heated skin even though you know you’re being a tease at the worst possible moment, but no matter how you decide to take your time with it, Din continues to allow it.  He endures.  Silent, perfectly still, until you eventually decide to wrap your lips around the head of his cock and flutter your tongue up underneath it.

But then he jumps and your eyes open when a deep, unkind voice from the stall to your left calls out, “Hey, Mando!  Gonna fuckin’ shoot or just stand there, huh?”

You can hear his immediate frustration in the blaster scraping against the shelf over your head, and you moan softly around his cock the second you feel him tense and start firing.  The smooth skin pulses on your tongue and you slide your fingers around the backs of his knees, opening your throat and slowly taking him deeper.  

And, for a man that has repeatedly fired six perfect shots every single time he picks up his gun, he falters after just three this time.

The heat of your mouth must be too overwhelming.  Too fucking good, too detrimental to his focus and composure to even perform the most basic tasks he typically excels at.  Like a seasoned mathematician that suddenly struggles to count to ten, a renowned author that can’t recite their ABC’s—Mando can’t even fire a weapon right now and it’s all because of you.  

He has to keep trying though, he has to make an actual effort now that you both know someone nearby is paying at least some sort of attention to his performance.  The sound of more plasma arcing through the air over your head slowly disappears into the background in a way that it never could while you were the one firing—you’re completely hidden and safe down here, you can moan low in your throat while keeping your hands around his knees and begin to bob your head without another thought or worry whatsoever.  Handling it is all on him.  He just needs to stay quiet, be still, and shoot his gun.  It should be the simplest thing in the galaxy for him, right?

Wrong.  So wrong.  You hear the way the bolts are pinging off the sides of the target now, you listen to him grunt and let off a few more shots that also sound like they miss.  Your soft palate lifts and you’re practically drenching yourself at how wide he stretches your throat while you take him down as far as you can, and there’s a moment where you’re holding there and you think about doing something about the dull ache throbbing between your legs.  But once you pull off him for air and automatically touch your drooling tongue to your palm, you decide this is what you want more.

Your slick hand wraps around his cock and starts to slowly jerk him off while your mouth moves down to attach to his balls once more, your touch gliding strong and wet along his entire length.  Din almost doubles over into the platform, his hips stuttering up for the first time at the hard stimulation you’re finally giving him.  His skin swells and tightens in your mouth—you can feel the tension locking his thighs down, you can hear the shots above you start to decrease in frequency, and you know he’s already close.

So you move back up to suck on the head of his cock again and slowly swirl your tongue around it, continuing to use your hand to pull steady and firm on the rest of his shaft, and you just close your eyes and wait for him to give you what you want.  His firing soon stops altogether and you squeeze your finger between your thighs and press hard against your clit, just needing to relieve some of the ache.  You keep doing that, you keep drawing circles with your tongue while slowly jerking the rest of him off into your mouth, and at some point, it all just becomes too much for him.

“Shit,” Din gasps, along with the sudden sound of metal skittering against the clay above you, and your eyes pop open in surprise.  “Ah, sh—shhhhh—”

Maker, did he just drop his fucking gun?

You start to pull back, but then suddenly a trembling hand shoots down and clutches tight under your throat, hooking hard behind your jaw to make sure you stay right there.

His cock starts throbbing and he shudders, slamming his other palm on the shelf and cumming hard in your mouth.  You’re already swallowing before he even gives you anything but Maker, you’re fucking desperate for it that your hand moves to curl your fingers against the exposed skin at his hips as if that’ll somehow help you get it sooner.  The first taste of him comes as soon as you dig in and drag your nails down his flesh, and Din is helpless to do anything else besides clutch your jaw tight and gasp raggedly while emptying himself down your throat.

He shakes and shudders and you don’t spill a single drop, clutching his hips and pulling him close to keep him in your mouth, and as he slowly comes down from that plateau, you lick every inch of him clean.  His fingers gradually lose their rigidity around your jaw and eventually, his fingers drop down to press gently against your throat while his hips pull back.

He slips from your mouth and you wipe the wetness from your chin, staring up at his cock wistfully and almost wanting to keep going.  Is that fucked up, you wonder?  What would he think?

He hasn’t moved yet, why isn’t he moving?  Your job is clearly finished here, no matter what kind of way you may feel about that.  The coast must not be clear, you have to assume.  Perhaps someone is wandering around behind him, maybe he’s still being cautious about the nosy person next door—all you know is that you can tell he wants to move but he isn’t, which likely means he can’t.  You know his cock must be so unbelievably sensitive right now, but he’s not easing his body back far enough away from the shelf to tuck it into his pants.  He’s keeping it right in front of your face and expecting you to stay there until he deems it appropriate for you to get up.

The longer you wait for him to step back and let you out from under here, the more your need sparks and grows.  What would he think?  That you’re so desperate for his cock that you still want it in your mouth even when it’s soft and spent?  Maker, he’d be fucking right on the money.

At some point, you can’t stop yourself.  You lean back up to slowly take his soft cock back in your mouth, and Din nearly spasms while you slip your hand under your waistband and widen your knees.

You don’t do anything spectacular to it—you’re not that cruel—but you do hold him on the heat of your tongue and keep him there, fluttering your eyes closed as your finger finally touches your clit.  Air puffs shakily through your nostrils and you think Din is actually shaking harder than you are, his body fighting oversensitivity while yours starts the race towards bliss.  He doesn’t stop you but it also feels like he’s purposefully trying not to, like everything in him is rebelling against the wet heat of your mouth but knowing you’re only doing this because you’re so painfully turned on.  You’re doing this because you need it, in spite of the electric shocks of wicked sensation it seems to be inspiring in him.

Your finger speeds up and you start gently sucking on the warm, giving flesh, and his hand trembles as it grabs at your hair.  Fuck, you don’t care if he thinks you’re desperate—you want him to recognize it, you want him to know exactly how much you love his cock—

That thought sends a dark thrill down your spine and pleasure burns bright and needy where you’re still rubbing your clit, dropping your hips and rolling them forwards against your hand.  And oh, your only lament is that you wish he was the one doing this.  You wish Din was building your pleasure instead of letting you use his body in search of your own, you wish it was his hand working between your legs and about to shove you over that ledge, but then again.  Something about this whole fucking scene is just so… undignified.  Debased.  And you’re getting off on it, quicker than you ever thought possible.

When you cum, you’re good and you don’t make a single sound when you cum.  You squeeze your eyes shut and your entire body jolts with every single shattering wave of ecstasy, and Din tugs a handful of your hair and slowly rocks his hips once, twice, fucking your mouth while you endure wildfire burning through your veins.  By the time you finish convulsing on the fucking floor of a Tatooinian gun range, you know you can go for another and probably get it equally as quick as that one, but Din is already pulling his cock out of your mouth and shoving it back into his pants.  You’re like jelly as your elbow is immediately caught in his arm and you’re hauled up from your hiding spot, dazed and disoriented.

The chrome visor stares you down and you want to shrink in on yourself, thinking he’s going to take your happy ass back to the Crest.  You should be in trouble, you know you should be in trouble.  Leaving the recesses of your dark cubby and coming face to face with your surroundings brings a brand new clarity to light—you totally should not have done any of that.  He was trying to teach you, for Maker’s sake.  He was taking the time to show you the valuable knowledge he’s gained regarding weaponry and self-defense.  Fuck, you even told him on Naboo that you wanted to shoot a gun, and he brought you here to do just that.

Except then he just spins you around and picks up the blaster from the adobe ledge in front of you, placing it firmly in your hands.

“Okay,” he pants quietly next to your ear, breathing hard and shallow through the helmet.  “Now you should be able to focus, right?”

Fuck…  Fuck, is he serious?  You can barely hold the damn thing, you’re shaking so hard.  How does this work again?  What does this do?

“Wh-What?”  You croak—fuck, your voice is gone.  “I… I can’t—”

“Try,” he encourages, helping your comparatively tiny hands flip off the safety but other than that, stepping back and leaving you to it.  Completely and hopelessly lost, you weakly twist around to watch him stand next to the kid’s closed metallic shield.  “Hit the target,” Din reiterates with a nod, trying to catch his breath.  “You can do it.”

You look back out with unfocused eyes to see it still all the way on the far end of its track, and there’s just absolutely no fucking way.  “I… can’t.”

“Hit the target and we can go home,” he tells you, and while you don’t exactly know what home is anymore, something tells you it’s somewhere in hyperspace.  A resting baby, a metal floor, a pitch black hull, and your cheek pressed against a warm chest.

It sounds… wonderful.

Inspiring a newfound kind of desire in you, you lift your arms as best you can and work so, so hard to keep them steady.  The target is in your sights and you do your absolute best—fuck, you really do, but you pull the trigger and the shot sadly bounces off the edge.

You drop your hands, already defeated and drained.  “I can’t.”

“Hit the target and I’ll buy you a blaster,” he ups the ante, and you instantly lift your dead arms again.  Fuck, come on, come on, you can do this.

You shoot.  Nope.  So you shoot again.  And then you shoot again, and again, minutely adjusting your wrists purely based on where the bright red plasma is landing and ignoring the scope entirely.

“A nice one,” he continues over the pew pew pew of you just continuing to fucking miss, fucking miserably, over and over again.  “Expensive.  Hand-crafted, one of a kind…”

Miss, miss, miss, and—no.  Just, no.  There’s only so much glaring failure you can take before you snap.  You finally stop shooting and growl in frustration, going to slam the metal down on its resting place.  “Mando, I ca—”

“Hit the target and I’ll marry you,” he says quietly, and you freeze just before impact.

… What?  N… No…

Miraculously, you somehow manage to calmly switch the safety on and set the blaster down before turning back to see the helmet staring at you, unmoving.

You… you know it must just be a joke, right?  Just a stupid extension to the one he made earlier, it must be.  You blink dumbly at him and flick your gaze between the visor and two large black eyes staring at you from the crib, wondering if you glitched or if you’re just hallucinating.

“Uh…” you hear yourself say, even though you’ve got absolutely nothing, but Din doesn’t offer anything else to fill in the gaps of your startled misunderstanding.  If you didn’t have such a wild fucking reaction to the words, you'd probably wonder if he actually said them or not—that’s how much he gives away.  Silent, so unbelievably silent when you’re begging him to give you at least something.  Is he messing with you again?  Is he just that confident that you’re going to fail?

It takes forever for you to turn back around and face the target, but you eventually do when he refuses to elaborate.  Your heart slams in your chest and you wonder what you’re doing even attempting this.

The moment you lift your trembling arms is the moment you know your heart is pounding too fast—your finger twitches with the wild rush of blood flow and you end up pulling the trigger way before you’re ready.  You fire before you’ve checked your sights, you fire before you’ve taken any sort of aim whatsoever, you fire spontaneously enough to surprise even yourself and it—

—it hits dead center.

Your stomach drops and a jolt of some rabid feeling punches through you, you have no idea what it is.  You whip around so fast that you get dizzy, seeing him standing there, completely still.

“That was just beginner’s luck,” you quickly reassure him, suddenly feeling faint.  Holy shit, holy shit, what the fuck just happened?  “Listen—hey, no, listen, I can’t get it again,” you explain shrilly to the utterly dead silence from him.  “Look, watch this, double or nothing.”

You spin back around, well aware that absolutely nothing about what you just said or what just happened made any fucking sense at all.  Beginner’s luck when you’ve been consistently awful at this, telling him repeatedly to listen when you’re very, very fucking aware he hasn’t said anything, double or nothing on a literal proposal as if double marriage is something that actually exists?

No.  Shut up.  Don’t even think that word, don’t think about fucking anything.  Fire, fire without thinking, just lift the gun and pull the trigger—

You do, and oh.  Oh, no.

“Uh?!”  Your voice comes out on a squeak, now in a complete fucking panic.  What the fuck?  No fucking way.  Perfect, perfect, the odds are fucking astronomical—another deadly accurate shot.  “Ah, um, okay, scratch everything I said—th-third time’s a charm?”

Wide-eyed and having absolutely no clue what you’re doing at this point, you fail to see Din slowly turn his helmet down and to the right as he stands behind you.  You go to lift your arms and pull the trigger, but then he suddenly reaches out lightning-quick and bumps your elbow upwards at the very last second.  

The abrupt push causes your shot to be angled off course spectacularly and you can’t do anything but look up and gasp in horror, worried it’s going to ricochet off the ceiling and land somewhere this building isn’t architecturally designed to absorb.  There’s just enough time to wildly wonder why the fuck he did that—

—but then, like pure magic before your eyes… the beam of plasma adjusts itself in midair.  

It fucking bends.  Across the length of your entire firing lane, it curves in a downward trajectory and hits the target with absolutely impossible physics.

Your jaw fucking drops and you whip your body around in dumb shock to see Din staring hard at the closed shield next to him.

… that’s not closed.

The baby tilts his head at you and coos happily, one ear tipping up while the other tips down, and you’re completely blown away.  Not only at the entirely unexpected demon-power display, but what specifically he was hoping to get out of it.  You’re still stuck, blinking down at the adorable little goof with abilities you’ll never understand.

Only, a hand suddenly grabs yours and drags you back to yourself.

“We need to leave,” Din says quietly, switching the lid shut on the hovering crib and pushing it towards the booth’s exit while tugging you along behind him.  “I don’t know how many people saw that, we need to leave.”

Sure enough, voices in the next partition over start picking up, likely the only ones in here who had a good enough angle to watch the physically unthinkable shot somehow meet its target, and your adrenaline quickly begins pumping while you keep your head down and power-walk your ass to the door.  You don’t know the kind of consequences that could potentially arise from others witnessing the kid’s literal sorcery, but you know you’d rather not take the chance.  The voices start growing louder as you three make your quick escape, beginning to ask others around them if they just saw that, but you’re already out of the rectangular adobe structure and long gone by the time anybody steps out of their panels to hear the uproarious accusations of cheating beginning to fly.

***

Stay tuned for the next part!

[itisannak]

Car Sex (Luke Hemmings Smut)

Summary: Luke and (Y/N), both college students, living with their parents, have to get creative to find some alone time. (Smut / Unprotected Sex /  Penetrative Sex / Public Sex / Creampie) (Words: 5.4k) (Request)

"Be back by 11:30." My dad shouts as I run down the stairs, heading to the door. "The movie ends at 12." I remind him, sighing over how strict he becomes when he knows I am going out with Luke. "12 it is then." He replies, peeking at me from his armchair. "I don't have classes tomorrow... And teleportation had yet to be invented last time I checked." I point out, crossing my arms before my chest. "Smarty-pants. If he brings you home a minute after 12:30, you are grounded." My dad tries to sound tough, but he is a big softie. I rush to him, leaving a peck on his cheek before strutting out of the door.

Luke has been waiting long enough in the car, longer than I would have the patience to wait for someone without pressing my hand on the horn. I did not expect to see him inside the parked pick-up park, but here I am, opening the passenger door to join him inside. "Wow, that is a first..." I comment, pressing my lips together to stop my laughter as soon as I am in. I just picture him as a hillibilly, chewing on a hay straw, and the mental image is enough to make me double over in laughter. "Shut up. My brother lent me it for the night." He explains, pulling out of the driveway. "Why does your brother have a truck?" I ask, pulling the seatbelt to fasten myself. "He works in constructions." He replies, turning his head for a quick peck on my forehead. "Right." I mumble. "What time does your curfew start?" He asks me, shifting the gears. "I have to be home at 12.30, not a minute later. It still fucks me up that I still have a curfew at 19 and you don't." I groan, crossing my arms. Luke shrugs, having a charming little smirk decorating his lips. "My parents had enough of setting rules for disobeying teenagers with my brothers, so I guess I had it easy, they never bothered placing one." He comments as I prop my elbow against the window's frame, supporting my head as I look at him. "There is no way your mother is that elastic with you. I had chills every time I walked into her class in high school." I really do exasperate, earning a laugh from Luke. I love it when he laughs; his face brightens up, and his dimples make him really irresistible, along with the crinkles around his eyes. I reach over, stroking a messy curl with my fingers, before pushing it off his forehead. "She is much chiller when you get to know her." He replies, resting his hand on my thigh. "I guess you are right." I sigh, feeling jittery at the way he touches me. "Pity I will have to take you home straight after the movie. I was hoping for some more time with you." He says in a low voice, almost like he fears getting heard. "It has been too long since the last time we had more time together." I reply. It would be a lie if I said I am not actively craving him. I still dream of his touch, the way he kissed me last time, the way he moved against me. "To be clear, I am talking about having sex." He explains and I chuckle, throwing my head back. "I am talking about having sex too, Luke." I reply, making him hum, pleased by my response. "We gotta do something about the housing situation." He sounds determined, which is just hilarious at this point. "Well, we are broke, college students who can only afford to live with their parents. I don't know if there is much we can do about it at this point." I reply, while his hand squeezes my inner thigh. "I am just... I just need more of you." He groans and I hum, feeling my stomach tighten at his words. "Can we talk about the movie? This is becoming... A little too intense for me." I bite my bottom lip, running my fingers through my hair. "Of course. They are showing the Texas Chainsaw Massacre." He states, letting his touch linger for a little longer before he removes his hand. I press my thighs together, trying to relieve some of the tension between them. It is hard for me to take my mind off Luke being inside me, kissing me, touching me, even with the prospect of watching a movie about cannibalistic psychopaths. "Why do you always pick horror movies for date night?" I groan, nudging his shoulder. "Because you always leave me in charge. And because the gore is the only thing stopping me from fantasizing about you." He replies, taking my hand in his and bringing it to his lips. "You fantasize about me?" I ask, feeling the tingly sensation making its way back. "All the time. My thoughts are just a never-ending movie of things I want to do with you... of things I want to do to you. And I am just trying to find ways to just pause that movie for a while." He admits. "Is the movie playing right now?" I ask, flushing as I wait for him to tell me. "You wanna know?" He asks and I nod at him, knowing my eyes are glistening with excitement. "Right now it shows the scene where it is Sunday morning, and we have just woken up, naked in bed. And I am just taking you in, in all your glory." He replies. "You are definitely giving me the PG-13 version right now." I point out and he shrugs. "I am keeping some of the good stuff for a little later." He winks at me, causing me to bite the inside of my cheek.

We purchase some popcorn and sodas from the drive-through kiosk before Luke finds the spot we are supposed to park. The back of the pick-up truck is facing the screen, which means we will have to get out of the car and climb onto the back. "I really want to see you try to get in the back, wearing that dress." Luke comments, picking up the snacks and getting out of the car. "I know you want to peek under my skirt, but gosh, don't be so obvious about it." I chuckle, hopping off the car. Luke waits for me in the back of the truck, holding his connected palms low, so I can step on them and go up the cargo bed. "You are a true gentleman..." I comment, leaving a peck on his cheek, before I step on his hands and he boosts me up. "Need help?" I ask him once I land just right. "I got it. Lay the blanket I have in there. And move the snacks, I don't want to knock them." He instructs, stepping onto the rim under the taillights. I hold the snacks tight as he steps in, dusting himself off. "This is actually nice." I admit, laying one of the blankets for us. "See? That will teach you not to laugh at me before you see my intentions." He comments, sitting down on the blanket, with his back against the divider. "You should be happy I am laughing. It means you make me happy." I reply and he hums. I take a seat between his thighs, leaning my head back on his shoulder, bringing my lips to his neck for a soft peck. "I promise to hold you tight at the scary parts." I whisper, knowing that I will spend the entirety of this movie with my face buried in his chest. "I will hold you up to that." He chuckles, leaving a peck on my forehead.

The night chill proves I am a fool for wearing a frilly little dress for the night screening. But luckily, Luke has predicted that and has brought a second blanket along, which now is covering our laps. "You look mighty cute in the cinema lights." Luke whispers, stroking my hair softly. "You are supposed to be focusing on the movie, not me." I laugh, trying to keep my voice low so I don't bother the rest of the viewers. "You are far more interesting than any movie." He replies, turning my head to plant a kiss on my lips. I smile against his lips, parting my mouth so he can slip his tongue past my lips. His hand softly grazes my face, and I then decide to turn around and straddle his lap. "You can't do that to me." He groans, throwing his head back. That gives me access to his neck, which I take advantage of and trail with kisses. "Why not?" I ask, pouting at him. "(Y/N), please... This is torturing. It has been too long since we had sex. I am craving you, and this is not helping me." He replies, while my hands move to his hair. "I am craving you too. I need you." I whine, earning a sigh. "I need you too. But we don't have the time nor the place to do that." He replies, and I shake my head. "What about right here, right now?" I ask, making him tilt his head and look at me, with eyes glazed in excitement. "You mean...?" "Who's going to see us? And don't say the movie is more interesting than me..." "Fuck the movie." He groans, bringing his hand to trace my thigh, stopping on the hem of my dress. "I'd rather you fuck me." I reply, earning a smirk from him. "This is risky." He comments and I shrug. "You love it, don't you?" I ask and he hums. He throws the lap blanket aside, laying me with my back on the blanket laid on the floor of the cargo bed. "You will have to be very quiet..." He states, stroking my cheek softly. "You are the one to talk..." I mumble before he leans down to kiss me.

He clumsily fumbles with the lap blanket, covering us for a mock discreteness, even though we both know a blanket will do nothing. He roams his hands from my face to my sides and then retires them on my thigh. I prop my leg up, wrapping it around his waist. "You are so soft." He moans against my mouth, squeezing my thigh softly. My lips curl into a smile, feeling goosebumps crawl onto my skin. "Oh shit." He groans, making me look at him with a furrow on my brow. "What? What happened?" I ask, watching as his face twists in frustration. "Condoms are in the glove compartment. I have to go back in the car." He groans, throwing his head back. "It is ok... We don't need one." I state, feeling my core becoming warm at the thought of him sliding inside me bare. "Are you sure about this?" He asks me and I nod. "It is not a risky day. I need you." I almost beg, causing him to chuckle at me, as his hands work his pants to free his cock. "I will just... Push your panties aside... No one will know what we are doing." He mutters, spreading my legs more, propping them around his waist. Blindly and clumsily, he tries to line up his tip to my entrance. The only lights come from the light poles around the parking space, and of course, the projector playing the movie, so there is almost only darkness surrounding us. Luke finally manages to slip inside me, moving slowly so the car doesn't rattle and bring any suspicion on us. "Shit, you feel good." He whispers by my ear, planting a peck on my earlobe. He buries his face in my neck, nibbling on my skin as he begins rocking his hips on mine. It takes me a moment to get my mind off the catastrophic thought that we are going to get caught, but the moment the first moan slips from his lips, I feel chills crawl down my spine. "Oh, God." I mumble, finally feeling his cock stretching me, with each thrust making me wetter and wetter. "Shh, we have to be quiet, remember?" He playfully reminds me, passing his tongue over the spot he was sucking on a second ago. "Buzzkiller." I whisper, but it soon turns into a gasp as he thrusts his whole cock inside me, making me pulse around him. I have to bring my hand to my mouth as Luke backs out and thrusts in again, this time with more force than before. I bite onto my palm, preventing myself from making a sound as Luke tries to find a rhythm for us. We both know this cannot last as long as the last time did; in contrast to the time we stayed up all night fucking, we will now have to be done in less than 10 minutes. "The way you take my cock is going to be the death of me." He mumbles as I buck my hips up to meet his thrusts, trying to find an angle for his cock to hit my spot. Luke groans softly, placing a hand under the small of my back to support me. "We are fucking under the stars." I giggle softly, squeezing myself around him. "I am going to find us a house, I promise you that." He slams his hips on mine, making the car move a little. "Careful." I groan, but the way he is rocking his hips on mine makes my mind fuzzy around the edges. We have to pray the people around us are too focused on the movie, or else we are putting on a show for them. Luke brings on hand from under my back to my cheek, touching it softly. "You feel so good around me, baby." He says raspily as I move my hips in a soft circle. The top of his cock brushes against my clit and I feel myself tighten around him. I muffle a whimper, closing my eyes tightly to focus on anything else but the way he feels inside me. "I can feel you here." I grab his hand and let it press on my lower stomach, right at the nook where I feel the impact of his thrusts. Luke strokes his thumb over that spot, giving me a slow, deep thrust, looking mesmerized by the way my stomach inflates and falls as he fucks me. His hand travels under my dress, heading straight to my breasts, cupping them and stroking his thumbs over my nipples. I whimper and shudder, bucking my hips against his and taking his cock more inside me. "You are going to fuck yourself on my cock, princess?" He asks cockily, pinching my nipple between his fingers, pulling at it sadistically slow. "Will you fill me up, daddy?" I ask him back; two can play this game. I can see his eyes sparkle at my question, even in the dark night. "Shit, (Y/N)... I am going to cum..." Luke groans by my ear, making me tighten around him in surprise. "Cum, please. I want to feel all of you inside me..." I groan, my mind becoming clouded by my need for him. "But you are not there yet..." Luke protests. "You have a mouth, don't you?" I ask him, heaving for breath. Luke chuckles and looks at me amused, before slamming his hips on mine, pinning me down to ravage me. Luke brings his face to my neck, muffling himself by biting onto my skin. I gasp in shock, the slight sting of pain sending waves of electricity down my body. "I am going to fucking wreck you... I am going to fucking ruin you for everyone else. You are mine... Just mine. " He groans, gluing his hips on mine as he cums, hissing as he reaches his high. It takes him a moment of grunting and breathing funny before he cups my face and kisses me harshly. "I am going to make you feel good, princess. I promise." His voice is still heavy and groggy from his orgasm, and he sounds so chillingly sexy, contrasting the loud chainsaw buzzing that goes off every couple of minutes in the movie.

He parts from my lips and slides down my body, spreading my legs more and fixing himself between my thighs. He traces my slit softly, watching me as I still pulse from the loss of contact. He uses his fingers to part my lips, revealing my entrance and my clit to him. He wastes no time lapping up his tongue on my sex, moaning as he tastes us mixing together. I smile to myself and look up at the night sky, taking in the pretty little stars as Luke curls his tongue on my entrance, gathering the pooling wetness and his cum on the tip of his tongue. He brings the tip to my clit, teasing it in slow, agonizing circles, making me jolt at every single one of them. Once he sees I am teased to a sufficient level for his liking, he wraps his lips around my clit, suckling on it hungrily. My breath gets caught in my lungs and I am baffling between bringing my hand to my mouth to stop any sounds from escaping or tangling my fingers in his hair, pulling at his locks, and guiding his mouth where I need him. "Luke..." I whine, messing my fingers in his hair, contrasting the intensity that courses through my body with the softness of his curls. Luke hums in approval, flicking his tongue against the head of my clit. I press my lips together and roll my hips in the air as my orgasm explodes inside me, spreading on my body. I try my hardest not to make a sound, nor move too much that the car squeaks. Luke moves up from between my thighs after he fixes my panties over my core. He leans in, kissing my lips softly. I realize that I have been smiling since I hit my orgasm, but only after Luke mimics my smirk. "I am going to find us a house." He announces again, tracing his hand softly over my cheek. "Yeah, we need one." I agree, moving my tongue across my bottom lip, tasting us together. "Do you think anyone saw us?" Luke asks, rolling next to me. I fix my head upon his chest, letting myself hear his heartbeat. "As long as we do not end up on a pornsite, I am not that mad if they did." I reply and he chuckles. "Kinky... I like that about you." "You like what about me?" I ask, cocking an eyebrow. "You are always up for testing your limits." He replies and I hum. "I wish we could sleep together tonight." He sighs, pecking at the top of my head. "I think my dad will neuter you if you show up at my house for a sleepover. And your mom will probably bound me in your basement and torture me for seducing her benjamin." I giggle and he scoffs. "My mom is not a monster." Luke protests playfully. "I don't know. Her nickname was Charybdis in high school." I mumble and he punches my arm playfully.

"Will you call me before bed?" Luke asks me as he parks in front of my house. "Do you want me to?" I ask him, undoing my seatbelt. "Since I can't sleep with you tonight, at least I would like us to do it over facetime." He shrugs, tapping the tip of my nose softly. "I will certainly facetime you then. I will see you on Tuesday, won't I?" I ask and he nods. "Ok then. Talk to you in a bit." I bite my lip before I lean in to plant a soft peck on his lips. He waits until I am inside the house to take off, which brings a smile to my face. He cares a lot and he is really protective, without crossing any boundaries. "Did you have fun at the movies?" My dad asks, making me jump at the sound of his voice. He has stayed exactly where I left him, which is a little creepy. "You scared the shit out of me, dad." I gasp, touching my chest and feeling my heart pounding. "We saw the Texas Chainsaw Massacre. Not really my style, but it was ok." I reply and he hums. "If you wake up screaming in the middle of the night because you had a nightmare, I will know who to blame." He goes back to watching TV. It is not a secret that my dad does not really like Luke; he thinks of him as a devil in the disguise of an angel. "Goodnight dad." I run up the stairs to take off my makeup and get ready for my night call with Luke.

I tap my fingers nervously as I wait for Luke to pick me up. We are supposed to head for a dinner date, but I am not sure we will go through with it. Luke's car pulls up in front of me, and I rush inside, earning a look of surprise from him. "I was ready to wait for you at least 15 more minutes." Luke chuckles, helping me with my seatbelt. "Can you find a space somewhere a bit private?" I ask him, earning a hum from him. "I will be happy to..." He starts the car, aloof to my jitters.

Luke parks behind an elementary school, which seems abandoned for the day, before he undoes his seatbelt and turns to look at me. "It will do for now, don't you think?" Luke asks, cocking an eyebrow at me. "We need to talk." I state, making his face drop. "Oh. That sounds a little ominous." He replies and I nod my head. "I am late." I just let it out, dropping the bomb on his lap now. "Late for what? Do you have to be somewhere before our date?" He asks. I roll my eyes and rest my head back on my seat. "Luke..." I sigh. "What?" He asks, frustrated over my reaction. "My period is late. I might be pregnant." I explain and he looks at me dumbfounded. "Are you sure?" He manages to utter after a second of just staring. "My tracker says I am a week late. And I am never late, not this long. I am freaking out." I sniffle, my hands bunching up my cardigan. Luke stays silent, starting the car again. I feel awful in this silence but I understand he needs time to process it. It took me two days to swallow this, he deserves at least a couple of minutes to even begin thinking about it. It itches me on the inside to just ask him to say anything, but I decide to control myself. Without a word, he parks the car in front of a pharmacy and exits the car. It would make more sense for him to slam the door on the way out, but he didn't. I cannot find a way to translate his coldness and it pains me to sit here without a clue. He is gone for a little over 10 minutes but it felt a century to me. I don't dare ask him what he bought, so the car sinks in silence again.

The next stop is at a totally strange house to me. Luke helps me undo the seatbelt, still silent, and motions me to follow him. He unlocks the door to an apartment, letting me go in first. "What is this place?" I finally have the courage to ask once we enter the poorly furnished place. "I told you I would find us an apartment. I wanted to tell you at dinner, but I guess..." He replies, handing me the paper bag from the pharmacy. "Is it what I think it is?" I ask and he nods. "Luke, I am scared." I admit and he sighs. He wraps his arms around me, pressing his lips softly on my forehead. "I am too. But we need to face our fear. Or it will catch upon us." He replies, stroking a piece of hair behind my ear. "Come on. I will be right outside." He guides me to the small bathroom, giving me a small smile before I shut the door. It is such a lonely process doing this. I know Luke is waiting for me, I know that he is here for me, right outside the door that divides us, but I feel so alone. It is nerve-wracking, having to wait even a moment for the test that will define the rest of my relationship with Luke. There is a soft knock on the door, Luke's knuckles must barely even touch the wooden furniture. "Did you do it?" He asks nervously, but not demandingly. "I am waiting for the result." I sniffle. "Would you like me to come in and wait with you?" He asks. "No. I will be out in a minute..." I am too upset myself to have Luke's nervousness right now. "Ok, love." He sighs, giving up. I know he is trying to comfort me and this is the best way he can think of doing so, but it is just... I don't know if it is too much or too little.

The timer goes off and I know that I have to face the little plastic stick at last. It is so stupid that I am terrified by a piece of plastic, but I feel a tug at my heartstrings just at the thought of what the result might be. I peek at it, finding the word 'PREGNANT' on the little digital screen. Fuck. "Can I come in?" Luke asks. He must have heard the timer too so he knows the test has shown a result. I am too emotional to answer him, all I want to do is cry. How did that happen? Fuck, why did it happen now? We were always careful and we barely ever had a place to be just the two of us. God, that night at the drive-in... I was stupid enough to tell him it didn't matter going bare. Luke barges into the bathroom after my lack of response, his eyes instantly falling on me. He sighs understandingly, moving closer to me and wrapping his arms around me. "It's ok... It's all ok, love. Please, stop crying." He tries to soothe me, but it will take more than a hug and his soft voice to calm me down. "I've ruined both our futures..." I moan, my voice barely coming off. "No, no, you didn't. It is my fault too. Hey, we are going to be alright. She's gonna be apples, you'll see." He cheers, rubbing the small of my back soothingly.

My obstetrician could only see me 2 days after I took the test. Despite me wanting to rush to the first person with an available appointment, Luke told me that 2 days wouldn't hurt and we should go to the one I trust. And now as I am feeling in the form of family history and reason of the visit, Luke is sitting next to me, almost completely unfazed, as if his life is not about to tumble down. "How can you be so calm?" I ask him, annoyed by how cool he seems. "I am not." He replies, not even turning to look at me. "You are. You are awfully calm and cool for someone who is going to be a father before he finishes college." I whisper the last part, even though it is just us in the waiting room. I have been tiptoeing around admitting my pregnancy, not even daring to say it to myself out loud. "You think I am not panicking? You think I am not about to have a nervous breakdown? But I have to keep calm and be here for you. You are a mess, (Y/N)." He says through gritted teeth. "Well, I am sorry this is too much for me. I will try my hardest not to let my mess affect you." I snap, moving to a chair away from him. "I didn't mean it that way..." He protests and I hum, scribbling on the form fast.

The doctor calls me in her office, finally ready to exam me. Luke follows suit, asking her if it is ok to join us too. "Is it ok with you, (Y/N)?" She turns to me. "I really couldn't care less." I mumble, climbing onto the exam bed. Luke walks in, standing in the corner of the room awkwardly. "I will need you to take your jeans and underwear off for this." She instructs me and I nod. "Your urine sample gave us a positive pregnancy test, so I will have to go transvaginally to see the fetus. We have done this in the past, but you will feel slight discomfort when I enter the prob." She states, prepping the little wand. I feel as if I want to throw up, this ordeal has been stressing me out a lot. "Ok. Are you ready?" She asks as I lay on my back. I nod my head and take a deep breath, boosting myself for the exam. Pushing past the initial discomfort, I turn to look at my doctor as she looks at the screen with a frown. "Do you have any symptoms?" She asks me, looking at the ultrasound carefully. "No, other than my period being late, no." I reply and she hums. "You took a home test?" "Yes, it came back positive. Is everything ok?" I ask her. "Well, you are not pregnant. But you have a positive home test and a urine stip test. So my guess is there is proteinuria and that is why we had 2 false positives. I will order you a lab work for that, just to rule things out, but I think it might be stress-related." She replies. "I am not pregnant?" I ask, my heart skipping in relief. "You are not." She replies. "Are you sure?" Luke asks for the first time since the exam started. "I am very certain you are not expecting. Based on your reactions I will say congratulations, you are not pregnant." She chuckles, handing me a couple of tissues to clean up. "I will leave you to get dressed and go order the lab test. You can pick it up from my receptionist." She smiles at us before she leaves the room.

After the doctor's visit, I was craving ice cream, so Luke drove me to my favorite place for a strawberry soft serve. Since our date night was canceled from my pregnancy scare, we decided to take advantage of the nice weather and take a stroll at the park. He holds my hand in his as we both lick our ice cream as if the last couple of days didn't happen. "We are not having sex again without a condom." I lean my head on his shoulder as he hums in agreement. "That is certain." He adds. "I am sorry I was so... messy the last couple of days." I apologize and he shrugs. "It is one of the things I love about you." He brings my hand to his lips, pecking it lightly. "For what is worth, you were an excellent partner and you handled this scare probably the best way possible." I comment and he sighs. "I was scared beyond words. We are too young to become parents." "I agree. We barely have a place to be alone..." I point out. "Well, we do have it, though." He says, making me bite the inside of my cheek. "I really liked the space, from what I remember seeing..." "I am glad you did. Cause I plan on spending a lot of time in it with you." He plants a kiss on my forehead, making me feel my face get hot. "We never learn, do we?" I chuckle and he shrugs. "I think we learned our lesson." He takes a long lick of his dessert.

My Masterlist  /  Chronological Masterlist  /  The "Less than 100 Notes Fics" Masterlist  /  My Ko-Fi

[slasherhaven]

How would Billy and Brahms react to their future s/o knowing that they are living in the walls/attic long before they get the chance to reveal themselves, maybe even going as far as to explore the walls/attic in an attempt to find them and confirm their suspicions.

Brahms Heelshire and Billy Lenz reacting to their Future S/O knowing where they are:

Brahms Heelshire

You never really believed in ghosts. When you first saw that the child you were supposed to be looking after was a doll, you just assumed that the parents were trying to cope with the loss of their child.

You attributed any strange noises in the walls to rats, and when the doll started moving around you started to question your own sanity. But you never thought it was the ghost of the child, Brahms.

You were sitting there one night and heard some movement somewhere else in the house, only to investigate and find nothing. 

Realisation hit you in an instant, and you couldn’t help but chastise yourself for being so stupid and not seeing it sooner.

Caring for the doll, having to play music loud, leaving meals in the fridge only to find them gone, how the Heelshires would even know if you didn’t follow their rules.

There was somebody in this house with you.

Since you heard a lot of movement coming from the walls, you figured it couldn’t hurt to take a look. If it wasn’t a person, it would just be the rats like you assumed.

It was pretty easy for a person to move around in the walls, and while you found it a little confusing at times you still wandered through them.

You discovered all the entrances to the walls, the spaces behind the mirrors, and the peepholes. You would remember to cover them.

Finally you got to the attic, finding a bedroom of sorts.

A desk with various unimportant papers, photos and drawings.

It was obvious that somebody was living here. You searched some more, examining the photos and drawings. There was a bed that didn’t look too comfortable. It was strange, it was clearly a room for a grown man but there was something childish about it.

Continuing with your investigation, you made another discovery. It must have been Brahms that was living here. Very much alive, and definitely no longer a child.

The most worrying thing was that you found some of your lost and misplaced belongings, but you just took them back for leaving, a little worried that he might find you snooping around.

You weren’t as concerned as you probably should have been. But at least you weren’t going insane and there wasn’t a ghost child wandering around, plus it was a good job...

It’s a miracle that Brahms didn’t catch you but as soon as he returns to his hidden room, he knew you had been there. He was worried that you were going to run because you must have figured out the truth.

But when he rushes to find you...you’re just sitting in the lounge with a book.

He knew you knew...you took your stuff back, you had seen the letters and photos, you knew he was there and who he was...but you were just sitting there like nothing had happened.

So, he waits it out, curiously and anxiously.

He lays low for a while, making sure to be extra quiet, not moving the doll, not stealing things.

Slowly, he became more comfortable again and stole something of yours.

You didn’t notice for a little while, but as soon as you couldn’t find the item where you left it, you knew where it had gone.

“Brahms!” you called out in frustration, making him pause in the walls. You couldn’t actually be addressing him, could you? “If you don’t put it back where it belongs before this evening, I am coming in there and taking it back” you warned him.

Later that afternoon, you find the item had been returned with a small apology note.

He’s still a little worried that you’re going to get scared and try to leave but it really doesn’t seem like that’s going to happen. You’re staying, despite knowing nearly everything...and that thrills him. It’s all he wants...until it’s not enough.

That’s how things go for a while, at least until Brahms decides that he needs to be in a room with you and have you see him. You’ve already accepted him, right? So you’d still accept him when he reveals himself to you, surely...

Billy Lenz

You knew it. You fucking knew it. He wasn’t exactly subtle.

You had heard the noises in the attic and had thought it was rats but you soon realised that probably wasn’t the case.

And when the ‘Moaner’s’ phone calls started getting far too specific, you knew he had been watching you.

You just put two and two together, concluding that the man making those phone calls had probably been making the noise in the attic. He was probably staying there.

Maybe you had become too used to the phone calls, become too friendly with the stranger on the phone (it had been happening for a while and you just couldn’t help but entertain his conversation from time to time), but it didn’t freak you out the way it probably should. 

Things like this had just become normal, and you just weren’t all that surprised.

But you couldn’t know for sure until you saw it.

So, one day you decided to head up to the attic and investigate.

You had half expected to find the man still up there but he wasn’t, you had no idea where he got off too but it gave you a change to look around.

Somebody had obviously being staying here, the place looked lived in.

A corner was filled with pillows and blankets, a makeshift bed, with belongings and clothes scattered around it along with some candy wrappers, probably stolen from the house.

Whoever it was had used some of the old Christmas lights to brighten the place up, probably just using them as a light source.

And, of course, you found the phone he had been using to contact you. You could have took it, destroyed it, anything, but you didn’t, you left it be.

You had no idea how this person would react to getting caught but you had learnt that you enjoyed surprising him during his phone calls, so maybe you should surprise him some more.

You didn’t want to wait until he returned, in case he turned violent at your surprise visit. Plus, you weren’t quite sure that you were ready to come face to face with him yet.

So, you left a note, just letting him know you’d found his little hide out, before leaving again.

When Billy found the note, he had no idea what to do. You knew he was there and you just...left a note to let him know?

Eventually he would call you, and you’d answer with a smirk, listening to him tell you how naughty you are for sneaking around, only to stutter when you shoot back with how naughty it is of him to be living in the attic and spying on you.

It becomes a somewhat comfortable arrangement. You know he’s there but leave him be, he doesn’t come down into the rest of the house unless he knows he won’t get caught, and you enjoy your frequent phone calls. That’s just how things are for a while.

Until he starts getting more confident. You already know he’s there but you don’t seem scared or like you wanted him to leave, so he doesn’t see the problem with testing the waters some more.

You start hearing him rummaging around in the kitchen before you go to sleep, you hear him scampering about. You’ve actually called out to him to shut up before, which made him freeze before giggling to himself before running back up to the attic.

He’s not all that comfortable around people but he’s slowly becoming more comfortable with you knowing about him. He hopes that one day the two of you will be able to actually meet properly. Maybe you could actually good for him, you might actually care, and he looks forward to that.

[tonesplash]

its thanksgiving get nasty (18+)

pairing: edward cullen x reader

summary: you get bored at thanksgiving dinner. unfortunately for edward you wore sandals

warnings: smut,brief footjob, thanksgiving dinner, edward kind of chokes on corn, reader doesn’t like their family, mild injury, fingering, innappropriate use of vampire speed, technically exhibitionism and public sex?? bad dirty talk, and cousin-shaming, reader is afab and might be described as female im not sure

a/n: i wrote this in 24 hours so any sloppiness is not my fault

masterlist

(c/n)= cousins name

When you told him thanksgiving with your family would be boring, you’d meant it’d be for him, looking forward to his reaction to being on the receiving end of your bloodlines ridiculousness while you’d get dinner and a show. But, as it turns out, your family just so happens to get along with Edward much better than they do with you.

The seating situation is a little unconventional, since because your boyfriend-snatching cousin stole the open seat next to Edward before you even made it back from the bathroom, leaving your only viable option directly opposite of him. On the bright side, you had the option of kicking his leg when he’d said something to embarrass you.

 Bless his soul, he’d done his best to bring you into the conversation but apparently, anything you had to say about your relationship had been relayed verbatim to the family group chat you weren't even in by your mother. So, after the third time you’re talked over by the aforementioned horny cousin or some other nosy relative on you’re bored out of your mind.

Everyone had gotten over your piss poor table manners years ago, or were just completely ignoring you at this point because there were no protests when they’d brought the turkey out and you’d stayed slumped low in your seat like a child in church.

Twitter had stopped refreshing ten minutes ago, and when you finally resigned yourself to tuning back into the conversation, your mother was showing Edward your baby pictures again. Idly swinging one bare foot under the table, your bare toe grazes the drape of his dress slacks under the table when you get an idea.

 You’d lost a sandal earlier after Edward had pinned it under his shoe in a vain attempt to stop your pinching and dirtying of his slacks with your filthy soles. You scoot a little further forward in your seat to reach out and press your arch flat against his shin.

Edward doesn’t visibly react, just shifts his leg away, leaving yours to slip to the floor until you reach up again to plant your heel on the seat of the chair. The conversation lulls for a moment as everyone says grace, and he uses the opportunity to grab your ankle and send you a warning glare over the top of your phone.

You meet his gaze and boorishly eat a spoon of mashed potatoes, shrugging as if he couldn’t read in your mind exactly what you were about to do. 

Your cousin asks about his mom car again and when you roll your eyes Edward flicks the outside of your fibula, sure to bruise, and you crinkle your nose, pinching his marble thigh between your toes as best you can through the material.

“Well my father thought it was necessary for my siblings and I to-” 

While he talks, he's soothing the spot he flicked, playing in the stubble leftover from your shoddy shave job this morning, and the absent affection gives you the final motivation to further push your luck. You tease the seam of his left leg with the very tips of your toes, coaxing the unnatural heat of the venom to build in the crotch of his pants, the coolness of the rest of him making it seem even hotter in comparison.

He inhales on a forkful of corn, almost taking it down the wrong pipe, and you fight a smile around the bowl of the spoon as he flawlessly recovers and finishes the thought. You idly wonder if you could be that smooth someday. For now, you press further, pressing a toe against the seam over his cock, stroking up and down as slowly and consistently as you can while stretched under a table because who would’ve thought that footjobs are kind of an athletic feat. 

Edward taps insistently at your leg, harder than he normally would, and you have to hold back a laugh at the idea of him splitting the table because he can’t take a little footsie action. You press forward again, arch encompassing his hardness through the fabric, toes curling against his pubic bone when-

“Ho-oly shit!” Searing pain shoots up from your ankle, and you double over, using everything in you not to shout, Edwards dawning mortification going unnoticed as everyone at the table turns to you at your unexpected outburst.  

“(Y/n)?” Your mother doesn’t seem that happy to have dinner interrupted, and you clutch your stomach as a quick cover.

“Uh, my bad.” You snicker nervously at the sudden attention, bravado gone. Your face feels red-hot. “I actually need to use the bathroom, I think,” you lick your lips and slide out of your chair. “Lady problems.”

The table erupts in a cacophony of gags and groans as the notion of a menstrual cycle is brought up in casual conversation, and it gives you the perfect cover to retreat to the upstairs bathroom. It takes you a minute to make it up the stairs without causing a scene, and just as soon as you close and lock the door behind you and settle down to weep in peace, he’s there, jiggling the doorknob like it’s a drug bust.

“Let me in.”

You’re apparently taking too long because as soon as your injured foot touches the floor, he forces the lock and slips in, shutting the door a little too fast to pass as human. 

“Jesus! Edward, are you trying to lose our deposit?” You lean around him to check for a handprint but he doesn’t respond, wordlessly setting you up on the counter, kneeling to examine your injured ankle, cool fingers soothing to the sore skin. You sit in silence, idly swinging your other leg to distract yourself.

“How'd you make it out?” You can't imagine they’d let the guest of honor go so easily.

“You forgot your bag, I told them I’d just bringing it up to you.” He places your bag next to you as evidence. “Maybe you should start carrying menstrual products for when you actually need them.”

Of course, he breaks your foot and wants to lecture you on responsible uterus care. Edward sighs, taking your foot with the gentlest touch and whispering a kiss into the skin. “It’s only a sprain, but I’m still sorry.” 

“S’Okay.” Your face burns, not expecting his guilt. “Serves me right, huh?” You titter, poking his side with your uninjured foot. He swipes it up before you can start again, halfheartedly laughing with you. 

“Let me wrap it before you get any more ideas.” You hand him the compression wrap from the medicine cabinet, and he gets to work. The wince you give at the pressure is more reflex than anything, but the anxious expression on his face tells you he wasn't going to let this go easily. 

“Y’know…” You poke at him again. The playful contempt in his golden eyes gives you the go-ahead to make your case. “If you’re really feeling torn up about it, seeing you wow my family like that got me a little riled up.”

“Really.” Edward kisses the secured wrapping and releases you, standing to frame you against the counter.

“I’m serious, impressing them isn’t easy, (C/n) is probably shaving in the guest room to steal you from me right now, just thinking about it has got me a little hot under the collar.” You run your hands over his back and through his hair, nuzzling into the crook of his throat.

“You’re laying it on pretty thick, don’t you think?” His hands smooth over your exposed thighs sending a shiver up your spine. You think you've got him, but he's such a tease sometimes you can never really be sure.

“Depends. Is it working?” You still, bracing for some line about ‘responsibility’ and ‘your family waiting for you.’

But then his hands are under your skirt, hooking into the sides of your underwear and pulling them down your thighs, leaving them to free-fall to your feet. You clutch his auburn hair in your fingers at the shock of open-air against your cunt.

“Do you think I could let you go back to that table smelling like this?” His sweet breath washes against your ear as he huffs a soft laugh. “I’d rather not go downstairs and pretend to care about football when I know you’re here, hot and ready for me.”

You can’t resist him any longer, pulling him close and kissing him with the desperation of a woman who needs to be back downstairs before dessert. His thumb teases over your cunt at first, swirling over your swelling clit and teasing your hole before he finds a focus, using the thumb of his free hand to hold your hood back as his slicked fingers grind the bud into a frenzy while he sucks your tongue into his mouth.

It’s all you can do to hold your breath while he touches you, cool fingers building a knot in your belly, smooth and steady as they batter you up into a frenzy. He adjusts his hand, his ring finger pressing into you and bringing a low ache from rushed preparation, but you welcome it, thighs shaking with the effort to stay open for him as your mouth falls open in a shaky gasp. Edward breaks the kiss to let you breathe , seemingly unbothered until- 

“(C/n) is coming.” 

“Wha-” A particularly deep stroke has you biting your lip as you struggle to concentrate. “What the fuck does she want?”

“She’s going to ask you where I am.” His expression doesn’t match his words, still completely concentrated on ruining you despite the obvious issue.

“And what am I supposed to tell her?!” You hiss back right as she reaches the door. His mouth closes over your pulse point and you don't think you've clenched that hard before in your life.

“Hey (Y/n)? Have you seen Edward?” Her voice is enough of a mood killer that you have to shove your face into his throat to ground yourself in the moment. He adds a second finger, gaining speed, and you pray and hope to any god listening to this that she can't hear the squelches through the door.

“N-no.” You rack your mind for an excuse. His scent is making it harder to concentrate. “I think he went out for a smoke?” Nice one.

“Really? I didn't smell anything on him...” If all your blood flow hadn't been centralized below the waist at this point you'd’ve asked how the hell she knows what he smells like. He's fully abandoned your clit now, leaving it to pulse in the open air while three of his fingers push and pull at your pelvic floor.

“That's cause he unh-” You slap a hand over your mouth to stop the moan before it can be recognized for what it is.“-he vapes!” Edward pulls back from your throat to look at you incredulously, but it's a little hard to be ashamed when he's nearly wrist deep inside you.

“Oh… Well, let him know if you see him that they’re playing charades and I need a partner. You know how it is.”

You forget to reply, too enthralled watching him spit onto his unoccupied fingers and mash the coolness against your clit, causing you to nearly spasm off the counter, losing the sensation as he silently laughs at having to hold you steady. She seemed to have taken your silence as an admission, as you can hear the door at the stoop of the stairs swinging shut after her. Thank God.

“Rub your spot, Sweet, come on, we have to be quick.” He kisses your temple and laughs a bit maniacally at the little whimper that escapes when you bring a hand down to your clit. “Surprisingly, she’s having trouble picturing me in a vape shop.”

You whine around a bitten lip, too far gone to listen to his ribbing. You’re building up to overstimulation with the sloppy way you’re rubbing yourself, and he must feel it too, because in the next second, his fingers are vibrating.

“Come on, (Y/n), don't you want to finish up here and mop the floor with them?” You hadn’t even realized how hazy your vision had gotten until he grabs your chin and levels your lidded eyes with his and says your name again. You nod sluggishly for him, not hearing a word. He laughs again, smiles wide. His teeth are pretty. 

“If you cum right now;” The buzzing grows stronger, your free arm spasming under you as you support yourself. “I’ll rub you raw after on the ride home. You just need to come right now and win charades with me.” 

The buzzing inside grows too strong, and your vision goes white, pulsing in long pulls around his fingers as hot waves of sensation spread from your head to your toes.

Edward kisses you, soft and slow, swallowing any whimpers tempted to escape as you come down, abandoning the counter to clutch his sleeve as the twitching reduces to a tremor.

“Oh my god.“ You laugh, planting your face into his collar as you catch your breath. “I can't believe you used charades to make me come, I'm never gonna forgive you.” 

“I heard the top prize is a ten dollar gift card to…” He squints and checks again. “The Google Play Store.”

“Ew, what could you even do with tha-”

“(Y/N) come help with plates!” Your mother shouts up the stairwell, totally fucking up any release you just had.

“I guess I should run down to the corner store;” Edward smiles, helping you to stand on wobbly legs and smoothing your skirt down. “Don't want to blow your cover.” 

“(Y/N)! Plates!”

“Oh my god;” Your eyes may never return from the back of your skull. “Meet you downstairs?”

He kisses you sweetly one last time, pulling you close and wiping the sheen of sweat off of your face.

“Downstairs.”

With that, he heaves himself out of the narrow sill, and you busy yourself cleaning up as fast as you can.

You just catch him hopping off the roof, and coming around to the front yard. He'll hear you no matter the volume, but you still shout the warning;

“Stay away from my cousin!” 

[lacheri]

Okay so... you might not even take requests but I’ll give this a shot anyway bc I love everything you write. I fucked up at work big time today and I feel tremendously anxious and guilty. Which made me think... Levi scenario with gf reader messing up on the field? I know he’d prob be harsh af at first but maybe... some fluff in the end? ): only if you want ofc.

hi nonnie! sorry for taking a few days to write this! but I hope u like it <3 (sorry to hear about your bad day btw ):)

accidents and apologies

pairing: dom!Levi x sub!fem bodied reader

content: canonverse, impact play, mild choking, penetrative sex, unprotected sex/creampie, oral (f receiving), some humiliation/degrading, reader is clumsy and Levi is mean, minors DNI

wc: 3.2k

Fat tears sat in thick clusters on the brim of your lash line, a hiccupping sob racking your body. You were as good as dead, having possibly made the biggest fuck up of your military career thus far. Titans seemed like ants in comparison, the fly that buzzes by your ear that irritates you to no end. Levi’s odm gear sat in pieces on the floor, and somehow this loomed over you like the Colossal titan, maybe even larger.

The polish container sat forgotten on your captain’s desk, the wipe slipping from your trembling hands. Your bottom lip quivered, your lungs filling with air quickly as you slumped to the floor next to the shattered metal. Your off duty position of being Levi’s assistant was practically over, it had barely even begun. You had begged for this job for weeks now, only a few days into being his helping hand, you reflected on how poorly of a job you’d done.

It wasn’t enough you had gotten Levi’s tea wrong this morning, adding sugar to the steaming mug, thinking he’d like a change in taste. He didn’t, immediately spitting the liquid out, cursing you into guilt on the spot. To try to make it up to the ravenette, while he was on his lunch, you sat at his desk and began to organize his paperwork by date of importance. You felt pride as you finished with the three piles of stacks, putting fresh ink in his pot for his quill. However, Levi was horribly furious to see what your regret had manifested into. How were you supposed to know he liked his documents organized by date of assignment, not what was most important?

This was the cherry on top, Levi leaving for dinner, mentioning that his gear did need some polishing. Surely, you wouldn’t fuck this up, he thought as he closed the door to his office behind him. How wrong the man had been though. Within minutes, your fingers became slippery, losing your grip on the cold metal as watched in horror as it clattered to the floor, breaking on impact. It didn’t make much sense, how could it have broken? Wasn’t the gear meant to outlast a titan’s grip? Especially Levi’s trusty gear, you couldn’t fathom how his gear was now laying in pieces on the floor.

You sucked back your sob as you heard the creek of the door, your heart falling straight down to the pit of your stomach. Of course Levi would be back before you recite your apology a thousand times over in your head. You heard the thud of his boots hit the floor as he walked over, seemingly calm.

“Oi, what are you doing on the floor?” he barked out, you could feel his presence looming from behind you.

You turned your head up, his face blurry from the rush of tears in your eyes, “Sir, I am so sorry.”

His grey eyes flickered in front of you, finally taking notice of his broken gear. His lips twitched in a deep frown as he sucked in air through his nostrils harshly.

“Get up, cadet,” Levi spoked venomously, pinching the bridge of his nose with his fingers.

You hurried to your feet clumsily, trying your hardest to quell your cries from your throat. You faced him, head downturned, attempting to steady your racing heart rate and the tremors in your bones. Whatever control you thought you had slipped from your grasp the second your captain’s lips parted.

“Never in my life have I met someone as insolent as you,” the harshness of his words kept your eyes on his boots, fresh teardrops rolling down your cheeks. Levi was not going to speak to the crown of your head though, and his hand gripped your chin to force your eyes up, looking directly into his own. “You’re going to look at me while I talk to you, understood?”

You nodded, but this was not what Levi was searching for, “Your words, cadet.”

“Yes, sir,” it came out of your mouth as a squeak.

“You want to explain to me why my odm gear is broken?”

“It slipped,” you hiccupped, violently shaking under his fierce glare. “I couldn’t catch it in time. Captain, I’m so sorry.”

“You’re sorry?” he bemused darkly in disbelief. “This is the third time today you’ve fucked something up, and you’re just sorry?”

“I don’t know what else to say,” you were on the verge of hyperventilating as you stuttered your words out.

“Well, now you owe me new gear, and you’re going to personally pay for the expense,” Levi’s hand left your face as he backed away from you, sitting down at his desk.

You looked on in confusion, “Sir, I don’t have any money?”

“Then I guess you’re fired,” Levi tilted his head back as if bored now with the conversation. “You’re relieved of your military duties as well. We can’t afford to have someone as brainless as you in the Scouts.”

“Captain, please,” you raised your voice, arms wrapping around yourself to contain your shaking.

Levi’s eyes darkened, leaning forward to press his elbows on his desk as he leaned his head onto his intertwined fists, “Leave my office, now.”

This couldn’t be happening. You had no home to return to, having left it behind long before you joined the Training Corps. This was your life, your purpose, your friends were here. You finally felt like you had a place in the world here in the Scouts.

“I’ll do whatever I have to!” you begged, not moving a muscle. “Whatever I can do to stay!”

“Are you deaf or just an idiot?” Levi pushed onto his feet, striding over to stand right in your face as he spat. “Leave my fucking office, that’s an order!”

Your bottom lip trembled, and you felt so fucking pathetic but couldn’t stop yourself from one last attempt, “Please, sir. Don’t kick me out, please let me make it up somehow.”

Your brain took a moment to catch up with what had just happened as you were suddenly staring down at the wooden notches of Levi’s desk. He had grabbed your wrists in a fierce swiftness, pushing you face down, his hands now positioned against your spine to keep you in place. His right hand reached around to fumble with your belt, and your heart began to race for other reasons.

“Captain?” you stuttered, feeling him begin to pull off the belts stationed on your thighs.

“You think you can just beg me in that voice, looking like that, and expect me not to lose control?” his voice was thick with anger, but instead of fear, it tickled bouts of arousal in your lower stomach. “Answer me.”

“No?” it came out as a question, you pushed your thighs together as you felt a pulse run through your core as his fingers tickled the exposed skin of your lower stomach. “Sir, I’m confused, what’re doing?”

“Like you have no idea what you do to me,” Levi chuckled without humor. “You begged me to be my assistant even though you knew you weren’t going to be a good one. You think I wouldn’t notice, your little crush on me?”

It was true, so entirely true. Levi had been the object of your affection for such a long time now, taking every opportunity to get as close to the man as possible. If you were being honest with yourself, this fantasy of being bent over his desk was a constant distraction in your mind. He was right, you were shit at cleaning, you were probably the most clumsy person you knew, you really had no qualifications to be Levi’s aide, yet you still asked for the position.

“Then why’d you hire me, Captain?” the bratty words left your lips as it dawned on you, Levi had found you appealing regardless of your lack of qualities.

With a quick motion, your pants and panties were bunched around your knees, Levi’s palm meeting the now exposed skin of your cheek in a caress, “The same reason you’re fucking soaked right now, cadet.”

You stayed in position as Levi brought his other hand to your opposite ass cheek, fingers kneading the fat as he spread you open to his hungry view. He was right, you were dripping. His pointer finger ran down the seam of your ass, laying a soft touch to your hole, watching it flutter in excitement. He couldn’t hold back the smirk on his face, removing his touch entirely.

You whined, pushing your bottom closer to Levi’s hands, desperate for his touch. Your hips were slammed against the edge of his desk, his fingers digging firmly into the back of your thighs, pushing your legs back together. You felt a jarring sting on your backside, yelping in response as you could make out the distinct imprint of each of his fingers.

“You want to show me you’re really sorry?” Levi’s voice was low and raspy as he soothed his palm over the reddened mark he had made. “Tell me after every slap.”

You were able to brace yourself this time as you felt the strike of his hand once more on your opposite cheek, unable to contain your moans at the contact. You squirmed as you felt removal of Levi’s touch leave you, only to bite down on your tongue harshly as he swatted the back of your thighs much harder than he had on your ass.

“Don’t make me repeat myself,” he spoke ruthlessly as another slap hit your thighs.

“I’m sorry!” you cried, gasping for air from the impact.

“Again,” his hand smacked the fat of your ass again, his other hand smoothing over the harsh red blotches against your thighs in an attempt to soothe the pain.

“‘M sorry!” you were whining, knuckles white from gripping the opposite edge of the desk as you arched your ass up into his hold. Part of you was genuinely shocked over how much you were enjoying this, thoroughly aroused mentally and physically.

Levi couldn’t tear his eyes away from the sight in front him. The handprints scattered across your lower half had his cock springing to life, hard and painfully erect. His hands traveled down to your pussy lips, using his thumbs to spread you open. Your hole was drooling, Levi let out a deep groan at the sight. He couldn’t stop himself, he had to have a taste.

You let out a sputtered moan as you felt the tip of your captain’s tongue lick a stripe from your hole to your clit. You pushed your hips further into his touch, thankful he resisted in shoving you back into the edge of the desk this time. His fingers held you open and apart, his taste buds rolling circles into your clit before returning back to your flitting opening, shoving his tongue in your walls. You could feel it fold in half, almost in a cupping motion as he bobbed his head, lapping as much as he could.

“Oh my God,” you whined, thrusting a hand behind you to grasp at his hair. His palms circled to the fronts of your thighs, digging his fingers into the fat as he pulled you somehow closer as he buried his face further into your dripping heat.

You were seeing stars, in between the mix of the pain and pleasure, your brain was completely empty. Levi’s right hand left your left thigh for a moment, coming back with a softer slap, inching his fingers to your center. His pointer finger swirled your clit relentlessly, and your breathing hitched as you were brought to even higher heights than before. His thumb joined not long after, pinching and pulling at your bud as you yelped.

You could feel the beginnings of your impending orgasm as Levi twisted and lapped your walls. The burning churn in your lower stomach became almost unbearable as Levi’s fingers worked faster at your bundle of nerves, full of purpose and intentions. Levi could feel the sudden change, your pussy clenching tighter and tight around his wet muscle. Your arousal was thicker, almost muskier as he inhaled through his nose, and Levi could swear he could drink from your core as if you were the finest of wines.

At the first blinding rush of pleasure, your body preparing itself for the intense promise of release, the ravenette removed all touch. You were gasping for air, your entire body’s nerves tingling uncomfortably. You were aching, desperate for anything.

“Look at you,” the return of Levi’s palm slapping your ass was welcomed with a smile on your face, thankful for any form of touch. “Falling apart that easy?”

You mumbled out a 'sorry', remembering his earlier warning. Apparently this was the word Levi was searching for, spinning you around and attaching his grip to your hips, slamming your sore ass on his desk, shoving his paperwork to the floor. Your eyes widened dramatically, seeing Levi’s cock fully exposed out of the zipper of his trousers. He was thick, his tip red and angry as he moved his fist over his length, a quiet groan leaving his parted lips as he relieved some of his own pent up arousal.

“Open,” he demanded, removing his hand from his dick, extending his palm to your pouty lips. You complied, letting your mouth loll open as Levi’s fingers pressed against your tongue, rolling them around to coat his digits.

He pulled them out with a pop from your lips, returning his now dripping hand to his erection, covering the entire member in your saliva. He gripped the backs of your knees after he deemed himself properly lubed up, dragging you right to edge as he positioned himself.

His grey eyes flickered up, fiery and full of lust, his voice hoarse, “You ready?”

“Yes,” you mewled, your fingers wrapping around the edge of the wood to steady yourself.

Without a moment of hesitation, Levi held your legs up as he slid his fat tip along the slick of your folds. It was so wet, so sloppy, you couldn’t contain the whimper leaving your lips as he pressed into your sopping hole. You could’ve sworn you felt your soul attempt to leave your body as he slid in, resting his tip right against your sweet spot once he was fully sheathed, your eyes rolling back into your skull as the mind blowing pleasure. He hadn’t completed a full thrust before you were begging for more.

“Please, please, more,” you managed out in between gasps, Levi rolling his hips backwards.

“You want more?” he chided, ramming himself so hard, the two of you bounced from the impact. You nodded, unable to voice a single word, drool threatening to escape your lips. His fist left the comfort of your bent knees, coming up to squish your cheeks together, a dribble of spit glistening against your pout, “You’ll answer me when I ask you a question, brat.”

“Yes! More!” you strangled out, muffled from his grip on your face. He let go, placing a very soft pat to your cheekbone, almost as a reward.

“Atta’ girl,” Levi’s gaze turned dark as his eyes traveled from your eyes to the column of your neck. How pretty would you look with his fist wrapped around your throat?

The thought was threateningly persuasive as Levi found himself doing just that, squeezing the sides of your neck as he began to piston his cock between your folds. The sounds of slapping skin and your pussy squelching had you panting loudly, Levi’s fingers pressing harder into the sides of your throat. It felt so good, good wasn’t even the word to describe it. In fact, there weren’t any words in your brain at all, too consumed by the visuals of the ravenette plowing hard into you.

His hand left your throat upon seeing your eyes begin to flutter, his concern for your ability to breathe over taking his lust. Instead, he circled both his arms under your back, bringing you up into a folder position against his chest. He placed open mouth kisses along the curve of your shoulder, licking and sucking at any skin he could reach. Your ankles hooked around his waist, and you couldn’t hold yourself back from slipping a hand to your aching clit.

“Kiss me,” you pleaded into Levi’s neck as your middle finger rubbed hard at your clit, your thick slick coating the pad. You got curious, letting your hand trail further down, exploring the motion of his cock pummeling into you.

“Put your hands on my back, and maybe I will,” he growled out, displeased that he wasn’t the one bringing you total and complete pleasure.

You followed his orders with speed, his head navigated out of the crook of your neck, capturing your lips with a hasty passion. He tasted sweetly sour, the lingerings of your essence resting in the crevices of his lips, but still, you couldn’t get enough of his kiss. When his hand finally left the middle of your spine, and began to travel down to your center, you could feel the bubbles of climax igniting back in your stomach.

“Levi,” you moaned into his mouth as his fingers moved at lightning speed against your nerves, timed nearly perfectly with the pattern of his thunderous thrusts. The desk was squeaking loudly against the floor as he continued to pound into animalistically, moving it slightly with every move.

“Fuck, you’re so tight, gonna’ cum,” you swallowed his words as he somehow sped up his movements, driving you straight to your climax.

You couldn’t even warn him, you barely had time to realize you were cumming yourself. It almost hurt how tightly you had clenched his cock as the pleasure nearly blinded you, unable to hold back swears and moans. Levi kissed you harder, and upon feeling your contractions swallowing him whole, your plush walls pulling his tip right up against your cervix, his hips staggered and his knees buckled.

Levi’s brain went blank as his orgasm was ripped from him, “Fuck, fuck!”

Levi should’ve felt embarrassed at the noises that left his mouth, whimpers and soft moans exiting his throat as he came hard. It was almost too much, the feeling of your wet heat wrapping around his most intimate part, the closeness of your bodies, although still fairly clothed, had his heart hammering in his ears.

When you came down from your highs, all you could was stare at each other in astonishment, breathing heavily into each other’s mouths. He rested his sweaty forehead against yours, fluttering his eyelashes shut as he kissed you gently. You let out a sleepy giggle, your body entirely spent. His hand finally left the sensitive skin of your clit, wrapping your fingers around the back of your head as his kiss deepened.

When he finally slid his softened length out of the depths of your pussy, you were hissing at the fluttering of soreness intruding your pelvis. Levi shot you an apologetic look, kissing your forehead.

“Does this mean I can still be your assistant?” you mumbled, a small smile on your face as Levi reached down to pull his pants up.

His head tilted back as an uncharacteristic laugh bubbled out, flashing you a mischievous smile, “Get yourself cleaned up, and meet me back in my office. I still don’t believe you’re actually sorry.”

LACHERI © 2021: all writing content belongs to LACHERI. I do not allow reposts or translations. this is my only account.