#HE LOVED ME ERE I KNEW HIM AND ALL MY LOVE IS DUE HIM

[chaosandmarigolds]

sześć 🚑

EMS AU Thingy!!

summary: Simon Riley finds himself utterly and hopelessly in love with the newest medic on base, and during this EMS refresher he attempts to ‘make a move’ unfortunately he has the social skills of a five year old.

for the record you…you were a tough skinned woman, you were able to handle pain and you certainly didn’t get flustered. All the same, this situation…this was something.

“What do you-“ you groan as you get the same question asked for the tenth time ‘are you sure you want it as tight as if it was real?’ And you huff out, “Yes. I’m bleeding, I will die if you don’t get the stupid tourniquet on.”

Johnny, who volunteered to go first stares at you with wide eyes, “Don’t wanna hurt ya lassie.”

“No, I’m already hurt, I’m bleeding out from an artery! Hurt me more if it keeps me alive, what am I gonna do? Scream at you and then die? Rather it hurt a lil’ bit but be alive.” The words were snapped out and you keep your arm outreached from where you sat, you could tell he was feeling a little antsy so with a groan you stand up, walking over to your bag- you had already stripped down to your tank top to make it easy for a tourniquet to be applied and you grab the bottle of fake blood, lord knew how long it had been sitting it that small bag.

“Would you rather me be in character? Screaming and wailing-“ when he shook his head violently you nodded and set the bottle back down, going back to where you were sitting.

once again he faltered, looking between the tourniquet and you, so with a frown you lean forward, “Hurt me.”

if only you could see how Kyle nearly gagged on his water or even how the captain looked up from his phone with a more the mildly intrigued gaze. Especially the dear (odd) lieutenant, who had taken to standing behind the chair for some odd reason.

You quickly realized why, as the tourniquet tightened and the throbbing pain on your arm began to pinch (it’s not the tightness, it’s more of the skin pinch) you tilted your head back, to be met with the masked creature staring down at the…or maybe you? You couldn’t tell. “The worse part is the skin pinch, ya know.” The words were a bit rasped due to the state of your breathing, because good lord Sergeant MacTavish could tighten a tourniquet.

The lieutenants eyebrows raise, or thought they did, “M sorry. Johnny let er go.”

“Check for a pulse,” you quickly correct, looking down at the porn man, stuck in headlights, “Always check for a pulse after applying a tourniquet or a splint.”

you couldn’t feel your hand. So you had no idea if you had a pulse. And so, Kyle went next on your other arm, and he was nice about it, double checking he had somehow managed to get no skin pinch- something you, until that moment, said was impossible with a tourniquet. Then the Captain, who was particularly gentle, out and out refusing to tighten it all the way on your leg. Then came the lieutenant.

“I was shot in my thigh, I’m dying.” You state deadpanned, holding out the tourniquet for him to take. So when he took the small device you leaned back in the chair, extending your leg.

One thing you realized is that the Lieutenant was very…focused, as he was just then, with one hand he had lifted your leg up and slipped the tourniquet over, and then within another moment it was strapped. Which alone even without turning, it was insanely tight, and the leg- well those just flat out hurt, you could feel your pulse in your inner thigh and your heart began to race.

“It’s unrealistic.”

you hum, snapping your gaze to where you had fixated it on the wall, and to the man, the sound you made was…borderline pathetic, more like a shaky groan, “Lie…Riley, what? What-what do you mean, unrealistic?”

The man shrugged and then tightened the tourniquet with a 360 turn of the windlass, and you bit down on your tongue. “You getting hurt I mean.”

“I-i was on the field it hap-happens, ya know?” God, stuttering? The bar was calling your name tonight.

His eyes snap up to yours, and he turns the windlass…again, “Wouldn’t let it happen.”

There was a stiff silence and you then rasp out, “Check my pulse and then let it go…please, Riley.”

(…cringe? Yeah I know, but in my defense tourniquets hurt like a dog and this was literally my entire idea for that whole segment. So…yeah! Comments and feedback make me a better writer and person, toodles!!)

[sunflower-chai]

we’re singing victory in Jesus on sunday and maybe my southerner is showing but MAN that’s a good hymn

[shadow4-1]

I'm just imagining Ghost having a non-existent love life due to his past trauma. After much prodding, Soap convinces him to hire an escort to fulfil his needs. Not just any escort, either, but one of his old schoolmates who specializes in "the complete girlfriend package". (She's also plus-sized.)

-

"She's a right classy bird. Chooses her Johns real carefully." Soap admits, leaning against the bar top. He pulls out his phone and begins to scroll through his Instagram feed. "She's a lil' pricey, but look. She's got a private villa that she'll keep ye in the whole weekend."

Soap swipes through clusters of photos. The villa is beautiful and the interior has a rustic, home-y vibe to it. It doesn't look like a manufactured place, but like someone actually lives there. Ghost is intrigued just by that fact alone. He's never really had a place to stay when on leave. Well, he doesn't count his shithole flat as much of anything.

"She'll cook fer ya too. N' I think she's some type of masseuse?" Soap prattles on, flicking through even more pictures. It seems he was right. In one of the extra bedrooms there's a massage table set up.

"What she look like?"

Soap smiles sheepishly.

"She's not the type of bird I've seen you go for in the past." He admits before pulling up a folder of pictures on his phone. "But she's bonnie, Lt. A right knockout, I swear."

He scrolls towards the bottom of the folder, looking for a more recent picture. Ghost notices the the skin colored thumbnails as they pass by in a flurry. He already knew, didn't really care, but decides to press on it for his own amusement.

"You one of her Johns?"

Soap nearly chokes. He stops scrolling and looks up at Ghost.

"Well, um...yeah." He admits. Ghost taps on one of the juicy thumbnails. It opens the video. Despite himself, Soap blushes.

Neither man say anything else for a minute. They quietly watch the screen as a pretty cunt is being stretched out by a cock they both know the owner of. She's wet and dripping and glistening in the phone's flash. Her cunt is visibly softer, rounder, with thick outer lips and even cushier looking inner thighs.

Ghost is instantly intrigued by the sight of this woman's body. He'd always found himself in situations with toned or muscular women. He never thought much of it at the time. Ghost was rarely around civilians, and even then he never frequented places a soft girl like her would be seen. Now, in the rec-room, watching a video of Johnny fucking open this girl he realizes he's been going about things all wrong.

Johnny's not being very nice to the girl in the video either. Its apparent he's putting his whole weight and stamina into his thrusts. Ghost couldn't remember ever fucking a woman like that. He'd always had to go slow, angle himself just right to avoid hurting himself or his lovers. A tinge of jealousy shoots up his spine when he notices how the soft pudge of her thighs cushions Johnny's much sharper hipbones.

"Hm..."

"You like 'er?" Johnny asks. "She told me she's looking for 'new clients' if yer interested."

Ghost taps through even more of the photos and videos. They're mostly of her pretty cunt being fucked out but there's a few of her looking cute and relaxed in lingerie or nothing at all. She's got a decent face. Better tits though. Ghost doesn't think he's ever seen a set that fucking soft or suckable.

The last video in the folder is of her bare ass. She looks over her shoulder, smiles flirtatiously, then proceeds to shake her body in a way that makes her ass bounce rigorously. Johnny's hand comes into frame. He grips roughly at one of her cheeks and spreads her apart. A thick glob of cum spills from her slightly gaping, inner lips. The video ends.

Ghost raises his brow at Soap.

"She lets you cum in 'er?"

"Ya know I don't like rubbers, Lt. Can't stand the wee fucks." Soap laughs nervously, rubbing the back of his neck. "I jes' get a copy of my physical from the doc. Send it over t' her 'fore I drop by."

Ghost huffs.

"Here, lemme give you 'er number."

Ghost doesn't try to stop him when Soap fishes his hand into his jacket pocket. He already knows the security code.

"I'll let 'er know yer a friend 'o mine. 'F I vouch for you she'll take ya in no problem." He nods. "I think you're gonnae thank me after all this s' said n' done, Lt."

For good measure Soap texts her a simple greeting from Ghost's phone. She replies within a few seconds. Ghost's eyes glint at the little notification flash.

"We'll see..."

[aerieza]

NEW PIERCING ☆ hobie brown

⠀ ⠀ ☆. warnings — black female reader. black coded. reader has a tongue piercing + pierced nipples. praising. backshots. male oral. nipple licking. creampie. pet names. reblogs & comments are always appreciated! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა

as you watched the new season of never have i ever from the comfort of your bed, persistent knocking on your window echoed throughout the room. without even directing your attention to the shadow in the window, you immediately knew it was your boyfriend, hobie.

"you know, i have a front door for a reason, love."

"i know, but what's the fun in that, sweetheart?" he beamed you a smile revealing his perfect pearly whites and a spikey smiley piercing above them.

"whatever makes you happy." you giggled while unlocking the window to give him access to your champagne toast candle-scented and dimly lit bedroom.

"i missed you a lot, bee." you gestured for him to enter and he climbed inside, ducking to avoid hitting his head due to his extreme height.

your boyfriend was dressed in the adorable badtz maru pajama pants you got him for christmas and a random band tee from decades ago. he dropped his tote bag adjacent to your bed and scrubbed off his black crocs.

"i missed ya 'n your absolutely leng face, love."

his heavy body walks toward you, steps creaking the floor as he quickly plants two kisses on your cheek making a loud mwah sound. he got himself comfortable fast by plopping down on your mattress, crossing his legs, and supporting his head with his arms underneath.

"i stopped by 'ere earlier, seems you weren't home."

"i was busy," you said with a hint of thrill in your tone while closing the window that allowed a chill breeze into the room. the cold air sending goosebumps down your exposed body since you were only dressed in baby pink panties and an oversized kuromi tee.

"busy, yeah? wif what exactly?"

“earlier, i did a thing." you mischievously smiled, joining him on the bed and sitting at the edge with your legs crisscrossed.

"a thing?" he reiterated while smirking, cocking one of his eyebrows up in interest. “do i wanna know?”

you nodded, crawling up the bed and positioning yourself onto his lap, straddling him with your thick thighs. he slid his smooth hands across your bare skin, resting them on your ass and giving it a tight squeeze. you shivered from feeling the coldness of his silver rings all over his fingers graze against your ass. “but you have to close your eyes."

"ah, why? i wanna be able to see your beautiful face." he curled his lips into a playful pout. "that's why i came over darlin'."

"it's just for a second. i want it to be a surprise, pleaseee?”

"alright, alright fine, anythin' for you, love.”

“but make it snappy, yeah? there’s somethin’ i need to handle after this.” hobie’s voice softened and you could feel his stiff cock slowly growing underneath your body. he shifted uncomfortably, pushing his hips up and aiming is dick right in the center of your lacy panties, desperate for the friction to satisfy himself.

"and what's that?" you titled your head a bit and grinned, moving a little closer to his face.

"you.” he spoke faintly and a low chuckle left his lips once he felt your heart rate speed up. hobie's pet names for you dripped off of his tongue were laced with an addictive substance, you never got tired of hearing them.

"we'll kill two birds with one stone then."

“what’d you mean by th—”

"no more questions, now eyes closed," you cut him off and said firmly. he raised one eyebrow slightly and stared at you with a puzzled look. soon after, his brown eyes disappeared behind his fluttery eyelids

you relocated to the edge of the bed, adjusting yourself to be in between his legs like you were a predator about to pounce on your prey. you slipped his pajama pants down just enough to reveal his well structured v-line and the top of his long shaft.

“i see we’re rocking no underwear tonight.” you giggled.

"y'know, giving me head was at the bottom of my guesses for a surprise, but it definitely did not disappoint.” he chuckled and opened his eyes, not wanting to miss the pretty sight of you on his cock.

you pulled down his pajamas even more and his thick, un-cut, and well-trimmed cock sprung out, already leaking out sticky pre-cum. you took a second to admire how pretty his dick was with your acrylics wrapped around it. he was so big, you had to hold him in both of your tiny hands.

he stared with glimmering eyes like he was in a daze from watching you trail up and down his shaft with the tip of your slimy tongue, the cold metal from your tongue piercing felt like ice to his sensitive spot. his breath immediately hitched from the cold feeling.

“f-fuck. wait wait wait.. that's different."

"what is that you got? it's fuckin' wicked, doll."

you briefly released your mouth from his cock, a string of your saliva still attached. you held out your tongue and on the very tip, a shiny silver bar protruded through your tongue with two hot pink balls on both sides.

"i liked the way yours felt on me, so i wanted to return the favor." you stared up at him with your soft doe eyes, a sly grin appearing on your face.

hobie was speechless for a second, all he could do was stare at you as you continued to take his shaft into your mouth. he muttered under his breath in sheer astonishment.

"you naughty lil’ girl."

taking hobie's full length down your warm throat, happily gagging as his tip hits the dangly piece in the back of your throat. your vision became blurry since your eyes were glossy and full of built-up tears. a single one fell down your cheek and he wiped it aside, caressing your flushed cheeks as you continued to suck him dry.

he bit down on his puffy plump lip, coating it in a sheer layer of saliva as you bobbled up and down on his cock. the room echoed with sloppy lewd sounds of slurping, spit running down your chin and creating a pool of saliva dripping down his balls. you were such a sloppy eater—you swallowed his dick like you had no manners.

"you're so fuckin' pretty with my dick in your mouth baby." he groaned, staring down at you in admiration with one of his veiny hands gripping a chunk of your faux soft locs. he used his free hand to hold onto your silk bedsheets like his life depended on it. you met his gaze and a tiny smile formed on your face from watching him squirm.

his dick was spasming under the wetness of your tongue while his moans and groans got louder. looking up at his face, you saw his eyebrows furrowed and his eyes shining down at you with need.

after five more minutes of straight gargling his whole dick n balls, with your jaw being close to locking, he carefully pulled you up to meet eye-to-eye with him. he sat up and propped himself up with some pillows and you were positioned back on his lap with your soaking panties on top of his bare dick.

while still catching your breath, you and hobie's lips interlocked and you swirled your tongue all around the perimeter of his mouth, both of your silver tongue jewelry making contact and creating a clanking aroma.

he trailed down your neck, planting wet peppered kisses on your boiling skin. the heat transferred to all of your body like wildfire. he gently wrapped his hand around your lower waist and forced you to arch your back, giving him a better angle.

he tugged your tee off in a quick pull, throwing it somewhere in the room, and watched your pierced titties drop out like he was hypnotized. he licked his lips before devouring each, one at a time. flicking his tongue on your deep brown areolas, reaching your nipples and sucking on them, feeling the cold metal warm up from his tongue.

after slobbering up and down your chest, he directed you to lie down on your stomach. placing a pillow underneath your hips to keep you elevated, making him able to go directly to your g-spot.

sliding your pretty pink panties to one side of your ass, revealing your sopping slit patiently waiting for his dick. "you ready, love?"

hobie angled his hips so that his spit-coated tip was resting on the top of your ass. pulling your panties to the side, he slipped two slim fingers inside of you with ease and curled them upwards, reaching for your sweet spot. he felt you tighten on his fingers and he palmed himself while he fantasized about switching the fingers for his dick. he lowly muttered to himself, “you’re so fuckin’ wet for me.”

you nodded while nibbling on your cotton candy lips and he slowly slid his dick inside of you, giving you time to adjust to his large length. gasping at his heavy dick stretching you out, you pulled a pillow from the top of the bed and stuffed your face into it. he hissed between his teeth when he felt how tight you were around his dick.

"h—hobie.." happy tears swarmed your eyes, you panted, clawing your nails into your sheets, your brows curling upwards while you bit down on your lip, merely drawing blood.

"you're doing so good for me, love. c'mon, i know you can take it."

hobie, balls deep inside of your pussy, effortlessly making you lay on your elbows and making your back arch. the room was filled with the sound of his sack making contact with your aching clit. he hums to himself at your soft mewls into your pillow as he gently spanks you with his free hand, caressing it after each smack.

he was never rough and aggressive with your body—he didn’t throw you around like a rag doll and do whatever he wanted with your body. with him, he didn't degrade you and call you those names either. whats better is that he knew exactly how you desired to be touched and talked to for the ultimate oorgasm.

it was never just sex—hobie made love to you. he was gentle with your body, he treated it like a delicate flower. he consistently made sure you finished, multiple times at that, before he even thought of doing it himself. he never skipped the most important part either, the coming down and aftercare.

your brown irises rolled to the back of your skull and the only audible words you were able to mutter were "h—hobie." and very whiny, "o—oh my goddd's." your french tip-painted toes curled up as he fucked you with the perfect contrast of pleasure and pain.

"turn around, love. i wanna see that pretty face of yours." he rasps in a low tone while moving all of your hair to one side and wrapping his slender fingers around your neck. he lifts one of his legs up, titling his body at an angle to reach deeper inside of your sopping cunt.

you whimpered and slowly you turned your head back to meet his lustful gaze. he thrusts in and out, in and out, and your pussy sang out many wet squelches. your whiny babbles and soft moans got louder as your pussy constricted around his dick, you could feel yourself getting closer to cumming but holding off for him.

"you wanna cum all over this dick, yeah?" he shakily says. he could tell you were close by the way your body trembled underneath him and your mouth was wide open, eyes rolling back to the depths of your skull.

"y—yes yes, please!" you cried out, your sweet and desperate mewls filling the air. he held onto you tight to keep you from running away from the urgent and precise thrusts that both of you had been wanting so bad.

"o—oh my goddd.. i'm cumming!" painting a sheer coat around his throbbing dick as the palm of your hand pressed against his abdomen, trying to push him away.

"that's it, love, get it all out." he praises as you come down from your orgasm, maintaining the same pace he brought you to your climax at. within seconds, he slows to a halt, and hobie's cock is pulsating and spilling stringy ropes of his cum, painting your inner walls completely white.

"that tongue piercing is absolutely beastly, doll."

[myrunawaysweets]

Imagine a life in Louisiana New Orleans, 1920.

Your a nice little lady, dragged to a nightclub by your friend. You didn't want to go initially due to the recent murders, but mimzy just had to go for her "reputation "

The loud music played as mimzy was surrounded by young men, most likely trying to get in her pants, er skirt. Mimzy always loved that kind of attention. You on the other hand, did not.

But of course, being near mimzy meant her little fan club of boys would sometimes drift to you aswell.

"Whats a fine doll like you doin here with a tramp like mim?" A young man spoke up, his cheeks flushed to show how many drinks he had so far.

"Shouldn't you be with the rest of your troop? You know, cheering for mimzy instead of belittling her?" You inquired, not even sparing the man a glance as you swished your whiskey in the glass it was in.

"You're right..." The boy spoke "but would you believe me if I said i fell in love with you from the moment i saw you?"

You knew it... these boys playing grown ups used that same line everytime they were around you.

You rolled your eyes to his response "nice try little boy but I dont play those games, so how bout you run along and try that on the next poor broad you see?" You waved your hand to shoo him away. "Maybe you'll have better luck next time-"

A tight grip was held on your wrist making you look up from your drink.

"So your just going to brush me off like that huh?" The drunkard looked into your eyes, previously clouded with lust was now darkened with anger "do you even know who I am, little lady?"

The man's grip tightened, making you wince.

You opened your mouth to tell him to let go but before you can even get the words out of your mouth, a gentle hand was placed on your waist and another vice grip on the man's wrist.

"My, is that any way to treat a lady, young man?" A cheery voice spoke up "every gentleman knows not to raise his hand to harm a lady, especially a lady they are courting"

The drunk young man let go of your wrist. Looking up at the brunette who has yet to face you.

"I think its time for you to go little boy" the brunette pushed the boy to the ground, watching him run away until he was out of sight.

The brunette turned towards you, revealing a handsome man around your age, a tan complexion accompanied with matching dark eyes and a shiny smile "are you alright my dear?" His voice was ever so cheery, just like his smile.

"Thanks..." you replied, rubbing your wrist.

"The names alastor, pleasure to meet you sweetheart! Quite a pleasure!" He held his hand out in which you shook.

"(Y/n), the pleasure is all mine" you were skeptical of him.

"What brings you here by yourself?" Alastor spoke, his hands now behind his back.

"I'm with a friend, mights heard of her, her names mimzy" you pointed over to your short friend who was giggling away, throwing back glass after glass of whiskey, bought by her little play things.

"Your a friend of mimzy? What a coincidence!" Alastor laughed "she invited me out here but I couldn't find her, shall we go greet her together?" The brunette held his arm out in an attempt to escort you to the little flapper.

You hesitantly took his arm and followed him towards your little pal.

"Mimzy!" Alastor walked towards the blonde.

Mimzy looked up from her crowd and smiled. "alastor! I was wondering where you've been!"

"I was searching for you when I came across one of your friends who had some trouble!" The man gestured towards you "you never told me you had such a pretty gem!"

"Yeah, she's a real looker ain't she?" She winked at you "though I'd love to talk some more, I was just entertaining some of these folks" she gestures towards the crowd of boys.

"Don't let me keep you mimzy" Alastor waved in dismissal and walked back to you "my it is crowded in here"

You nodded "This kind of thing isn't really my style" you waved at the crowded place.

"Me neither, mimzy always insists that I come" alastors smile stays bit his eyes show his distaste for this place before lighting back up "say, I know this nice place down the street, what say we ditch this place and head for a meal?"

Following a man you just met into the night? Couldn't be more of a death wish... but he didn't seem all that bad, plus he and mimzy seemed to be on good terms so whats the worst that could happen?

"Yes please" you sighed, smiling.

"Aha! That's better my darling! I haven't seen you give a proper smile all evening! It sits you!" He bellowed, holding his arm out to escort you once again.

Once you left the building, it didn't take long for you two to fall into conversation.

It turned out that alastor ran a radio channel, broadcasting about this and that, more so about those pesky murders as of late.

Alastor had learned that you don't usually go to these things due to the way men look at you with a lustrous gaze, so openly at that. Instead of following mimzy on these nightly activities, you would stay home and tend to your little restaurant.

"I know it's not really suitable for a lady to be owning a business, but if im going to end up cooking for a man, might as well get paid to do so, am I right?"

Alastor couldn't agree more, letting you in on some secrets his mother had told him about cooking.

"Your not so bad al" you laughed after he had told you a particular dad joke "not bad at all"

Now, alastor was never one to indulge in romance, but the way you smiled, the way you set your dreams to be so big... he couldn't describe the feeling it left... but it was addicting, more addicting than the screams he would entice almost every night from his victims. Yes he originally planned to kill you, but after actually getting to know you, he couldn't bring himself to do it.

"Thanks..." his voice was quiet "your not bad at all either"

The night went off without a hitch, you even let him walk you to your house which just so happened to be connected to your restaurant.

"Do drop by if you get a chance, I'll try out that jambalaya recipe for you" you smiled, leaning on the open door.

"Wouldn't miss it for the world, darling!" He bowed before walking down the empty dark street.

The next time mimzy invited you out, you didn't hesitate to accept. You hadn't heard from alastor since the delightful night you two had.

Mimzy gave you the address and promptly hung up the phone.

You didn't want to be late, so you ended up being early, too early. The sun was only just setting, casting a golden hue onto the city.

You had hoped the doors would be opened but you're luck ran short on that part.

It was a chilly evening. That much was clear as a breeze brushed by, making you shiver.

It wasn't long until mimzy came by and the nightly routine began.

Boys flocked to mimzy, buying her drinks, and a few stragglers found their way to you.

The boy from the previous night came back, looking up and down, lust evident in his eyes once again.

"I'm guessing you came back in regret?" His nice guy act was no doubt gone, revealing his true colors.

You scoffed and continued to listen to the music. Frank Sinatra had such a heavenly voice...

Your thoughts were interrupted by the man yanking your hair "listen here, you harlot, no one ignores me... so here's what we're going to do" you felt something sharp and cold press against the opening of your dress on your back "we're going to walk out of here, got going to be a nice birdie and not make a peep, understood?" His breath fanned into your ear, reaking of alcohol.

Fear ran cold in your veins as you couldn't do anything but gently nod.

You trembled, making the man's eerie smile widen as you felt something poke at your back.

As soon as you got out, the empty street revealed that no one could help you now as he led you to the alley beside the building.

Tears pricked your eyes as he shoved you into the brick wall as he squished his face into the crook of your neck, inhaling your perfume, the perfume you wore for alastor.

"Please stop" you managed to sob out.

It echoed out of the alley, and right onto the ears of the man you'd hoped to see.

He was standing outside of the club, debating whether or not he should enter. Would you be waiting for him? Has he been on your mind constantly, just like you have for him? Has he plagued every crevice of your brain just like you have in his? Or did you think little of the evening between you two, and gone back to your life...

His thoughts were interrupted by your sob.

His blood ran hot in his veins... you were here, but instead of having fun, you were in an alley in god knows what condition...

He walked towards the alley, everything seemed to be in slow motion...

There, before his own eyes, you were crying, the sleeve of your dress pulled down as the man behind you shamelessly grinded into you as he pulled your hair, biting into the soft skin on your shoulder.

"I thought I told you to behave..." alastors voice was heard from the opening of the alley "especially with a lady"

The man looked up from you with a glare "stay out of this, you square" he pulled out the knife and pointed it towards alastor making your eyes widen in fear of him being hurt to save you "unless you want me to cut you up"

The sight of you being worried for him made alastors head spin with glee, but this was no time for that.

"Darling Belle, close your eyes for a moment, will you?" Alastors smile was strained yet firm as a murderous aura clouded the alley way.

You did as told, wanting this night to be over with.

Screams were heard. Alastors hands moved quickly as he used his brute strength and adrenaline to break the man's knees backwards and draped his coat over you.

bones cracking and blood spilling filled the alley way along with the sound of alastors giggling.

Before you knew it, it was over and the man had passed it from blood loss and pain.

Alastor placed his hands on your shoulders as you trembled, bruises and bite marks all evident on your body as he guided you out of the alleyway.

"Sorry you had to experience that, darling" alastor apologized like you had seen him shirtless instead of him killing a man.

It took you a while, but you eventually spoke.

"Thank you... alastor" your head leaned against his chest as you felt tears start to form once again.

Alastor was never one for physical touch, but then again, he wasn't one for regular emotions, relationships, or even human connections, yet you bypassed all of his limits.

He sighed, and held you close.

"Its quite alright darling... " this was all new to him, so it didn't conquer to him that it would be the wrong time and mood for his next words "I could never let anything happen to you... i love you..."

You froze, slowly looking up at the man who held you so tenderly in his arms in the middle of the empty street... those words were spoken many times to you... your ex fiance before h ran away with his mistress, your family before he disowned you leaving you to fend for yourself in the harsh city, and your guy friend who supported you after the disownment who had confessed to you as you stayed at his apartment, running the friendship and trust... how could you ever trust anyone who spoke those words?

Alastors hold around you was gentle... it was comforting... you had only known him a few days, a week at most, having only met twice... yet he said he loved you?

"You love me?" You inquired... no longer liking the feeling of his arms around you as they felt fake

"I love you... " alastor smiled, though it seemed nervous as your gaze made him feel like he had something stupid...

Inspired by the song "something stupid" by Frank Sinatra.

[misserabella]

SICK LOVE

perv! obsessed steve x fem!reader pt.1

pt2!

synopsis;

you catch your best friend steve touching himself and far from being embarrassed, it only turns him on even more. if only you knew he had been dreaming about this moment for his entire fucking life and that he has even planned for it to happen…

cw;

really perv!steve, dark themes, somnophilia (if you squint), breeding kink, mommy and daddy kink, praise kink, praising, degradation, multiple orgasms, oral sex (f receiving), sub and dom steve, p in v sex, unprotected sex, cum eating, cream pie, masturbation (m), voyeurism (?), dacryphilia, violence (not towards reader), dirty talking, slight stalking? (only if you really really squint), hair pulling, blood… MINORS DNI OR I’LL COME FOR YOU!

a/n; i really need to pray

for forgiveness after this…

Please, under no circumstances, repost my work on any other sites. I do not consent to anyone taking my work and posting it as their own. (!!!!!)

word count;

6k!

:¨·.·¨:

`·. lastly; enjoy!<3

‘Use me. Use me...’

Steve was obsessed with you. Not in a lovely kind of obsessed —that too— but in a really perverted way. His sick infatuation commenced a warm summer, when you and him, best friends since freshman year, had ended up staying up late in your house for a movie night. Your parents were nowhere to be seen, and being scared of spending the night alone, you had invited Steve for a sleep over.

Everything was perfect. Little snacks, the newest film in Hawkins in tape and a cozy sofa in which the two of you silently rested as you stared at the tv. That was until you had fallen asleep on the other end of the sofa, loose and extremely short pijama pants letting your lace panties show and nipples erect due to the coldness of the night underneath your tight and white tank top. He found himself stating for far too long, instead of bringing up on your body the blanket that you both had been sharing, his eyes taking in just how beautifully exposed you were.

Full honesty? He didn’t even remember how his dick had gotten that hard nor how it had ended on one of his hands, palm slick in precum as he thrusted in it, bottom lip in between his teeth and soft moans and groans scaping his lips. But he didn’t care. He came so hard that night that he swore he saw stars on your living room’s ceiling.

After that, he of course felt awkward and embarrassed of himself around you. Masturbating to his sleeping best friend, and just mere inches away from you? Jesus Christ. Though that remorse quickly went away when he found himself sinking deeper in that sickness under your name.

He relished in that pretty tears of yours when you cried about another stupid boy being mean to you and dumping you against his neck, your tits fully pressed to his chest and whimpers making his cock push against his jeans, even more when that same guys were the ones crying and begging for him to stop as he beat the shit out of them.

He liked to see you cry, but if it wasn’t because of him, he wouldn’t have it. He sent a couple of them to the ER, but they were too scared of getting a couple more bones broken if they ever spoke up, so he always got away with it. In no time, the guys were fucking terrified of even glancing at you, leaving you all to himself. Like it had to be. You were his, or you’d be.

You were always complaining about things of yours disappearing, “Fuck! I cant found my chapstick.” him shrugging even when he knew that he was, in fact, the thug. Then, he’d go back to his house and open the last drawer of his desk — which he had under key— and take the same chapstick out of his pocket to push it inside along with the other things he had stolen from you: lipgloss, necklaces, bracelets… Panties.

He loved them. He almost had a collection of them, of all types; cotton, lace, thongs… He loved the ones that he stole from the dirty laundry the most, which’s crotch he could push against his nose and lick as he fucked his fist. Getting to taste and smell your slick always drove him crazy.

Another thing Steve loved to do was take photos of you. He had albums and albums of polaroids for the two of you, being both on the pictures or just you. He loved to watch them from time to time: you smiling, you singing, you dancing, you blowing a kiss to the camera, jumping in the pool, petting a stray cat… Being simply you.

But he also had some photos that were exceptionally and just for him. Some of them were flashes of your body in those little and pretty bikinis you always wore in the warm summers, some other of your naked body —facing away from the door of your bathroom— when you changed, you eating ice cream with cheeks, lips and tongue stained in the vanilla treat, some of you sleeping, some others of the panties and little skirts that you’d wear. He even had one of you resting asleep on his lap, lips parted and against his hard cock. He saved some of them on his wallet in case he ever had to take care of a boner when he hung out with you.

He was in love with you. Sickly in love. Sickly enough to take some of those photos of yours and cut out your face just to tape them to his porn magazines. Some of the pages had even stuck together due to his cum.

And you were just so unbelievably oblivious of his infatuation that you always left the window to your room unlocked in case he ever wanted to sneak in in the middle of the night to stay with you if he ever felt lonely in his empty house. At first, before his infatuation appeared, he would sneak in from time to time when the loneliness became too strong for him to handle, cuddling with you and leaving first hour in the morning. Now? Now he snuck in almost every goddamn night. To cuddle, to watch you sleep, to be able to hold you close and even to take advantage of your heavy slumber. He had licked his cum out of your fingers when he had used his hand to masturbate, having to hold in his moans and whimpers. Other nights, he would get under your covers and part your thighs just to push his head in between them, face against your clothed cunt as his hips buckled against the duvet, tongue flattening against your heat and moaning when your thighs would unconsciously squish his head.

He loved it when you played with his hair, groaning when you’d pull from it when he’d tickle you, and laughing when you’d scream at him for using your good conditioner after a pool day. He was obsessed with your little lotions and expensive shampoos, using them as lube to fuck his hand while he showered in your house, using then his cum to fill the tubes, evening out the difference.

He would stole food from you in the cafeteria, using your own fork or spoons just to be able to have your spit in his mouth. You’d always whine about it, but he never stopped, so you eventually stopped caring, giving him full access to it when you were full.

Steve considered himself to be a man with clear tastes when it came to sexual preferences. He would love to fuck you to his liking, to sink you into submission and to get you to call him daddy. He thought of himself as a dominant kind of person rather than a submissive one, but that changed when in one of his numerous wet dreams it was you the one who choked him and fucked him, using him like you’d use a fucking toy. He had woken up with a raging orgasm as from his lips fell the word ‘mommy’.

Was he a pervert? Absolutely. Would he ever speak up about his feelings for you? Absolutely not.

He’d prefer to die with a boner than ever telling you he loved you. He was just terrified of the thought of you pushing him away or ever hurting your friendship.

So after a day full of what he thought of ‘teasing’, since it always involved you dressing in one of those incredibly short skirts or staring at him for too long as you sucked on one of the lollipops that he always bought you, he would come to his house and enter his room with a full tent in between his thighs. He would pull out of the back of his closet his fleshlight and spray one of his pillows with those little bottles of your perfume that came as gifts with the bigger version just to bend his other one and push the fleshlight in it, fully lubed and ready for his cock to fuck into, just like that pretty pussy of yours. And that’s what he’d do, fuck his stupid little toy with his face fully buried on the perfumed one as he imagined you under him, ass up and chest pushed against his bedsheets. His pace was needy, harsh and deep, from his mouth, dirty talking spilling. ‘Yeah, take my cock you slut, fucking take it.’ ‘That’s a good girl for daddy.’ Those were always the best orgasms, making him fill the toy to the brim when he couldn’t found himself to stop. Too pussy drunk even when it wasn’t your pussy what he fucked in between whimpers.

He sometimes would leave his house’s and bedroom door open with the dream of you someday catching him red handed.

But they were all just dreams, they weren’t supposed to fucking happen in real life. Yet, there he was, and so were you.

That day he had come with a really painful bonner in between his thighs. You’d been sitting on his lap for a whole goddamn hour since your classmates from class B had borrowed most of your chairs to hang prom signals, leaving you without a place to sit and using your best friend as a chair. The problem was not only that, it was the fact that you’d be adjusting every five minutes and the fact that he had found himself being completely ignored by you as you talked with your best friends, laughing with them and jumping on his lap when the jokes were too good. Well, he was not being completely ignored, since one of your hands, had found his hair and slowly massaged his scalp, every now and then pulling at his hair when you played with his locks, his hands trembling on your thighs —which spread sideways across from his — thumbs circling your soft skin.

The fact that you were using him. The fact that he felt used by you and only you, was what had him gritting his teeth and fighting the urge to buckle against your ass. But Steve was a good boy, so he just stood sit and went through that delirious torture with not a word coming out of his mouth. He felt like breathing once again when you got up from his lap when the bell rang, notifying the students that the day had ended, but still choking when he no longer could smell your cologne or felt you flush against him.

“Fuck, y/n…” he whimpered when he plopped on his bed, his palm pushing hardly against his pulsing and leaking cock, precum staining his jeans and underwear. He had pulled out from his closet his fleshlight, since he felt that his hand would not be enough today. He had to fuck himself. “Please, fuck me, please…” he was a babbling mess when his tip pushed inside the lubed toy. “Use my cock, baby… Use me…” he found himself whimpering at his mind scenario, in which you would ride him relentlessly, his dick reaching deep enough to hit that sweet spot that you’d torture to make yourself cum all over his cock. “Fuck, mommy, fuck, feels so good… Ah, faster.” he was a babbling mess, his hips rutting upwards against his hand movements to fuck his cock deeper in his toy.

“Stevie!!!” you had called from downstairs as you opened his unlocked front door. Steve always left it that way for you to come and go as you pleased. You were smiling, in between your hands a copy of a film he had been dying to watch for months and for which he had cried after finding out that it had been banned and would never get to Hawking’s Film Store. After seeing just how badly he wanted it, you had been fighting with sharp nails to get a hold on one of the limited edition copies that had gone on sale in the city’s center, where you had rushed just as classes finished and where you had killed your savings in the dib. “I have a surprise for you!!” you chanted, locking the door behind you and jumping excitedly, frowning when you didn’t hear and answer from him. “Steve?” you called out again, the soft sound of his voice reaching you from upstairs. You took off your shoes, a smirk growing on your lips when the idea of giving him a scare came to mind. Up the staircase, you were like a ghost, slowly approaching his room and mumbling, though you froze when a moan got to your ears. Your skin went pale and your cheeks heated up when needy whimpers followed up right after, as if all the blood under your skin had ended up pooling there.

“Fuck, just like that. Faster, please…” was he with someone? Your chest heaved at the thought of Steve fucking with some random girl that wasn’t you. You’ve liked him for years on end, since the first time that he held you as you cried your heart out after your first breakup. But he never seemed to look at you in any other way that wasn’t friendly, so, at the end, —being too scared to speak up about your feelings in fear that it would break your friendship— you had decided to bury them as deep as you could inside you, believing that he had to be just what he was; your best friend.

Even though you knew it was wrong, you slowly approached his slightly open door, peeking in in need to see who was he fucking, promising yourself that you’d leave once you’d taken a glance. But all that went to hell when you found out he was not fucking anyone but himself, back against the mattress, bare chest rising and lowering slowly as his hips fucked upwards, inside his clear flesh light. Your eyes widened and your legs trembled when from his lips new groans and moans fell. Steve was fucking touching himself. Fuck, fuck, fuck… You needed to get away from there. Yeah, that’s what you’d do. You’d go back to your house and forget all about it… Or that’s what you thought, instead finding your feet glued to the floor as you watched.

He looked so hot and pretty all needy… Eyes closed shut and mouth agape in gasps, eyebrows pushed together as his head fell back against his pillow, hair messy all over it. His hand was slow, pushing the toy down on his dick in deep and harsh strokes. You could almost perfectly see his long and thick dick, his thrusts making the lube’s wet sounds fill the room. “Ah, fuck…” his voice was low and so broken you felt your panties damp in your slick, you were so turned on that your free hand cupped your cunt, making you almost moan if you hadn’t bitten down on your bottom lip.

Your fingers had started to push against the lace of your panties underneath your plaid skirt, freezing on your clit when a new babble came from inside the room and your best friend’s lips. “Fuck, y/n…, mommy…, please, fuck, fuck, fuck…” your eyes widened, not only because…, fuck, Steve was fucking that goddamn fleshlight with you in mind doing so, but because he had called you mommy too. Surprisingly enough that only turned you on even more, a needy moan tearing your throat before you could push it down to your chest. Steve’s movements stopped, his gaze moving to his opening door just to see you standing there, flushed cheeks, heavy breathing and tape in hand.

He quickly pushed away the toy, cursing under his breath when he sat up, a pillow hiding his hard and leaking cock, which was twitching at the sight of your trembling legs. “Fuck, y/n, I…” he didn’t even know what to say. You had caught him, caught him fucking himself with his goddamn fleshlight, and even worse, caught him moaning your name. He felt sick to the stomach, but at the same, so turned on too. You had caught him… Finally. And who knows how much time you had been listening and peeking at him while he pleasured himself. He had to hold back a whimper at the thought of it. “How much did you hear?” he cursed when you didn’t answer, cheeks reddening and cock twitching under the pillow, leaking against his thigh.

“Mommy.” you said, making his head snap back to you, a frown on his face, eyes widening when you let the film fall from your hands as you stepped in, closer to his bed.

“W…What?” fuck.

“ ‘Mommy’. That’s what you called me.” you smirked, eyes falling to his lap when he pushed the pillow further down. “Who would think that Steve Harrington, King fucking Steve, would be so goddamn dirty to even leave the door unlocked for anyone to see as he fucks himself. And even worse, have a mommy kink.” he stuttered as he shook his head.

“It’s not what it seems like, I…”

“You what?” you pushed, thumb and index gripping his chin so his eyes would find yours. “Are you gonna deny that you were touching yourself while thinking about me? That you were calling me mommy and whimpering for me to fuck you faster?” he moaned at your words, half-lidded eyes full of lust staring at your full and rosy lips. “Mmh? Answer me.” you ordered and he whimpered, your pussy clenching when he shook his head and cried out a ‘no’. “ ‘No’ what?” your lips brushed against his, teasing him to get out of him what you wanted.

“No, mommy.” you pulled his hair when he tried to kiss you, making him groan against your lips as you clicked your tongue. “Please…” he pleaded, hands rocking the pillow on his lap.

“Only good boys get a kiss, Stevie.”

“I’m a good boy…” he was so gone that you almost laughed, so needy for pussy…

“Oh yeah?” he nodded, his tongue dampening his lips, hips thrusting upwards towards the pillow that covered his naked body. “The why don’t you show me?” he shivered when your lips latched to his neck, your tongue pressing against his skin in open mouth kisses that led to his ear. “Why don’t you show me how good you are and let me watch you fuck that pretty toy of yours, hm?” he moaned, muttering a ‘fuck’ as he nodded, making you smirk. “Then go ahead, baby, let me see.” you pulled away as he pushed the pillow off his lap, dick twitching below a pool of precum that dripped from his tip.

In the state he was… He would do anything for you. He would even fuck himself stupid if you said the word. Anything you asked, anything you wanted. Anything for you.

He moaned when you sat down on his desk’s chair, skirt rolling up and letting more of your soft and beautiful thighs show. His hands were shaking when his fingers gripped around the clear silicone or his toy, whimpering when he noticed your eyes on his twitching dick.

You had seen dicks before, but none of them was as beautiful as Steve’s. It was big —if not massive—, with a great large and just the perfect girth, large and thick enough to have you limping for a few days after a good fuck. And you knew he could give it to you, that he would fuck your hard and needy, deep enough to have you drooling over yourself as you came over and over again. You would love to drool and choke on it too, outline the veins on his shaft with your tongue and take him so deep on your throat you’d need to swallow when he came in your mouth. “Aw, poor Stevie…” you cooed at his twitching cock, red tip and tight balls. “Caught about to cum. It must really hurt, doesn’t it baby?” he nodded, tears on his eyes due to your teasing, chest rising in heavy breaths. “Are you gonna cum on that cup for me to drink, hm? Want me to drink your cum, Steve?” he moaned a breathy gasp, and you smirked to his reaction. He liked that.

Dirty talking. Mommy kink. Praise kink. Notes taken.

“Yes, yes, yes…” he muttered, almost begging for it. The thought of you swallowing his cum making him go crazy. He whined when his leaking tip brushed against the artificial hole, his lip being tortured by his teeth when you parted your thighs, panties exposed and damped lace for him to see. “Fuck…” he cursed, bottoming out into the wetness of the fleshlight in a deep and large stroke, almost cumming at the sight. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” your hands came down your body, your left resting on your breasts— hard nipples pushing against your shirt, which you pulled and pinched in between your fingers— and your right sneaking in between your thighs and below your underwear, whining when you felt just how wet you were. “Shit, y/n.”

His dick was twitching like crazy with every new and fast thrust of his hips, pleads falling of his lips. ‘I need you. Need you so bad, y/n…’ ‘Please mommy…’ ‘I’m gonna cum, i’m gonna cum…’

“Oh yeah? You gonna cum?” You clicked your tongue when he nodded, chuckling at his behavior. “Look at how pathetic you look.” he whimpered when you had made your way back to his side, standing in front of him and making his head fall backwards when you harshly pulled on his hair, making his hips stutter and breathy whines rip his throat. “Hold it. I haven’t even told you where to cum yet.” he cried when you pushed down your thighs your panties. “Fuck, you are too fucking loud.” you said and he had to squeeze his dick to not come when you pushed your damped panties into his mouth, slicked crotch flat against his tongue. His muffled begging only made your pussy wetter, his eyes full of tears that seemed about to fall when he could take a taste on just how sweet you were. He choked on the lace when you startled his legs. His eyes fell just as your free hand did, straight to your core, where your fingers dug on your wet folds and parted them for him to see thin strips of slick connect them and just how swollen your little pink bud was, hidden under its hood. “Here. Cum on my pussy.” you said, leaning on the skin of his neck to suck a hard hickey on his flesh.

You didn’t even had to say it twice, his hand quickly throwing away the fleshlight to cum all over your folds and clit, muffled groans and moans filling the room when his white and heavy gropes painted your core in white, his mind all foggy and pussy drunk just by the simple contact of your cunt on his tip. You hummed as you stroked his hair, open mouth kisses being splattered across his chest. He was still fucking hard. “Good boy…” you cooed, loving just how fucked out he seemed, moaning when you sat on his cock, his length in between your wet folds and his tip bumping against your clit.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck….” he cried out with your panties on his mouth when you rocked your hips against his. That’s all it took for him to cum for a second time, right after his first orgasm.

You moaned, feeling his dick twitch and nails dig on your ass, your pussy sliding too easy due to the amount of his cum that coated it. “You came again, baby?” he nodded, his cock quickly getting hard again to your humping. “Fuck, Steve…” you pulled your panties away from his mouth, wanting to hear his groans. “Look at you, making a mess of my cunt.”

“Fuck, y/n…” your name sounded so wonderful falling from his lips… “Please, can I… Can I clean it for you? Let me clean it for you, pleasepleaseplease. I’ll make you feel good, I promise, I’ll be good…” you pulled his bottom lip with your thumb, warm skin under your fingertips. “I promise. I promise mommy…” your thumb brushed your own lips when he leaned in, pupils blown and need on his brown thin irises. He looked high. And he was, high on his favorite drug: you.

You nodded, giving in, and gasped when he had your back pressed against the mattress in just a matter of seconds, lips all over the skin of your neck and exposed collarbones, his hands leaving your hips to bump against the bottom of your tank top, fingers so desperate to see your tits that dug too hard on the piece of clothing enough to tear it up. You moaned when you felt the fabric give out, his hands cupping your exposed breast and biting hickeys on its flesh in between groans, muttering a ‘The prettiest tits I’ve ever seen, fuck.’. You were tugging on his hair as he played with your tits, biting your nipples and teasing you for a couple of minutes before slowly lowering his lips further down on your stomach, bumping with your skirt, which he quickly discarded away on his bedroom floor. He pulled away to look to your fully naked body, hair messily spread on his pillow —the same he had fucked multiple times while thinking about you—, lips swollen due to constant biting, half-lidded eyes and flushed skin. He moaned, dick twitching, ‘cause you were so goddamn perfect. Perfect for him.

He didn’t waste time in parting your thighs —which he took his time with, and of course he would, he had been dreaming about making them bleed for years now—, leaving open mouth kisses and sucking hard on the skin, making you whimper and tug on his hair. “Steve…” you whined when he bit down on your flesh, making your back arch at the incredible pleasure the pain inflicted made you feel. He was so drunk on your skin… He could spend his whole life kissing it that he would never get fucking tired of it. But his teasing was making your pussy clench and tingle. You needed his mouth on it now. And he seemed to get it when you pushed him further against it, his hands taking your now fully marked thighs to pull them above his shoulders as he sunk on the mattress, stomach flat against it and fingers gripping at your flesh. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when his tongue pushed in between your covered in cum folds, flattening in a long strip and bumping against your clit. Both of you moaned, him due to just how much he had dreamed about the taste of your pussy —which he had tasted before, but only clothed— and you to how many times you had touched yourself with his mouth in mind. His name falling off your lips on a whimper had his hips rocking against the duvet as he ate you out sweet and slow.

It was only when his fingers found their way to your entrance that he started to eat you just like you needed and he always dreamed of: rough, needy and hungry. You were screaming his name when his fingers pushed inside you, quickly fucking the shit out of you and curving them to hit your g spot as his tongue circled your clit. It was just then when you understood the rumors that went around in your highschool about his mouth. Steve knew how to use it, really well. So well that he had you teetering on the edge in less than ten minutes. He was like a starved man, burying his face in between your thighs unable to get enough of you and your sweet taste, of the mix of the two of you in his tongue. “Fuck, Steve, I…” you babbled, thighs twitching as you pulled harder on his hair. He knew you were close by how moans fell off those pretty lips of yours over and over again. “I’m gonna cum, I’m gonna cum…” you cried out, Steve crushing your sweet spot with every harsh thrust of his fingers.

He moaned, begging for it. “Please cum on my mouth, mommy. Please, let me have it, please mommy, please…” you whined when his tongue gave just one last stroke to your clit, dissolving in the hardest orgasm you’ve ever had, whimpers against your cunt as Steve drank every last drop of it all, helping you ride out your orgasm as your sweet moans filled his bedroom.

You mewled once you’ve come down from your high, his tongue licking you clean as hips rutted on his wet sheets, seconds away from coming when you called from him. He whimpered when you tugged on his hair, pulling him away from your pussy as you sat up. He looked completely gone. Half-lidded eyes unfocused, messy hair due to your tugging, swollen lips and wet chin. “Please, just a little bit more, mommy…” he begged, needing to go back in between your thighs. Needing to taste you and make you cum again on his mouth. “Please, I need it…” your eyes fell to his twitching and leaking cock, and then, to the dampness of the sheets where he had been rocking against. You clicked your tongue as you took him in your hand, making him gasp.

“I’ll let you choose where to cum next, Steve.” you said, your other hand coming to his cheek to rub the flush on his skin. “I could let you eat me out again and let you cum all over the sheets all by yourself…” his balls tightened to the thought of it, feeling cold when the hand that cupped his face left him to fall in between your thighs, spreading you open for him to see. “Or you could cum inside of me.” his eyes rolled to the back of his head, hips thrusting into your hand in anticipation. “What do you say, Stevie? Where do you want to cum, baby?” he was almost hyperventilating, whimpers falling off his lips as he leaned on you, eyes on your own.

“Inside.” he found himself to mutter, unable to think, not when you were offering him the chance to fuck you raw and fill you up. Just the thought of it had him reeling.

“Oh yeah?” you whispered against his lips, him nodding slightly, bewitched by your minty breath connecting with his own. “You wanna cum inside, hm? Gonna let me use your cock too?” you gave him a sweet smile when he moaned, furiously nodding. Leaving a little peck on the corner of his mouth, you fell backwards on your back once again. “Then come here, Stevie.” he was fast to top you, your thighs parting to receive him there, hands on his neck when he leaned in, eyes asking for permission to kiss you, which he didn’t even need since you were now pushing your tongue in his mouth, making him groan. Fuck, he could come just with that. With your tongue on his mouth, your body against him and the thought that you were only letting him fuck you to seek your own release. He moaned on your open mouth when you took his dick to align it with your entrance, which twitched at the feeling of his tip. You needed him, and you needed him now. “Fuck, baby, please fuck me Steve, please, please…” you whimpered, and he didn’t wait to push inside in a deep and fast stroke. You both moaned, foreheads against the other’s as he bottomed out.

“Fuck, so tight, mommy, so tight… Shit. I’m gonna cum.” your head had fallen backwards in gasps, giving him full access to your neck, which he kissed and sucked, leaving new marks. He was so big you felt like splitting in half, but not in a painful way. His stretch had you delirious, his tip brushing against that sweet spot that would make you come in a matter of seconds. Your nails dug on the skin of his back, making him groan. The two of you were taking your time, him getting used to the feeling of your tight and warm walls trying to milk his twitching dick and you to the feeling of his heavy and big cock sitting inside your wet cunt, spreading you to edges you’d only dreamed of getting to. He groaned against your neck when you started to unconsciously rock against him. “Please y/n, can I fuck you now? Let me fuck you mommy, please? I need to… I need to…”

“Go ahead, baby. Be a good boy for me and let me use your cock, alright?” he whimpered at your words, and in less than one second he had you gripping to his back for dear life and losing yourself in between moans. “Oh fuck, yeah Steve, just like that baby, shit, fuck me, fuck me…”

He was just feral. Thrusting in you with just cumming in mind. His hips were pushing against yours in a hurry, hitting that spot inside of you that had you whimpering as you thrusted yourself on his cock, just as desperate as him. He was too pussy drunk to even kiss you straight, spit dripping down your chin at the messy made out. “Fuck, y/n, mommy, shit, so good, feels so good, fuck, I love it, love your pussy, ah shit, love you mommy, loveyouloveyouloveyou…” he was a mess. Both of you were. His thrusts has you drooling on the pillow, back arched and eyes squeezed shut, too lost in the pleasure, in him. You could feel yourself getting closer and closer to your release with every new deep and harsh thrust, making your nails dig up on his back, probably leaving marks.

“Fuck, Steve, fuck, I’m close, shit, I’m gonna cum…” you whimpered on his ear, making him fuck you harder.

“Cum on my cock, mommy, please, please… Use me. Use me…” he begged, and then you could only feel yourself cumming over and over again. It was all too much, but too good at the same time. So good that had your soaked cunt gushing all over his dick as he fucked you dumb, his hands pulling on your nipples and teeth digging so hard on your neck that draw blood. You were seeing fucking stars in the ceiling.

The only thing that you seemed able to coherently form was his name, which you chanted like you sang your favorite summer song. “Steve, Steve, Steve…”

“Shit, Imma cum, I’m cumming so fucking hard… Gonna fill your pussy mommy, gonna…, fuck!” his thrusts became sloppier. “Im gonna cum, i’mcummingi’mcummingi’mcumming.”hips thrusted one, two, three more times before his dick twitched inside of you, filling you so full you choked on air, your eyes rolling to the back of your head when some of it spilled out. He was whimpering ‘mommy’ over and over again in between cries against your neck, thick gropes of cum painting your insides in the purest white.

“Shit, fuck, Steve. So good…” you moaned, rolling your hips at the feeling of fullness. You were fucked out, brain dead on the cock that had just gave you the best sex of your life. You were trying really hard to come down from your high and calm down your breathing. “Steve!” Though you really couldn’t even do that, since you found your head being hardly pushed against his pillows and back arched with your chest against the duvet when he pulled you up from your ass, his newly hard cock ramming inside of your full of cum pussy. You cried out when his hand came down on one of your cheeks in a hard spank that had you whimpering.

“You didn’t think I was done with you, were you, ‘mommy’?” you could hear the teasing in his voice. “I’m sure you really enjoyed having your way with me, didn’t you?” you couldn’t really comprehend how his mentality had switched so drastically fast, but you were no one to whine about it. If a submissive Steve had you cumming so hard on his cock, how would a dominant fuck you out? You felt your pussy clench around his dick in anticipation. “Well, I hope you did, ‘cause now is my fucking turn.”

to be continued in part two! <3

a/n;

I WILL NOT, AND I REPEAT, WILL NOT SAY WHAT SUB! NEEDY STEVE DOES TO ME!!! but anyways, i hoped y’all liked this perv stevie as much as i did! love you all!

REPOSTS AND COMMENTS ARE VERY MUCH APPRECIATED!<333

[alonetimelover]

to feel fulfilled

pairing: Harry Styles x polish!reader (fem, she/her)

summary: During the day of the last Love on Tour show Harry intends to do three things: satisfy his fiancée, make granny's dream come true and put on the best performance for his fans.

warnings: fluff, some suggestive moments (nothing explicit), they are in love, okay? and granny is the total sweetheart, with Harry they are the power duo.

word count: 3,5k

a/n: Based on the anon request!

masterlist

Italy during summer was the most beautiful place on Earth, thought YN for the past couple of days, she’d been there. The house that Harry and her bought just over two years ago had windows overlooking the coast, shining, clear blue water crashing against the rocks, waking her up every day. Birds singing while sitting on the trees outside of their room’s balcony and the smell of the fresh coffee being brewed by one of the guests. 

She felt in heaven. 

“Will you let me wake up with you in my arms instead of the scrunched blanket, woman?” 

YN turned around from the balcony and smiled. 

“Good morning to you too, Harry.”

“Aghh!” Harry screamed into the pillow. “Come ‘ere. I beg you.”

With a winning smirk on her face, she slowly - teasingly - walked up to Harry’s side of bed. YN put a hand on his unruly mop of hair and brushed it away from his face. She’d never get over the way he looked in the morning. Clear complexion, always warm and awaiting her touch with scrunched eyebrows and eyes shut close, like scared of the beams of the sunlight. His soft skin glowing in those, the tattoos on display like paintings in the gallery. When he finally opened his eyes they radiated the peacefulness they seeked all the time. 

She once came to the conclusion that she loved him the most in the morning light. 

“Good morning,” Harry finally responded, clinging to YN’s legs. “How’d you sleep, lovie?”

Still stroking his hair, after countless kisses being pressed to her thighs, hips and belly she laughed and squirmed away from Harry’s needy lips. 

“Insufferable from the moment he woke up. Why didn't it surprise me?” 

“Your fault.”

Not giving her a chance to respond he hooked her legs in his arm and threw her on the bed. In seconds he laid his whole body on hers, pressing them together. Two became one. 

“Your fault,” Harry repeated, kissing YN’s lips for the first time this morning. “You look like this in the morning and want me not to do something about it?”

“Like this?”

“Yeah. This little thing.” Harry stretched the strap of her cotton top, snapping it back to place right away. “You’re irresistible. It’s driving me insane.”

Harry stretched his answer with breaks for kissing different parts of her body after each word. Cheek, lips, nose, eyelid, neck, collarbone, that one place right above her breast. He left those kisses like sweet treats for later. Because he knew that later he’d have time to do it even slower. 

“Don’t go too insane. Lots of people are waiting for you today.”

As the answer to that, Harry collapsed on her, hiding his face into her neck. This evening was going to be a sour-sweet moment. It was the end of the Love On Tour. After two years of travelling the world, putting his best each night and sacrificing sometimes more than he was willing to, it was a sour moment. He put his whole self into making it the place for all people, to help them feel comfortable, loved. But the end was inevitable and seeked. He was tired, prone to little health problems due to that exhaustion and he longed for a month to spend in one place. With his family and friends. With YN. 

“Can’t believe it’s the last one.”

“Two years. It’s been a long time since you’ve had a good night's sleep, huh?”

“I always sleep well with you by my side. Not that long of a time since, it seems.” He smiled widely, kissing her neck. “Thank you for being here. Wouldn’t be able to do any of it without you.”

“Thank you for finding me.”

***

“Babcia, what do you mean you’re not going with us?” Harry asked, confused. 

“I get easily seasick, my boy. Also, the garden needs some attendance. I'm going back home in two days. You all will have nice holidays and then come to me, right?”

Harry pouted, but then smiled lovingly at YN’s granny. “Of course. You promised me all those tomatoes and cucumbers from your greenhouse, I can’t not come. Right, lovie?”

“We’ll be back in August, granny. You’ll have us all to yourself for a month at least.”

The eyes of the lovely older lady lit up.

“Excellent. Now, let’s talk about that one secret you wanted to discuss with me, Harry. What is it?”

Granny took a sip of her hot tea and almost choked on it, after hearing what Harry had in mind. The couple was immediately on their feet, assisting her by firstly taking the cup and then carefully but firmly tapping granny’s back. When she settled down, assuring Harry three times that she was okay, they all sat back on their former seats. 

“I can’t do it, Harry. It’s impossible.” She rejected him, feeling her heart breaking. She loved Harry like her own grandchild and refusing anything to him was like stabbing herself. 

“No, it’s not. I heard it. We did it together. It won’t be any different.”

“Won’t be any different? Harry, my boy, you don’t believe the word you’re saying. YN, can you talk him out of it?” She turned to her granddaughter with hopeful eyes. 

“I could but I’m not going to. If Harry thinks it’s a good idea, I think so, too. Plus, you know that he won’t do anything against your will. You have time to give him an answer. Whatever it is, nothing will change.” 

“Oh, how those kids grow. It was just yesterday I was giving you this talk right before your recital,” granny laughed, squeezing her grandchildren’s hands. “I’ll think about it, okay? But I don’t promise anything.”

***

“Harry, can you please sit down?” YN pleaded with her fiance, trying to finally set him down and talk calmly. “I promised to take care of my family while you prepare for tonight, let me do that.”

“Yes, yes,” he responded frantically, still pacing through the room. “Your auntie and uncle are staying at the house, they’re not there yet because of the plane cancellation. Your cousins - the ones with funny hair styles - Anna and Maria - yeah, those were the names,  are already at the venue and are staying with their parents at Sergio’s house. Now, your parents are at the house with mum, Gemma and Michal. Granny is there too. Where’s grandad? I forgot about granddad. Jesus Christ, lovie. I- I forgot-”

Harry couldn’t finish the thought though. YN stood before him and held his face in her hands, stroking the rosy cheeks. 

“Shhh. You didn’t forget. Grandpa is back home. He sprained his ankle a week ago. You didn’t forget about anyone. You are the best host they could ask for, yeah?”

He took a deep breath. When he thought the Warsaw show was the most stressful one, he was so wrong it was funny. Not only he didn’t rehearse any of the songs yet he took upon himself to take care of everyone he invited for tonight. He knew YN promised and reminded him that she would do it, but he couldn’t just sit like a bump on the log. 

“Right ankle, I remember.”

“Now, deep breath in, baby. Let’s calm down, okay?”

Harry followed YN’s every breath, staring into her eyes. The calmness they provided, the stability he was reaching towards, all there, in those two little irises.

“Better?”

“Yes. Thank you, my love.”

He softly kissed her lips, lingering to put his hammering heart at ease. The softness of them comforting his chapped ones (all due to biting them in stress). He slowly, but surely embraced her body, deepening the kiss. 

YN was the only one to bring him back to reality. Also the only one to let him forget about the struggles and think about pleasure. There was no hour in a day when Harry didn’t think about her. When he would kiss her, hug her, make love to her. She bedevilled his soul and body, and he gladly took the role of the possessed. 

Screw calming his heart. Now, it was beating for her and only her. 

“As much as I’d love to keep going towards where it does. We need to stop,” YN whispered, after dramatically ending their kiss. 

“No, we don’t. Keep going, baby. Please?”

Now, he moved to her neck. To that one spot that was reserved for moments alone, for times where he really wanted to convince her. The spot right where she loved to feel his lips the most. The one, driving her over the edge with desire. Even the strongest soldier on earth wouldn’t be able to resist the temptation. 

So why would she?

“Fifteen minutes. Not a second more, not a -”

“Not a second less. Oh, I’ll use that time to the last drop.”

Before YN could scold him for the innuendo he shut her up with the deepest kiss that day. 

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by harrysmoustache, hArrysbtch and 23 402 others

harryupdates HARRY BACKSTAGE AT THE REGGIO FAMILIA!!!! the last show of tour is strating in less than an hour!!!! via italianoharry

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hArrysbtch what do we think, hitties out tonight?

comment liked by harryupdates and 16 301 others

italianoharry guys!!! he's whole family is here. yn is and here granny as well. harry was helping her move around the place swiftly

⤷ harrysmoustache i love this man with my whole heart

harrysmylife i can't wait to watch the livestream and cry for hours

harryshoee do we think he'll sing more songs????

⤷ harryonedirection i'm praying for the full best song ever!

⤷ harrysadbtch i want little freak. if he sings it, you can do with me whatever

——————————————————————————————

“He’s going to get sick. The wind is starting to pick up, he’s overheated. I told him, YN,” granny spoke in her native language to YN. 

Harry was already on stage. Three songs already done with twenty or more to go, and granny worried. Right before going to the ‘softgoods’ box, she saw him and almost cursed the stylist. ‘You are going to catch a cold,’ she said to him then to which Harry responded with ‘well, YN keeps me warm, babcia.’ 

“He’s going to be alright, granny. He is as healthy as a horse. Don’t worry and dance with me, huh?”

While dancing to Keep Driving, they kept watching Harry enjoying his last performance. The energy he brought with himself radiated to the audience. They, they were incredible. On the way to their ‘seats’ (the area that Harry had asked the guards to prepare for his immediate family) they all received friendship bracelets and gave away some. Granny made them together with Harry during their ritual afternoon tea, hoping to be able to pass them over. Each one consisted of a little note from Harry, thanking for participating in the show and being the fans for however many years they’d been. 

When Harry started moving towards the catwalk, granny breathed out in quite the exhaustion. 

“Right now, we’ll have a little slower section,” Harry spoke to the microphone. “Babcia, how are we feeling?” 

Granny looked up at Harry and smiled widely, putting her thumbs up. 

“She’s great, Reggio Emilia. Will you make some noise for her?” 

Harry then screamed into the microphone, welcoming the audience to do the same. They all mimicked him, making granny hide her face in the palm of her hands. YN hugged her grandma from behind, smiling at Harry. 

“Okay. Okay. Settle down! Now, we’re moving towards the slower part of the show. Granny, would you like to sit down?”

Granny was ready to let things go hang and tell him to keep going with the show, but YN tapped her shoulder and signed towards the ground. There was a little folding chair, waiting for her. 

“Thank you, sweetie.”

“Okay, now that granny is settled and in good hands - thank you, baby - please sing if you know the words!” 

Harry then proceeded to make YN cry by singing her favourite songs. She loved them all but Little Freak, Matilda, Falling and Fine Line would always hold a special place in her heart. Plus, he did not  say a thing about adding those to the setlist. 

While walking back to the centre stage Harry looked over, seeing YN wiping off the tears and helping granny to get up and dance just a bit more. Inaudibly he asked her if everything was okay and after getting her signature smile back, he was on his way. 

***

“Granny, I am sorry and please cover your ears,” Harry said to the microphone before the intro to the Medicine started. 

“You know,” granny started, turning towards YN. “I kept my promise and didn’t search for the meaning of this song. But I am not stupid.”

“Granny,” YN longed, embarrassed. 

“Oh, I was young once, too. Enjoy it.” But when YN thought it would be enough to make her feel warm in the awkwardness, granny added. “Maybe, tell Harry to use more complicated metaphors so I wouldn’t understand what he’s doing with my granddaughter.” 

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by hArrysbtch and 58 302 others

harryupdates GRANNY COVER TOUR EARS. Harry is singing MEDICINE right now.

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hArrysbtch and then he proceeds to sing it so slutty while looking at YN the whole time!!!!!

harrysmoustache yeah, im done

harryslotitaly i was standing behind yn and her granny and she said something along the lines 'tell harry to use difficult words to describe what he's doing with my granddaughter'

⤷ hArrysbtch we STAN yn's granny

⤷ harryno1fan idol

⤷ harryupdates we are now the fans of granny

——————————————————————————————

When ‘As It Was’ neared its end, the whole family of Harry’s started to move backstage, knowing what was coming next would be for them to watch from a closer place.  YN helped her granny move slowly towards the backstage area, holding the foldable chair in her left arm. Fans that they were passing reached for them, asking to pass on their love towards Harry. Granny got even more bracelets. 

“It’s Kiwi now, isn’t it?” She asked while going up the stairs, behind the stage. 

“Yes, it is. Then he’ll be back with us. For a moment,” YN added the last sentence quietly, still counting on granny to be persuaded by Harry. 

“Oh, you still want me to do it?”

“I do. Remember all the stories you’ve told us about. When you were younger with grandpa, the dream you both had?” YN switched to her mother’s tongue, wanting to have this moment just for her and her granny. 

“It was a long time ago,” granny said, having a sad smile on her face. “It’s been so long. I forgot what dreams were about.”

“Freedom. You’ve always said it was freedom.”

Granny, whenever they spoke of hard and devastating themes, was in awe of her granddaughter’s wit and cleverness. With each word she was proud of the woman YN’s become. Woman, that granny wanted to be. Free, happy and with a man she loved by her side. But granny never felt free. 

So maybe, after 92 years of her life, it was time to make that 12-year-old girl dream come true. 

“Here comes the star!” Someone’s scream pulled granny out of her thoughts. 

From behind the corner came Harry. Sweaty, exhausted, teared up but smiling. He walked up to the first person on his way - Anne - and hugged her like never before. Then he went to Gemma, his dad, and friends. Then he moved towards grinning YN. 

“I’m so, so proud of you.” She kissed him on the lips and pulled him towards her body, crashing them together. “So proud. You can’t even imagine.”

“I love you, my love. Oh, I love you!” Harry screamed, picking his love up and spinning them around. 

People all over them started cheering and whistling. They were used to Harry and YN being very affectionate with each other. They didn’t mind it, they appreciated how open they were with showing everyone that they loved the other with their whole hearts. 

“The piano is on stage, Harry.” Came the voice from behind them, interrupting their moment. 

“I’ll be right there!” 

After putting YN down, giving her one more kiss on the lips and forehead, he searched for granny with his eyes. The little lady was bearing down on one of the boxes, an enormous smile on her face. 

“Granny!”

“Harry, my boy!” 

He quickly embraced her delicately, kissing the side of her head. “Thank you for being here, granny. I wouldn’t be able to do it without you here.”

Granny smiled even more, “you’ve been practising your polish, I see. Thank you.”

As the answer Harry put his head on granny’s shoulder mumbling something. 

“What?”

“I need to go,” Harry repeated, looking into granny’s eyes. “I will play the ballad for them.”

When she looked into Harry’s eyes she saw the same things she saw in one’s boy’s eyes that she had married all those 70 years ago. The hope, love and fearlessness in that gaze was unmistakable. They were so similar but so different at the same time. They both wanted to give people everything they had, but her husband knew when to say stop. Harry was yet to be taught that. Both were so in love, they were ready to give up their life for it. Both cherished their families. Both wanted to make music. But only Harry got to do it. 

Granny knew that her husband would laugh at her reluctance to do what Harry wanted. He would say that ‘after all those years, you still don’t want to feel fulfilled’. He would hug her and say he understood and that he also would do the same. And he would also push her towards achieving what he couldn’t. What they couldn’t back in the day. 

It was the day she was going to feel fulfilled. Day of making dreams come true. Her and her husbands. Because he was ready to live the dream through her. 

“We will.”

Harry’s eyes grew big in shock. After the morning’s conversation he dropped all hope on doing this. He thought that the discussion was over and it was to never be brought back up again. He was very wrong and very glad for that. 

“In this case,” YN interrupted their moment, holding a hand with something white towards Harry. “I had it made just in case granny changed her mind.”

Examining the thing closer, Harry saw it was a T-shirt. When he unfolded it, his eyes shone brighter. 

“Granny, look at it!” 

On the front of the T-shirt on the white background were granny’s and Harry’s faces (Harry remembered when the photo was taken - just after the Warsaw show) with a big writing, saying REGGIO EMILIA IS GRANNY’S HOUSE and the date of the show underneath. 

“YN-”

“Look at the back,” YN interrupted her granny and helped Harry turn the material. 

There was a photo of granny and grandpa with their friends during their one and only concert back in 1948. Granny sitting by the piano and her husband with the guitar he had spent his whole paycheck on. Right there was the writing: GRANNY AND PAPA’S BAND. 

“Now, there is no time for tears, granny,” Harry whipped the tears off her cheeks. “I’ll wear this shirt and you will wear my jacket, okay?”

Granny couldn’t formulate any words. She just accepted the jacket Harry wore for the whole concert and with the help of YN put it on. Harry quickly dressed himself in YN’s gift and moved towards the stage. 

“I’ll be with you on stage, right next to you. If you want to stop playing, don’t worry. You can put your head on my arm and we’ll do this together, right?” 

“Right. I’ll play the highest notes. We’ll do it four-handed, yes?”

“Yes. I am right next to you.”

“I already gave you my blessing, but oh boy,” granny sighed. “She couldn’t have found a better man to spend the rest of her life with.”

——————————————————————————————

harryupdates

liked by harryitaly and 93 301 others

harryupdates "This is a song that Granny wrote by herself a few years ago in 1947, when she was in a band. They played one concert together before the idea of becoming the musicians was taken from them by the cruel reality of living post-war. Now, I'd really like for you to listen to this beautiful ballad called 'to be fulfilled'. I'm glad to do it with granny for the first time ever." Then granny took the microphone saying,"It's just for you, just for tonight."

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harrysmoustache i-

harrysmoustache no no no, it was so beautiful

harrysmoustache jesus christ im spamming this account

hArrysbtch i fucking cried hard

harrysmylife he's gonna pay the bill for my psychiatrist, cardiologist and whoever can heal mu fucking broken heart

harrysfan82 woah, it was perfect

harryandyn did you guys see the shirt??? it had a picture of granny's band at the back!

——————————————————————————————

Italy at night was even more beautiful than in the morning. The lights shining above their heads with the sound of crashing waves and chatter of people that were yet to go to sleep. The wind was moving the leaves against each other, making the melody of the living nature. 

And there were laughs. Laughs of Harry’s and YN’s while they were stumbling their way towards their front door. 

“And they were all - they were all like - wooah, what is happening? Did you see it, my love?” Harry said definitely too loudly, considering the time. 

“I did see it. You both surprised all of the fans. They loved it.”

YN moved in front of Harry and helped him with fetching the keys in his enormous tote bag. After finding them she turned around and quietly turned them in the lock. Open. 

“Shh,” she silenced Harry before he could make any more noise than stomping his feet against the floor. 

“Okay,” he longed, putting his hands up in no offence. “I am sorry.”

“Let's go to the bedroom. You need a good night's sleep.”

Within moments they were inside the room. YN switched on the lights, illuminating it beautifully. Harry, though, after closing the door behind himself, was moving incredibly fast and steadily towards YN. Pure lust and adoration in his gaze told her one thing: he did not forget the promise he had made that morning. 

He crashed their lips together, not caring how good it could look. He needed to feel her lips. To feel her body. He needed to feel this other - out of the world - connection they had. 

While stroking her cheek with one hand and pulling on her dress with the other, YN was busy trying to unbutton his shirt. Small buttons suddenly flew across the whole room, after Harry’s impatience got the best of him. He just shrugged at YN’s shock and went back to placing kisses across her collarbones. 

“I promised you,” he started, while slowly moving down onto his knees, kissing down and down towards the place he knew when reached - there was no going back. “I would connect those sweet treats, slowly. And then -” Harry helped her take off the dress. “And then, I’m going to slowly, very slowly thank you in the way you love the most.”

He kissed the skin over her hip bone, holding eye contact. The desire her eyes were showing, driving him crazy. But he knew, he needed to be slow. 

“Will you let me thank you too?” YN asked breathlessly, having Harry already started to put her mind in the whole other world. 

“Oh, I intend to. We have a long night before ourselves, don’t we?” 

——————————————————————————————

harrystyles

liked by yourinstagram, annetwist, harryupdates, hArrysbtch and 13 201 291 others

harrystyles To the fans, thank you for being with me throughout the years. Thank you for attending the shows, and thank you for your support. To the woman I love, thank you for showing me the way with your love and care. To Granny and Papa, thank you for teaching us about unconditional love and dreaming big. To my band, thank you for coming to this journey with me. Goodbye for now. Love, Harry xx

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yourinstagram being proud of you is a misunderstatement, you created the space for people to be themselves. i admire and love you for everything 🩷🩷

yourinstagram granny looks at papa just like that even though its been 70 years

⤷ harrystyles will you still look at me like that in 70 years?

⤷ yourinstagram to the end

annetwist I am so proud of you son!

hArrysbtch yeah, let's cry again

harryupdates THANK YOU

harrysmoustache yeah, he's going to disappear for a year, isn't he?

[procrastinatingsoicanreadfanfics]

Sweet Tooth

summary: Sergeant John "Soap" MacTavish becomes a frequent customer in your café from one day to the other, always ordering the sweetest options on the menu. You start to prefer his presence over that of all your other regulars, which is why he leaves such a large gap when he's suddenly gone for three months.

notes: don’t drink coffee, so idk which one is the best – pls don’t come at me if you hate it!!

warnings: fem!reader, smut, lots and lots of food mentions

tagged: @ghostsoapgirl @devstinyy @majesticwren @obsessiveformiyatwins @levithestripper (msg me to be added/removed from a taglist <3)

based on this request | masterlist | requests are OPEN!

When the client dings the bell on your counter a few times, you expected him to be someone rude, probably annoying and hard to handle. Instead, he leaned over the counter and gave you a bright smile.

“Could I get one a’ those things there?” he asked, pointing to a caramel chocolate slice sitting in the display.

“A chocolate caramel slice?” you replied, and he shrugged.

“Sure. Could I get a coffee with that?”

“What kind?” you asked, and he gave you another dazzling smile.

“Whatever the lady thinks is best.”

You snorted at his obvious flirting, but nodded. “I’ll make you a mocha to go with that slice.” You suggested.

“Thanks love.” He replied, handing over some cash. As you glanced outside, you noticed that it was already late. Close to closing time, actually.

“Isn’t six a little late for a coffee?” you asked him as you handed his coffee over. The café was deserted of other customers, probably due to the opening times. A regular sat in the corner, scribbling onto her notepad.

“I’ve got jetlag anyway.”

“Where you coming from?” you asked.

“Mexico.” He answered. “Little bit more tropical than ‘round here.”

You glanced around once more. It didn’t seem like anyone needed your assistance, so you slid onto the bench across from him.

“Home from vacation then?” you asked.

“I wish.” He replied.

“You’re not from around here.” You said. “Never seen you.”

“Never home for long. The name’s John, by the way.”

“Y/N.” you replied. “You should come here more often. Those caramel slices don’t get sold on their own.”

“You work here on the other days too?” John asked.

“Yep. It’s my café, so I’m always behind the counter.”

“Then I’m sure to come back.” John replied,  

~~~

As promised, he came back the next day, this time for breakfast. It became apparent very quickly that he had a sweet tooth. After two chocolate croissants and a brownie, he finally brought his plate back to you. You knew it was an excuse to talk to you, but you certainly did not mind.

“How do you stay in shape eating all that?” you asked, taking the plate from him.

“My Lieutenant’s a tough guy.” He shrugged.

“You’re military?”

“Special ops.”

“Do you have one of those callsign thingies as well?” you asked, and he snorted.

“Yeah. Soap.”

“Soap?”

“I’m good at cleaning and bad at losing, love.” He replied. There it was again. The nickname that made your stomach somersault and you grin like an idiot.

“You still there, hen?” he asked, and your eyes snapped up.

“Yeah, of course, why?”

“You’re staring.”

You knew you were blushing. “I wasn’t.”

John laughed again, stacking his empty plates. He grabbed a phone from his pocket, sliding it across the table.

“Nokia?” you asked. “Does that come with the special ops package?”

“Pretty much.” He replied. “Are you going to put your number in for me, love? Don’t wanna come back ‘ere and see the café bein’ closed.”

“Will I be opening the café for you in the middle of the night then?” you asked, putting your number into the phone.

“Nah. Just wanna have someone to talk to.” Johnny replied. He left some time afterwards, promising to come back soon.

~~~

‘Soon’ turned out to be three months. And when John did return, you were in the process of closing up. You froze when you saw him standing in the doorway. He was still wearing some of his military uniform, a heavy duffel bag in his left hand, his other holding his ancient phone.

He looked forlorn, standing there, as if he wasn’t quite sure why he’d come.

“Hey.” You mumbled, immediately feeling like an idiot. You let your cleaning supplies sink, walking towards John.

“You okay?” you asked, trying to get a reaction out of him. Slowly, he nodded, before changing his mind and shaking his head. Hugging him felt instinctual, and he hugged you back almost immediately.

At some point, he let go of you, and you carefully maneuvered him to sit at one of the tables, slipping behind the counter to make him a cup of tea. John didn’t talk as much as he normally did, and you sat with him in silence for a while.

“Is there anything else I can do for you?” you asked. He seemed to think for a while, before a hint of a smile returned to his face.

“Let me take you out.” He said finally.

It wasn’t something you had to think about, even though his response seemed a little cheesy.

“I’d like that.” You replied, and his smile widened a bit more.

He texted you the next morning, using abbreviations that you were sure no one else on the planet was using. It was an invite to an Italian place, one that was near your café and you knew was good. So much so that it made your stomach rumble at the thought of going there tonight.

For once, you were the one walking towards John, who was already sitting at a small table, tucked away in a corner of the restaurant.

As you approached him, John stood up to greet you with a warm smile. He pulled out your chair for you and you sat down, feeling your heart flutter at the gesture.

You both ordered your meals and began to chat about anything and everything. Even though you thought it impossible, John still managed to order the sweetest main course on the menu.

John told you about some of his experiences in the military, repeating over and over how he was leaving out the redacted parts, but you still found yourself hanging onto every word.

As the night wore on, you found yourself feeling more and more drawn to him. There was something about him that just made you feel comfortable and safe. And his easy laughter and charming personality didn't hurt either. When it came to the check, John insisted to pay, arguing that it was just him making up for his tips at the cafe (which had already been more than generous).

And as if that hadn’t been enough, John walked you back to your café after dinner. When the sidewalk became slimmer and slimmer, you felt your knuckles brush against his. You weren’t bold enough to grab his hand, but Johnny seemed to notice your hesitation, gently grabbing your hand.

“I hope it’s not too sweaty.” You said sheepishly, and John laughed, shaking his head.

“Woulda probably been my hand, if anything.” He replied.

“You know you don’t have to walk me to the café, right?” you asked softly. He shook his head in response.

“My Ma would kill me if I didn’t.” John said.

When you reached the door, he turned to face you and placed a gentle kiss on your lips. There was a moment of thick silence, before he cleared his throat.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” He said, his words only half a statement.

“The café’s closed.” You told him, knocking against the glass where the opening times were displayed.

“After tomorrow, then?” Johnny asked, and you nodded. He pulled you into a quick hug, before turning to leave. For a moment, you debated what to do-

“Fuck it.” You mumbled, grabbing his hand. John turned around, and before you could overthink your decision even more, you pulled him in for a kiss. A not-so-sweet or gentle one this time.

He pulled you so close your feet barely touched the ground. When you broke the kiss, he had a wide smile on his face.

“What was that for?” he asked.

“Didn’t want you to go.” You admitted with a shrug.

“That’s one way o’ doin’ it.” He laughed, before he pulled you back in.

Almost in a flurry, you pulled him around the coffeeshop and up the stairs behind the building, into your apartment. Soap kicked the door shut behind him, lifting you up into the air. Your legs wrapped around his waist automatically.

Maybe you should have told him where the bedroom was, because Johnny seemed to halt for a moment. Before you could say something to him, he set you down on your kitchen table, his mouth finding your mouth.

As you felt a warmth spread through your stomach, his hands began to brush over your thighs, grabbing them with large hands, almost as if he was asking for your permission. His touch, even through clothed legs, made you feel dizzy, and a small moan escaped your mouth as his lips found yours again.

Eventually, the tension became too much to bear, and your hands slipped down towards his pants. Already, he was straining against the fabric, and that made you feel even dizzier, even more incoherent. All words left your brain, leaving your mind fuzzy.

Still, your hands worked on their own, slowly opening his pants. Johnny groaned in response, encouraging you to continue. Through the fabric of his boxers, you palmed his dick, and he leaned into your touch, pulling you even closer to him, towards the edge of the table.

Suddenly, there is a sense of frenzy that hadn’t been there before, a rush of taking off clothes. Your apartment was still dark, but when Johnny took off his shirt, kicking his pants to the ground, you could finally feel him. The strength that seemed to run through his muscles and lied right under his skin might have scared you, but right now, it was exhilarating.

Your own shirt was flung somewhere in your kitchen, your pants pooling under the table as Johnny pushed himself between your legs, his hands wandering downwards until-

“You’re so…” he began, trailing off. His fingers trailed up the insides of your thighs, setting your skin on fire, until they found your cunt. Quickly, he spit on his fingers, before beginning to rub your clit. Your head fell onto his shoulder, a groan leaving you. His mouth still on your neck, his fingers entered you.

He moved slowly at first, letting you accommodate before he sped up his movements, finding that spot inside of you that made you scream. Instinctually, your mouth found his shoulder, biting down. He seemed to like the pain, a loud moan escaping his mouth. You swore you could feel him smirk.

When your mouth left his shoulder, his hand shot up, holding your neck as his other hand began moving eratically. Inside of you, you could feel an orgasm building. You must have begged Soap for something, because his other hand slipped into you again, fingers crooking up.

You swore you saw stars. It sounded like a cliché, like something that would never happen to you, but you did.

“Can I?” he asked after a moment, his hand still on your thigh. Taking a breath, you nodded. With that, his boxers were gone as well, and Johnny lifted you up, slipping into you slowly. There was a small stretch, but you had already come once and he took his time with you, again.

Slowly, Johnny began to move, looking at you for any signs of discomfort, but as another moan feel from your mouth, he kissed you again, moving his lips against yours as if he was a drowning man and you air keeping him alive.

“Can I fuck you against the wall?” he asked, his tone almost begging, and that stoked something inside of you.

“Please.” You replied, gasping as he picked you up, carrying you again. All the while, Johnny stayed inside of you, until your back hit a wall of your apartment. It didn’t matter which one, only that Johnny was still moving, still making you feel good.

Johnny seemed to be able to read your mind, fulfilling your every need. His hands were all over you, palming your breasts, stroking along your curves, holding you close. He made you feel beautiful.

Your own hands were grappling to find something to hold onto. At some point, your nails dug into his back, raking downwards. You attempted to be gentle at first, but he spurred you on, asking you for more, almost begging. He liked pain, you realized.

And so, you increased the pressure when you felt like it. When Johnny thrust into you, you raked your nails down his skin, so harshly that you thought they would draw blood.

Your second orgasm took you by surprise, and it was good that Soap was holding you up, because you knew that your legs were shaking too hard to hold your weight. He followed soon after, pulling you even closer, his arms wrapping around your body.

Afterwards, he set you down on your sofa, helping you clean yourself up.

“Your legs are a little shaky.” He noted smugly.

You huffed in response. “I think your arms aren’t doing too well either.”

Johnny laughed, handing you a glass of water as he dropped onto the sofa next to you.

“Seems like you really like Italian cuisine.” He said, and you laughed, letting your head drop onto his shoulder.

“Maybe I just like Scots.” You replied.

Johnny rolled his eyes, but he pulled you into his arms again.

“You really like hugs, huh?” you noticed. Johnny smiled, nodding almost bashfully.

“Are we doing this again? He asked.

You looked up at him. “The hugging part, the eating part or the fucking part?”

“All of the above?” he asked. When you agreed, Johnny kissed you again, taking his time with you until you felt your heart speed up.

“Oh god, if you don’t stop we’ll have to go for a second round.” You groaned.

Johnny smirked. “I wouldn’t mind that.”

[allyheart707]

Are you still taking art prompts?

I had an idea! It would be fun to see a little crossover between your fic and your comic!

Ex: Due to some cosmic glitch, Leo connects with LS Donnie instead of EDHPMW (tricky acronym lol) Donnie. Confusion ensues.

Leo: Where's Donnie..?

LS Donnie: I'll do you one better, WHO is Donnie?

Anyway, no pressure. Love to see your updates!

- Later, in a different universe -

Donatello. It was a name that felt as if it had been stuck on the tip of his tongue the second Carol had brought up naming them. He wasn’t sure why it felt so right, or where the warm feeling came from- like a dream long forgotten, but it was the perfect name. Raph, the snapping turtle, had insisted that he was their brother and this name was the second piece of evidence that pointed towards that possibility. The first one, of course, was him being a mutant turtle. 

He still wasn’t sure he could trust the two strangers- especially the other one… Heishi. He had been nothing but a menace since he arrived. It seemed he was trying to get them in trouble. Currently, the slider was desperately trying to convince his brother- Michelangelo- to further break their bed. 

“If we pull this part off here I bet I could use it to make a weapon! Now that would be a distraction!” He pushed Mikey, who looked to his brother for the answers. 

Donnie shook his head- that would almost certainly get them in way more trouble than it was worth. Plus, they just wanted to go outside, not to hurt anyone. Mikey frowned, but turned back to Heishi and shook his head.

“Nu-uh, mm sorry, but they would get really mad if we broke our bed.” Mikey answered, making Heishi groan.

“Hmmm, welllll… what if I promise to show you all my cool warrior moves?” Donnie knew exactly how this would turn out, and groaned as his brother let out an excited squeal.

“REALLY?” He gasped, and Heishi gave him a big grin.

It did not take much to break his little brother, who thought on the new deal for only a second before giving in and nodding.

“Okay! But only if you do it on my bro’s bed- er… Dee’s bed! He likes his bed cuz the cameras can’t see it!” He whispered the last part as he pointed to the bottom bunk where Donatello currently sat, staring at the both of them in disappointment.

“You're going to get us all in trouble, you know.” He offered, but Heishi was already yanking on the middle rung to their bunk, attempting to pull it from the bed.

“Yeah! An’ what if they put those handcuffs on you again?! Or worse?” Raph added, making Donnie nod- at least someone had some sense.

Of course, his brother and Heishi were not listening- both now on his bed, pulling against the rung until there was a resounding C R A C K and they both tumbled backwards- the wooden rung now in their hands. Ugh.

“AH-HA! Now this is a plan!” Heishi shouted triumphantly, holding up the splintered remains of their bunk as if it was something spectacular.

Donnie turned and flopped against his pillow- refusing to see the end of this. ‘Will they fix our bunk?’ He wasn’t sure. When the light broke a few weeks ago- they fixed that but… him and his brother have never broken anything on purpose before. ‘They took away our books… would they take away their papers next? Or their bunk? That is what they broke so what if-’ Donnie shook his head, burrowing it further into his pillow- 

‘no, Carol wouldn’t let them take their bunk. Plus, how would they fit it through the door? It wouldn’t fit!’

‘... wait… how did it get into the room? … was it always here?’ Donnie lost himself to his thoughts as he watched the large snapping turtle pace back and forth at the door and attempted to ignore the delighted chattering between his brother and Heishi.

“Master Draxum says I'm too ‘small and weak’ for big weapons… but he does let me use a wooden sword sometimes! I’m really good with it too!” His words were followed by whooshing sounds and Donnie's bed bobbing up and down with each thrust of Heishi’s “sword”- making Mikey gasp in excitement. Even Raph seemed to be a little impressed, stopping his pacing to watch, big eyes wide in a mixture of nervousness and awe. That only fueled the fire in Heishi. Ughhhh. Curiosity got the best of Donnie and he finally decided to turn his head to watch the ‘greatest warrior’ swing his ‘sword’ around.

He couldn’t stand on the bed without hitting his head, so instead he was moving around on his knees- despite that rather awkward position, he was keeping himself upright which was already a little impressive. He moved with surprising speed, twisting his arms and slashing the sword about as if fighting some imaginary enemy. Every time Donnie thought he would hit the wall or one of the bedposts he would pull away just in time and begin another set of random exercises. 

It was… a little … cool.

Then, as Donnie tried his best to cool his expressions and Heishi swung upwards for what looked like a finishing blow, that the sword exploded in blue light. Heishi screamed, throwing the sword and hitting his shell against the wall as they all stared wide eyed at the bright blue that danced over the sharp wooden stick.

-Meanwhile-

-To Be Continued- (??? If people are interested.)

I thought it would be fun that, for the crossover, they switched media! My comic being written, and my fic being in comic format! :DD

I was so nervous to post this and kinda went blind re-reading it over and over again soooo there are probably grammar/spelling errors I missed. Sorry about that- I might go through and edit them later?

[bigboywtheskullface]

Big Guy

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x plussize!civilian!reader

Warnings: Mentions of blood, non-serious injury, m!body image issues, and allusion to smut but none to be found here (yet). Angsty behind the veil of fluff.

Word Count: 1,772

Reading time: ≈ 6 mins.

A/N: Hi friends!! This is my first writing for Ghost and I’m so happy to be a part of the COD fandom. Looking at Simon Riley… love at first sight man. I’m a big girl who loves big boys. I will often be writing with a plus-sized reader in mind, but will make sure I always include that in the description OR warnings if body size is a large part of the narrative. 

Hope you all enjoy the read and feel free to send in requests <3 Always been one of my favorite parts of writing fics on Tumblr.org.

Anywho— happy reading!!!

Ghost liked being a big guy. After the awkward teen phase, after he’d truly grown into himself, he’d never had a single issue with how he was built. Thick, muscle and fat, broad frame, imposing figure. It served him well as a soldier. Out in the real world, things weren’t always sized to fit him, but on a military base, everything felt just right. Big friends, big clothes, big guns, big cars, big wars. He was a legend of sorts. It was hard not to love how enemies knew his name. Hard not to love how they feared the legend of the giant in all black, a mask obscuring his face. Ghost loved that. Ghost was more than happy to be a machine, a legend, an armored weapon that few had ever managed to crack the shell of.

But Simon… Simon was cursing himself right now. As tears welled up in your eyes you did your best to blink them back, attempting to keep a smile on your face for him, though anyone could see plain as day that it was more of a grimace.

You two had just been joking around. He’d been lying face down on the mattress, buried in the pillows, playfully dodging your kisses. You were lying on top of him, wandering hands looking for his only ticklish spot that you swore moved every day. It didn’t, you were just normally bad at finding it. But today, you’d managed to find it immediately. He’d jerked in surprise and you bucked on top of him, the back of his head met the front of your face. It had all happened so fast. He’d just reacted too quickly. He’d lost his cool.

“Shit, shit, shit…” He swore under his breath, his hand cupping the back of your neck as you held one hand over your nose, blood leaking through your fingers. “Fuck, Love, I’m so sorry—“ He jumped up, the bead creaking as it was released from his weight, causing you to bounce a bit, your hand bumping your nose not too gently due to the surprise movement causing you to let out a little whimper. “Fuck—“ He swears once more, “Sorry, I just…” He dashes to the bathroom, grabbing one of the white towels so you could easily bleach away the stains later.

As he came back into the bedroom you took in a deep breath and pleaded, “Si, relax. It’s just a nosebleed—“

“We don’t know that… I might’ve broken your nose.” He objects, walking over and demanding, “Move your hand n’ tilt your head up for a minute. Lemme’ see.”

Only after he’s positioned the towel beneath your nose do you move your hand away, holding it to your side, attempting to keep blood off the comforter. Simon grimaces and as gently as possible brings the rag to your face, “Not broken, just… just keep your head down like that for me. We’ll check again in a few minutes and go to the ER if it ain’t stopped.” He gives a frustrated sort of huff and drops to his knees on the floor in front of you, watching a tear slide down your cheek. He wipes it away gently with his free hand as he lets loose another, “Fuck…”

Clumsy fuckin’ oaf he was. Too big for his own damn good… certainly too big for your own good. You’d only been together a little over six months now, but sometimes he wondered how you dealt with it. His looming presence in the smaller quarters of your apartment. In this place, he was damn near useless. Hell, he could hardly turn around in your little kitchenette. There have been many instances of spilled drinks and shattered dishes because of it. Forget any romantic evenings in the bathtub or shower that you so often tried to sway him into. Those facilities were barely big enough for him alone. He didn’t want to crush you or cause some stupid accident like this. Even watching a movie comfortably on the couch seemed to be a monumental task. It always took you ages to settle yourself around him comfortably. 

He winced at the thought. He wanted you to be comfortable around him.

You place your hand over his own and look up at him softly, and with a congested voice do your best to reassure him, “Simon, I am okay.”

“S’not okay.” He grumbles, anger laced into his words. While it’s a rough tone, you know it’s not directed at you. “Fuckin’ idiot. I wasn’t paying attention and you got hurt…” Worry washes over his face, replacing the anger once more as he wipes away another tear, “Shit, I’m so sorry, Lovie. Y’know I never wanna’ hurt ya’. I’d never do it on purpose.”

You nod and soothe, “I know, Simon. I know. It was just an accident, that’s all. It’s okay, I swear. I’m okay.”

“I-“ He looks around your small room, suddenly feeling like the walls are closing in. He drops his forehead to your knee and nods against it, closing his eyes and murmuring an, “Alrigh’.” 

He places a kiss against your knee and several on your thigh before resting his head against the plush skin. You look down at him and frown slightly. Poor baby looked like a dejected dog. The kind that bites its owner when startled and then immediately regrets it. You know he doesn’t believe you, doesn’t believe it’s okay. You know he feels awful about it. He shouldn’t, not at all. Like you said, it was an accident.

You add on, “It was my fault anyways, you know. You always warn me not to start with the tickling.” You give a pleased-sounding hum, “Found your spot pretty quick that time, kinda’ impressed with myself. Wonder what other fun spots I could find.” You try to flirt, though you doubt the attempt is successful given the stuffy voice, rag up your nose, and brooding boyfriend.

He gives something between and laugh and a scoff and glares up at you through deep brown eyes, “S’not funny.”

“I think it’s a little funny.” You shrug

“You’re the only one.”

You stick out your bottom lip in a pout, “C’mon, Simon. It’s really not bad. I can already feel it letting up.” 

To prove your point you withdraw the rag from your nose and fold it to get a clean part. The smallest bit of blood trickles out of your nose and you quickly wipe it away, holding the rag in place once more. He gives an unimpressed grunt, his hands moving up to rub the outside of your thighs, his form hunched over to make himself smaller in front of you.

“I’m sorry.” He says once more.

“Simon…” You sigh out exasperated.

“No, not just—“ He huffs, “Not just for the nosebleed. Just for bein’… bein’ so bloody brutish. M’too big for your space, Love, too big for your world. Feel like I come in here when I’ve got time off and muck everything up. Breakin’ shit and takin’ up too much space.” He glances up at you apologetically, “Now’m hurtin’ ya’ too? I don’t like it.” He shakes his head, “Sometimes… sometimes I think maybe you’d be better off with a normal man… for plenty of reasons, but this one too. Shouldn’t have some monster loomin’ over ya’ all the time. Want you to feel safe and comfortable in your own space.”

Your heart breaks a little as you listen to your boyfriend nervously ramble. His cheeks turn a faint shade of pink as he makes his little speech, stumbling over a few words. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing. 

“Have I made you feel like that, Si?” You ask, lowering the rag from your nose, “Have I said or done something to make you think that’s how I feel?”

“What? No. ‘Course not. Just somethin’ I think about every now and again s’all.” He reaches up and rubs the back of his neck, his large arm bumping against your knee.

“Baby…” You whisper softly, reaching your clean hand out to take his face, tilting his head upward so his eyes are forced to meet yours. “I don’t feel that way at all. I— well, I love how big you are.” You run your thumbs over his cheeks gently and say, “I feel so safe with you, Simon. I’ve always been the biggest person in the room, always been the biggest person in the relationship. I’ve always felt like I have to protect everyone else.” You smile, “And I would protect you, if I had to, of course. The best I could. But I don’t feel like I have to. You do so well taking care of both of us. You have no idea how much I appreciate that.”

“I do my best.” He mumbles

“And you do so well, Simon.” You reassure, “There is no one— and I mean no one— that I would rather have taking up space in my life.” He gives a faint smile and you give a little giggle, stuffing the corner of the rag up your nose as best you can before wiggling off the side of the bed and down into his lap. You throw your arms around his shoulders and he presses his forehead to your own. “Not to mention…” You murmur, shifting on his lap to get closer to his ear, “I love the way your body feels on mine.” You kiss below his ear and smile as a slight shiver racks his body, “Love feeling your weight on top of me… and beneath me. Behind me is pretty damn good too—“

“Alrigh’, alrigh’’…” He mumbles, his tone slightly amused, “Settle, Lovie.”

You giggle and nuzzle against his neck, “Mm… can’t help it, you got me thinkin’ now, Si.”

He gives a low hum in his throat and nudges your head away from his own carefully, “You’re in no condition for that mess right now.”

“I am too.” You pout

“No…” He chuckles, pointing to your nose, “You aren’t. Give it at least a few hours for me.”

“Scared of a little blood, soldier?” You tease, running your hands up and down his biceps.

“Y’know damn well m’not.” He huffs out, “Just want to give that pretty little head o’yours some rest. Make sure the bleedin’ doesn’t start again.”

“Mm… one hour?”

“Three.”

“Two.” You bargain back.

He rolls his eyes and gives the offer some consideration before agreeing, “Two. N’not a minute sooner. Understood?”

“Heard loud and clear, LT.” You agree, earning a sharp glare. You force down a giggle and remedy, “Understood, Si.”

“‘Atta girl.”

[m-oddinsdottir]

🍒☀️💋.

HERS

Venetia Catton x fem!reader

Summary: another normal summer at Saltburn, however, this time the secret can’t be kept anymore.

Warning(s): oliver quick

Note: I just can’t believe no one has made a Venetia one shot yet

A message appeared on the screen of your phone, the blue light that radiated from it brightened up the frown in your face as your lips pressed together in a thin line. «Don’t get mad, love. But this Ollie you told me about, he’s here.» You couldn’t help but scoff, so, in the end, Felix did invite him regardless of yours and Farleigh’s complaints.

One of your hands passed through your eyes for a second trying to cover your sight from the bothering light. Then, you texted a quick response. «Fucking Felix. I’m almost there.»

You weren’t the best of friends with Oliver, at first, you tried to be nice, you were keen on making new friends and adding more variety into your group. However, there was something off about him; sometimes, you had caught him staring at you through the distance which wouldn’t be weird if he didn’t have that oddness in his eyes, that creepiness, that… You couldn’t even describe it.

So, of course, you told Venetia who reassured you saying that it was probably you being paranoid. Which would be coherent due to your tendency of freaking out in the most insignificant situations. If it weren’t for Farleigh, who thought exactly the same, maybe not for the creepy part but he also knew he didn’t particularly enjoy Oliver Quick’s presence.

Felix, on the other hand, seemed to have become so close to him in only a few months. It wasn’t a secret that Felix attracted people, not only due to his appearance but also because of his personality. He was extroverted, had a great sense of humor and on top of that he was kind, maybe too much sometimes. This last trait was the reason why he had invited Oliver “Er… It’s just that his father has died” You remember him explaining to you why it wouldn’t be just you four that summer which sounded like pity.

Venetia usually invited you to spend each summer vacation in the manor as you couldn’t visit your family because of them living too far away. You just couldn’t afford the trip. But of course that wasn’t the only reason why, the box dyed blonde and you had been dating for almost two years now. It all started when Felix invited you to a party in Saltburn where you met his parents and, specially, where you met his sister. It was an instant connection, you remember being in one of Saltburn’s multiple balconies when she appeared, her long gown shining under the moonlight and the cigarette hanging from her lips “And you are…?” She had asked uninterested “I can think about a tone of adjectives but I will let you discover them for yourself” Then, you told her your name and the rest was history.

Despite this, nobody knew. Not your friends in college, neither Elspeth nor Sir James. The only ones that knew were Far and Felix, however it was hard not to when you two were all over each other during the summer.

But now, with Oliver also there… He couldn’t know, if he did everyone would also do and Venetia and you were just not ready for it. More you than Venetia, after all you didn’t want everyone to think that you were with her just for her family’s money. Everyone would have thought that as you had never told anyone you were also interested in girls neither have you ever shown it as your whole dating history was filled with guys. To be honest, you didn’t even know it yourself until you met her.

Soon, you arrived at Saltburn. A soft smile was placed in your lips trying to act as if there was nothing wrong by the time you entered the place. Duncan, the butler, welcomed you with his usual seriousness and your smile grew due to the sight of a familiar face.

"You know we will carry your luggage, my lady. There’s no need to carry them yourself.” He said while a few other workers grabbed the bags from your hands.

“And as always you know I don’t like to be a burden.”

Duncan shook his head, a complicity look in his eyes. “A guest like you would never be.”

A laugh escaped from your chest and then you rolled your eyes playfully. “Lord, that’s for sure.”

Duncan waited for your luggages to be carried away before speaking again. “Let me escort you to the dining room, the Catton’s are having lunch.”

You raised an eyebrow as you started to walk with the main butler. “Just the Cattons?”

“I’m afraid not.” He answered so a sight was forced to leave your lips.

With the company of Duncan, you entered the dining room finding there the whole family… and Oliver. You restrained from rolling your eyes.

“Darling! You’re finally here.” Elspeth stood up to greet you, she hugged you and then held your cheeks with affection “How can it be that you get prettier every summer?”

“It’s just you Elspeth who sees me with loving eyes. And I should ask the same for you!” The blonde smiled as a response to the compliment before stepping away from you. “Oh, darling” The oldest woman laughed as you approached the rest of the family members.

Sir James welcomed you with a big smile in his face as you gently squeezed his shoulder. Then you walked towards Farleigh, hugging him from behind as you surrounded his shoulders with your arms placing a kiss in his cheek. “Finally, you’re here. I couldn’t bare it any longer” He murmured so you laughed “Don’t worry, we will team up”

Then you approached Felix and your fingers gently brushed through his long hair under the eyes of Oliver. Felix looked up with a pout in his lips. “I’m sorry. I recall what you said but…” He said in a sight before you interrupted him “There’s no need to, it will still be a great summer. I’m sure.”

Lastly, you eagerly walked towards Venetia who was waiting with a tempting smile on her dark lips. Her big eyes travelled through your body up and down as you tried to cover the excitement held in your body to finally have her in your arms.

You hugged her from behind, burying your face in the hollow of her neck. Breathing in her scent, your lips pressed a soft kiss in her pale skin being covered from her parent’s eyes thanks to her long hair. “I missed you” You just whispered before stepping away from her.

“I missed you too” She whispered back.

The moment lingered for a few seconds in time as you looked into each other’s eyes, despite this it was soon broken apart by another voice. A new voice, a voice that didn’t belong there.

“That was it? I was expecting something more… enthusiastic.” Oliver’s voice, of course it was him talking. You stood up, stepping away from Venetia as your eyes locked into his’.

“What do you mean Ollie?” A fake smile was placed on your lips as you turned around slowly to look at Felix, scared that he could have told him something but he looked as confused as you.

“Well, darling, if I haven’t seen someone so dear to me in such a time I would be more…” He spoke with innocence in his voice making a frown appear in your face “I don’t think you have a say in how I greet this family”

Oliver smiled while tilting his head, he had a confused expression as he looked around facing the reactions of the other members. “Not this family but your girlfriend…”

Your eyes widened in disbelief. How could he know? You looked at Felix dead in the eyes, maybe he had told him while being drunk. That was the only reasonable explanation, Farleigh couldn’t have told him anything and it was shown in the way he stood up, hands clenching and unclenching under the table “What the hell Ollie?!” Felix spoke more loudly than the tone he would usually speak in.

The room suddenly stopped before spinning around, you heard Elspeth call your name but you couldn’t hear any of the words that slipped from her lips. Venetia looked at you, she was worried, you could sense it but you were unable to speak or even move.

“What? I… I thought everyone knew” Oliver looked confused and you heard Farleigh’s voice filled with anger afterwards “Clearly not everyone did! But how do you…?” His question was soon answered by the boy “I was in the bathroom when Felix was talking to you about it… I just overheard it but it’s not a big deal, right?”

Once again, you looked at Felix whose eyes darted around the room in a mixture of confusion and worry. Then, you stormed out of that place leaving behind the voice of Elspeth calling your name and a fast trace of footsteps following you.

You walked towards the room you were usually assigned before someone stopped you grabbing your wrist and making you turn around. Encountering Venetia’s eyes, a shaky sight left your lips by the same time your hands began to shake. “I didn’t… I didn’t want it to be like this.”

Venetia smiled as she placed a rebel strand of hair behind your ear, her hand cupping your face as you moved yourself closer to her trying to calm down. You wrapped your arms around her waist, moving your head from her hands to hide it in her neck.

“Love… It’s alright. My parents they won’t be mad, I’m sure they even suspected it.” At a slowly pace, her fingers traveled through your back in a known pattern that made you sigh again. “I… It’s just, fucking Ollie”

“Yeah” She laughed softly stepping away slightly to look into your eyes “Fucking Ollie”

Venetia caught a glimpse of your lips before meeting them in the halfway of the path towards your room and also your heart. Each time you were with her, every single caress, every hug, every kiss, it just contributed to her sticking into you even deeper. Your foreheads pressed together after the kiss, making your even breathing mix with hers and for a moment you were unable to open your eyes. You just wanted to stay in her arms forever.

sorry if there’s any grammatical mistake or similars, I haven’t written in english for such a long time lol

pt. 2??

[exhaslo]

Hey girl!!! I was wondering if you could write something about yandre!miguel x shy!reader to IFHY by Tyler The creator. If not that’s okayyyy

I had to google the song lyrics to know what it was about haha. Def different for sure...Personally, not my cup of tea, but I can try and make it work.

Also, my next story after Over-Time will be a Yandere!Miguel x Gamer!Reader! So I hope you enjoy that one when it comes out!!!

Warning: Language, thoughts of murder, possessiveness, stalking, thoughts of abuse, kidnapping

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I never would've thought that Feelings could get thrown in the air 'Cause I accidentally caught that I need some new boxing gloves, shit got hectic whenever I fought back For example, ten minutes can't go past without you brushing my thoughts That's fourteen forty a day so I'll say a hundred and forty four times I think about you or something like that Lost match, the fucking thought of you with somebody else I don't like that cellular convos getting left in the wrong 'Cause I get so fucking mad when you don't write back This isn't a song I just happen to rhyme when I get emo And find time to write facts (fuck) I love you

How could anyone ever thought about claiming you as their own? Especially since Miguel had decided to make you his. Not that he officially told anyone, but it should be common knowledge. Miguel spoke to you and that was enough.

He didn't want these feelings at first, because he knew what would happen. You plagued his mind constantly, unable to let him breathe for even a minute. It all started out simple enough, but then it kept getting worse as time went on.

Miguel loathed the thought of someone dating you.

For every second the two of you share a room and you don't look at him, oh it boiled Miguel. How dare you not give him the attention he deserves? How dare you not give your love to him as much as Miguel does for you.

Miguel knew everything about you. Every like and dislike. Miguel knew your pattern going home. He knew how you worked. Miguel followed your every movement.

Miguel did everything in his power to understand you. He would always be right behind you, no matter what.

Don't you realize how much Miguel loves you?

How much you are supposed to love him?

I fucking hate you But I love you I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled You're good at being perfect We're good at being troubled Yeah

I fucking hate you But I love you I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled You're good at being perfect We're good at being troubled Yeah

Miguel had done so much for you. He had tried to hide these obsessive feelings, but how could he? You were beautiful. Miguel went out of his way to make sure you felt loved.

To make sure that you relied on him!

So why the fuck were you not giving him more attention?

Why the fuck were you just stuck at giving Miguel hugs and pats on the shoulder?

Miguel was starting to lose his temper. What did he have to do to get you to understand his feelings? To get you to understand your feelings for him?!

WHY WERE YOU DOING THIS TO HIM?!

Girl you fucking with my emotions The fuck is all this noise about? I even considered picking up smoking You turned to a bitch, who let the dogs out? But in my dog house My bitch is the raddest Crazy who makes me the happiest Can make me the saddest Look, Alice Let's get lost in your wonder-er-land, fuck an atlas You're perfectly perfect for me What the fuck is this, practice? Actually, if you even consider leaving I'll lose a couple screws in due time, I'll stop breathing And you'll see the meaning of stalking When I pop out the dark to find you And that new dude that you're seeing with an attitude Then proceed to fuck up your evening Make sure you never meet again like goddamn vegans 'Cause when I hear your name, I cannot stop cheesing I love you so much that my heart stops beating when you're leaving And I'm grieving and my heart starts bleeding Life without you has no goddamn meaning Sorry I'm passive aggressive for no goddamn reason It's that my mood change like these goddamn seasons I'll fall for you, but I love you

Miguel was furious. How dare you play with his feelings like this? How dare you agree to date anyone else while Miguel was right there for you?

Oh, how Miguel considered following you home.

Oh, how Miguel considered killing that scum of a boyfriend you had.

You were just confused. You just needed to practice with someone, right? You just wanted to be perfect and ready for when you finally confess your feelings to Miguel.

RIGHT?!

Miguel had to keep his cool. He knew that this was just a short-lived practice for you. He still had to be there for you. To show you your mistakes. After all, Miguel couldn't live without you. You belonged to him and you knew that.

You fucking knew that, so why the fuck were you playing this game?

I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled You're good at being perfect We're good at being troubled Yeah

The sky is falling, girl, let's try to catch it The sky is falling, girl, let's try to catch it The sky is falling, girl, let's try to catch it tonight The sky is falling, girl, let's try to catch it The sky is falling, girl, let's try to catch it The sky is falling, bitch, let's try to catch it tonight, come on

The smile Miguel hid as you cried onto his shoulder. Your practice boyfriend didn't understand you as well as Miguel did. He kept hurting you like this. Making you feel like you've done something wrong.

Which you did.

Miguel would just welcome you into his embrace. Comforting you as he thought of about killing that son of a bitch. You were made for Miguel. You were his.

So, Miguel was going to give you a chance to redeem yourself.

This was your last chance.

Come on baby Even though I hate you I still love you I love you And Salem I know I'm passive aggressive (I'm sorry, fuck) (Come here) I like when we hold hands (You're the best around) See I get jealous (fuck) And if I see that nigga (if I see him) I just might kill him (look) (Look, I wanna strangle you, till you stop breathing) Love, love, love (Spend the rest of my life, looking for air) (So you can breathe, or we can die together, you and me) (Fuck, look) I'm in love (love) I'm in love (love)

You were so beautiful. Miguel could never hate you.

But he did.

But he loved you.

You were still with that practice boyfriend, holding his hand as he joined for a work dinner party. Miguel just smiled as he burned holes in that fucking asshole's head.

How dare he claim you.

Unable to withstand this pain, Miguel pulled you to the side. He needed to hear your voice alone. He needed you to want his attention. Miguel just needed you to admit your feelings for him.

As the two of you talked in the balcony, Miguel withheld his breathe as you reached for his hand.

The smile you gave him was unlike any other.

Miguel tuned out your words as he watched your lips move. The temptation to take you away and make you his. How sweet Miguel would treat you.

"Miguel, I'm sorry...but we should see each other less."

And then you had to fuck it up.

You blew your last chance.

I fucking hate you But I love you I'm bad at keeping my emotions bubbled You're good at being perfect We're good at being troubled Yeah

Yo, so why is Samuel such a fucking dick? He isn't such a badass actually He's only here because he ran away Because some shit happened back, home he's actually a dweeb Yo, what happened?

Washing blood off was no easy task. Hiding the body was much easier.

If only you had admitted your feelings.

If only you weren't being difficult.

Making his way to the basement, Miguel hummed lowly as he faced you. The light was dimmed, but Miguel could see you clear as day. You had a new look in your eyes.

Fear.

Miguel just smiled as he approached you, watching you flinch as he went to hold you. This was your lesson. This was your punishment. You should have listened to Miguel.

Now, you were Miguel's little prisoner. His darling girlfriend. You were never going to go against Miguel's wishes ever again.

"I love you so much, (Y/N)." Miguel chuckled as he kissed your head.

His hand stroked your cheek, waiting for your response.

"I-I....I love you too."

There is was.

Why did it take so long for you to admit that?

But it didn't matter anymore. You were now where you belonged.

With Miguel.

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Hope you enjoyed, def different than what I usually write.

Hope I did a decent job with the song tho!!!

[cozage]

hiii!! i love you’re writing sm, been following you for awhile but haven’t sent in a request before!!

i’ve been craving for some sanji angst as a treat… i was thinking a scenario where the mc and sanji fall in love but can’t be together due to various reasons (like them being on different crews & can’t seeeach other enough, etc). i want LONGING i want PAIN i want STAR-CROSSED LOVERS… if you want to write it ofc :)

remember to take breaks and stay hydrated and healthy !! take care <3

Hi! I need a few more days to recoup, but Monday I’ll be back with TDR. Here’s another small thing I wrote while I’ve been away.

This is going to be fun four-part mini series 💕 Here's part one!

Characters: female reader x Sanji CW: none Word Count:1k

Introduction

He came into your life like a knight in shining armor. 

Not that you needed one. But it was certainly nice to have. 

You had been shopping for your crew, trying to find the correct ingredients to prepare some of your best dishes. You never knew what the New World had in store, so it was best to stock up when you got the chance. 

And then a group of men shoved you to the ground, demanding your money and your possessions. 

You were just about to teach them a lesson when a blonde-haired man roundhouse kicked them all at once, instantly knocking them unconscious. 

“Are you okay, my lady?” He asked, extending a hand out to you. 

“Yes, thank you.” Normally you wouldn’t have taken a stranger's offer to help you up, but his blue eyes only showed kindness in them. 

As you stood to your feet and brushed yourself off, the man instantly began picking up your scattered belongings. 

“That’s okay, I can pick them up.”

“Nonsense.” He smiled at you, holding out your basket with all of your things neatly packed inside. “A lady shouldn’t have to pick up things off the ground.”

You ignored his chivalry. “Is there anything I can do to repay you for helping me out with those thugs? I have money-“

“I will not take money from a lady,” the blonde said, a smirk on his face. “But I would like a date.”

Oh he was bold. Very bold. You weren’t sure how you felt about it, but he had piqued your interest. 

“Very well,” you smiled, trying to ignore the blush rushing to your cheeks. “Take me on the best date you possibly can, er-“

“Sanji,” he said quickly. “My name is Sanji.”

You introduced yourself as well, and then he led you off away from the marketplace and toward the coast. 

You were a bit delusional, letting a strange man take you on a date. Perhaps you had hit your head when you were pushed down. It was about the only explanation for doing this. You were normally so cautious, especially when it came to pirate ports on the Grand Line.

“What are you thinking about, my dear?” His question jerked you from your thoughts. 

“Honestly?” You chuckled. “I’m thinking how insane it is that I’m going off alone with some stranger. You could kill me and nobody would even know I was gone.”

“Sure that’s not true,” Sanji said, scowling. “You have to have someone who cares about you.”

You shrugged. “My crew is all I’ve got.”

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re a pirate?”

You gave him a teasing smirk. “Does that scare you?”

“Not at all,” he hummed. “It must be quite the life.”

“It’s a good life. Better than I had before.” You instantly regretted your words. You shouldn’t have given him a reason to pry. 

But he didn’t ask any further questions, thankfully. The two of you arrived at the coast just in time to see the sun begin to sink behind the waves. 

“Unfortunately I don’t have much time to make your date perfect. I’m afraid we’ll have to settle for a sunset on the beach.” Sanji sounded disappointed, but you appreciated something simple. 

“You shouldn’t try too hard on the first date anyway. You can’t show all your cards at once,” you said in a joking tone. It’s not like you’d get another date with him. You’d be gone by sunrise. 

“What is your dream date?” Sanji asked. “For next time.”

You laughed at his joke now, but you thought long and hard about your answer. You couldn’t be this vulnerable with your crew. It was nice to have someone who wanted to hear your opinion on things. 

“This is pretty close,” you admitted. “A sunset on the beach. I would just have to add a bottle of wine.”

Sanji raised a curly eyebrow at you. “That can’t be all.”

You sighed. It wasn’t. 

“Flowers,” you said. “I’d like a guy to bring me flowers. Oh! And have somebody cook for me for once. And…” you bit your lip, embarrassed to say the next part. But Sanji’s encouraging gaze pushed you on. 

“I really want to go dancing.  Even if it’s just a dance with street music. It’s silly, I know-”

“It’s not silly, mon cherie.”  His eyes were aglow listening to you speak, and you felt like for the first time in your life, you had finally been heard. 

You smiled back at him and returned your gaze to the sunset, silently watching it sink beneath the sea. 

“Are you a cook?” Sanji finally asked. “You said earlier you wanted someone to cook for you.”

Your face scrunched at his question. “I’m not very good, but my crew mates don’t complain too much.”

“I’m sure you’re amazing,” Sanji said. “I’ll cook for you every day, if you want.”

You wanted to stay with him. You wanted to ask him to join your crew, but your captain was strict on who he let in. You couldn’t even extend the offer to this amazing man in front of you. You’d have to break his heart instead. 

“I can’t stay here, Sanji,” you finally whispered. “I’ll be gone by morning.”

Sanji grabbed your hand and held them tightly. He didn’t look sad though. He looked hopeful. 

“Our paths will cross again,” he promised. 

“I hope the fates allow that to happen.”

And with a quick kiss on the cheek, you left him on the beach, hoping that somehow, he was right. 

--

You missed him desperately. You thought about him constantly. Every time you landed on an island, a piece of you searched for his blonde hair and blue eyes. You knew you wouldn’t find him, but you still had to search. 

“Are you okay?” your captain, Berk, finally asked you. “You’ve been different recently.”

“I’m fine,” you said. “I just made a connection with one of the locals on an island recently. I kind of miss him, that’s all.”

Berk raised his eyebrow at you at the mention of you missing another person who wasn’t on the crew, and you could see his body tense. 

“Come on girl.” He gave a nervous laugh. “You know we’re the only family you’ve got.”

You gave a sad smile and turned back to the meal you were preparing. “I know, Berk. I know.”

[myeagleexpert]

𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕻𝖆𝖘𝖘𝖆𝖌𝖊 𝖔𝖋 𝕳𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕬𝖜𝖆𝖐𝖊𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝕾𝖙𝖆𝖗 ( PT2 )

And if you could go anywhere in the world, where would you go? Howl's Moving Castle x Twisted Wonderland Au (Vil x Fem!Yuu) PS: This was written before Vil's new updates in the new chapters, I'm delving deeper into Vil's character and I know he's not just "a pretty boy" but for the direction of the story, he will have to follow this personality aspect a little more to this characteristic part of it. So I'm sorry if this isn't the most faithful fic to the character he is. I promise I will edit better, so that it has better quality.

Part1 You're here Next

"Bro, if you don't come soon I swear I'll get her alone!"- Ace stood with his arms crossed outside Heartslabyul's kitchen while Deuce carried a beautiful and tasty strawberry pie that Trey just made, the smell of pie woke up all the members of the dorm leaving them in a wonderful mood, if even the tyrannical Riddle smiled with that pie it would certainly work on Yuu too right?

"Don't rush me Ace! After all that stress yesterday the least we can do is apologize to Yuu."

"And you needed to give Trey more work and make him another pie so soon?"

"Well….er….With model students we must go beyond simple apologies!"- Suddenly, Deuce's jovial face turned red but he quickly remembered that shame should not stop him from apologizing to his friend.

"Come on! She's not even that mad!" raising his arms in resignation he continued “Okay, she is angry! But this happens almost every day, she is already used to it, and besides…” the nosy man put his finger in the gelatinous broth of the pie and licked his fingers. in such an unpretentious way “It’s not like she’s going to disappear out of nowhere and we won’t be able to say goodbye, she’s our friend.”

Deuce sighed heavily and finally agreed with his friend. Trapolla, with a genuine smile, began to remember some adventures they had already had and plan new adventures with Yuu and Grim would also love the antics. And hope filled their hearts. Planning after planning. After all, Yuu would always be with them, right?

“I'm grateful that you managed to get here as quickly as possible.” With a serious voice, the old crow thanked everyone present in the mirror room, from teachers to leaders and vice-leaders, some of Yuu's colleagues were also there.

"We know it's something important Crowley, we need to discuss this as soon as possible" - it was in the middle of breakfast that Riddle heard ADeuce's desperate screams, and when he turned up his nose thinking that the morning had already started badly he couldn't imagine it would get worse.

“So what do we know so far? I only heard loud noises all morning” - the lion grumbled

“The members of my dorm, Ace and Deuce, when they went to pick Yuu up for classes early in the morning, discovered that Yuu and Grim had mysteriously disappeared.”

“Have you looked for clues in the abandoned dormitory?”

“ That's the problem: the entire Ramsharckle Dorm is gone! Not even a piece of wood on the floor, no ghosts, just a mark on the floor where he used to stand” Trey replied and while he already felt anxiety in his heart, he knew that the first boys must be feeling it more. When the two arrived screaming like maniacs in the dorm asking them to follow Trey knew something was strange, due to the fact that his precious pie was dropped on the floor. Not even in an overblot had Deuce dropped a cupcake, but a pie on the floor must have been quite a problem.

“Oh, now that’s a problem.” putting his hand over his mouth Jade whispered discreetly in Azul's ear

“There are rumors all over the school. How could an ENTIRE dorm disappear out of nowhere? What about our protection field?” Leona had had his precious 9am post-sleep nap interrupted when conversations from all kinds of beastmen started to get very loud and his sensitive ears picked up some things.

“I heard that Yuu hasn't shown up to class yet. Did you take their notes?”

“The meteor shower was incredible yesterday! I took several photos and posted them on Magicam!”

“There is a horrible smell near the statues of the seven! A very strong smell of rotten eggs and vinegar!”

" You will not believe! You know that girl's dorm without magic? IT DISAPPEARED"

“Our protective field detected nothing, no changes.”

“What if the dorm is gone but Yuu and Grim are still somewhere in the school? Can Rook use his magic and try to look for them both?”

The hyena knew two things: Nothing disappears without a trace and that Yuu would do anything for her and Grim to survive. No wonder she survived 7 overblots. They are alive.

“Yes, Monsieur Dandelion” when reciting his unique magic, the hunter combined it with a magic from his wand so that everything he was seeing, others would also see with a projection of his magical range - an idea that came from Yuu.

i s e e y o u

Spell cast but no result, Rook searched every dormitory and every hidden corner of the school, the deserts of scarabia to the bottom of the waters of octaveinelle, in the royal school, in the noble school, in the cities they had visited before but nothing… for one good period of time….nothing.

“Je suis désolé, I didn’t find anything”

“Oh for the seven! How terrible! What do we do?" Crowley, oh so sad, exclaimed.

“Did they come home?"

“Did she run away?” “But what happened that made her run away so suddenly?”

Some voices whispered among themselves, others created more theories about what could have happened.

Malleus was in the corner of the room, absorbed by the shadows of the room, he could see how each person missed Yuu and Grim and how emotions were expressed on their faces, but Schoenheit's looked strange, it wasn't the same expression as sadness that Heartslabyul's dorm leader,it was Silver's expression when he was a child doing something wrong and Lillia caught him in the act… oh yes… guilt.

“Let’s split up, if the dogs just whine, it won’t help anything!” with authority determined to find the two, Crewel spoke out -“The two first year pups, Trey, Riddle, Blue, Rook and Jack go to the Ramsharckle to inspect for any clues in the dorm, any smell, footprint, anything.

Ruggie, Jamil, Jade and Carter, I need you to interrogate the students and find out how the rumors came about and if we have any useful information. Kalim and Epel, stay in this group too.

For the rest, check the library to see if there is any phenomenon linking last night to Ramscharkle's disappearance and calm down the dorms.”

“Any information must be said immediately. Stay calm, we will find them.” concluded Trey and they were soon dismissed

"Child of man, how did you know that Grim would precisely knock down that vase?" - prince in all his wisdom, asks Yuu who had just picked up a vase from the shelf exactly 5 seconds before the monster cat appeared out of nowhere and knocked in the exact location of the vessel.

"Intuition." Malleus's gaze asked for more information and so she graciously gave it “It's when we have the act of perceiving, discerning or sensing things, independently of reasoning or analysis to conclude something, you know? “ “Could this be a magic that only belongs to humans?”

“I don’t think so Tsunotaro” she laughed so cutely “So when you get a feeling about something, go ahead, there’s a good chance you’re right.”

Go ahead

His eyes narrowed and followed Vil's movements, who silently took another path from the research group.

Some things were discovered in each group:

1- The dormitory is completely gone, with all the members. 2-there is a very slight smell of Yuu in a single small section 3- Sam's friends saw Yuu just before the meteor shower started 4- Yuu was upset with some people (rumors) 5- All photos of the meteor shower are blurry 6- Absolutely nothing else

The students looked disappointedly at the paper list before handing it to Crowley, just some facts with few connections between them and no matter how much they looked for some magic or some phenomenon to explain what happened but the results of their efforts yielded nothing, just hearts. sad and heavy consciences and remained that way for a few days.

Until one day, the universe decided to smile at the boys again and especially at the manliest boy in Pomefiore who was pouting on his bed after being tugged on Vil's ear.

“Umnh…hello pewpaw?” “Hello my sweet! How are you?" his grandmother's voice calmed the lilac-haired boy for the first time in days “I’m fine grandma, things have been really complicated these days, but I’m trying hard to get stronger!” “Okay, grandma knows you’ve been having a rough day, so send an extra box of apple juice for you and your friends!” “Thank you, I’m sure they’ll love it-” “And Yuu, how is she?” my crush is missing in the middle of the world and we have no idea if anyone would say we will see her again, thank you “Well, she is… fine….but something happened that-” “Yesterday she said she wasn’t feeling very well, so I gave her that apple and lemon drink and wow! She looked really pretty!”

what WHAT?

“Yesterday grandma? What? Where?” genuinely confused and stunned even more so because Rook appeared out of nowhere next to him and silently asked to turn on the speakerphone on his cell phone. “I bumped into her in the village on Sage Island when we went to make some apple juice deliveries, I even thought you would be close to her with some friends! A pretty girl is not meant to walk alone!”

“How was she, grandma? Was she ok? Where did you see her exactly? “ Exasperated and anxious, the boy tried to control himself so as not to make it too obvious how worried he was! But Crowley, in all his old bird wisdom, ordered that no one should speak of this matter outside of the NRC people.

“She was in front of a store when we bumped into each other, I don't remember the name of the store because some were already closing. I don’t know why but she feels different”

“Like what grandma?” “Like…. magical…. but isn’t she the girl without magic who studies with you?” “Yes, yes… And!… ah… How was she d-different?" - increasingly anxious he had no idea what to think and what to ask without shouting that she was missing “I didn’t see him… um…. She likes it differently, I don’t remember what”

Rook thought of a strategy while Epel pulled out his hair, the hunter wrote on a piece of paper he took from the desk the most direct questions about what everyone wanted to know!

“Grim.was. with. her.? “I didn’t see him… um…. She looked different, I don’t remember what but it was the only thing I remember.”

“Did.she.tell.where.she.was going?” Rook's handwriting looked like a drunken French monarch writing, so give Epel credit for reading that riddle while he was trying not to pass out

“If she said, I don’t remember, she had some bags in her hand and that she had to run because she was in a hurry.” “Hurry.to.what?Hurry.to.where?”

“I don’t know Epel! I don't go around meddling in people's lives! Why are you so interested in her life? It’s like you don’t see her every day at school!”

“Sorry.dear.grandma.I’m curious.ha.ha”

“Anyway, do you know what happened here? Your uncle—-” the dear, sweet old lady couldn't finish the day's gossip because Epel had nervously hung up and ran off to send messages to the first-year students while running like crazy to Crowley's office.

Rook celebrated the victory and elegantly told the evil queen the news. Meanwhile, Lady Pewpeaw looked in the mirror and thought: I already know! She changed her hair! Or is it the hair that changes people? She looked very chic and elegant. Ahh, I hope my grandson Epel can win the heart of that beautiful girl!

As Epel ran with all the strength his legs could carry, which was a lot now that he was in the Spelldrive club, he sent messages to the other first-year students excited about the possibility of Yuu being found and a certain hunter was able to smile knowing that he would have fresh news to tell the evil Queen.

After a brief meeting between the first-year students and briefly with the leaders, Crowley allowed them to investigate possible clues. The boys searched every alley and store with their hearts burning with hope, Deuce was ready to hug her while Ace was preparing a lecture on why she disappeared out of nowhere leaving them all distressed. Jack concentrated as he remembered Yuu's familiar smell, the smell so different from the bunch of men in NRC, the smell that was unique to her. Epel was looking for the address that her grandmother had given her, always looking at the clock and the port, if she could only stay until sunset, that means she would have to leave before dark.

----- The sun finally set, giving way to the moon that illuminated the boys' journey back to school. The hopeful young hearts returned broken, hopeless, shattered, and without any trace of Yuu. Each one informed their dorm leader, Leona just turned her back and tried to sleep knowing that no matter how much she closed her eyes she wouldn't have rest until she found Yuu, Riddle for the first time didn't finish the strawberry pie, and Vil…. Vil was different. Vil was “strangely strange”, when even after receiving the news about Yuu's case he couldn't sleep properly, even with a beauty campaign that was going to make his skin wasn't radiant and a pimple appeared on the corner of his chin.

“The Campaign is tomorrow. How can I let such futile emotions ruin my skin just for tomorrow”? – the poisonous king thought as he touched up his makeup looking at a small hand mirror, taking care that his facial features didn't show the makeup.

“I can't believe we didn't achieve anything Jack!” Vil heard some voices in the hallway.

“It was a good attempt Epel. One time or another we will find an answer.”

“But…but we were so so close! I went to the exact store my pewpaw said but no clue!Damn! When the fuck we gonna have a track like this?!” maybe at another time Vil would fight with Epel for letting his accent come out rougher but the conversation was getting to the queen's delicate nerves

“In Tiana’s Palace there was only the smell of food, nothing of Grim or Yuu. I’m sorry Epel.” Vil might not have seen it, but he could have sworn Jack was rubbing his neck and looking down, probably feeling guilty about for not having found the prefect.

Is he to blame, Vil?

A voice called from the mirror and Vil was so scared that he dropped his mirror on the floor, breaking it into pieces, and he could no longer hear the gossip. But that wasn't the worst, my friends. The worst was right in front of the young prodigy's face. A wrinkle in the middle of the forehead.

“In the name of Gucci this can’t be happening!”

Is he to blame, Vil?

If he hadn't been so worried about his precious skin, he would have noticed a small bat watching him in a corner of the bathroom. Quickly composing himself, he headed to the Film Club at the appointed time.

The moon was shining in the sky and all Vil could think about was the last moments he spent with Yuu, if he said sorry, would she come back? No no, he's not the problem! This is pure coincidence! He turned over the bed and looked for his beauty sleep, but only found guilt and loneliness.

“Maybe a walk will help relax my nerves?” - he put a comfortable jacket over it before opening the door

It was supposed to be just a walk, through the hall of Pomefiore's grand corridors But Vil's desperation led him to the port of Sage's Island with his broom, looking for one last hope of finding Yuu. After all, to get a proper beauty sleep he had to solve the problem of his insomnia first. Some stores were still open, parties, nightclubs, a small village but so bright! With people laughing and talking, how lovely. Every person who recognized the celebrity asked for a photo and an autograph and the question he wanted to ask everyone died in his mouth. """Have you seen this person recently?"""

Putting his acting skills to good use, he put on his best face that didn't show how terribly guilty he felt and lost in his thoughts he entered the dorm, maybe the Film Club had something that could distract him, spend some time energy and quality sleep, maybe some sleeping pills… something…. the bedroom is not the best time right now, not when he can't sleep. And here he is, in the pit of frustrations. In the place where that day happened.

“The weather is pleasant tonight, wouldn’t you agree, Schoith?” Malleus's cordial voice cut through his train of thoughts, like the brakes on a speeding train. He had just entered the club, then closed the door. The atmosphere was strange, like sticking your hand in a hornet's nest with sleeping bees. What was the great one doing here?

“Greetings, Draconia. I thought I locked the door, the club is closed now. As you can see around, everything is a mess. ”- Vil gestured his arms indicating the mess that the studio was around, with open boxes and disheveled wigs, it seems that the students who remained there after he left did not clean up the mess, much to Vil's annoyance.

“What a vulgar club this is. With such vulgar fantasies.” Malleus's repetitive voice was like a poison, the atmosphere was no longer “strange”, it was cold and heavy, the heir of the Valley of Thorns did not hesitate to hide the contempt and hatred mixed in his words “And you are the most vulgar thing from here."

The bees woke up.

“Yes, it’s messy! A few rotten potatoes didn't clean up the mess, they'll see about it tomorrow! It's none of your business.” Angry, the bees buzzed away, leaving the environment more agitated and hostile. No matter how much Vil tried to remain classy, his eyebrows showed his indignation and his fists were ready to attack.

Malleus approached, circling the leader of the Pomefiore domain, like a predator and his prey. The prince's eyes shone a bright shade of green and his pupils became increasingly thinner. Through the window, some thunder and lightning ripped through the sky, revealing Malleus' internal storm.

“I heard that there will be an important campaign tomorrow. Surely, you don't go that way, do you? Please don’t ruin the Queen’s reputation, after all, how do you want to continue her legacy if you have broken nails like any commoner?” looking directly at Vil's closed fists, Malleus smiled with disdain and a slight satisfaction seeing the oh so beautiful Vil shaking with anger.

“How dare Malleus? I don't know what you're doing here but leave immediately!” - furious, the leader of Pomefiore took a step forward and pointed to the door, his face red and with some blonde locks falling from his hairstyle irritating him even more. He dripped snake venom into every word he said, but when has a dragon died from snake venom?

“It is very bold to challenge the Prince of the Valley of Thorns, Schothein.” Stepping forward and coming directly face to face with Vil, he laughed elegantly with mischief in every note- "Don't worry, I won't spend any more time with you, I'll just hand you a gift."

With all the doors and windows closed, Malleus raises his hand and a green smoke with sharp thorns invades the Film Club, and with a simple look thorns wrap around Schoith bringing him close and totally paralyzed, the heir's malicious laugh grows ever louder. But before he recites a macabre ancient magic, in a language that not even Vil himself understood, Malleus's power was clear, shining in an electric green, with his scepter firing across the entire environment. When he finished his rush, Malleus passed his cloak over Vil's body, which was still frozen on the ground.

“You won't be able to talk to anyone about your curse. Send my regards to Yuu.” That said, he just left the club with a Machiavellian glint in his eyes.

As soon as the door closed, Vil managed to release the air he didn't know he was holding, the smoke and thorns were breaking apart and erasing the tracks as if they had never happened. When trying to get up, Vil realized how weak his beautiful and athletic body was but it was when his knee creaked that even standing up he was paralyzed. He looked at his shaking hands, recognizing the familiar hands with veins and wrinkles looking like an old, colorless raisin.

“No…no…not again!”

He ran to the mirror of a nearby dressing room, and his ugliness was so great that he broke the mirror. A fairy's gift is a dubious thing, but coming from Malleus, Vil can confirm his greatest fears in the mirror: He was old and magicless.

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[thepascalofus]

Growing on Me - Chapter One

AO3

Din Djarin x botanist!Reader

Word Count: 6.1K

Summary: The Plant Species Inventory Project is a one hundred day expedition in the forests of Nevarro. You’re Nevarro’s best (and only) botanist, which is something Karga doesn’t want to risk losing. Making sure you’re safe on this years expedition, Karga hired a Mandalorian to protect you—Mando.

Series Content Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, swearing, completely made up species and/or irl species instead of canon ones, inaccurate descriptions of Nevarro (it has forests instead of lava plains), lots of biology and environmental stuff (I promise I won’t go too deep with it [i have a bio degree]), 70% strangers/30% enemies to lovers, semi-slow burn, lots of tropes (because what are tropes if we don’t use them am I right?), canon violence, eventual SMUT, eventual FLUFF, reader is described as gender neutral as possible but has female sex organs and is occasionally referred to as a girl, no Y/N, hurt/comfort, happy ending guaranteed!

A/N: I have had this idea brewing in my mind for a while now. I’m so happy to share this with all of you. I truly love the topic I went to school for (biology), so this is mostly for me, oops. There will be lots of biology related stuff in this series, but I promise it will be “comprehensible”, not textbook jargon. Every single like, reblog, comment, smoke signal (that’d be a fun one), and ask truly means the world to me. Sharing my writing is a new thing for me and I’m enjoying it so far. Alsssoooo, I’m planning for this fic to be a long(er) series. 

Leaves crunched underneath your hiking boots with every step you took into the forest. Further and further in, green soaked into your vision and found its home. The forest was moderately dense. Trees of various shapes and sizes were scattered throughout the land. Distances between tree trunks varied, but gaps still allowed for traversion.

The understory was spectacular. Biodiversity could be defined in a dictionary, and a picture of this landscape would take up two and a half pages. Tall, leafy plants with elongated petioles and broad leaves gave the small shade plants cover. Tiny collections of different mosses littered the surfaces of landlocked rocks. Vines found their way up tree trunks and retreated back down, hanging from branches as thick, green ropes.

Light peeked in from the gaps in the forest canopy. Small lizards basked on rocks where the light shined especially bright. Happy, buzzing pollinators made their way from flower to flower in search of sweet nectar.

The light also reflected off of Mando’s silver beskar, and right into your eyes.

You squinted at the white splotches that harassed your vision. In response, you turned your head and ignored the man that stood in the corner of your eye. Your feet continued to weave between plants, careful not to break too many with your steps. With each step, the brown rucksack on your back bounced against your torso and your blaster patted against your thigh.

Karga lent you the rucksack to hold the maps and forms needed for the expedition. It was one hundred days out here. You’ve done longer land surveys and experienced plenty of joy from doing them. But you were with your university mentor then.

Now you’re with Mando.

Karga insisted that the Mandalorian come with you. You sauntered into his office this morning to retrieve the rucksack and its contents, and were met with two men instead of just the High Magistrate himself. Karga pulled you aside and told you to, “think of him as more of an assistant,” but you knew he truly hired the man donning beskar to protect you.

You rolled your eyes in response, but thanked Karga nevertheless. The Plant Species Inventory Project was in its third year, and you were on your third year of running it. Every year you hiked through the surrounding forests of Nevarro for one hundred days to document the species of the forest.

But last year you had to stop early due to receiving a venomous bite from a lizard. Karga called in an airlift and had you rushed to the hospital. The doctors said that if you had arrived five minutes later, you would’ve been dead.

This year, Karga decided that your knife and blaster weren’t good enough against lizards. Instead of getting you better self defense tools, he bought a Mandalorian to protect you. From the lizards.

Right before you passed another rock with a lizard sunbathing on its peak, Mando made his way over to you and put his body between you and the rock. You huffed in response. The lizard had brown, pointy skin with splotches of blue along its back.

“That one is harmless, Mando,” you deadpanned to the man.

“Yeah? How do you know?” He quipped in response.

Taken aback by his sudden eagerness to talk to you—he hasn’t said a word to you since you both left Karga’s office—you quickly explained, “The harmless ones, Glendia ropensis, have blue spots on their back. The venomous ones, Glendia frediama, have green spots.”

Mando turned his helmet to look at you. You stared back at him, directly in his black visor. Other people have told you bits and pieces of folklore about the Mandalorians. The galaxy’s best warriors. They trained to develop their fighting skills as soon as they were old enough.

Yet, the beskar man didn’t phase you. Karga wouldn’t send you into a remote forest with a man he didn’t trust…right? You trusted Karga and his judgment, therefore you trusted Mando to not kill you.

“I thought you were a botanist?” The shiny man stated in confusion.

“I am,” you replied, “just because I know plants doesn’t mean I can’t know animals.”

His helmet tilted in a “fair enough” motion and you two continued to trek through the forest. Mando cleared his throat, “Karga said you were Nevarro’s best botanist.”

“I am,” you repeated, then continued with tight lips, “I’m also Nevarro’s only botanist.”

The man hummed, the sound crackling through the helmet. Facing forward, your gaze drifted downwards to the array of plants on the forest floor. Different leaf shapes popped out at you. Some plants had bright flowers while others lacked them.

BEEP BEEP BEEP.

Your watch went off, signaling for the first sampling. Bringing your rucksack around your shoulder and in front of you, you plopped it down on the ground and opened the sack. A holopad and two cubes were held in your hands as you brought them from out of the brown bag. 

Flipping the switch on one of the cubes, you tossed it to Mando. He stood there, examining the device, while you pulled up the proper programs on the holopad. One program mapped your hike while the other helped you record the species you sampled. You tucked the holopad under your arm after setting up your sampling preferences.

You looked up to see Mando fiddling with the cube you gave him. Your hand whose arm wasn’t holding the holopad flicked the switch on the corresponding cube.

A hologram square projected out of the cubes, the devices corresponded to two diagonal corners of the square. You walked closer to the Mandalorian and the square shrunk. You walked further and the square grew.

Selecting a small rock protruding from the ground, you set the device on top of it. Mando picked up on your motions and found a log to prop the corresponding device onto.

“Don’t all of the sampling plots need to be the same size?” The silver man questioned.

You retrieved the holopad from under your arm and tapped the screen to initiate the calculations on the size of the plot. Looking up from the holopad you pointed to the screen, and replied to Mando with a hint of sass, “The programs standardize everything, so the sampling plots don’t need to be exact.”

His gaze bored into yours while the program calculated the dimensions of the plot and ran other diagnostics of the area. You raised an eyebrow at him, shifting your weight to one foot, “Do you not trust Nevarro’s best botanist?” You asked jokingly, yet with a tone of seriousness.

At first Mando didn’t respond in words, but his shoulders rose, as if he let out a silent laugh at you. He shook his head, helmet rotating from side to side, “It’s only been a couple hours, we’ll see,” Mando drawled. Light glinted off the beskar donning his head as he turned to observe the surrounding woods. 

Bending down, you began to assess the leaves of the first plant to identify. The veins were parallel, running side by side to each other. Leaf arrangement was alternate, no two leaves shared the same growth point on the stem. No vein on the plant touched. They all went and came from the same direction, never meeting.

The second plant had net-like veining on its leaves. Veins crossed and morphed into each other. Leaf arrangement was opposite. Pairs of leaves pinched the stem with their petioles and crossed it perpendicularly. Every feature on the small herb met and weaved together. Each vein could only be minutely distinguished among the web of veins working together to keep the plant alive. 

Stenica aparinese and Wortanum tortanumus.

The pair of you haven’t met before. You knew nothing about the beskar man, besides that he didn’t talk much. But it had only been a few hours, as Mando said before, and you still don’t feel like your paths have crossed. Even though you two have been walking side by side. 

—

You completed ten samplings before you decided to call it a day. Squatting over plants and counting petals wasn’t mentally difficult, but it was physically. Knees aching and thighs burning, you two made your way through the maze of trees. The holopad glowed in the fading sunlight and aided you in finding the nearest safehouse. 

Footsteps created a chorus of crunches that echoed off the tree trunks. Your gait was focused on avoiding the small, rare plants on the forest floor. Occasionally, you’d stop to get a closer look at some—having never seen them before. 

Mando would pause behind you. His large hands settled on his belt, palm resting near his blaster. The helmet swiveled from side to side as he dragged his gaze over the forest. He would wait patiently near you as you took notes about the species, attempting to identify it. 

“Are we good to go?” He’d grit out after a couple minutes. 

You stood up from a squat and clicked the holopad off, throwing him a quick nod. The crunching chorus resumed, feet finding pockets of common grasses and clovers. Mando’s heavy boots tried to fall within the same pockets of green that yours did, but his success was debatable. 

Sunlight shining down from the canopy became scarce, but not obsolete. The blaster hanging in a holster on your hip tapped against your thigh. The crunches caused by footsteps were accompanied by a cadence of muted pats.

Mando cleared his throat, a sound that choked out of the helmet’s modulator, “Do you know how to use that thing?” The beskar man asked.

You turned to face him, stopping in your tracks. You’ve never had to shoot it, the blaster hung from a holster just in case you needed it. But it can’t be that hard, right? Just point and shoot.

“I mean, yeah,” you shrugged, “you just point and shoot.” Thinking that was an acceptable answer for Mando, you turned to continue towards the safehouse.

“Just point and shoot?” Dry exasperation churned out like gravel from his helmet. 

Lips became a line on your face, and your torso faced him again. Before you could start speaking, he cut you off. “You haven’t used it, have you?” Mando sighed.

You crossed your arms over your chest, exhaustion took over your expression, “Why does it matter? Does a Mandalorian need back up?”

Head turning, your footsteps resumed towards the safehouse. The holopad indicated it was less than fifty meters away. A warm shower and a comfy mattress sounded better than a shooting tutorial—from a man destined to be far better at it than you—would be.

Mando sighed and continued behind you. “What’s the point of carrying a blaster if you don’t know how to use it? If you’ve never shot it?” His helmet gave his tone a sharp edge.

“So I can look like I know how to use it. I don’t want to use it.” 

It was true. You didn’t know what you would do if you actually had to use it. Your biology courses always talked about the fight or flight response, but they rarely talked about freeze.

That’s probably what you would do. You’d freeze. 

“Firing bad shots at someone who does know how to use it, makes you look like you don’t know how to use it,” Mando said matter-of-factly. 

Shoulders dropping, you sighed and trekked forwards. “Look, I know that the bolt comes out of the barrel and to point it at what I want to shoot. And pulling the trigger fires the blaster. I feel like that’s good enough for now,” you rebuked. 

Thankfully, Mando dropped the subject, since the gray exterior of the safehouse came into view. The small building formed a basic cube of cement walls. Only a few windows interrupted the slabs of stone, and they were dark, bleak. Near the tree-brown door was the only sign that the safehouse wasn’t a long-lost monument—a glowing, yellow keypad. If you were the only humans in the forest, the safehouse shouldn’t have been used since last year. 

Approaching the brown door, you dug into your memory for the code that allows entry. Karga asked you what code you wanted when he had them built throughout the forest. 

That’s right! The code is your birth date.

You pressed the corresponding keys, the yellow glow bathed your fingertips in a warm light. The brown door slid open once the last key was pressed. Before you could even find the kriffing lightswitch, a crackle came from behind your head.

“What’s the code?” Mando asked with intention.

Mando must have assumed that you knew where the lightswitch was, because he continued his path over the threshold and directly into your back. The momentum from his body ramming into yours made you stumble, falling towards the wooden floors. You brought your arms up to brace yourself for the harsh impact.

And they hit nothing.

Instead, a large, gloved hand settled on your stomach and pulled you upwards. The muscles of his arm pressed against your side and burned their warmth into your skin. Suddenly, you were back on your feet and the lights were turned on.

You turned around, eyes wide in shock at the speed of events. Mando’s gloved finger dropped from its position under the switch. “Sorry about that,” he sighed.

Acting like he didn’t just seamlessly haul you back to your feet with one arm.

A feeling that was foreign—but not too foreign—seeped from your chest down to your stomach. The ticklish warmth emanated throughout your body in all directions. The same feeling you opted to tune out at while you were at university. Shit.

One guy put a hand on you and now you have butterflies? C’monnn. 

Just like every other time, you blockade the warmth from spreading too far out. Mentally, barricades went up before the feeling could leave your torso. It’s better to stay focused on the task at hand.

Shhkt.

The Mandalorian pressed a button that triggered the door to slide closed.

“Um…”

Were you supposed to thank him? Scold him? Leave it at that? Your mouth tightened and you gave the Mandalorian a curt nod and a, “Thanks.” 

Before receiving his reaction, you turned your back to him to assess the layout of the safehouse. A small, cozy living room with a fireplace filled up most of the space to your left. Knit blankets were draped over the thick cushions that sat upon the wooden furniture frames. 

The space continued into the equally small kitchen. Basic silver appliances filled up most of the kitchen space. Simple, gray pantry doors blended with the small, semi-shiny machines. On the right of you were two doors, one you assumed contained the fresher, and the other containing beds.

Turning to your left, you removed your bag and plopped onto the thick cushions of the couch. The burning in your legs made you unconcerned about making food for dinner or discussing sleeping arrangements.

The burning—or maybe lack thereof—in Mando’s thighs didn’t dissuade him from being persistent.

Mando sauntered over to the couch you were laying on. The thunks of his heavy footsteps became louder as he grew nearer. “Are you going to tell me the code?” Mando’s helmet came into your line of sight as he towered over your slumped figure.

You groaned, “Are you going to stop walking into me?”

The horizontal line of his visor tilted in your view, signifying a, “really?” emotion. His shoulders dropped, “I just want to be able to get in and out of the houses.”

Begrudgingly you told him the code, “It’s my birthday,” you explained.

“Oh, uh, happy birthday.” He gave you a curt nod and turned to walk into the kitchen.

A small smile spread across your face, and you sighed once more, “Today isn’t my birthday, metal man, the code is my birthday.” You propped one of your elbows on the couch to look over the back of the couch at him. He stood against the small metal sink, arms crossed. His large hands grasped his biceps on each side of him. The Mandalorian made the sink look like he stole it from a child’s playset. 

Once your gaze landed on him, his shoulders slumped. The T-shaped visor looked away from you and towards a map displayed on the wall. Silence ensued over the space. You too glanced at the map—yet there was nothing particularly noteworthy about it.

Mando’s visor pivoted on his shoulders and returned your gaze. After a few seconds his helmet crackled to life, “You’re getting a shooting lesson tomorrow morning.”

Your brows furrowed together and slanted downwards. “Ugggghh. I thought I told you I was good for now,” you gritted out. You let your elbow give out from underneath you and you flopped back down onto the couch cushions. 

A rumbling noise came from over the back of the couch. Footsteps followed. The heavy boots Mando wore sent muted dunks your way—then they ceased. A black T framed by silver entered your view yet again.

“I’m not good with it. Tomorrow morning after you eat,” Mando finalized.

You maintained “eye contact” with him after you rolled your eyes. Instead of staying awake—sore—and putting up with his banthashit, you willed your body to get up and to one of the wooden doors on the right side of the safehouse. Bending down, you scooped your bag onto your shoulder. Hopefully the room was the fresher.

A few paces. The turn of a doorknob. Creaking door opened. A sink, similar to the one in the kitchen, welcomed you with—metal arms? Either way, you were glad to be able to get to clean yourself after a long day. The heavy backpack slid from your shoulder and onto the floor in front of the silver sink.

Turning to close the door, you look up and Mando’s stare is directed at you. An eyebrow of yours raised, directed at him. He began to saunter over to the door next to the freshers’. His bag hung from a large, closed fist at his side.

His frame passed the threshold, making the rectangular entrance appear much smaller. A heavy object hit something soft. Hopefully Mando was finally laying down so you could be left alone. You paused for a couple seconds to see if the heavy footsteps would resume—but nothing.

Relief flooded your body, giving you the idea to close the door and get ready for the night. Water washed away the remnants of soil, tiny pieces of bark, and fragments of shed leaves from your skin. Liquid that once ran dark down the fresher drain steadily turned clear. Your body was a sponge, sucking the warmth from the water into your bones.

You finished your pre-sleep routine and ventured over to the room that contained the beds. Calling it a bedroom was too homey for this space. It was more of a room bunk beds would be kept in at camping lodges. Except there were only two adult-sized beds. And Mando’s confusedly still-silver frame covered most of the bed he chose. He laid on the mattress like someone was giving a eulogy—for him.

Peeling your gaze away from the Mandalorian’s mummy-like body, you peeled back the blankets and shuffled onto the mediocre mattress. You faced away from Mando, getting a nice view of a generic forest picture framed on the wall. It was the only decoration in the room.

“Night, metal man,” you murmured. He was already asleep, why not tease him again?

The helmet crackled to life.

“Metal man earned you one lesson. Say it again and you’ll earn another,” the words gritted out from the beskar helmet.

You laid in your bed, wide-eyed. Not knowing what to say, and honestly too tired to have this conversation, you opted to say nothing. After a couple moments, you heard shuffling from over your shoulder. The helmet crackled once more.

“Night.”

Your eyes drooped once your brain knew that social interaction was no longer required for the night. The pillow beneath your head lulled your slumber closer and closer.

“Ruus,” came from behind you.

Too tired. So sleepy. You’ll ask in the morning.

—

You woke up to birds chirping. Their calls and songs came in through your cracked bedroom window. Naturally, your brain deciphered the individual calls.

Cheep. Cheep. Cheep.

Shrrrrrk. Shrrrrrk.

Ki-ki-ki-ki-ki-ki.

A common house sparrow, a buzzard, and a finch.

You shuffled around in your bed seeking a couple more minutes of comfort before your alarm inevitably went off. Mattress providing a soft cushion of support for your body, pillow delightfully cold against your face, and your eyelids heavy, your body absorbed your surroundings and let them influence you. Everything influenced you to stay the fuck in bed. Shifting in and out of consciousness, your blurry dreams pulled you further into a deeper slumber. 

Dawn quickly approached, signaling for the birds to scream at each other that they’re awake. Bird calls blared through the air like tiny sirens. The rays of sunlight shone through the slits in the window blinds.

The extra-loud bird sounds snapped you out of your dreamlike state. Your gaze was trained on the warm glow of sunlight seeping into the room. Everything was natural. Ethereal. In sync and calm.

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Dank farrik. Whipping the duvet off your body and swinging your legs to let your feet touch the ground, you hurriedly zipped open your bag to find the holopad. Once your hands found it between clothes and your notebooks, you clicked it on. The bright screen made your eyes squint at the device. Clicking the screen once more, the alarm was silenced. Now that the blaring ceased, your mind began to catch up to your surroundings. 

Oh kriff, the alarm probably woke up Mando. Your voice was a whisper, “I’m sorry if that woke yo–.” You turned towards his bed and the silver frame of his body was no longer there. Once you noticed his absence, you quieted yourself and listened for any noise. Nothing.

But then you smelled caf. 

Your brain put two and two together. Your thoughts slowed down. After a second, you rummaged in your bag for a change of clothes and your toiletries. Once your outfit was changed, you strode over to the door and aimed to enter the fresher.

The wooden door opened to reveal Mando sitting on the couch, reading something on his holopad. Hopefully the helmet muffled any sounds you could make. You took one sock-clad step over the threshold. Then another. And another. Only a couple more until you reached the other door.

“Morning,” Mando’s speech crackled.

You turned towards him, holding up a hand, offering a quick, “Morning,” back. He didn’t say anything afterwards. Slunking into the fresher, you closed the door behind you and began your morning ritual. 

Mid-teeth-brushing, you remembered last night.

“You’re getting a shooting lesson tomorrow morning.”

Fuck.

Well, wouldn’t Mando remind you the moment he saw you in the morning. You didn’t even set one foot inside the safehouse before he demanded the code for the door. Maybe he forgot. You can only hope.

The wooden rectangle swung on the hinges, opening the fresher. You stepped out and made your way to the kitchen. Before you entered the pantry covered space, you glanced over Mando’s shoulder to see what he was reading. His gloved finger clicked the holopad off before you could get a good look. Silver beskar filled your vision as he leaned forward to place the holopad on the empty table in front of the couch. 

You continued to the kitchen, too hungry to care. Reaching into a cabinet, you retrieved a mug, then poured a generous amount of caf into it. In the adjacent cabinet were ration packs and miscellaneous hiking-friendly snacks. Trail mix. Jerky. Protein bars. Cans lined one section of a shelf—in case anyone wanted to craft their own meal, instead of tearing open a ration pack.

Being Nevarro’s best botanist had its perks, and one was that you helped Karga set up these safehouses. So your favorite ration packs were always in stock.

You reached for one and opened the pack, eager to satiate your stomach. Your fingers found the lip of a drawer and pulled, revealing small piles of cutlery in a wooden organizer. The same fingers danced over the utensils, determining which one you preferred. Opting for a spoon, you took the utensil and fed yourself generous spoonfuls. Hiking did a number on your hunger, plus you needed the energy.

After a few sips of your caf, finishing half the mug, and a ration pack, you leaned against the counter and observed the back of Mando. His large frame nearly spanned across an entire couch cushion. Silver donned his shoulders and traveled its way down his arms, towards his hands. He spread his wingspan across the couch, exaggerating his size—not that he needed to. The Mandalorian’s leather-clad fists also donned beskar on top of them. One of his fists flexed and relaxed in a slow rhythm. 

Bubbling began at the center of your stomach, threatening to boil over into the rest of you. Heat bloomed near your face at the sight of him.

Nope. Not happening.

You peeled your gaze away from his figure and went to wash the mug. Thoughts wandered and yours landed on how Mando still hasn’t mentioned the lessons. Maybe you got off this time, you got lucky. Warm water poured over your grasp. Suds coated the shiny surface of the ceramic drinkware. The faucet let out a steady stream of water, and it dribbled against the metal lining of the sink. Soundwaves from the water traveled to your ears, which blocked the sounds of Mando’s footsteps approaching the kitchen.

You shut the faucet off and turned to place the mug back into the cabinet. The Mandalorian’s towering beskar figure standing in the space between the living room and the kitchen made you gasp in a lungful of air. 

The modulator in his helmet crushed the tone of the sentence he spoke, “Let’s go, time for your lesson.”

Shit.

—

“You’re holding it wrong,” Mando stated sternly.

You sighed and rolled your eyes at him, “I’ve been holding it for, like, ten seconds. Not even.” Instead of focusing on the black T stamped on his silver helmet, you shifted your attention to the stump of a fallen tree. It was covered in moss and mushrooms, decaying. The fallen trunk with dense branches sprawled out on the forest floor behind the stump. Light could barely make it through the thick foliage.

Metal man insisted that the lesson should take place at a location far from the safehouse, “to keep it hidden, in case anything hears the blaster shots,” he reasoned. You supposed that it wasn’t a bad explanation, but the hike before your lesson was challenging. Mando guided you through the forest for so long, you thought he forgot about the lesson. But he didn’t. And this lesson sucked.

You were having more fun looking at the ground around you. A couple different leaf shapes popped out at you from below. Flowers were scattered throughout the area, and you matched them to their respective leaves, giving you quick identifications. 

Mando used one of his gloved fingers to tap you on the shoulder. The gesture returned you to the present moment from your resentful thoughts. His leather-gloved hands gripped his own blaster. It was much larger than yours, yet his grasp consumed the handle of the weapon. Another broad, gloved hand covered the one gripping the handle. 

Your hands attempted to match him on your own blaster. It was clear that you were struggling. Eyes in slits and brows furrowed, your gaze repeatedly shifted from his grip to your grip. Fingers stumbled to find their rightful places. Instead of giving up, you settled on something that sort of resembled the position his hands were in. 

His helmet tilted downwards at you and cocked to the side, another expression of, “really?” This gesture seemed common with him. Metal clicked onto metal when Mando re-holstered his blaster. Then, his hands were on your blaster, giving the weapon a slight tug to release it from your grip.

You thought he was going to demonstrate on your considerably smaller blaster. Instead, he grabbed the barrel of the blaster and pointed the handle at you. His other hand reached for your wrist. Worn, warm leather slid against your skin. A wide palm rested against the back of your hand. Thick fingers formed a loose—but stern—grip around the base of your palm. 

His hand was so warm. And strong. Every movement was done with purpose and confidence. The grip he had on your hand guided yours to the handle. Once you grasped the metal you expected him to let go, but his hold remained. Small flecks of light glinted off the barrel of the weapon when Mando turned your wrist.

Light shined off the helmet as well. He leaned down to check if your fingers were in the right places. Spotting an incorrect placement, he used his other hand to nudge a finger downwards and onto the handle. He nodded, “Good.”

The short praise sent heat flying towards your face, and you willed for it to sink back down. His thumb shifted on your wrist, giving you slight goosebumps. How could his fingers be that thick? And his hands so strong? What would they feel li—.

You backtracked in your head. Nope. You didn’t want to go there. You had one hundred days in this forest with this guy, and you had a job to do.

Mando took your other hand with his other hand, and placed it on top of the one gripping the handle. The hold he had over the new hand tightened. In exchange, your own grip tightened over the handle.

“This hand,” he tightened his grasp once more, “squeezes down on this hand,” he rasped as he shook the wrist holding onto the warming metal. Each squeeze threatened the bubbling in your stomach to evaporate into the rest of your body, but you repressed it. Managing to control your pointless butterflies, you did as he explained, and the hold you maintained felt better than it did previously. 

As you raised the blaster up towards your eye level, Mando stepped away. Shutting one eye, you looked down the barrel and at the old tree stump. Your arms were both steady and relaxed. Remembering only the second half of Mando’s lecture from earlier, you spaced your feet shoulder width apart, and squeezed your grip around the trigger.

A bolt shot out of the end of the silver barrel and into the top of the tree stump—much higher than where you aimed. Crackling came from your right, “The piece of metal at the end of the barrel needs to line up with the notches above the trigger.”

You let out a heavy exhale, that information was in the second half of his lecture, “That’s what I did,” you told him. He let out an exhale in response, but his was in amusement, “Well, you didn’t hit the center,” his head jerked towards the stump to make his point.

He stood with his hands on his belt, shoulders back, with one knee out. Chrome plated armor gleamed from the sun coming in through the forest's canopy. His dark leather and clothing contrasted the bright metal. Without seeing his face, you knew he had a smirk on it. 

You huffed as you turned towards him, “If it’s so easy, why don’t you do it?”

He gave you his signature head tilt towards the side, “You know that I would hit it,” he stated.

Honestly, you knew he could. The man is fully decked out in beskar armor and carries several weapons with him at all times. But you were fed up with the slight smugness he exuded. “Do it,” you challenged him.

Before you could even register he was doing so, he pulled his blaster from its holster. With a firm grip and confident aim, his blaster bolt hit dead center into the tree stump. Just as quickly as he pulled it out, he re-holstered his blaster and looked at you. 

His incoming responses went through your mind, “It’s because I don’t suck,” “Don’t even bother,” “Why’d you buy a blaster in the first place?”

“Just try again,” his helmet gritted and the black T shook from side to side, “I’ve just been doing this longer than you have. It takes practice.”

Without thinking, you responded, “And what is ‘this’?” The Mandalorian gave you a stare—not like it wasn’t always a stare—but his helmet didn’t move a bit, unlike the usual tilts and shakes you had been getting. 

“If by ‘this’ you mean shooting, then I’ve been shooting since I could hold a blaster. If you mean my profession, my occupation has required shooting since I’ve been an adult,” his voice stated, sounding like churning gravel.

Both of your eyebrows lifted and your eyes widened. You tried to hide it, but you probably failed. Only a few professions in the galaxy required shooting all of the time.

“So you’re a bounty hunter?” You asked with confusion, your mouth semi-dry.

Mando nodded, “Yes, now try again,” he pointed towards the stump.

‘Okay cool, we’re just going to gloss over that one?’, you thought. Instead of voicing your inner monologue, you raised the blaster once more. The metal lined up with the notch and you squeezed the trigger. Your shot landed half a meter above Mando’s. It was far from his shot, but much closer than your previous one.

“Better. But you flinched,” Mando critiqued. His gloved hands rested on his hips and his visor bored into you. 

Trying again, the notch lined up with the metal as you peered down the barrel. Instead of holding your aim and then getting ready to fire, you fired as soon as your barrel lined up with the center of the stump. Energy left the end of the blaster and shot into the decaying wood. It landed about fifteen centimeters above Mando’s.

You heard crunching on the ground as the Mandalorian walked towards you. Lowering your blaster, you pointed the barrel at the ground. Maker, if he showed you how to hold the blaster again, you were going to lose it. Once he reached you, he stood in front of you, hands clasped in front of his belt buckle.

The helmet crackled to life, “Good job. Those were better than my first shots,” he stated plainly, then turned, “Let’s get going.” Before waiting for your response, he continued on into the dense forest.

—

The section of the forest you just entered was darker than any other area the pair of you had been in previously. Light barely made its way down from the forest canopy. Shade-loving plants bathed in the lack of light. Small rodents scampered from shrub to shrub, picking the fruits off of their stems. Scuttles were heard in all directions, creating a chorus of sounds influenced by food-web interactions. 

Mando decided to lead the way. His helmet remained on a swivel as he constantly scanned the area. You had been this way before and knew there was nothing harmful, it was just dark and ‘scary’.

Then the scuttles stopped. And in response, Mando stopped. Which made you run right into the back of him. “Ufff!” You let out as your chest collided with his back. Rough, black fabric scratched against your face. It smelled like wood and musk, but in a good way. Did he usually smell like that or was it just the forest?

You pushed yourself off of him and stayed behind. Mando held a hand out to his side in a, ‘stay behind me’, signal. Everything froze, and left you freezing with it.

Then you felt it.

The ground shook softly. A steady rhythm of shakes became increasingly more intense. Trees sensed the waves too, as their leaves rattled above. You looked downwards and noticed that Mando retrieved his blaster from its holster. His stare was locked forwards. Almost as if he was looking beyond the dense foliage into the distance.

Dun. Dun. DUN.

Each shake caused your feet to vibrate in your boots. And then they stopped. In front of you, the large silhouette of a creature made its way through the foliage and towards you both. You squinted into the darkness in an attempt to identify the creature.

And Mando fired his blaster.

[startrekfangirl2233-writes]

Sickles, Snowflakes, & Sharks

Robert 'Bob' Floyd x Reader

Description: When you find yourself in the hospital fretting over a friend, the last thing you expect is a chance at love. One handsome doctor, some shitty hospital coffee, sickles, snowflakes, and a shark is apparently all you need.

Warnings: Hospitals, Doctors, Mentioned injury to the arm, Mentions of blood

Word Count: 3712

Author Note: Hiya everyone! This is from a request submitted by @emma8895eb. They sent in a gorgeous picture set of Lewis Pullman from Lessons in Chemistry and requested an AU of Bob being a doctor. The gifs of the scene were indeed soft and fluffy, so of course, I had to write a soft and fluffy little fic to accompany them!

Thanks to @horseshoegirl for beta-reading this fic for me!

My Masterlist

AO3: Cross-posted Here!

Wattpad: Cross-posted Here!

You haven’t been in a hospital since you were very young. So, it figures your return is due to the fact one of your friends decided to be completely idiotic and stupid in the middle of the night. Who in the world thought it was a good idea to drink in the middle of a snowstorm in a barn? 

It's a rhetorical question, of course. Only your friends, your roommates, would choose to do that. As if that wasn't stupid enough, they also decided to jump from the hayloft into the colossal pile of fragrant hay. One of them, Jake, because of course it was him, ended up impaling himself on a still sharp sickle. You were the only sober member of the party, so the consequences had been up to you to handle.

At least you managed to keep him from yanking the blade out of his forearm. You'd run out to the main house in the snow, swathed his arm in towels, and loaded him into your truck. The next step involved booking it to the hospital, of course, but that is easier said than done when it feels like an entire glacier was raining down over your head. The temperature on the dash was edging towards -15°F, and even with the heat blasting, you could hear Jake’s teeth chatter. Something told you he's going into shock. e His eyes were fever-bright, and he hadn't spoken in nearly twenty minutes. If you knew anything about Jake Seresin, the man couldn't shut up if he tried.

So your face is pinched, and it feels like you've got an elephant sitting on your chest when you roar into the Emergency Room drop-off loop with a squeal of brakes and rocket yourself out of the vehicle. You slam the driver's door shut and call for a couple of the nurses in scrubs nearby to help you get Jake out of the truck. Unsurprisingly, maneuvering Jake out of his seat, all six feet of him, is far harder than you think. Also unsurprising is how Jake is laid on a gurney and taken straight away to get some painkillers and X-rays done. Shortly after, while you're pacing the hallway outside the waiting room, a very nice ER Doctor comes out to tell you Jake needs surgery and is being carted away to the OR at that very moment. You can't help but feel a little like a marionette with its strings cut at the news.

When you slump, finally, into a hard-backed chair outside of a surgical suite, you're so tired you could cry. With adrenaline coursing through your system, your hands shake, and you're shivering, too. Of course, given your panic, you also completely forgot to grab a coat or gloves. So you’re sitting in the hospital with snow melting into your hair and soaking into the hem of your jeans. Your feet feel like ice, and you’re so worried you can’t sit still.

“Hey.”

“Hey!”

You blink, and all of a sudden, someone is crouching in front of you. He’s wearing scrubs and a white doctor’s coat. There are wire-rimmed glasses perched on his nose, and his blue eyes seem to twinkle in the sterile lights.

“Are you okay?” His voice is soft but warm.

When you look at your shaking hands, they are coated in rust, the color staining your skin in streaks.

“I, I don’t know.” Your voice sounds strangled as you choke the words out.

“Do you want to get cleaned up a little?” You nod, a little jerky bobble of your head up and down. His hands are warm as they cover yours, stalling the shivers as they pull you up.

“Truth be told,” He ducks in closer, murmuring into your ear in a way that should not be as sexy as it is, “I'm not supposed to be doing this.”

“But,” His voice makes sparks light up in your chest as he leads you into an elevator and up two floors. He keeps his hand hovering at the small of your back, close enough that you can feel the heat of his skin through your thin t-shirt. “What are the rules for if you can't break them every once in a while?”

The door he opens leads you to a locker room. You’re tongue-tied standing in such close quarters with this beautiful stranger. He turns, and the look of concentration on his face as he tugs out a spare set of scrubs takes your breath away.

“If I didn't know any better, I'd think you made a habit of doing this to unsuspecting girls covered in blood.”

“I, uh… I don't.”

“So why me? You don't even know my name. Nor do I know yours, for that matter.”

“Oh!” His laugh feels like champagne bubbles bursting across your tongue. “I’m Bob. Bob Floyd, I'm a trauma surgeon here at the hospital.”

“Well, Dr. Floyd.” You smile at the slight blush on the apples of his cheeks and introduce yourself. “You seem awfully familiar with breaking the rules for a man of your stature.”

“A man of my stature?”

“Yeah, sweet and kind. Bespectacled.”

“Bespectacled?” 

“Yeah.”

His eyes crinkle with the force of his laugh as he tips his head back. A curl hangs over his forehead, and if your hands weren’t covered in blood you’d push it off his forehead for him.

“C’mon, silly girl. Get cleaned up. I’d love to continue this conversation when you don’t look like Carrie.”

Is it wrong to lay the moves on the hot trauma surgeon when one of your friends is in surgery? Your conscious mind is telling you it’s probably not the most moral of things to do. But the other part of you, the part routinely indulging in romances and squealing at the thought of a meet-cute, is begging you to hold onto the opportunity with both hands. You'd truly be stupid not to, you rationalize as you soap up your skin using the bottle of ginger and orange soap Doctor Bob gave you. It smells amazingly, mouth-wateringly delicious, and a part of you wonders if it smells as good on his skin as it does on yours. But you derail the thought before it goes any further and step out of the shower, shivering a little in the cold hospital air.

Goosebumps rise on your arms as you pull on the scrubs before bunching up your soiled clothes. What’s the likelihood Bob’s still out there? He’s probably gotten a call or something and needs to prep for surgery, right? There are probably a million better things he could be doing. You should return to the surgical suites and see if you can coax some information about Jake from a nice-looking nurse.

When you peek around the door, you're surprised to find Dr. Floyd is still there, arms crossed against the broad expanse of his chest, blue eyes narrowed in thought. Your eyes widen, taking in just how handsome this man is. With long legs, made even longer by the slim-fitting scrubs, muscular arms, broad chest, and slim waist, it feels like you're on a roller coaster ride because a flirty stranger shouldn't be this alluring. Of course, your favorite part of him has to be his eyes, navy blue and mercurial, the color seeming to shift depending on his mood and the atmosphere around him. They sparkle in the sterile lights when you step through the door, absolutely dwarfed by the scrubs on your body.

“Thank you for this, truly.” The words trip off your tongue in a futile attempt to stop the awkwardly shy way you've been staring at him.

“I was happy to.” Your breath catches as he steps forward, handing you soft, dark fabric. “Wear this, you look cold.”

Looking at the fine hairs rising on your arms and how your skin textures from the drafty, antiseptic-smelling breeze, it’s an offer you’re only too glad to accept from this sweet doctor.

“Would you, um…” When he drags his fingers through his perfectly coiffed hair, dislodging a curl that falls across his brow, you itch to push it back into place. “Would you like to grab a cup of coffee with me? You don’t have to if you don’t want to. I’m sure you’d rather check on your friend.”

He’s babbling, and you feel bad as you toe at the pristine tile, murmuring, “I should probably check on Jake.”

It’s his turn to toe at the tile. A part of you is tickled to see he has a charm on his crocs in the shape of the blue shark from that Korean baby shark song.

“What would you say, sweetheart, if I told you I set it up so my colleagues would page me when your friend’s procedure is done?”

You’ve got bubbles crawling up your esophagus, popping blithely in your mind as you look up at this tall, broad man with the countenance of a puppy.

“I'd ask if the coffee in the cafeteria was any better than the cups dispensed out of the machine down the hall.”

“It's a little bit better than the machine, yeah.” There's something like a smile on his face as he looks down at you, blue eyes crinkling in joy.

“Then lead the way, Dr. Floyd.” Your cocked eyebrow and broad grin make him smile more, the curve of his lips growing as he tugs you in the other direction when you start walking the wrong way.

He makes you feel a little giddy as he walks you down to the cafeteria with his hand against the small of your back. When there are two cups of coffee in front of you, your confidence falls completely flat. It’s like you’re no longer sure what to say anymore. Dr. Floyd seems to be just as stymied for words as you are. 

You sip on the bitter coffee because your hands are fidgeting and restless. He’s right about the coffee. It’s better than the machine coffee, but not by much. You fish for something to say because it’s awkward sitting in silence while staring at your coffee. If you’re not looking at your cup, you’re staring at your fingers, with nails clipped short and calloused with your work around the ranch. You can’t bring yourself to look your fill at Dr. Floyd, so you sneak looks at him as you fidget.

“So,” you smile, the gesture feeling awkward as your muscles contort. “How’d you get the baby shark charm on your Crocs, Dr. Floyd?”

He chuckles, eyes flashing behind his glasses as he sips his coffee. 

“Would you believe it if I told you I’ve only been at this hospital for a few months now?”

You grin softly at him. It looks like he’s thinking about how to describe the shark charm best, brow furrowed and lips pursed. All you want is to know what’s going on in his head. So you’re content to sit in silence.

“My first rotation here was in the pediatric surgery ward. This adorable little girl was going in for open heart surgery. She was heart-breakingly beautiful, with the prettiest smile, despite how sick she was.”

“Is she okay now?” The words trip out of your mouth without your permission.

“Yeah, she’s perfect.” He’s smiling. “I kept her calm before she went under and greeted her when she woke up with a big stuffed shark from the toy store.” He grins conspiratorially at you. “They didn’t have any sharks in the hospital gift shop. She was so happy to see me that it nearly made me cry. She begged her mom and dad to get me a shark charm for my Crocs before she was released to go home. I’ve been wearing it ever since.”

You’re smiling now in total, and when you shyly glance up at him, he’s smiling a smile that mirrors yours. “You sound like you love what you do, Doctor.”

“Call me Bob. Please.” He grins, and you shudder when you feel his feet tangle with yours beneath the plastic table. “Dr. Floyd is my dad. I still recoil and fight this urge to turn around to see if he’s behind me when I hear that name.”

“Bob, it is.” You giggle a little as you sip on your coffee. “So, you don’t swoop in like a knight in shining armor for any old catatonic girl covered in blood sitting in the waiting area?”

“I don’t.” He cards his fingers through his hair, “You’re special, believe it or not.”

You giggle a little uncomfortably. “How so?”

“You looked like you could use some help. It’s true what I said earlier. I rarely find pretty girls in the waiting room and show them places to get cleaned up. That seems to be something I only do for you.”

His smile fades a little then, brow furrowing again. If you were bolder you’d reach out to brush the wrinkled skin smooth again.

“You looked so lost. It’s weird because I didn’t even know your name.” When he says it, it feels like he’s tasting it on his tongue - and it looks like he likes your name in his mouth, too.

“I just wanted to make you smile and flirt a little bit, too.” When he lifts his eyes back up to meet yours, he’s smiling shyly. “So, is it working?”

You grin back and slide your hand out until you can take his hand. If anything, it stops his fidgeting.

“What’s the likelihood of a girl getting a nice piece of cake here?

 “I hate to break it to you, Sugar, but we’re in a hospital. The only dessert we’ve got in Jello.”

“Sugar?” 

He smiles. “Yeah, you’re sweet like sugar, especially when you smile at me like that. Give me a second. Let me see what I can get for you.”

When Bob stands up from the chair and strides over to the long counter, he gives you a little bit of room to breathe. It shouldn’t be this easy to fall for a man you barely know. There’s a reason why you were goofing around with your friends in an abandoned barn in the middle of a snowstorm, after all. You don’t have a lot of time for fun anymore.

You haven’t since inheriting the ranch from your great-aunt three years ago. There just hadn’t been enough time. In between getting the ranch running again and taking care of all of the animals, you’ve barely been sleeping. There was always something you needed to take care of, whether it was patrolling around the herds to make sure the coyotes hadn’t gotten them or spending hours going over the accounts to make sure there was enough money for food and medicine - for the humans and the animals.

The first calving season had brought you Jake and Natasha in the middle of a rainstorm. They’d originally stayed just to help with a breech calf, and you’d asked them to stay permanently when you saw how the herd responded to Jake’s soft Texan burr and how at home Natasha had been on horseback under the cornflower blue sky, the wind teasing her hair out from its ponytail. Since then, it’s been the three of you and more animals than each of you know how to handle.

You don’t know for sure, but sometimes you think there’s something between your two friends. It’s easy to notice when you spend most of your day only with the two of them or with the animals on the farm. Maybe you should have let Nat drive Jake to the hospital. But with Betsie foaling soon and Nat one of the only people she trusted, you had no choice. You fumble for your phone, digging it out of your bag, and make sure you haven’t missed any calls or messages from your friend.

Betsie’s in labor. I’ve called Doc McCoy. I don’t know if he’ll make it out to the ranch in time, but don’t worry. You take care of Jake. I’ve got Betsie. Let me know when he’s okay.

She sounds angry or maybe stressed; her words sound clipped even over the phone. Either you’ll have to do a lot of groveling or plan to get her some time alone with Jake.

“Is everything okay?”

Your smile feels like it’s disappeared into thin air - like you couldn’t find it if you tried. Your light, easy demeanor is gone, and the burdens of your day-to-day life are back. But you still try to curve your lips up in Bob’s direction.

“Yeah, yeah.” You accept the plate of jiggling multi-colored Jello from him. “One of our mares is foaling back on the ranch. When it rains, it pours, I guess.”

“Is everything alright? Do you need to run back there?” 

You poke lacklusterly at the jiggling sweet as you ponder how to respond to his earnest query. “No. Nat’s the only person the mare in question, Betsie, trusts.”

He blinks gently at you before nudging the Jello closer. “C’mon. You’ll feel better if you eat something.” His tone is quietly wheedling, and his blue eyes sear into you as you scoop a bite of the jiggling sweet into your mouth.

For several moments, it’s quiet. You can taste the artificial fruit as the Jello melts on your tongue. Inexplicably, it calms you as the sugar hits your stomach and dissipates the shadows brought on by stress.

“How long have you had the ranch?” Bob’s gently warm voice feels like being wrapped in blankets.

It feels like you’re wrapped in a dream, you and this handsome doctor, as you let the story spill into the quiet midnight atmosphere. There’s nobody else in the cafeteria with you, and it feels like there’s nobody else in the world. Maybe you shouldn’t share your struggles, things you haven’t told another soul, with a man you’ve only just met. But the stories spill off your tongue sweetly.

“The ranch is beautiful on winter mornings,” your voice is quiet as you intermittently sip your coffee. “It almost feels like a completely different universe.”

“What’s your favorite part of those winter mornings?”

 Before you can respond, his phone rings. In an instant, it’s like the man you’ve been talking to for so long is a completely different person. His face shutters, his smiling mouth going flat as he listens to the voice spilling down the line. He hums and nods, all those little noises people make when they’re listening, spilling out in his rich, lush voice. You find yourself liking this side of Bob too - the doctor side.

When he hangs up the call and stands up, you scramble to join him in collecting the mugs of long-cold coffee and empty plates.

“Your friend, Jake?” Your head snaps up so fast you nearly give yourself whiplash. “He’s coming out of surgery now. They’re moving him into one of the Post-Anesthesia Care Units. My colleagues on the surgical team say he’s going to be fine. He’ll have to stay at the hospital for another couple of days. He’ll also have to be careful of his arm and not lift anything heavy for the next little while. But he’s going to heal up perfectly.”

You nearly crumple with relief as you follow Bob to the recovery rooms and take your spot next to Jake. The first thing you do when you see Jake again is text Natasha. Between phone calls with Natasha and talking to Jake’s doctors, you lose sight of Bob. As the days pass in trips between the ranch and the hospital, in talking to Natasha, in crying when you see your best friend finally open his eyes when the anesthesia wears away, you’re not sure you’ll ever see Dr. Floyd again. 

Was he just a figment of your imagination in the dark hours of night?

You’re signing the last discharge forms two days later when you finally see him again.

“Hey.” He looks sheepish, a small grin curling the corners of his mouth up as he tries valiantly to ignore Jake and Natasha, bickering off to the side.

“Hey.”

“They’re discharging him today, huh?”

You grin at him. “Yeah. I’m glad he’s alright.”

“W-would you maybe want to have coffee sometime, again? Or maybe dinner?” Your heart stutters in its steady beat as you process the words. There’s something like hope growing in your chest before reality rears its ugly head.

“I’d love to. But with the ranch, I’m not sure how feasible it would be to drive an hour into town to have coffee.”

The light in his beautiful blue eyes dims. “Oh.”

“Maybe I can come down to the ranch, then?”

You smile and nod. Jake and Natasha have stopped talking in the background, which means they’ve noticed your conversation with this all too handsome doctor who is wholly out of your league.

“I’d love that.”

“Here,” He hands you his phone. “Put your number in, Sugar.”

When you hand the phone back with clammy palms, he wraps his arms around you in a gentle embrace. You think you can feel the brush of his lips across your forehead.

You’ve got a giddy smile on your face all the way home. Nat and Jake are anything but silent, taking turns asking you what happened in the hospital the night you tore into the Emergency Room drop off. Nat’s a little bolder than Jake is, asking,“So, who’s the cute doctor?” as soon as you’re on the road.

You barely manage to avoid their insistent attempts at wheedling the story out of you until you’ve gotten Jake settled into his room with Nat fluttering about fussing over him. You pull your phone out again in the confines of your bedroom, far away from prying eyes and people who know you too well and can read your every facial expression. There’s a message waiting for you.

Hey, this is Bob. I’d love to come by the ranch when I’m free. Just let me know, Sugar. Hopefully, the winter view you told me about is better than my dreams. I think it will be because it’s got you in it. You have to give me my sweater and scrubs back anyway, doll. So I’ll see you soon.

I DO NOT CONSENT TO HAVE MY WORK POSTED, TRANSLATED, OR PUBLISHED ON ANY SITES OTHER THAN ON AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR ON TUMBLR BY ME. IF YOU SEE MY WORKS ANYWHERE OTHER THAN AO3, ON WATTPAD, OR TUMBLR, THEN THEY HAVE BEEN POSTED WITHOUT MY PERMISSION AND I WILL BE WORKING TO TAKE THEM DOWN.

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