#I’ve fallen so many times I need to start wearing padding

[sun-e-chips]

If the DCA community has taught me anything it’s that you can fall in love over and over and over again with the same person/robot

I love them in every universe your honor!

[lys1]

Congratulations! You waited so patiently <3 This is another Asra x fem!reader for you. NSFW. 5218 words. 

Playing With Potions

—————

The late spring morning air was warming up to be a balmy 75 degrees. You had your skirt pulled down and up, tucked in the back of the waistband, forming makeshift shorts. The shop was somewhat quiet, yet the din from the streets made its nimble way through the open windows.

You descend the ladder to the box of ingredients you were unpacking. They had come in the previous evening and Asra had promptly asked you to “organize them later”. Of course you said yes, the two of you shared this shop after all, and the work that came with it.

Asra himself was bustling behind the counter, sweeping the wooden floors free of the dust and fallen ingredients. He stops momentarily to pick up his cup of tea and take a long sip. The jasmine tea's steam billows into his face as he sighs with content pleasure.

The floorboards creak as you step down and Asra looks over at you, gaze soft. "How's the supplies look, dear?" He asks curiously, returning the cup to it’s coaster.

"Ah," you muse, counting the small containers in your hands. "Looks like we will be all set on lizard toes for a while, I think our supply captain read 1000 instead of 100." You can't help but chuckle, it couldn't be helped, at least you wouldn’t have to order more for a while.

Asra's eyes open a little wider, "oh my." He laughs, "I suppose we won’t". He sets his broom to rest against the counter and bare feet pad over to you, his deep-purple eyes examining the products.

You feel his hand settle on your waist subconsciously; a side effect of being close to one another. You breathe in lightly, smelling the sweet scent of coconut and honied biscuits wash over you. Asra's breakfast choice was apparent.

"Mm," you say, turning so the two of you were face to face. "You smell delicious."

Asra smiles, box in his hand now a little less important. "Care for a taste?" He teases, eyes falling to your parted lips. He sets his lizard toes aside and joins his other hand at your waist. You look up at him through your eyelashes and nod.

He is a mere millimeter from sealing the gap between you when the bell of the shop jingles merrily.

"Ah jeez," you huff good in good nature. "I forgot we have jobs and responsibilities."

Asra laughs at your obvious disappointment and steals a small peck. "Unfortunately, we have to eat somehow." He then turns away and walks back to the counter to greet the customer.

The man is short and has a little round face. He looks extraordinarily nervous, and this catches your attention. Yours and Asra's shop is well known in the city and the townsfolk trust their magicians. You hadn't seen anyone come in here looking so nervous, and maybe even a little embarrassed.

"What can I do for you, sir?" Asra asks charmingly, resuming his position behind the counter. Briefly you let yourself admire how nice he looks, comfortable in his shop and expertise, before turning back to the box you were supposed to be dealing with. Not, however, letting your ears miss the conversation.

"I," the man starts, already fumbling with his words. "I, well look. I need help." He finishes plainly, nervously clutching his shirt between his pudgy hands.

Asra smiles kindly, "many do." He says, tilting his head and examining his new client. "Are you here for a card reading? Need to get some answers?"

The man groans as though he is already exhausted with the conversation. "No, I already know what I need. I have the answers. I've heard about this place. The ways you can help people. I live an hour out of the market and I made this trip just to see you."

"We're flattered, for sure." Asra says calmly, you can hear slight annoyance in his tone from all the ambiguity. The visitor is none the wiser though. "To help you though," Asra continues. "I'll need to know what you need."

"Alright I need a potion," the man finally reveals. "One that will help me... with performance." His cheeks are redder than a bell pepper in the sun.

Asra raises a white eyebrow, "performance? Are you an actor?"

"No!" The man's voice came out in a strangled whisper, obviously trying to keep it down. You roll your eyes, chancing a glance over your shoulder. The shop floor wasn't that big, of course you were going to hear everything.

"No," he said again, this time a little more composed. "What I mean is... my sex life performance." The truth comes out. Your visitor wipes his forehead with a dirty rag from his pocket. "My wife and I well.. we've hit a slump," he explains. "And I've heard of potions that can help with that kind of thing. Stuff that will completely change the game." His eyes are shining now, imaging life post-performance potion.

Asra looks uncertain at best. "I see," he starts, shooting you a glance. "That.. does exists. But it takes awhile to make. And the price isn't cheap either."

You shove the last of the crow feathers into their designated drawer while listening. You have never heard of such a potion, but you were also still learning. Asra sounds a little unsure though.

"Price isn't an issue," the man sounds desperate. "I'll pay anything."

Asra sighs, he feels bad for the man wringing his hands before him, practically crying for a cure. "Alright," he finally concedes. "I'll make it, but you'll have to come back in the morning. This kind of thing takes all evening to brew."

Your customer nods vigorously, "I can wait." He says. "Tomorrow morning, yes! I'll be here!" His excitement apparent, he bows a few times while backing out of the door, tripping over his own feet.

The door closes with a sharp bang and the bell rings furiously. Asra blows air out of his mouth so that itf ruffles the curls between his eyes.

"Well," he says after a moment. "A sex performance enhancing potion was not what I was expecting to make today." He rubs his temples, eyes closed and looking thoughtful.

You grin at him from the shelf as you pick up the empty shipping box and rest it on your hip. "That's quite the name, I've never heard of a potion like that."

Asra laughs and opens his beautiful eyes to look at you. "Yes, you'll have to forgive me for not teaching you that kind of magic, it's not the.. safest." He ends uncertainly. "I don't even know how this guy found out about it. It's not talked about much amongst us magicians.. and it's certainly not a common one."

Immediately more questions than your mouth can keep up with flood your brain. "So how did you find out about it? And why isn't it safe?" You ask the two more important ones, eyes following Asra as he finds a piece of paper and quill to use.

He dips his quill in the register's ink well and starts scratching down what you presumed to be ingredients. "I've been studying magic for years, my love." He says simply, "and before you ask, no I haven't used it on myself." He looks up at you, mischief dancing in his pretty eyes. "I'd like to think my sex game is up to par." He adds innocently, licking his lips seductively when your ears tinge pink.

You brush imaginary dirt off your shirt sleeves and huff. "I suppose it's pretty good." You mumble. It almost feels like a lie to just describe it as "pretty good" but Asra doesn't need you to stroke his ego right now. You do that enough falling to pieces beneath him every night.

Asra is well aware of your attempt to keep him humble and laughs lightly. "And to answer your other question," he says, turning back to his ingredient list, "messing with ones body like this can be dangerous. You have to be very precise."

You nod as he explains, it makes sense.

Potions are always brewed in pots over a magic fire so you put yourself to work, removing a medium sized iron pot from a hook on the wall and carrying it to a fire stand. Asra is busy himself, opening various drawers and adding seemingly random ingredients to a basket he has looped over his arm. Iris petals, newt eyeball, and some shimmering gold flakes. You smile watching him, your gorgeous magician; smart and able.

In no time at all Asra has a bubbling pot of sweet smelling liquid stirring before him. You stand beside him, observing curiously.

"Why are you wearing gloves?" You ask, taking note of the large leather gloves that clad all the way up your lover's forearm.

Asra continues to stir and looks over at you, happy to hear your eagerness to learn. "I can't risk even a drop of this touching my skin. It's so strong, and will immediately absorb into anyone's skin, leaving them..." He shakes his head and trails off, amused. "That's why it has to brew so long, to burn off some of the potency."

Your mouth opens in amazement, taken aback by the idea. This is the real deal you decide, stepping back a couple inches in precaution. After watching the potion bubble for a couple more minutes you stretch and grab the watering can sitting by the floor of the door.

"I'm going to water the plants," you inform Asra, waving your hand briefly until the can is full of cool, crisp water. Gods knows there are at least three dozen inside and outside of the shop.

Asra is humming in confirmation that he heard you as you open the shop door to the plants hanging outside. You don't get very far before you're blindsided by a streak of purple darting through your legs.

Escape!

"Faust?!" You yelp, dancing around the squirming snake as she winds her way under and into the open shop. A loud, booming bark makes you jump again. This time a large hound dog is rounding the tight corner from the side street and barreling full speed towards you.

All hell breaks loose. The water can is up in the air, crashing wildly into the side of the building. You are thrown back onto the dusty floor and a mass of fur and teeth race past you, paying no mind to your yelling.

Help!

Faust is racing around the floor, narrowly avoiding the jaws of the angry dog she seemed to have aggravated. There's a large crash from inside and you cringe, hearing bottles break and wood crunch. You look back, scared at what you might find.

The shop is a disaster, papers strewn, vials broken, and potion pot toppled. Asra is groaning on the floor, obviously doing no better than the rest. You glance at him worriedly, taking quick notice of the potion he had been making spilled everywhere, even on him.

You snap your fingers and the dog's growl, who was cornering Faust by the bookshelf, turns into a whimper as you lift him up with your magic. "I'm sorry pooch," you sigh, "but we can't have you eating our friend." With a wave of your wrist the hound is out the door and down the street in an instant. The hinges creak and bell rings as the door is once again closed to outside.

Thank you!

Faust wriggles happily, red eyes glowing in relief. You guess she got up to some trouble with the local fauna. She slithers up the stairs quickly, leaving you to look around at the ruined shop.

"Ah, fuck," Asra's words cut through your thoughts like a knife. He's laying flat on the floor, chest heaving as though he just ran a marathon. Sweat glistens on his tan skin, covering him from head to toe.

You step over the broken bottles and kneel at his side. "My love?" You ask, unsure of what to do. It was obvious what had happened, it didn't take an expert. The potion that was supposed to be for your customer was now soaked into Asra's glowing skin.

Asra opens his eyes and you swallow hard. You know that look, and it nearly makes you start trembling where you sit. Lust is prevalent, clouding Asra's eyes until they're a dark amethyst color.

"You-" you start to speak but are cut off by Asra sitting up abruptly. His face is close to yours and his breath washes over your lips, hot and wanton. He looks positively desperate, just the sight of you sitting before him doing wonders.

"Please," Asra's voice comes out low and husky, he watches your chest rise and fall quickly as a result. "Can I please have you, right now."

You could almost call him asking like that soft and innocent, if it wasn't for the raw, hungry look he was giving you. His eyes were traveling everywhere across your body, leaving an invisible line that you could almost feel burning into your skin. Your lips parted and you let out a soft gasp, the power that kind of look had over you was astonishing. You shifted your legs under you subtly, feeling the result of the hot atmosphere low in your stomach.

"Tsk, tsk," you had to tease for a moment. "Closing the shop at midday for some fucking?" You reach up and cup Asra's cheek, feigning uncertainty. His skin on your fingertips burns white hot and you have to hide your amazement.

Asra's eyes narrow, he knew you too well. With a quick flick of his wrist you hear the deadbolt on the door slide into place. It's only a second later and both of his hands have found a place on either side of your hips.

"Why do you torment me?" he asks, pulling you close so your legs straddle him. "Can't you see I'm getting enough of that from this damn mistake of a potion?" His words are almost shaky, as though he can barely speak anymore. He presses his hips up to meet yours, and a soft sigh escapes his lips as he finally gets a little friction.

You dig your nails into his shoulders and gasp, the feeling of Asra so obviously in need is enough to make anyone go wild.

You can't resist grinding down lightly and Asra's eyes practically roll back at the sensation. "How can I say no to such a pretty face," you whisper, completely in love with his reaction.

That was enough for Asra and without added words he gathers you up in his strong arms and lifts you both. Your head falls back pleasurably when his lips find your neck. It only takes a few quick steps on his part to bring the two of you into the plush back room.

The purple cushions lining the cozy futon sink in gently as your back hits the mattress. The room has a slight pleasing haze as sandalwood incense burns at the table. The smell washes over your senses and a new wave of sensuality comes over the room.

Asra's hands hold you firmly as his lips continue to press lovingly into your skin. He hovers over you, one leg pressed between your legs, causing your hips to involuntarily move along his thigh.

"I need you out of these clothes," Asra groans, lips being stopped at your chest where your shirt has suddenly become a hindrance. He's already tugging at the hem, untucking the loose fabric from your waistband. You raise yourself to your elbows and help him pull the shirt over your head. At once it is thrown over Asra's shoulder and his eyes are set on your bare skin, drinking in the sight of his lover.

You smile at his admiration and lay back again, stretching your arms above your head and arching your back. You feel his hands on your stomach, traveling up to rest on your breasts. Your skin prickles with desire, flesh lighting on fire from his ministrations.

"How did I get so lucky," he breathes out, looking down at you with a look filled with love and passion. He rests the tips of his fingers on your nipples and swirls them lightly, leaving you to twist in torturous pleasure beneath his touch. "Everything about you is beautiful." Asra continues to flatter, lowering his head so his curls tickle your stomach. He licks a long line from the dip of your hip up to the valley between your breasts.

After a few moments of tasting your supple skin he moves his hands to the top of your skirt and tugs. You lift your hips in compliance and the fabric slides down your legs easily. Asra licks his lips as your body is finally fully presented to him.

"I could feast on you," he announces, voice lowered with need. "And I wouldn't go hungry in a lifetime." These words he whispers into your inner thigh, they tickle your skin softly.

You watch with bated breath as the man before you adores his lover. It's hard to keep your moans controlled as you feel his sinfully good tongue lick you in a way that can only be described as ecstasy.

Asra shifts into a more comfortable position, lying on his stomach and he brings your legs to lay comfortably over his shoulders. You shudder as you feel his hot breath flutter over your dripping slit. He doesn't waste anymore time and lowers his face to enjoy you.

Your thighs squeeze his head lightly as your body arches in response. Asra is devouring you as though you were a feast and it was the only meal he is to have in a lifetime. He grips your legs tightly to keep you from moving and covers your slit with his mouth, sucking for a moment on the tight nub at the top. He groans happily into your skin before moving down to lick your hole.

"Oh please, yes," you run your trembling hand through his hair and raise your hips up to meet his greedy mouth. He laps short, quick strokes first, stimulating you into madness.

After a moment he slows his tongue down to swirl languidly, looking up at you. You make eye contact and groan at the erotic scene of him eating you out. "That mouth of yours is too skilled for its own good," you whisper, fingers digging into his scalp, trying desperately to savor every swipe of his tongue.

Asra smiles against your folds. "I live to make you feel good, my dear." He says, pausing a moment. "You intoxicate me. Your smell, your taste. I couldn't get enough even if I had all the time in the world." He presses his lips on each one of your thighs with hot, open mouth kisses.

You blush at his words, feeling amazing under his praise. "Come here," you command softly, pulling on Asra's hair lightly to guide him back up your body. He kisses every inch of skin he passes before finally reaching your lips.

"Mm," he hums, taking your face in his hands. "But these lips, are like the finest honey in Vesuvia." He lifts your head so your mouths meet. It's a hot and feverish kiss, full of staggering amounts of love.

You press your body into his and relish in the feeling of kissing Asra. Your mouths are opened to one another and your tongues meet in fiery unison. While you enjoy the kiss you allow your hands to roam. Your fingers find his shirt buttons and you start to undo them as best you can, only a little distracted. It takes just a minute and you sigh happily into his mouth when you finally remove the annoying clothing.

You part a moment to admire the divinity of his body; prostrated before you. He was calling himself the lucky one, but you could probably make a pretty good argument for it being the other way around. He looked absolutely glorious in the hazy glow of the room.

As you reach for the waistband of his pants and rest your fingers playfully on the skin above it Asra breaks out in goosebumps at the fluttering feel of your touch.

"Ah," he breaths out, raising himself to his knees and closing his eyes. Clearly, he's enjoying the attention finally being on him.

"You are the one with the potion affecting them." You say, drawing a line from one hip to another. "It'd almost be criminal to ignore you for any longer." Your eyes fall to the bulge straining under Asra's pants, just begging to be free. A smile plays across your lips as his breaths quickens significantly.

"I.. wouldn't complain." He finally manages to say in a strained tone.

You smile, maybe a little too satisfied, and hook your fingers under the band. "I know." You chuckle, pulling. The trousers catch a moment on Asra's hardened length before slipping down to his knees. You take time to admire the sight before you, licking your lips. Asra is panting slightly, looking down at you lustfully as your eyes graze over him.

He grabs your head on either side and looks into your eyes. "Please," is all he can croak out.

You swallow thickly and you feel yourself dampen even more at his begging words. “I’d like nothing more" you say; need dripping heavily from your words. You lean forward and kiss the tip of his leaking slit lightly. Asra's body shivers with pleasure when your soft lips meet his aching shaft.

You take a breath before closing your mouth around his tip. Your cheeks hollow and you suck in deeply, enjoying the small sounds of pleasure emitting from Asra's lips. He groans even deeper as you finally swallow down his whole length, tip sliding down the back of your throat.

"Ah fuck, baby," he stutters through gritted teeth, fingers threading through your hair. He thrusts into your mouth without hesitation, reveling in the way you feel around him. The pace is fast and vicious, leaving no time for extra room for breathing.

You choke back your gasps and feel the involuntary tears prick at the corners or your eyes. Your hands fall to your sides as you let Asra use your mouth how he pleased. Licentious noises ring around the room as he sinks his member into your mouth relentlessly, moaning at each stroke and the salacious feelings that come over him.

His grip tightens in your hair as he pounds into your face. You open your mouth as widely as you can and take him in, ignoring the slight pain of labored breathing. The feeling of being used so mercilessly is intoxicating, and you close your eyes, enjoying the pleasure that overtakes you.

With a loud pop he pulls out of your drooling mouth, leaving you to be the one groaning in disappointment.

"I'm sorry love," he huffs dazedly, need heavy on his features. "But if I don't stop this now I'm cumming in your mouth."

"That doesn't sound so bad," you complain, sticking your tongue out so Asra can view how much you want it. His eyes darken considerably and he looks ready to break.

He takes a breath in sharply, steadying himself before holding your face gently in his hand. "As much as I want you fuck your face, that pussy of yours I know is dripping for me and I have to comply." He chuckles, running his thumb along your lip.

You whimper at his words, practically climaxing at the suggestion. You meet his eyes in a needy manner and nod. "Oh, Asra," you start, already seeing excitement flit across his face at the mention of his name. "I want you more than I can even describe to you."

To this Asra inhales sharply, thumb still hooked in your mouth. "Tell me how you want me," he says, barely able to contain his own desire.

"I want you to fuck me from behind," you begin, knowing exactly how to please his ears. "I'm going to cry and moan, and beg you for relief but you will know better." His eyes widen in ecstasy but you continue anyway. "I want you to give everything you can to me, without holding back."

Asra seems to snap right in front of you. His features immediately seem to plead for consolation. "You'll get what you ask for." He growls, fingers tightening in your mouth. You lick his thumb seductively and the action throws him over the edge.

Asra's hands fly to your waist and hold you firmly, you're flipped over; ass to the heavens greeting him. He swallows at the sight and digs both palms into the flesh, enjoying the feeling immensely. "So needy and ready for me," he groans, finger finding your entrance and slipping in easily. You gulp at the warmth of having fingers enter you. Asra is unrelenting and curls them cruelly against your walls.

"Just fuck me already!" You cry, unable to hide your desires anymore. You hear Asra laugh behind you, yet despite this you know he is dying to sink himself into you.

"Alright, alright." He concedes, taking your hips in his hands. "If you insist."

You feel his tip slide against your slit and shudder, craving the feeling of him inside you. It doesn't take more than a moment before you feel him start to enter you. You lay your head down, turning your face so you can watch Asra take you from behind.

His lips are parted in a silent moan as he relishes in the feeling of your walls around him. You sigh softly as he fully sheaths himself in you, a small tremor passing over your body from the pleasure. One moment, two moments pass as you both bask in the feeling of being connected.

"Give me your hands," he commands, slowly sliding in and out of you, giving no care to his agonizingly slow pace. Soft gasps are falling from your lips as you try to register his request.

Carefully, you cross your arms behind your back. It's no use to keep the blush at bay as you take in the dirty scene. Your face is pressed to the pillows, unable to move much as Asra takes your wrists and pins them to your back. Your ass is raised in the air to meet his rhythmic thrusting.

Asra grips one of your thighs with a free hand and quickens the pace a little. Your eyes shut tightly as your body responds. You can feel his tip hit deep inside of you with each snap of his hips. It's unrelenting and you have to catch yourself from begging for more.

You feel the fingers around your wrist tighten a bit as Asra's breathing speeds up behind you. You know that he's set on giving you as much painfully slow torture as he can manage himself, but you also know that potion is working against him. There's nothing he wants more than to let go and pound you into the mattress.

"Baby," you choke out, words bouncing along with your bodies. "I know you want to fuck me so good right now." Your voice is deep with seduction. "Please just fill me up like I know you want to." You finish your plea, watching his face with satisfaction. His eyes are darkened with desire. He takes just a few more strokes before slowly to a stop inside you.

"You asked for it," he warns. He only takes a moment to let go of your wrists and flips your body so you're facing him. He cages you in on either side and licks his lips as he stares into your eyes. His hungry mouth meets yours in a kiss full of fire. You can melt into it for only a second before you feel him grab your hips and pull you flush against him; Your cries drowned by his lips as he sets an erratic pace, skin meeting with loud slaps.

"Fucking hell," he groans, still kissing you between words. "You feel like heaven on earth. You're so hot, and I can feel your insides squeezing me." He explains, hot breath falling over your face. Your cheeks burn at his descriptions.

You loop your arms around his neck and press your chest into his. Your skin meets, shining with sweat and burning from love. Asra presses back, savoring the feeling of your nipples brushing against his.

You start to feel that familiar blossom of unreleased pleasure pool in your lower stomach. Asra's shaft is hitting you just right, sending jolts of satisfaction right to your core.

"Oh-" you stop and whine pleasantly when he shifts angles. "Fuck. Please yes, don't stop!" Your arms drop and nails dip into his biceps and you grit your teeth from the hot delight searing through your body.

"I couldn't even If i wanted to," Asra answers, words strained as his grasp on himself starts to crumble. His breath is leaving his lips in short pants now and you can almost see the resolve to hold on slip away before your eyes.

He falls into you, wrapping his arms tightly around your waist and thrusts into you with all of the strength he can muster. You bury your face in his neck and take hold of his hair. You can feel Asra's body shuddering to not let go.

You bring your lips to his ear and bite his lobe. "Won't you come for me sweetheart? Please empty yourself in me." You whisper.

Asra takes in a sharp breath and you hear him choke at your words. They were enough to push him over the edge and he rams into you with a low, strangled cry.

Your head falls back and your mouth opens in a silent scream as Asra lets himself go in you. Your legs shake violently of their own accord as you feel your orgasm wash over you, leaving your body in euphoric fire.

Asra's lips immediately find yours as you ride out your orgasms together. You kiss him passionately, all of your senses in overdrive. His kisses are soft, and sweet, a clear declaration of his love. Happiness rushes in like a flood as you enjoy the afterglow. After a minute Asra removes himself from you and joins you in laying down, sides still heaving from the activities.

"My dear, how I love you." He says with a smile, running his fingers in slow, soft circles on your stomach.

You turn on your side and look into his eyes. He looked content, and his cheeks were dimpled from his growing grin.

"I love you too," you return, hand falling into his. His skin was still warm. The two of you lay there for a while, out of breath and simply enjoying the presence of one another.

Eventually, Asra sits up and looks down at you with humor in his eyes. "Well, I think I can tell our buyer that we did an extensive review of his product and it does, in fact, work."

Your face breaks into a smile and you laugh at Asra's words. "Oh goodie, I'm sure he'll be thrilled to hear all about it."

[majestyeverlasting]

hey, I absolutely love your writing!!!❤️

Can you maybe write a Bucky x reader with the fluffy prompt 31?

(the reader is afraid of something and she lashes out on Bucky... like she rambles on, and on to Bucky so that she runs out of breath... and Bucky forces her into a hug, which she eventually relaxes into and then tells her the promt)

If you can't write this, I'll totally understand... enjoy your day🌼🌼

♡ Hi! Thank you, I'm happy to hear that you like my writing! I love this request, and hope I was able to capture the essence of what you wanted. I know you've been waiting, so thanks for being patient! To summarize, the reader's doubts lead her and Bucky to explore the idea of what it means to add value to the world. That of course leads to some intimate dialogue and soft moments. Towards the end, I played around with an idea that relates to Bucky having enhanced senses, and I think it worked out pretty well. But I suppose that's up for you guys to decide. 🌼

♡ Prompt 31: “Shh, I can hear your heartbeat.”

What Comes Naturally

There was an abundance of memories to hold onto as summer began to bid farewell. Each of them sweet, and owning a small fraction of your heart. The days, once long, were beginning to grow shorter, and nature itself was slowing to the new rhythm of the atmopshere. It beautiful time of transition.

But a rather peculiar round of thoughts had started to cultivate within your mind. They were dense and somewhat dark, awaiting the moment in which they could release their rain.

Their accumulation had been on the basis of value. The value you were adding to the world, specifically; was it enough? Could you be working more, creating more? Did strangers walk away remembering you? Did you better the lives of those around you? There were as many doubts as there were questions. And they all seemed to have come out of nowhere, plaguing you suddenly.

It was an unfortunate headspace to have fallen into. All things considered, you should’ve been happy. Happier than you were, at least, because it was the dawn of your favorite season. Yet you’d woken up and found yourself wondering if you were doing enough.

That afternoon rolled around quickly. You were curled up on the couch when Bucky returned home from his routine run. He lifted his hand in a wave, to which you responded with a quiet hi. The earbuds you had in played a song that served as a feeble distraction from your worries. You watched as he went to the refrigerator and pulled out a bottle of water, taking a few big gulps. He focussed on you as he drank.

Then he set the bottle on the kitchen island, and dabbed his mouth with the back of his hand. A furrow formed between his brows as sweat glistened above along his hairline. “You okay, doll?”

The question barely registered, but you read his lips. Before speaking, you paused the song. “Yeah, m’fine. Just relaxing”

You might as well have been glass with the way his gaze went through you. “Okay, well, I’m gonna go hop in the shower,” he said, running a hand through his hair. A brief moment of silence passed. “We’ll talk when I’m done, okay?” There was a knowing to his tone.

All you did was nod, gratefully.

A couple minutes after he left the kitchen, you ended up padding to the bedroom as well. Rather than bothering with another distraction, you simply laid on your back across the bed. You stared at the ceiling as the sound of running shower water emitted from the bathroom. And though it was faint, you could also hear the timbre of Bucky’s voice as he hummed a tune. You closed your eyes, finding solace in the fact that he was near, and willing to listen.

By the time he came out, you’d dozed off into a light sleep. As soon he gave your knee a few gentle squeezes, your eyes fluttered open. There was a small smile on his face as he looked down at you. Damp locks of his hair fell into his forehead, and a beige bath towel was wrapped around his waist. You sat up with a soft grunt, and he pressed a quick kiss to your forehead before moving to get dressed. You caught of whiff of his cedar body wash in the process.

“Love you,” you murmured, rubbing your eyes.

“Love you too, pretty girl,” he said. “Wanna start telling me ‘bout what’s going on in that mind of yours?”

For a few seconds, all you did was look down at your socked feet and kick them. You heard a couple of dresser drawers open as Bucky saught out the clothes he was going to wear. “I feel like there’s something more I could be doing,” you finally said, turning to look at him. He’d tossed his towel onto the bed put on a pair of blue boxers.

“Something more?” He repeated as he pulled a black shirt over his head. “What do you mean?” His eyes met yours with genuine curiosity, wanting to understand.

You sighed, picking at the bed comforter. “The world is so big and people are out there doing so many different things, and it feels like I’m not doing nearly as enough. Like there are ways for me to step up that I’m not acknowledging,” you explained. “Like I’m missing the mark.”

Bucky put on a pair of sweat shorts before walking to take a seat beside you on the edge of the bed. He looked intently into your eyes. “What mark do you think you’re missing?”

“That’s the thing, I don’t know,” you said, tone raising slightly. “There are people like you who go out and save the world, and do all of these crazy, larger than life things. People who have huge, innovative ideas that change entire industries. People who massive followings because they’re encouraging, or funny, and whatnot. And they all add so much to the world.”

Bucky thought about interjecting, but decided to let you continue. “It seems like I’m hardly doing anything. I at least try to leave a good impression on everyone I meet. And I try to extend the best of myself to the people I care about.” You turned your gaze from him, and directed it to the floor.

“But now there’s something’s telling me that I should be trying harder. And I don’t even know what that’s supposed to look like.” Bucky had began to run a comforting hand up and down your thigh. You released a harsh huff of air, not even realizing you’d been working yourself up. “I don’t even know where all of this is coming from. I just feel off, and...”

You fell silent when he wrapped his vibranium arm around your shoulders, and pulled you into him. Pressing a kiss to your temple, then your cheek, his stubble brushing against your skin. There was warmth radiating from his body, and he smelled good. So good. You let your head tilt to rest on his shoulder, and looked down to where your knee was brushing against his. Suddenly, it seemed as though everything you’d previously said was immature and incomprehensible.

“I’m sorry,” you started. “Maybe I’m just being—”

“Shh,” he coaxed. Then he said something that caught you off guard, and took your mind off of everything else, “I can hear your heartbeat.”

“Wait, what?” You breathed. “No you can’t.” When Bucky chuckled, light and airy, you lifted your head. “Can you really?” Your voice was soft with a disbelieving edge.

“Yes,” he said, letting his arm slip from around you. “Lay down for a second.” You did, and he fell onto his back as well.

There the two of you were, chests rising with your breaths, looking up at the ceiling.

You waited for him to explain himself or say something else, but he didn’t for a while. The air was quiet long enough that you figured it was only a matter of time before you began to hear your own heartbeat, or possibly even his. You didn’t, of course, and Bucky eventually broke the ambience that had established itself.

“I can hear it,” he confirmed, turning to look at you. “But just barely ‘cause it’s not as strong now.”

“Because I’ve calmed down?” He hummed in agreement. You studied his handsome features and began to smile. "I didn’t know could do that,” you told him. “I mean, I knew your hearing was good, but to be able to hear a heart beating is… cool.”

“Yeah. I just have to be close enough and focus extremely hard,” he explained. “And you wanna know what I have to say about adding value to the world?”

You’d almost forgotten about what you expressed to him in the moments prior. Almost. “What?”

He propped himself up on his metal arm, and placed his flesh one on your chest over your heart. He could feel the gentle thump against his palm. “This, right here, is all you need to know that you’re adding value; the fact that you’re alive,” he said, smiling when you placed your hands overtop of his. “Everyday you’re adding value in a way only you can. Even if it’s not always through some big and over the top demonstration.

“Just be and do what comes naturally. One day that might be saving a city, another day that may be making somebody laugh. Who’s to say they aren’t equally important in the end? They both effect how the future plays out, right?” He quirked his brows.

It was moments like that when you realized just how much of life he'd lived and how much wisdom he'd earned over the years. Even if you had've racked your brain, you wouldn't have found anything capable of standing up against his words. You took his hand and pressed a kiss to his palm.

“Right.”

-

Thank you so much for reading! Consider sticking around for more. <3

[keilemlucent]

take care of me

(r18+)

hawks | takami keigo x reader

ao3

word count: ~4.4k

beta’ed: @hawnks

keigo is perfectly happy to help you forget a stressful day

warnings: daddy kink (no age play), spanking, aftercare, praise kink, self indulgent smut, spit kink <333333, bdsm, masochist reader 

...

self indulgent..... caregiver dom keigo? we knew it was coming. enjoy loves <333

||||||||||||||||||||||

You ached all over.

The mental exhaustion of the day was far more grating than the physical, but the dull throb of your tired muscles was impossible to ignore, even when you were only half-conscious on the couch. 

You were put out. 

You’d been burrowed under a pile of blankets since you’d stumbled into the penthouse after work, curling up without even bothering to take off your shoes.

Night had fallen, the apartment cold, silent and still. Normally, you might’ve whipped up some dinner or showered, maybe done something productive.

But not that night.

You’d held yourself together through the day. Each angry word and sneer you faced was handled with a smile, despite how you were cracking inside. You even managed to keep an even expression when your scalding morning coffee was splattered over your shirt, almost burning you.

Well, you weren’t sure if it hadn’t. You hadn’t checked, considering you were still wearing the stained garment. Maybe, the skin of your stomach was as inflamed and puckered as it felt.

Maybe that was just your mood.

...

You hardly stirred when the balcony door of the apartment slid open and then shut, Keigo’s ruffling and booted footsteps echoing across over the apartment.

Your eyes stay half-lidded and hazy when Keigo rounds the couch, eyes softening as he notices your cocoon of blankets.

“Hey, dove,” Dropping to his knees neck to the couch, he cups the side of your cheek in a gloved hand, “Feeling a bit tired?”

You nodded, lips still sealed.

There was nothing in you to give, just the slow simmering of exhaustion and sadness that you couldn’t escape.

Keigo’s gaze softened, gold and far-too pretty in the dim light of the living room, “Bad day?”

“Y-yeah.”

Your voice cracked when you spoke, the words going grainy as your chest tightened.

As you sniffled, burying your face into the blankets as unwelcome tears stung at the corners of your eyes.

Very bad day.

He shed his jacket and gloves, tossing them to the side without a care. Keigo coaxed you to rise, only enough for him to slip into the blankets, laying underneath you to pull your head to his chest.

“I’ve gotcha’, dove,” He hummed, pressing kiss after kiss into your hair. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You didn’t respond, only bit your lip and buried your face into his chest.

Keigo had just arrived home after a long day, and the last thing you wanted was to be a chore to deal with consider how fucking trashed you felt. The idea of being a burden— 

His voice shocked you from your thoughts. 

“Do you want daddy to take care of it?” 

His words and all of their insinuations washed over you.

You knew Keigo had no issues taking that role— fuck, he confided in you many, many times that he loved being able to take care of you in any and all ways. 

Giving it a name, an identity, made him purr with pride. 

You swallowed, the idea curling your head. Catharsis by Keigo’s hand sounded fucking fantastic in the most gut-rotting way.

You nodded.

Keigo smiled against your hair, his own insides twisting. He’d had his own day of annoyance and had been more than ready and willing to come home to you and blow off some steam, but if this was what you needed, he was more than willing to provide and have a fantastic time doing it. 

Keigo hummed, smoothing his hands up your sides. “So what are you feeling?” He knew you wouldn’t be great at giving anything other than ‘yes’ or ‘no’ answers, but he could try and coax a bit more out of you. 

Options.

“I could start off slow, just how you like,” His voice curled over your ear with a nip as he slid his thumbs beneath your waistband. “Let you rut on my thigh like the cute little dove you are. If you’re good, maybe you could suck daddy’s cock while I lick your pussy clean.”

You buried your face in his neck, a high whine echoing from the back of your throat.

Keigo felt his cock twitch, wings stirring from their crunched position.

“Or, I could knot your wrist tight, give them those nice, pretty burns, tie you to the bottom of the couch and fuck you into the floor.”

You buried yourself deeper, all of the ideas in your head were alluring, but not quite right.

A kinder option was also a good idea. 

“Or, I could hold you nice and tight like this for a while. Maybe take a bath, use that new massage oil we ordered, rub you down until all of that tension is pulled out by my hands.”

The pads of Keigo’s fingers rolled into the knots in your shoulders, some of the stress dripping away with the preview of his words. 

It took the softness to realize what you really needed:

“I want it to hurt.”

Oh, and fuck, you wanted it to so bad.

You wanted to be fucked up and used so bad you could barely move. Fucked stupid, so all of the nasty thoughts of the day would melt away. 

Keigo practically rumbled beneath you, his wings flexing and puffing up against your back, just inches from your face.

He wanted it— no, needed it, just as bad as you. 

He took a few deep breaths beneath you, his hand wandering to settle with a bruising grip at the fat above your waist.

“Gimme your taps,” Keigo nuzzled against your cheek.

“One tap is that I’m good, two taps is slow down, three taps is stop, four taps is that I’m having trouble talking.”

It was an easy system, one you and Keigo had adapted to suit your needs and the often merciless ways he’d lay you to ruin. 

“Perfect, dove, god,” Keigo sang his words like sweet prayers. Slowly, he sat up, still holding you tight to his chest. “You go wash up quick in the bedroom, I’ll get myself all settled and ready. Wear whatever you’d like and shout if you need me, okay?”

You swallowed, gut turning.

“O-Okay, I love you.

“I love you too, so fucking much.”

...

You took a few minutes in the bathroom to ground yourself. You still felt like shit, but in the way that now craved something different and more carnal to get it to fall away and release.

You trusted Keigo with everything in you. He knew how to pick you apart just the way you needed. 

You wandered back into the living room, padding in quietly in a pair of fluffy socks, an oversized tee that hung just below your ass, and a pair of shorts that showed the barest bits of your cheeks.

Keigo was in the kitchen, the hilt of the knife clicking against the metal of the rings he wore as he chopped up a few of your favorite fruits and placed them into a wooden bowl.

He’d changed as well, looking sharper and much more like the ‘daddy Keigo’ that you knew. His black pants were sharp and perfectly fitted, along with the black mock neck he wore. He accessorized with a few rings on each hand and a chain necklace laying over his collarbones.

Keigo’s eyes flickered up to you as you regarded him, a little grin beginning to grow.

“Seems I overdressed.” His wings flared behind him, unable to hide his excitement the same way his face was. 

“I-I can change—” 

“Absolutely not,” Keigo slid around the kitchen island, tsking quietly. “You’re perfect, just like this.”

You didn’t reply, not until Keigo stopped in front of your and grabbed your jaw, pulling your gaze to him.

“Sweetness,” His affections rolled over your skull in the exact way you needed. “Do you want me to take care of you?”

“P-Please.”

The word was desperate, shaking and shuddering as it slipped from lips.

Keigo’s smile grows wider, his plumage ruffling.

“Sweet girl, try again.”

Your lip wobbled as he stroked down at your pulse point. 

“Please, d-daddy.”

What a role to have.

Keigo loved it, notably.

It had started early, that incessant itch to care for you in any way that he could was semi-insatiable until he started to indulge it to his heart's content. You thrived off it too, needing that personal attention that he was so willing to give. And hell, it wasn’t like you didn’t return it constantly with endless love and sweetness.

He just took care of you. 

The details, all the small things he’d gathered about since you’d gotten together (and before then too) were things he cherished. Little things about you he wasn’t even sure you noticed, he collected them and accommodated them in any way he could. 

There was the more mundane, like your favorite smells and tastes and touches. The knowledge of the best textures of clothes and blankets that he loved to gift you and your favorite spices and sweets were coveted. 

There was the more intimate, too.

He had taken breaking you apart with pleasure as a divine rite, that first time he got you on the silken sheets of his bed. Learning every twitch and shudder and what it meant felt like his life’s goal as he buried his face in your cunt.

You liked it all, notably. 

You thrived off the attention, though it took a while for you to accept that ‘yes, you do indeed deserve this, very much so.’ 

Once more, you returned it. Perhaps you weren’t quite as perceptive as Keigo was, you didn’t have the training (thank god), but you did constantly return love to him. Your own touch and kind words more comforting than anything he’d ever received in his fucking life.

He could only return the favor by taking care of you in any way that you needed.

And that night?

You needed to hurt. 

And Keigo, truthfully, was in the mood to get a bit of tied up anger out in the sweetest way possible. 

...

Keigo drifted to the couch, your hand in his with you in tow. You were so meek that day, eyes downcast.

He’d have to be careful, watch your body and expressions and not push you too far. He trusted you to call things off, but he still never hurt you beyond what you could handle.

Besides, Keigo had crafted a wonderful plan that he was fairly (very) certain you would enjoy.

Keigo sat down on the couch, thighs parted the slightest bit, a half-chub already pressing against his trouser.

“Lie down, dove,” He kept his voice so sweet as he tapped his thigh. “Let me help you.”

You scrunched your shirt in your hands, mind beginning to get pleasantly hazy with his words and you laid yourself over his lap. You adjusted with your arms cushioning your head, knees pressed against the cushion. 

“Talk to me, sweetness— What’s going on?” Keigo spoke as he nudged your hips upwards, your back bowing and arching under his touch.

 “Just a bad day,” You swallowed, burying your face into the cushions. “I don’t want to think about it.”

Your head was already swimming, you didn’t want to mentally relive how awful the day had been— 

“Then let’s make it good, hm?” Keigo mused, cupping your ass through your shorts and squeezing. “Make you forget in your favorite way. I know how much you like this.”

You tried to speak, but your jaw snapped shut with a click and a cry as Keigo’s palm smacked over the fat of your ass.

“You just need a little bit of extra help today, hm?” Keigo smoothed his hand over where he had struck. The motion was tender in the same way his words were, washing over you enough to almost distract from the pain that was just beginning. 

“Uh-huh,” You replied, weak and muffled into the fabric beneath you.

Another strike sent you pressing into the cushions, whining against upholstery as Keigo rubbed over your skin was against, his other hand going to stabilize your back, tracing his name and little hearts over your spine. 

“‘Uh-huh’, who?” 

“Daddy!” You screamed with the next strike. Your words melded with the echo of the sounds of your flesh.

Keigo was beaming at you, you could feel it. His wings were puffed up, rippling in time with heavy breathing.

“Good girl, god, dove, perfect,” He leaned down to press a kiss to the back of your head while smoothing a hand beneath your shorts. “You’re just so good. You deserve so much good, you know that?”

You nodded as Keigo shucked your shorts to the ground, pushing up your shirt to leave most of you bare to him.

It felt vulnerable, despite having been in this position before. 

“I d-do,” You stuttered, words sticky. “I am good.”

It felt real, for a moment, brightened by the sharp pain that was growing constant from your cheeks.

“God, perfect,” Keigo waxed, grabbing a handful of your ass and squeezing. “Here’s what you’re gonna do sweetness— here’s how I’m gonna take care of you today.”

His hand slid between your clenched thighs, pushing them apart and barely teasing your slit, “You’re gonna hurt for me, so fucking good. I’m gonna give you... twenty-five, how does that sound?”

You nodded, an answer Keigo accepted.

“Good,” You could hear his grin. “You’re gonna take each one so well, I know you will, dove.”

The expectation hurt so bad you winced. 

Keigo hushed you with a hand to the back of your neck, “It’s alright, I’ll be right here. Just want to break you a little bit, hm?”

You whined this time, shifting your thighs together as Keigo chuckled. 

“Maybe a lot, but we’ll see. I don’t want you thinking after this.”

Holy fuck, neither did you. You’d be content to be close to braindead when Keigo was through with you. 

Any reply you had was just a warbled moan into the cushion below as Keigo slapped his hand down once more.

“Count, sweetness.”

“O-one.”

Another smack, to the other cheek, flesh growing hot. 

“T-two— “

And Keigo didn’t fucking relent.

Each smack was hard, the fat of your ass jiggling and burning against the flat of his palm. The knick of his rings against the soft flesh only added to burn and sting. 

Perhaps, in other conditions, Keigo would have built up to the level of pain he was providing. Preamble a bit with some softer touches and sweet words as opposed to relentlessly spanking your ass so hard you swore you could already feel welts forming from the rings he wore.

“T-t— Ten!” 

Your voice cracked in your throat, each impact bringing up sprinklings of tears that were rubbed into the couch. 

All the harshness of his strikes was in harmony with the sinfully soft way he was touching you otherwise.

A gentle hand running through your hair, mindful of any knots or tangles. His fingertips stroked up and down your neck, nails teasing the thin skin just below your ear. Even the way he rubbed at your flesh between strikes was so fucking tender, despite how his touch made the hot skin boil even more.

Your first muffled sob was what got him going verbally.

“Oh, wow,” Keigo whistled to himself, a sharp-nailed finger running up your spine. “Are you crying already, sweetness? Does this hurt too bad?”

“N-no,” You forced the words out, even as they clung to the back of your tongue. 

The confusing feelings and emotions thrumming through you made you want to just let go. The tears mixed with the loving fullness in your chest, all counterpointed by hot pain that was ripping through your nerves from the bruises and singed skin from your ongoing spanking. 

Not to mention the slick coating your thighs— 

“Seems not,” Keigo clicked his tongue, pausing to run a finger over your slit. “Still dripping for me, even when I’m touching you like this?”

He spanked you again, right over a pre-existing welt.

You sputtered in the cushions, almost sobbing but still trying to hold onto a semblance of your composure.

Keigo could see it in the rigidity of your shoulders. No matter how he pressed into the muscles in time with the strikes he dealt, you just wouldn’t loosen up.

You shook against the cushions below, exertion from holding your arched back clear.

Keigo hummed to himself.

You said you wanted it to hurt, right?

And God, if he wasn’t going to deliver. 

In a flurry of motion, Keigo shifted, bringing you with him.

Your cheek remained against the leather of the couch, blood rushing to your head as your ass was thrown up and over the armrest. 

Keigo stood up, wings unrestrained and extended. You couldn’t see the angry, red plumage, only the shadow it threw over you.

“Oh, dove,” Keigo waxed. “You just need a bit more, right?”

Another strike.

“F-f— Fifteen— “

“You’ve had such a rough day, haven’t you?” 

His words stir something vile in your soupy brain, a whimper leaking through your parted lips.

(Maybe, you were more fucked out than you thought.)

He hushed you with a yank on your hair, forcing your back and neck to bow.

“My dove just needs to know how loved they are, hm?”

You nodded, his grip tightening but you could hardly care. Each spark of pain felt so fucking good, your lingering barriers broke down more and more with each one of Keigo’s touches.

Whether they were that syrupy comforting kind or burning, bruising kind, you couldn’t care or tell. The blend of it all was flooding through you so well, all you could do was blubber out numbers between bursts of tears and ‘more’s and ‘please’es.

“T-we— n— ty!” The syllables felt choppy, maybe, but you hardly cared.

“Good girl, fuck,” Keigo gritted out, palming the front of his trouser. He’d been graciously (read: cruelly) ignoring your dripping cunt as well as his own ache throughout your spanking session.

He’d make sure the two of you were satisfied by the time it was all over.

You did have five strikes left.

 “Taps for me, love,” Keigo’s rubbed at your back, hips bumping into your broiled ass. 

You gave the leather below a single hard tap.

All good.

“Perfect.”

 And with very little reverie, a few of Keigo’s feathers shot from his wings, wrapping around your wrists and ankles, pinning you to the leather.

And with even less reverie, Keigo’s spread your asscheeks wide and spat onto your cunt.

“K-Keigo!”

His name ripped from your throat, mixing with a shriek as the cold spit went clammy against your burning flesh.

“Try again, sweetness.” 

The next strike was hard, and Keigo’s hold didn’t shift from your cheeks. 

He’d hardened two fucking feathers.

Larger ones, broader enough to strike down at the top of the curve of your ass with a swift flick.

They were so much harder than his hands. 

So.

Much.

Harder.

Harsher.

Crueler. 

“D-daddy!”

You corrected yourself instantly, clawing into the cushions. Your chest burned as your sobs turned to weepings, your cheeks singeing with each harsh breath.

“Tw— e— nty one!

You barely managed to get the words out before Keigo buried his face in your cunt.

And fuck, did he eat you like the prized meal you were. His words be damned, he had plenty of ways to break you down beyond his verbal praise. 

He lapped at the tacky slick on your thighs, licking up to tease at your pussy with the tip of his tongue. The stubble along his chin roughed up your most precious bits, but you didn’t mind.

If anything, you wanted it to hurt more. 

For that reason, his feathers could finish the job. They surely had a harder hit than his hands had.

Based on the way you were quaking against him, stammering and blabbering little pleads and adorations, they were doing their job.

Broken little thing, weren’t you?

But that was the point, of course. 

“Four more, dove,” Keigo murmured against your folds. “Say thank you with each one, dove. Keep being good for me.”

The command was all you needed, hurriedly nodding into the tear-soaked fabric below.

The feathers struck down again, skin breaking.

“T— wen-ty two!” 

Keigo chuckled against your cunt, pulling away only to tease slide his fingers over your clit, “Feeling good?”

“T-Thank you!”

Oh, you were fucking braindead. 

Keigo was all too pleased, a few smaller feathers going to prop up your hips as they trembled.

“Good,” His words were muffled by your sex, but neither of you had the mind to care about words. It was all in the soup of sounds that kept you rutting back into his tongue. “Keep going.”

The next strike was so loud, it eclipsed the sound of your own shriek.

“TW— wenty three! Thank you!”

Keigo could feel you wheeze, but no taps came.

No reason not to continue.

His own pants felt tight as he rolled his hips into the side of the couch, eyes rolling back into his head as your cunt gushed around him.

Your entire body was thrumming, pulsing from the inside out with what had to be pain, but you could hardly tell. You were spinning somewhere harsh and fast and you didn’t dare try to rationalize it.

All you could ground yourself on was the slap of Keigo’s feathers and the feel of him eating you in earnest.

It was enough, barely.

The next slap just added to your feelings. 

 “TWE— EN— ty f-four! T-thank you!”

Keigo pulled away, wiping your arousal from around his lips and scooting around the couch to get a better look at your face.

As absolutely hot as he was, and how desperately he wanted to eat you up until he burst, he also knew he was pushing you fairly hard.

“Sweetness, ready to take your last one?” 

Keigo ran his fingers through your hair as your eyes focused on him in their half-lidded position. 

“I-I can’t do it, daddy.”

He paused.

You’d have given taps if you wanted to stop, truly. He trusted you on that.

“Yes, you can,” Keigo cooed, thumbing a bit of drool over your cheek. “I know you can.”

“I-I can’t,” You sobbed out, burying your face into the couch. Despite your words, you stayed tense and rigid.

All you needed was a little push.

Keigo took to leaving gentle touches across your back, rubbing out your tension wherever he found it knotted. Your weeping didn’t fully subside, but it certainly quieted as you took gulps of breath was some gentle coaching.

“Can you take one more for me? For your daddy?” Keigo glowed with pride as he spoke, seeing the way your eyes lit up and your head bobbed against the cushions.

“Uh-huh,” You leaned into his touch where you could. “One m-more, f-for you.”

You gave a single tap into the cushions.

 Keigo couldn’t help but be proud of you as you readjusted, arch going harsher and deeper.

He’d finished your spanking off with his hand, you earned it after taking so much so well.

The large feathers returned to him, while a single small one drifted between your sticky thighs to part your folds.

Slowly, the plume circled around your clit, lapping at the nub as his tongue would, your juices soaking it all the same. 

Even as Keigo laid the most gentle touch on your ass, the throb and burn of it made your whimper and whine. 

One more.

Just one more strike and all of that mundane stress and anger would be broken off from you and dissolved in a puddle of your own tears.

“When I give you your last one, you’re going to cum all over that feather for me, dove, understand?”

You nodded, hurriedly, barely grinding against the stimulation. 

Keigo wound up, wings extended and full, before putting all of his weight into his swing.

His palm hit your rear with such a crack that it broke both of you.

You screamed, shrieked, as your thighs clenched and gave out beneath you. Any cries you’d be managing to hold back ripped from your throat with the last smack as your cunt clenched and pleasure exploded in your gut. 

Barely, you managed to speak through your tears.

“Twenty-f-five.. .. thank you....” 

Keigo had to take a moment himself, breathing hard and particularly weak-kneed. 

The sweet cry that had torn from your mouth was all he needed to be pushed over the edge, his cock twitching and spurting while hardly even being touched.

He was impressed, with both himself and you.

“God, dove, you did so well for me,” Keigo wiped the salt from his brow, ignoring his creamed pants to slip onto the couch and pull you into his arms.

You were half-lucid, sticky with sweat and arousal but you couldn’t find yourself to care. All you could fixate on was the feel of Keigo’s heat and the ruffle of his feathers as you settled into his lap.

Keigo pressed kisses against your temples and cheeks, positioning your thighs around his own and allowing you to sag into his chest. 

You clung to him with everything you had as you spun down from your high.

He whispered little affections to you, small praises and love for doing so ‘well for him’ and ‘how good you took it, took it all’. 

A few of his feathers came and went carrying a bowl of fruit, chilled and cut up into bite-sized pieces.

From your haze, Keigo pressed a piece of sweetness to your lips.

“Eat, love, take it,” He purred as you opened your mouth just enough for the fruit to slip in. You chewed slowly, focusing on the flavor and texture before swallowing.

The spare drool that slipped from the corner of your mouth was quickly scooped up by Keigo’s thumb, gathered and popped into his own mouth.

His feathers rippled.

“I feel a lot better,” You slurred into the crook of his neck. “Thank you.”

Keigo chuckled, something high and light that made your guts turn anew. His hand brushed over the meat of your ass, bruised and covered in welts, “You’re welcome, but...”

His touch hurt, but in the best way.

A pleasant reminder.

“How does this feel?” 

“Painful, but good,” You hummed, opening your mouth for another piece of fruit. The tartness of the bite brought you closer to lucidity. “You’re too good to me, you know.”

“Flattery, when you’re this fucked out? I’m impressed,” Keigo pulled you closer by the small of your back. “Rest for a little bit, then I’ll clean us up, sound good?”

“Very,” You circled your arms around him, locking your hands just below his wings. “But... ‘us’?”

“I might’ve nutted. Maybe.”

You snorted, but you were quickly quieted by another piece of sweetness and plenty of distracting affection.

Desperately needed, by both you. 

....

thank you for reading!!! check out my links (ko-fi, ao3, and twitter!!)  

[binniesthighs]

he lives in my lap | reader x changbin

➛ Pairing: self insert, gender neutral reader x seo changbin 

➛ Recommended listening: she lives in my lap, outkast

➛ Genre: pwp (smut), fluffy tones, 18+ 

➛ Word count: 3.9k 

✨ Summary/Request Here ✨

Anon: sub!changbin nipple play drabble👁👁

i’m such a sucker for sub bin smh

a/n: thank you for requesting sweet anon! any day, any time i will write sub!changbin! this was such a pleasure to write n’ i hope that ya like it! <3

{see below for nsfw tags!} 

NSFW: dom!reader, sub!changbin, tsundere!bin, slightlybratty!bin, established relationship, use of petnames, body worship (calm tf down ro, we know you love binnies’ bod), *plz pretend to be surprised here too* thigh kink, power dynamics, LOADS of nipple play (m receiving), praising & mild degradation, handjob, lil pet of petplay (bunny), v soft aftercare 

♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥♡♥

you caught him sulking, bundled up in his chair with his legs crossed and his eyes dried. its the times like this when you don’t need him to tell you what’s going through his mind. he huffs and spins around just to get a moment to break his stare at the screen. he rubs at his temples where his headache surges, but he’ll never stop to ask for help or to express how tired he really is. 

“what are you working on?” you simply ask as you cross the way behind him and squeeze his shoulders. 

he sighs, and answers, “work.” 

it’s barely an answer, but knowing him, prodding wouldn’t do much else. 

“its getting late,” you pause, contemplating to next part of your phrase, “could you come to bed? i’d....love to have you with me...if you can.” 

his fingers stop their typing, and he pulls off a single padded headphone to listen to you. 

“you know that i’ve got a deadline. can’t.” 

“wouldn’t you like to--” 

“--can’t you just live one night without it?” he barks, swiveling in his seat to face you. 

his eyes, the whites of them pink and his under-eyes bagged, tell you that you can’t take exactly what he means to heart, but still, it doesn’t hurt much less. 

“bin--i just want you to take care of yourself and not overwork. you know that you need your rest to make everything work out right. right?” 

your boyfriend sighs and composes himself, then puts his headphones back on. 

“deadlines are deadlines.” changbin simply replies. “in a couple days it’ll be over.” 

the sound of his clicking at his mouse fills the room back up, and this close you can hear the faint buzz of his music on the other side of his headphones. its as if he wants to create some kind of shell between you and him; he pulls his hood up and balls himself up in his big black hoodie. 

with him, your patience overcomes anything. 

“bin--” you reach for his arm to rub in calming little circles with your thumb, “you’re worrying me.” 

the exhaustion in his voice causes it to crack, “i’m fine.” 

it doesn’t take him much to go up in arms when you pull off his headphones to hold his puffy face in your hands. earnestly you hold his eyes with yours. 

“you’ve worked so much already today. please, come to bed, i know you won’t admit it to yourself, but it’ll be okay if you sleep for just a little while....or, relax at least...” 

changbin huffs out again in his same little annoyed nature. you knew the ins and outs of him well: your words might have gone in one ear and left out the other, but they still would jumble him up on their way out.

“i said that i’m fine,” your boyfriend repeats, “you’re worrying over nothing.” 

it isn’t easy to admit defeat in the moment, but that’s all it is: a moment. he allows you the pause to plant a tiny kiss on his forehead before focusing back on his work. the truth is, you really did want him to join. the bed was always warmer with two anyway. these days, it was even a little hard to fall asleep with him. 

“well,” you throw your hands on your hips, “i’ll just be back here...if you need anything. i can warm up your side for you, kay?” 

for a moment, his fingers stop their clicking, wavering. “okay.” 

he likes it when you wear his shirts and other little things like that. he even thinks that its cute when you steal his socks and they bunch up a little. after living together your clothes have started to all smell the same, but knowing that it’s his has always been enough for you. 

at first, you promise yourself that you’ll stay up as long as he does, but not even you can stay up that late. he turns the lights off for you, leaving only his desk lamp and the blue screen of his desktop. silently you promise him that you’ll stay up as long as you can manage...

“--oh. sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you up...” 

your blurry eyesight makes out the time that’s ticked past two hours since you last remember checking. 

“its okay,” your sleepy self returns. you’ve fallen asleep on his side of the bed which you promised to warm up, but he won’t ask you to give it up when you’re half awake. 

“i’ve decided to sleep in late tomorrow.” he hums while reaching for his phone light to turn it off. “you’re right.” 

“i know that i’m right.” 

even in the dark you can feel his little joking smirk. the mattress makes springy sounds under the weight of your two bodies, and somehow your hands find their way into the kangaroo pocket of his hoodie. there’s nothing like feeling his presence beside you--its a kind of irreplaceable reassurance that you’ve only ever felt in him. 

he’s close enough to feel his tiny breaths in the space between you, and how it tickles your upper lip. sleepy kisses float from your lips to his which he happy returns by pressing into you closer and melding your body with his. you make a point to kiss him slowly and with every ounce of intent that you are able to pour from yourself to him. 

your love unties himself for you just as he does whenever he feels your thumb trace under his jaw slowly or as you hold his face in your hands, tilting him to deepen your exploration of his mouth. you can feel him get looser and looser after being so tightly bound. your hands work at his knots with swift fingers that interweave with his hair, then find their way to traipse up the hem of his clothes. 

he mutters a little sound that could be translated into many pleasurable things, but you don’t need to think too hard to interpret it. 

“binnie...” you coo, gently rolling him to his back to lean over him with your upper body, “you’re doing so well. i can tell how hard that you’re working...there’s no need to hide.” 

he nods, allowing you to paint his cheeks with more little kisses that fall down to his neck, then travel back up to his ear where you nibble softly. in your own mind, its your favorite place to show him your love: he shivers feeling your breath quiver in his ear, then exhales out after feeling the small pull at his skin. 

higher under his shirt your hands tip-toe, then trance the curves of his sides and finally reach the spot where he is most sensitive...your boyfriend gifts you the gorgeous sound of his uncontrollable little whimpers once he feels the pads of your fingers graze over one of his hardened nipples. 

“oh?” you taunt, “already so sensitive?” 

changbin attempts a scoff that comes out airy on his lips, “i mean, yeah...when you do that.” 

your index circles his bud, causing and even more delightful symphony of shaking breaths to exit. 

“...but its so late...” you remind him. its halfway between a genuine reminder and somewhat of a challenge. there’s nothing more that you would want, but the clock tells you otherwise. 

your room is nearly devoid of light save for the way that the crescent moon peeks through the slits of the shades. the silver light illuminates his face in stripes, one of them directly over his eyes which makes them sparkle with the same iridescent shine of stars. 

“do you think that i care?” changbin shies a bit into the puffy pillow that cradles his head. 

from your position above him you can see the way that he pleads wordlessly, and how he just knows that he’s irresistible to you. his gaze softens to shift in that cute little pout. he too knows how to untie you, how to make you fall into him so deeply that you can’t see anything but him. he knows exactly what to say, how to wet his his cushy lip so it glistens just a little when he parts his mouth for you to crave even more than you already do. 

“do you want me to say please?” he adds. 

fuck, he really does know you well. 

your knuckles rub along the fuzzy underside of his sweater, scribbling more circles around his nipples that hardens them painfully even though you’re barely touching him. 

“that is my favorite word,” 

his tone is airy, barely audible when he asks as politely as he can, “please, can you use me how you want?” 

you tut, bowing low over his lips to only let them hover over his own. your lie of a kiss just barely makes contact with him. he whines from the promise of your taste, even wiggling his hips in his agony knowing that he won’t get what he wants quickly. 

“hm, i didn’t really hear you that time...” slowly your hands begin to pull the fabric of is shirt over his head. “say it again for me?” 

“please...?” your boyfriend desperately repeats. 

“and you’ll be a good boy for me? you’ll do what i say?” 

“yes...yes. everything that you say.” 

his hoodie ruffles up his cute dark locks that sprawl all over his face and even cover his eyes. for a moment you think of how his hair had gotten longer than you had noticed. you sweep it aside, holding his eyes while your hand swipes up and down his chest just between his pectorals. 

“and you’ll tell me when you want me to stop?” 

finally you grant him the kiss he’s been waiting for which he drinks up greedily, moaning carefully over your lips. 

“mmhm.” 

you nearly startle him after forgetting to move slowly, finding your own eagerness taking hold of you. changbin’s eyes gleam seeing you on top of him and both of your legs straddling his sides. you slither farther down his body to align yourself correctly, then pause finding your place. 

after, he then startles you by letting out a sudden cry in response to his beloved sensation. both of your hands are busied pinching and tweaking directly at his pink nipples that turn redder from your touch. you toy with the hardened buds while his eyelids flutter--he can’t figure out if he wants to close his eyes to feel it all, or watch you. he decides upon the latter and tries his best focus on your hands spread on his chest. 

its a wondrous indulgence of yours as you watch the way that his muscles fill up your hands and even how his skin pops between your fingers when you squeeze. “my bun,” you sigh in admiration, “i just can’t handle you...” 

your head spins when he echoes, “neither can i...”

it seems fair for you to take off your top too, so you do. your hands survey farther up his chest, then course down his arms which you tuck to rest on each side of his head. 

“you know how it goes.”

he doesn’t even need the reminder. 

“fuck, you’re gonna take all the time you want now, aren’t you?” 

your boyfriend regains a bit of his composure to snark with that little unfair smirk of his. 

“would you rather me not do this for you at all...bun?” 

he rolls his eyes, impatient and annoyed for barely a second. he’s quieted the moment that he feels your lips float over his skin. you can feel the way that his breaths are thrown out from his lungs once you press even harder. his hips squirm and he turns into a puddle of half-choked winces that turn high pitched and needy the closer that you get to the sensitive areas of his chest. your tongue twists around it, only teasing at first and never allowing him to feel the full heat of your mouth. your left hand swipes up his side and settles right over his other bud which you toy with between your index and middle finger. you pull, then delight in the way that you can even feel his moans start deep from his core then come ripping out carelessly. 

at last you grant him the wet of your mouth when you tense your lips to pull too. you know that he likes it when you use your teeth too, but you never start with the most exciting part. 

his arms twitch like they usually do where they lay on both sides of his head. your boyfriend interlocks his fingers behind his head to pull and hold them there until his knuckles turn white. he would touch you, but you don’t like getting that distracted. you don’t need it anyway to heighten the way that unraveling him already pools heat between your legs and sends you grinding over his midsection. 

you use a combination of gentle kisses contrasted with the pull of your fingers and eventually the bite of your teeth to get him properly gasping out as if he cannot breathe. your name finds its way twisted into some of his moans too; it sounds so perfect, so right said that way: airy, wavering, shaking after he bites it into his lip too. 

you stop to admire him, now using your thumbs to tease at the way his reddened nipples now look painfully aroused and even glimmer with the sheen of your saliva upon them. changbin is flushed out all across his cheeks and even over his nose bridge. the rouge spreads down to his neck where the veins there quiver with each of his senseless gasps for air. he jerks from the careful feeling of the pad of your thumb compared to how viciously you had tugged at him before. you grind down your hips into his hard-on between your legs and into your own heat which craves him just as much. 

“good?” 

he nods, and chuckles out after reveling under your view. 

you free his hands from their place behind his head, then you immediately find yourself wrapped up so tightly in his arms that you let out a tiny squeak. his thick arms that stretch with the strings of muscles always remind you that the power you have over him, he holds over you just the same. he brings your lips back to his to kiss thanks into your mouth that’s become raw from your musings. 

“i’m not done yet.” you sneer directly into him. 

“i had a feeling.” 

your love knows how to sit and look pretty for you. how to keep his hands to himself and wait just enough for you to make a proper mess of him. even though you don’t see it, he’s infatuated watching you twist over him to the bed table and pick up the cup of water that holds partially melted ice. the sound of the cubes chime against the glass and burns your hand with the cold once you choose the largest of the lot. 

changbin looks at you fearful at first still consumed by your heat which lingers all over his body. you test out the sensation by spreading out your opposite hand first which is wet from the condensation from the glass. 

“ah!” he winces out. 

“too cold?” 

“n-no...” somethings shift in the way that he holds your gaze and the ice quickly melting in your hand. “i-i want it...” 

“you sure?” 

“please don’t make me wait again...” 

the cold from the cube starts to make your fingertips turn numb, but its of no conscious to you when he holds every bit of your attention while you wait for his visceral response. 

he yelps, nearly almost screaming from the mixture of cold and hot that swirls around his body. he grinds his teeth into a groan next to steady himself feeling the tenderness of his nipples next to the freezing cold. you can’t help but stifle a greedy laugh at how downright confused he seems at the two sensations of arousal and biting pain that made him feel even more lightheaded. 

you love the sight of the whites of his eyes when he reaches a kind of euphoria that only you can give him. 

“oooooh god.” he laughs along with you at how preposterously unreal it feels. the little smile that anchors on his mouth is unbelievably cute, and you can’t help but want to feel it on your own. 

you trace circles around and around his buds until they harden just as they had done under your tongue. he shivers too; either from the cold, or from the overload of his senses--it travels from the tip of his head, through his hips and down to his toes. 

“aw, my bun likes this...doesn’t he?” 

“mmm.” 

the ice only lasts a few moments on his chest and between your fingers. after, his chest is left shimmering from the new substance that looks like liquid crystal all over him and where it drips down to the comforter in droplets. 

you shift your attention lower down his stomach where you stop right above his bellybutton to let both of your hands hook under his sweats. you look up for approval, which he eagerly gives with the hastily phrase repeated, “do it, do it.” 

his clothes it the floor in a puddle, and your boyfriend is left bare for you to take in. you indulge in every single part of him that you’ve explored time and time again, but each time it feels renewed. your hands eat up his thighs with covetous squeezes until the crescent-moon shape of your nails decorates him nearly everywhere. they slide up higher, finding the place where his curved and rosy cock bobs waiting for your touch. 

“poor bunny....does it ache when i don’t touch your cute little cock?” you trace a finger up his shaft which causes his body to violently jerk in response. the truth of the matter is, he’s anything but little. 

even when your words turn venomous back on him, he still drinks it up as if it is nectar. 

a wicked chuckle passes by your lips remembering what he had said to you a couple hours before. “can’t you just live one night without it?” 

“n-no--” he stammers, “i-i’m sorry that i said--” 

you silence him with a finger to his lips. “sit up.” 

he does so, trying to gauge what you’re planning to do next. the mystery of it all enthralls him to the point of working his cock up with pearly pre-cum that drips down his length. changbin waits as you reposition yourself behind him, just so he sits flush against your torso and between your legs. 

at first, you trial you hands up and down his thighs to create a show for him. your fingertips tickle him gently where his leg hair grows thin and soft. you then move to massage into his inner thighs and the more intimate erogenous areas there that you claw at. 

“hm. maybe i’ll let you get what you want if you say--” 

your boyfriend’s hands bury themselves into the sheets to grab at anything to provide balance. “--please! please...i’ll say it however many times it takes...” 

you tsk, then nibble into the peachy cartilage of his earlobe. “mm, that’s enough. i’m feeling generous...” 

you wet a stripe of your saliva up your palm and guide it to his length where you give him one good squeeze that is more than enough to send his toes curling. he whimpers out feeling the lack of contact afterward, realizing that one squeeze was all that you were planning. instead, shift your motions toward his tip and his seeping slit. the tip of your index draws rings around it which elicits agonizingly gruff growls from his throat that you’ve only ever heard a couple times before. 

“please, please, please....” he chants. 

you do love the way it sounds. 

his moans become even louder once he feels the tension from your grasp where it returns to his shaft and pumps. in a way, the whole image is just perfect for the both of you: as you peer over his shoulder you can’t even but help feel turned on by the sight of your own hand and how it twists around the throbbing veins that imprint his cock. with your non-dominant hand you continue traversing the squishy and fleshy bits of his thigh. 

your boyfriend laughs out his growing self-indulgence while you work your hand up and down, then experiment with testing him with the ways that you can squeeze harder then softer. changbin throws his head back into your shoulder lazily once he starts to feel his senses slow and intensify the closer that he gets to his release. he shudders against you too, and tightens his body too as he edges himself even closer.

after the distraction that you’ve crafted tugging him up and down and how the twist of your wrist feels like heaven, he jumps still feeling your free hand find its way back up his chest one last time roll his nipple between your fingers. the combination of the two sends him spilling right over the edge and overflowing with a rambling of curses and half-attempted moans coupled with the release of his seed cascading down the back of your hand. 

nearly all of your boyfriend’s weight falls upon you and you giggle trying to deal with your previously cold and stubborn lover reduced to nearly nothing but a limp and euphoric mess in your arms. 

“you okay?” you ask him, peppering tiny kisses into his neck. 

“give me...a minute.” he laughs out too. “i’m just...really...exhausted. but--in a really, really good way.” 

“time to get some rest then?” 

changbin nods, and gives you back as many kisses he can with his neck titled at this somewhat awkward angle. 

“stay right here, hm?” 

you cradle him back to slide out from behind him and work at cleaning yourself off, and them him--he loves obliging if it means that he gets to be pampered with clean clothes and your little massage to his shoulders to get his tensed body relax even more. the blankets get exchanged for new ones and you find him telling you not to put your shirt back on. 

changbin flushes, explaining, “i just like being close like this with you. everyday. any day. i can’t live without it either.” 

you can’t exactly tell who is “holding” who, but it all just feels so peaceful and intimate you almost forgot that you were supposed to be sleeping until the day breaks behind your boyfriend’s shoulder. 

“thank you,” changbin sighs, “thank you for taking care of me.” 

“now start taking care of yourself.” you tease, “don’t overwork yourself, got it?” 

your boyfriend sleepily hums, and tows you right back into his chest. “don’t worry, i have a feeling that i’ll be sleeping in pretty late.” 

~🌹~ 

Bunch of (Ro)ses! 

@minaamhh @dazzlehoseok @synnocence @jjewibeans @hyunsluvv @unexceptional-h @bobawithchaitea @lechanters @sailorhyunjinz @silencefavarchive @lunarskzzz  @yourdaddychan @bubblelixie @spnobsessedmemes @cherrychngkyn @iwanttobangchan @bowlofblueberries @lmhmins @eunaeiekim 

[nothoughtsonlynat]

Resurrect Me (N.R.)

Warnings: swearing; death; Hell/the Underworld; cliff jumping lol

Word Count≈ 3.1k (yikes lol my bad)

Hecate一 the goddess of magic, witchcraft, the night, the moon, ghosts, and necromancy. Known to be an intricate mosaic of good and evil, destruction and beauty. Capable of granting wishes, summoning the dead, resurrections, teleportation, warping realities on unfathomable scales, mind control, energy manipulation, and any sorcery or magic known to the Gods. Second only to Zeus himself.

I am the human embodiment of Hecate. I am not Hecate; she merely resides in the depths of my soul and provides me guidance. We do not communicate through words; she speaks through dreams and gut feelings, and sometimes even through signs in the outside world. I have not mastered the powers she’s granted me, nor have I reached my full potential. In addition to the Goddess’ powers, I hold the basic Olympian powers, such as superhuman speed and stamina. I have no recollection of how I merged with Hecate or the life I lived before this point, and she has provided me with no answers, but I do not question her motives. 

Agent Phil Coulson came across me in my temple in Turkey. Apparently, he had discovered strange energy readings coming from the temple. When he arrived, I used the power of energy manipulation to blow the concrete off of me, and that is the first thing I remember一 emerging from underneath Hecate’s temple.

I joined the Avengers during the Battle of New York. Agent Coulson had recommended me to Fury when he was piecing together the Avengers Initiative. In the three years between my awakening and the invasion, I practiced my sorcery mercilessly and studied Hecate deep in the Greek countryside. I’ve stuck with the Avengers throughout the years, fighting every battle alongside them. Through the ups and downs, I’ve fallen head over heels for Natasha Romanoff. One would assume that with so much power, I’d be confident and have any mortal begging at my feet. That couldn’t be any more inaccurate, however. As I’ve said, I am not Hecate; I am simply the human embodiment of the goddess. And as a human, I turn into a blushing, stuttering mess whenever the levelheaded assassin is near. Consequently, there have been many years of pining, but I’ve yet to muster up the courage to ask the woman on a date.

In our most recent war, we’ve gone up against a mad titan一 Thanos. We lost terribly. Half of all living things inhabiting the universe were snapped away. I can’t help but ponder whether things would’ve gone differently if I had better mastered my powers. I potentially hold all the capabilities of the goddess of magic; aside from Zeus, I hold more power than any being to ever exist. I’ve practiced my sorcery every day for the past five years on the off chance that we ever get a rematch一 a chance to bring everyone back. I’ve improved significantly, but Hecate has been oddly quiet for the past few years. It’s driving me crazy. I know she’s still there, but she hardly provides an ounce of guidance.

And so, that is where I find myself now一 practicing sorcery in the room specifically designed to isolate me when I use dark magic. Everyone who has access to the training section of the compound knows that they should never enter this room. It is far too dangerous for regular mortals. As I warp the room’s reality, a dark mist envelops me. When it clears, the room has changed into a 50s ballroom. I look down to see an elegant maroon ball gown covering my body, and I scan the empty area. I hear a pair of heels clicking toward me, and I spin around, already panicking. In order for someone to be here with me, they would have to be an inhabitant of the location’s true reality. My eyes land upon the woman I’ve grown to love, dressed up for the event. She is wearing an extravagant light blue ball gown, and her hair is carefully done up. 

“Natasha? What are you doing here?”

“Why I came to dance with you, of course.” She steps closer and drapes her arms around my neck, swaying to the nonexistent music. Stay calm. Don’t panic. There’s no way I’m making her do this. I’m not even doing anything! Of course I’m the one making her do this, who else would it be?! Breathe in. Breathe out. My powers don’t control me. I control them. Just breathe. I can do this. I know how to do this.

As I focus on the magic coursing through my veins, a black mist envelops us, and the room returns to its original form一 a basic training room with black padded walls. I immediately take a large step back from Natasha.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, Natasha?! You know you can’t come in here! I could’ve seriously hurt you!”

“I...I’m sorry. I thought you’d just be moving shit with your mind. I didn’t realize you could do...that, whatever that was.”

“That was reality manipulation. I didn’t know you were here and I don’t have full control of it, so you got caught up in it. Are you okay? Do you remember it?”

“Yeah, I remember it clear as day. I was still me and I was still in control, it was just...different, I guess.”

“Well, I literally warped your reality, so even if you felt in control, you might not have been.”

“You stopped it, though. I remember when that seemed impossible. You’re getting better.”

“Thanks, I guess.” I awkwardly scratch the back of my neck. “What did you come in here for in the first place?”

“This is gonna sound crazy, but Scott Lang is here. We might have a way to bring everybody back.”

“Wait, what? Holy shit. It’s happening. Okay, come on then!” I eagerly walk past her, grabbing her hand as I pass her, and we leave my training room. I realize that I’m still holding her hand as we make it to the meeting room, and I immediately drop it, clearing my throat. If I wasn’t so familiar with the sensation, then I would swear that my ears and cheeks are on fire.

<//>

We all step onto the platform in matching white and red time-travel suits. “We’re really doing this?”

“Hell yeah, we’re doing this,” Clint answers.

“Alright, then. We bring everybody back,” I say with determination. “Whatever it takes,” Steve adds.

“See you in a minute,” Natasha adds with a smirk. Before I can appreciate how beautiful she looks with the glimmer of hope in her eyes, we’re flying through a flurry of colors. Nebula, Natasha, Rhodey, Clint, and I land on Morag. We all say our respective goodbyes before Nat, Clint, and I get on a jet to head to Vormir.

<//>

“A soul for a soul.”

“What? That’s insane. Look, no offense, Mr. Bloody Tampon, but why should we just trust what you’re saying? Because you know their fathers’ names?”

“I didn’t.” I looked into Natasha’s eyes as she spoke and I instantly wish that I could replace the dull sadness with the bright hope that had filled them before.

“He doesn’t know my father’s name. If he’s some mystical being, then why can’t he tell me that?” I turned to face him as I asked the question.

“I’m afraid you are a mystery. I am meant to know everything about any being who seeks the stone, but I know nothing of your identity.”

“Hm. Seems like a load of bullshit to me,” I deadpanned.

“We need to do this. We need to bring everyone back. I’ve spent the past five years trying to reverse the snap, and now I finally know how to fix it. Let me do it.” As Natasha spoke, she grabbed both of my hands in hers.

“And I’ve spent every day for the past five years training to do this. I wasn’t just practicing sorcery and talking to dead people for fun, Nat. All I wanted was to do better一 to fix this. If anyone is jumping off that cliff, it’s gonna be me.”

“No. Absolutely not. Neither of you is dying for that stone. I’ve done horrible things these past few years. I’ve killed...so many people. It should be me,” Clint says, and Natasha and I turn to face him, but one of her hands remains in mine.

“No way in hell, Clint. And not you either, Nat. Both of you guys have families. You’re not sacrificing yourselves. I won’t let you. And you can’t stop me even if you try.” Nat gives me a questioning look as I mention her family and I speak in her head ‘I know about them, Nat. And they need you. She needs her big sister.’

“What are you saying?” I can hear the anxiety lacing Nat’s words, and it causes a pit to form in my stomach.

“I think you know what I’m saying, Natty.” 

“Then you don’t leave me much of a choice.” She shoots a Widow’s Bite toward me, but I stop it using energy manipulation without even having to lift a finger.

“You can’t beat me, Nat. Please, don’t fight me on this.”

“I call bullshit.” Out of the corner of my eye, I see Clint running toward the edge while we’re distracted, and I teleport in front of him, throwing him backward. I use mind control to force him to stay down. I sense Natasha running toward the edge behind me, and I teleport in front of her. I use energy manipulation to keep her in place, and I grab onto her biceps.

“I’m really sorry, Nat. I hate that I’m doing this to you, but I can’t let you throw yourself off a cliff for some stupid stone. Your life is worth so much more than that. You’re an amazing person, and your ledger was cleared of its red so long ago. Don’t let anyone tell you any different.”

“This is sounding an awful lot like a goodbye.”

“You can be sarcastic all you want, but I’m not walking out of this one, Natty.”

“Don’t do this. The team needs you.”

“No, they don’t, Nat, and we both know it. They need you.”

“And what if I need you?!”

“Well if that’s the case, you’ll figure it out, just like you always do. Don’t let something like this hold you back. Goodbye, Natasha Romanoff.” I kiss her cheek before turning around. I start walking towards the edge, but it quickly turns into a sprinting pace as I hear Nat screaming for me to stop. Just before I reach the edge, I lift the mind control from Clint and I release Nat, just in case it doesn’t automatically lift when I die. I push myself off the cliff, turning mid-jump so I’m not facing the ground. As I’m falling through the air, I see Clint holding Nat in his arms as her screams fill my ears. I hit the ground and everything goes black.

<//>

“Hello, y/n. It’s good to see you again.” I sat up and一 what the hell is that smell? “Ah, yes. That would be burning flesh. Welcome to Hell, darling.”

“Uh...what? Who are you?”

“Yes, I suppose I should explain, hm? I am Hecate, Goddess of一”

“Yeah, I know what you’re the goddess of. How did I get here?”

“I thought you were smarter than this. You died, obviously.”

“And went to Hell? Damn.”

“Oh, relax. Hell isn’t what the mortals think it is. This is the Underworld. All of the dead reside here. The bad people get punished, the good people don’t. Simple as that. We don’t have a lot of time, so I need to explain. I am cursed; I cannot leave the Underworld. However, my human embodiment can, and that is where you come into play. You hold all my power, and I can see you’ve been practicing, but you’ve never lived up to your full potential.”

“Hey! Rude!”

“Don’t interrupt. I didn’t allow you to live up to your full potential, not until we met, anyway.”

“And I had to die in order for that to happen?”

“Yes. I’m giving you all of my power, but I can still stop you if I ever need to. I know you don’t want to risk hurting the people you love, especially the redhead, but you need to trust yourself. Trust your powers. Have a little faith. You are a goddess, remember. Don’t let people forget it. That purple thumb is nothing compared to you, even with his colorful rocks. Your family needs you now. You must help them.”

“That’s it? Why do they need help? How will I know what to do?”

“I will always be there to help you, Y/N. You can handle this. This is nothing. You are part of me, just as I am part of you. You are my daughter, after all. I should know your capabilities better than anyone.”

“Wait, daughter?!”

“Oh, did I forget to mention that part? Oh well, it doesn’t matter right now, anyway. You need to go.”

“Go where?”

“Home, darling.” 

The earth above us cracks open and I can hear faint sounds of fighting on the surface. I look at Hecate as she nods. Before I even realize I’m doing it, black mist surrounds my body and lifts me through the crack. I step out of the mist onto the ground and a staff appears in my right hand. I tap it once on the ground and my white suit is replaced by an all-black leather outfit that’s definitely made for a goddess. I smirk and make eye contact with the titan across the battlefield. His sickly creatures race toward me as they notice the new threat on the field. I summon an army of ghouls from the cracks in the earth. As the aliens and the undead clash, I teleport in front of Thanos.

“And who might you be, dear?” He acts confident, but I can sense his fear.

“I am Y/N, daughter of Hecate.” He tilts his head in a questioning manner. “Oh, did someone not study mythology? Hm, then let’s be blunt, shall we? I’m a goddess, ass-chin.” I throw my staff at his throat, but he catches it. He moves to swing his large sword at me, but I capture his arm in black mist. When he tries to move the other arm, I restrain that one, as well. “Well, that surely can’t be all you’ve got, hm? Pity, I thought it’d be more exciting than that.” If I were to look in a mirror at that moment, I would’ve noticed my ghostly pale skin, black eyes, and the raw power spreading through my veins like a black road-map.

“It’s not over yet, my dear child.” Before I can question the meaning of his words, an alien tosses him the gauntlet. It slides on his exposed hand, but I hold it open with dark magic. I look around and notice that the army of the undead is nowhere to be seen. My teammates are pinned down, even with the help of those who were snapped. There is a feeling in my gut and a voice in my head that tells me what I must do. I pull the gauntlet off his hand with black mist and slide my hand inside. I feel the power surging into my body. “What are you doing? That power will kill you!” Thanos sounds truly desperate.

“That’s cute. Truly, it is, but you can’t kill someone who’s already dead.” I close my hand and snap my fingers. His army fades to dust and he slumps to the ground before floating away with them. I drop the gauntlet to the ground and look around. Natasha runs toward me and throws her arms around my neck in a firm hug.

“Wha一what happened to you? How are you here? I thought you died!”

I wrap my arms around her waist and rest my chin on her shoulder before saying, “I did die. I am dead.”

She pulls away and looks at me from head to toe. “Well that explains why you’re so damn pale, but now I have so many more questions.”

“I am Hecate’s daughter, so I am technically a goddess, like her. I’m not sure if I was technically resurrected or not, but I can probably一”

She cut me off with a gentle yet passionate kiss. She pulls away and searches my eyes. “I’ve wanted to do that for a very long time,” she admits.

“Me too,” I breathe out.

“Yeah, I picked up on that. You’re not very discrete.” I laughed and a smirk spread across her face. “As sexy as this whole ‘powerful goddess’ thing is, am I going to get the old you back? You know, the one who blushes whenever I look at her? The one who’s, like, alive?”

I smile at her and glance down at her lips as a thick black mist appears behind me. I step backward into it as her face morphs into a look of confusion. She disappears from sight as a wall of black fills my vision, and a surge of power spreads throughout my body. I fall to my knees and the black cloud disappears. Natasha rushes over and kneels in front of me. “Are you okay? What the hell was that?”

“I’m not entirely sure, but I think I’m alive again.” I lift my head and meet her eyes.

“Your skin isn’t crazy pale anymore, and your eyes are their normal color again.”

“Sweet.”

“Cool.”

We both crack up and I lean my forehead against hers as our laughter fades.

Tony interrupts our moment of peace. “This is all good and dandy, but does someone wanna explain what the hell just happened?”

I raise my head and look at my teammates一 my family. “I kicked the purple thumb’s ass. That’s what happened.” I can feel a warm presence in my heart, and I know that my mother is with me.

“Yes, yes, I noticed. I also noticed a bunch of demons. Care to explain that one?”

“They weren’t demons...they were just...the souls...of dead people. I can summon the dead. You knew that.”

“Uh, I definitely didn’t know that.” I laugh and shake my head at the eccentric man. 

I stand up, pulling Natasha with me, and bring her into another embrace. “I’m really glad you’re okay, Natty,” I whisper in her ear before pressing a delicate kiss to her temple.

A/N: I literally had this completely finished and edited over a month ago and I hadn’t posted it yet soooooo... idk here it is

[aetheternity]

Hello! I’ve read your work and fallen in love! I don’t know if your requests are open, but I really like the Armin x you x Levi post you wrote🥰 may I please request a smut of this? Thank you!

First of all thank you! I'm so glad you're in love with my work. 😊 Second of all I'm sorry this took a while I got sick and writing smut while being sick is honestly disgusting. Plus I recently fell in love with Saiki K and have been binge watching it . 🤭 N e ways! Hope you enjoy this.

Warnings: Polyamory, threesome, Nsfw content.

Ok you'll be honest with yourself four years ago you didn't expect to be as happy as you are now. 

After you'd grown sick of your living arrangement with your parents. You'd left that life behind. Moving into the small empty bedroom your best friend since your last year of middle school had open in his surprisingly tiny apartment. 

And when you said tiny. You meant tiny. 

Some rooms in the apartment weren't even big enough for someone to stand in with their arms outstretched. Not to mention a couple of your nights were spent huddled next to Armin on the couch with a huge blanket around your bodies because the heat randomly shut off. 

You'd think a situation like that would be worse. But weirdly enough it had been the best for both of you as your relationship had always had a sort of looming sexual tension that went unexplored. 

Long lingering touches to your waist got just a little bit longer while trying to squeeze past you in the bathroom. "Sorry I just need my brush." Armin would whisper. Warm palm against your hip. The ghost of his pelvic bone so close yet so far away. Just the realization making you arch in his grasp. You'd hold his gaze and in the back of your mind you could watch the soft slither of his tongue as it wet his gorgeous pink lips so many times over. 

Of course it escalated with neither of you ever saying a word about your feelings. You spraying water from the sink on a shirtless Armin during a heat wave that just wouldn't let up as he walked into the kitchen wearing only grey sweatpants. (Yup.. only sweatpants.) The way they hung so low on his hips practically begging for your tongue to stretch across the expanse of his pelvis. 

Him hugging you tight around the waist for literally any reason he could think of. (And he found a new reason everyday.)

And then it escalated a little further.. you pulling back the shower curtain to "complain" about him eating your leftovers. Him pulling you into his lap while the two of you watched tv. 

And one day it just ended. And by ended it meant you two opened a bottle of wine on New Years and the ball wasn't the only thing that dropped. He had you laying ass up, legs spread and pussy sobbing as he rocked your hips for eight fucking hours with no stop. Did that table break? During hour five but Armin managed. 

And then you guys moved. After a mutual agreement that the two of you were aware of each other's feelings and wanted to be together. You'd both managed to pool enough money together to afford a bigger place with two bedrooms. One unused and one that was immediately broken in with Armin over stimulating you the second the boxes were halfway unpacked. 

Fast forward to a man named Levi moving in across the hall, him developing feelings for you over a long period of seeing you daily thanks to his best friend absolutely adoring you and constantly inviting herself into you and Armin's home.

After a while you'd started picking up on the signs of his affection too. His long glances that sometimes didn't even break when you looked back at him. The little gifts that began to show up at your door. The way he'd bring over food when he knew Armin wasn't home. 

Once you'd started to develop feelings too Armin allowed you a night. One night to see if those feelings were actually real and what they might mean. Cue a night of carriage rides, roses (lots and lots of roses), stargazing and a kiss that damn near floored you and it was more than one night. 

Two nights and Levi had had you on his couch with him snuggled in what would soon become your favorite blanket. Three nights and Levi had you eating his mom's homemade spaghetti. And by a week you were begging for Levi to fuck you harder, fingers shaking on his white tiled kitchen floor. His relentless thrusts still causing your thighs to tremble hours after. 

He looked so lost in bliss in a way you'd never seen him before and you hugged onto him so tight you didn't even go back to Armin that night. Just curled up under your favorite blanket on his couch with his cock nestled deep inside you. His kisses littering your face till the moment you fell asleep. 

It was definitely a cause for fear. An unrelenting kind and you sat down on the couch with Armin the next day explaining how deeply you loved them both. Only to be shocked when he brought up the topic of polyamory. It definitely shocked you a ton when Armin agreed to it after some explanation of his own feelings but the real surprise was Levi explaining how he'd also thought about it and would be up for it. 

And thus began the beautiful bloom of a poly relationship after him and Armin had gotten better acquainted. You know after you guys all moved because Levi hated living in the apartment. 

The three of you left to live in a gorgeous house. (For once you were living in a place with more than one floor and an island in the kitchen.) A place you'd been calling home for over a year now. 

~~~~ 

Your breath hitched soft moans stuttering off your lips. You don't even remember who started it but here you and Armin were, his breath tickling every bit of your face with sweet languid kisses. One hand brushing over every curve you possessed while the other was softly brushing in between your pussy lips. 

Your body perched in his lap as he sat against the headboard. Pillows scattered around the two of you as you writhe and begged for more of his touch. 

You were probably drawing blood where you were grasping his shoulders but you couldn't even begin to think about it. Armin's warm breath tickling your lips in a soft chuckle. The tips of his fingers softly caressing your clit as you let out little whimpers of pleasure. 

"You promise you'll moan nice and loud for daddy's fingers?" He asked, closing the distance between your lips with a much slower kiss. 

"Yes." You could feel his nail brush inside and you almost buried his fingers but his harsh grip on your ass paused your movements. Your thighs shook and you rubbed your forehead against his. Leaned into his broad chest with both hands. "Please daddy.." 

"Good girl." 

With one more small kiss he laid you out flat on the bed free hand coming up to squeeze your areola. With a tap of your outer thigh you spread for him watching the way his spit dribbled off his lips and directly onto your already wet hole. The mixture making a much wetter sound as he pumped two fingers fully inside. 

With a gasp you yanked the sheets hard, almost squeezing your thighs together. His fingers curling, snatching your breath away. The bed creaked a little as he repositioned himself, stomach flat against the sheets with his mouth on your thighs. Spreading a soft array of little open mouthed kisses. 

"A-Armin.." 

"Keep your ankles in the air, love. I don't wanna punish you tonight." He breathed 

You sucked in a breath, reaching out to hold your ankles. Almost immediately you felt embarrassed by the high pitched moan that fell off your lips at the first long slide of his flat tongue over your pussy lips.

And then right in between them in a beckoning motion over your clit that had you biting into your lip. The smile on his lips so evident over your core. 

You lifted your head in time to watch the slow drip of more of his saliva stretch between your clit and his bottom lip. Tongue immediately outstretched with eyes drawn to your features as he lapped it back up again. 

With his free hand he spread apart your pussy lips a little further giving your clit an almost harsh knead with his thumb. The friction making you cry out and almost drop your legs onto his back. 

His fingers carefully slipped out of you to your own dismay. The slow drag against your walls almost painful, that is until his tongue was sliding in to replace them. Giving your inner walls a massage that made your gaze fall white. 

You felt him hum. Sweet vibrations flowing through your cunt as he slurped down every bit of your juices. His arms snaking around your legs to yank you so much closer as he pushed his tongue impossibly deeper. 

"Daddy.." You begged 

"Shh, keep moaning for me baby.." He hummed, flicking your clit with his thumb. 

You obeyed with an arch that probably could've launched you off the bed if not for Armin's tight hold. Your eyes squeezed shut, brain going completely empty. 

"Such a good girl." He breathed "So good for daddy." 

The pad of his tongue stretched over both sides of your lips with little nibbles. Sucking the skin into his mouth roughly. You could feel his eyes on you, practically see those bright blues pop with lust as he pressed his tongue back inside with languid thrusts. 

Your heartbeat pounded in your ear and you felt the hold he had on your legs loosen. His two fingers delving and sliding back into your warm fluttering cunt. The overwhelming pleasure forcing your hands back on the bed holding out for dear life. 

"Daddy.. daddy please.." You cried 

"Getting close baby?" When you nodded vigorously he smirked. "Come on baby almost there." He hummed 

He sped up his tongue, fingers stretching you open quickly adding another. Your breath caught with a high pitched cry that left tears  flowing over your cheeks. An endless chorus of his name flooding off your lips. His own moans sending vibrations through your core. 

Your stomach tightened, toes curling in the air as you tried and failed to steady your breathing. One of your hands unfurled itself from the sheets now sticking to your sweat soaked body. Carding it in the beautiful blond locks between your legs. 

"Baby.. baby I'm about to-" He sucked your clit into his mouth and your eyes went hazy, head falling back. 

"Finish baby, come on.." He whispered 

Your lips spewed curse words between every breath lost. When his fingers tapped smoothly against your g-spot you knew that was it for you. And with one last shudder you came around his fingers, screaming his name as your orgasm racked over you in a loud burst. 

And he licked up every drop, nose buried to collect it all like it was the best thing he'd ever tasted. 

"A-Armin.." You shuddered body flush and hazy. 

His fingers feel wet, a combination of your pussy juices and the sweat between both your bodies. You slowly blinked in the darkness combing strands of his hair back as your lips made contact. The mixture of your taste and his on your tongue, in an almost overwhelming way. 

You tensed under him. Hands stretching over every part of him you could reach only for him to back away a bit. With your nails still gently grazing over your back he pressed his damp forehead into yours, fingers sweeping over every bit of bare skin. 

With barely any warning he hoisted you to your feet next to the edge of the bed. And you reached out for his shoulders as he slipped his boxers down his legs. Inching himself back up to the headboard. 

"Take a seat." He gestures, laying back. 

He's got a hand around your waist in seconds. His cock soon just below you, so so close to where you wanted it. Where you needed it so badly. 

Your knees came down on both sides of him, carefully administering your weight evenly until every inch of his hot cock was stretching you open. His tip soon resting firmly against your cervix like it always did and you both relinquished a sweet gasp. 

"F-fuck.. so full.." You huffed 

It felt like it had been so long when in reality it'd probably only been a week. And yet you were moaning like you'd been starved of him. Rocking your hips like he'd punished you with no cock for months. 

Suddenly his arm wrapped itself around your waist again. He hoisted you up with a strong hold moaning directly in your ear as he thrusted up into you like it was the first time. His knees pressing your thighs open.

A hiss falling off your lips as he kissed over your shoulder and collar. Hands squeezing both your breasts like they were his personal stress balls. 

You hadn't been aware of how hard Armin was going until the rough knocks of the bed hitting the walls finally began to settle in your ear. But you could barely care Armin's cock was hitting every spot inside of you and your leg was starting to twitch where it was forced outward. 

His breath grew more ragged with every thrust. Sweat dripping off your forehead onto his. His sweet murmurs of praise turning you on even harder.

"Love, you take me so well.. You're doing so amazing…." He moaned 

You leaned your head into him, feeling that sweet familiarity deep in the pit of your stomach. You reached around to the back of his head, yanking a little rougher than intended on his scalp. 

The uneven slaps of your skin meeting managed to keep the two of you distracted  until the sound of the door practically slamming into the wall shook you both to a halt. 

Levi's dry sigh filled the once noisy bedroom. "Do you two have to make so much noise? I'm busy with a work project." 

Despite Levi's gripes Armin angled his cock back towards your g-spot barely grazing it but it was enough to force a little mewl from your lips. 

He laughed, pulling you a little closer. "Mm sorry Levi. Didn't know we were being so loud." 

There was a small glint in Levi's eyes. The quick dart of his pupils to where you and Armin were joined and then back up to your face putting a devious grin on your face. 

"You should take a break, daddy." You said 

"Tch." Levi huffed, "This thing needs to be done by tomorrow. I don't have time for this." 

You reached out for him with one arm. An arm that unsurprisingly didn't even reach close to him from his stance near the bedroom door. By this point Armin's thrusts were going at almost the same pace as before. Not as rough but enough to resume the gentle rock of the bed. 

You let out a soft moan as Levi took the bait, slowly walking over to the bed. His finger carding affectionately through your tousled hair. He leaned in, pecking your kiss swollen lips. 

If there was anything you knew for a fact about Levi it was that he always had a hard time saying no to you. 

To be completely honest it didn't surprise you that Levi was already more than a little hard. Though it did surprise you how easily he gave in today. Watching with unchanged expression as you pulled his belt from the loops and buckle, undoing it with a light clatter which quickly followed the almost inaudible sound of his zipper being pulled down.. 

You let out a relaxed hum, lip pressed between your teeth at the sight before you. His thick cock poking out over the hem of his underwear. You grasped at the sheets with one hand a little shaky as you slipped his boxers down over his ass until they pooled at his ankles. 

Armin slipped his hand under you right up against your stomach. Levi immediately followed suit already knowing what he was doing. He stepped over to the edge of the bed as Armin laid you down on your stomach. Levi's wet tip dangling in front of your lips. Before you could even register it Armin had your hips in the air slipping all the way back inside with a loud gasp. 

Meanwhile you were wetting your lips. Hand curving up and down the length of his dick. You inched forward on your elbows to slowly surround Levi's dick in the warm confines of your mouth. The hiss he let out sending shivers over your spine.

"How's it feel? I know how much you love taking two dicks." Levi grunted 

Armin reached forward, tugging your hips in close with one hand. The other hand on your ass as leverage. Allowing him to ease out to his tip before slamming back inside. Your eyes rolling back with pleasure. 

As if it wasn't already difficult enough to take Levi he wasn't even fully hard yet. Just expanding in your mouth as you coaxed your throat into relaxing enough to slide every thick inch down. 

"I know that pretty mouth can do so much better than this." He reaches out with zero warning to grab a fist full of your hair. Yanking you forward with barely any restraint. 

Though you must admit the sound that leaves his throat when he does is almost worth the tears pricking over your hollowed cheeks. 

"Baby I'm so fucking close.. I'm gonna fill your pussy." Armin sighs, his hand comes down to wrap around the base of your throat angling your mouth into Levi's rough thrusts. 

Your heart is hammering but you close your mouth as best as possible without biting to take Levi's cock. Already feeling the effects on your jaw as he presses in a little harder with a deep moan. 

By now his cock is fully hard rocking you back into Armin with deep rough thrusts that almost make you gag. 

"That's my g-irl.." Levi grunts, even though they're small his nails dig into your scalp so roughly you could swear you felt something trickling down to the back of your neck. 

You grip the bed sheets with both your toes and fingers, the creaking around you unmistakable. 

"I'm cumming.. I'm cumming!" Armin cries out and you'd honestly give anything to see his gorgeous blue eyes roll back and the little smile that curves against his lips as he climaxes. 

You finish just a couple seconds ahead of him. Eyes unfocused where they roll into shut. Little sounds muffled by the thick dick stretching open your throat. The feeling of Armin's cum flooding your walls makes you whimper and he lets out the softest moan as his orgasm slowly whittles away. 

Your gaze soon fixes on Levi only to be met with the prettiest tint of pink brushed right up against his cheeks. His eyes pressed tightly closed, lips parted over every harsh breath. 

It didn't take long for the sweet drag of Armin's cock to begin again. His light touches to your spine making you arch a little higher. 

"You look so fucking pretty, you know that?" Armin mummered, cock slamming into your g-spot. "Doesn't she look gorgeous, Levi?" He asked with a little whimper. 

Levi's eyes fluttered open a hint of a smirk cresting on his lips. "Like she's gonna.. pass out.." He combed your hair back again gripping it a little tighter forcing your head up. He paused at the back of your throat. "Can't take it baby? Want me to pull out?" 

You grunted at every slam of Levi's dick until that all too familiar sound flooded your ears, followed by almost every curse in the english language. 

"You're doing so well.. f-uck.." He moaned "Swallow my cum.. swallow it. I'm almost there.." 

Levi hoisted his leg up against the already shaky foot of the bed using as much leverage as possible. His fingers tugging your head forward on every pump of his thick cock. Mixing with the loud gasps of Armin behind you as he also neared his end. 

And with one more deep thrust Levi was spilling down your throat with a choked groan. Cock head nestled deep in your tired throat holding you still as his orgasm flooded from his body. 

You were a little relieved when he stepped back allowing your jaw to relax. The still wet tip pressing sweetly against your lips. 

"Such a pretty girl.." He said, so low you thought you imagined it. 

"Switch with me." You heard Armin say 

You sighed as his cock left you, feeling yourself immediately being flipped onto your back. His large hands coming down from where he now stood over you to perfectly envelop your breasts. Meanwhile Levi was pulling your hips close and sliding in as effortlessly as he always did. 

"Levi!" You threw your head back 

Armin smirked over you, his hands kneading a little rougher. You arched into his touch pressing the balls of your heels into Levi's back, pushing him just a little deeper- 

God it was perfect. The feeling of his dick so much different from Armin's but honestly just as perfect. The moan you let out was downright pornographic and you pressed your head back into Armin's thigh. 

One of Armin's hands came up to your face brushing aside your hair soaked in tears. "You look perfect. But I wanna make you more perfect." 

He pulled himself off the bed, sliding a hand over your cheek. "I wanna paint your face baby. It's so perfect.." He mumbled already pumping his long dick over your face. "You'll let me right.." He whimpered 

When he leaned in again it was to press a little kiss to your lips. "P-please.." 

The curve of his lips made your heart flutter in your chest. "Mm.. let Levi see when I'm finished." 

One of Armin's hands sat rather aggressively on the edge of the bed. And you could see the way every vein in his hand moved. Grip tightening a little with every pump of his cock, back and forth his knuckles practically ripping through his skin. 

You gasped as Levi leaned over you, fat cock pressing into your G-spot. "Stop ignoring me." He grunted 

He slid his teeth beneath your earlobe administering a barrage of sweet nibbles mixed with more aggravated bites. 

"Levi.. Levi!!" 

Armin gasped above you, "Almost there.." He moaned 

A bright white was starting to take over your vision as you shut your eyes, mouth hung open for Armin's cock with absolutely no sound coming out as Levi continued to use your tired pussy. 

Small huffs of fuck littering the air. You bore your nails into Levi's back and chest. His leg shaking against you as he pushed through his last thrusts. 

"I-I'm.. I- shit!" Armin came first, missing Levi's head by a hair (literally) as ropes of hot cum plopped onto your face, you barely registering it as your own orgasm hit you like a two ton truck. Levi's thumb coaxing small spasms from you through your clit. 

Levi huffed, face scrunched, lip bitten and eyes shut as he came for the second time with a hard gasp. 

The room went quiet for what couldn't have been any longer than 2 minutes before Armin was pulling himself up from where he'd slumped over the bed. 

"Levi, look how sexy she looks with my cum all over her face." He cooed 

It stuck to your eyelids as you blinked though ultimately chose to keep your eyes shut. You felt Levi's small chuckle and the brief feeling of him slipping out of you to your own disappointment.

"Open baby." Armin said 

As soon as you did his fingers slipped into your mouth. The salty/sweet residue of his cum littering your tongue. Quickly joined by Levi who swiped his thumb across your eyelids before pressing it into your mouth. 

"How're you feeling?" Armin asked as you opened your eyes slowly. 

You blinked in their faces standing above you with a small smile. "Tired." 

"You can't sleep until you've washed off. It'll be better for you anyway." Levi replied, heading into the bathroom. 

Armin quickly followed after carefully lifting your fatigued body off the bed. It took a couple minutes for Levi to get the temperature to perfect but once he did you slowly felt yourself sinking into perfectly warm water. 

The soreness in every part of your body already beginning to dissipate as you leaned back against the edge of the tub. 

"We did a number on you hmm?" Armin asked, carding your hair back. 

"I'll make you some tea once you're cleaned up. Then we can cuddle under your favorite blanket." Levi said 

"Thank you guys but I feel like I could fall asleep here." You say lifting your thighs for Levi to clean under. 

"I promise I'll pay you back big time tomorrow." Armin replied, rubbing your arm with soap. 

Your lips curled up deviously, "Now that I look forward to." You grab his chin pulling him into you, pecking his lips. 

[bokettochild]

For the fluff prompt thing, how about Time and Hyrule? Maybe something with fairies? Thanks!

I did some Fairy Hyrule for you, Anon!

Sorry I didn't get this done sooner, I've been busier than I expected since I opened up asks. I hope this is along the lines of what you wanted!

Time is safe.

When first he’d met all the other heroes, Hyrule had felt wary and uncertain. After all, it’s only in the castle and Mama’s cave that he’s ever known safety, and strangers are nearly always bad news if they’re being friendly with him.

And these strangers were very friendly.

Most of them had greeted him with smiles when he’d been dropped into their camp, their explanation being that a goddess of some kind wanted him to help them with something. Hyrule had never heard much about any goddesses, although he’d seen a statue or two in his travels, but most of the other people here seemed to know what was up, and they were only too eager to tell him.

And by too eager, he meant too eager. They were entirely too friendly with a stranger, and only two of them seemed interested in giving him his space: the one with the pink stripe in his hair and the one with lots of armor. He learns their names first: Legend and Time.

Legend is just as wary of him as he is of Legend, but Time... Time stares after him blankly, unreadable. Even so, the exotic taste of curiosity rolls across his tongue as a single royal blue orb stares at him, heavy and yet weightless.

Time is warm. Warm in a way that Hylians don’t know, that only the forest people and animals know. He is Safe, he is Comfort, and he is Known. Hyrule doesn’t know what it is, doesn’t know what makes the older hero so, but he finds that he is drawn to the man’s side, that he leeches comfort from him.

“Again?” The vet’s violet gaze is flat, but Time can see the warmth in it regardless.

During the night, Hyrule has become wrapped around Time as tightly as a limpet, and as the Vet stands over the two of them, looking down at where Time attempts to free himself from Hyrule’s grasp, he chuckles softly.

“Kid has an iron grip.” Time offers apologetically as he falls back on his bedroll, Hyrule’s sleeping form still clinging to him. “Sorry, legend, I don’t think I can take over watch as planned.”

The vet smirks. “Yeah, no. Rest, Old Man, he’s not letting you go until morning when he turns fairy pink when he wakes up.”

And Legend’s right, when Hyrule wakes up the next morning that is exactly what he does when Warriors starts teasing him, and while Time reassures the youngster that he doesn’t mind all that much, Hyrule looks utterly mortified.

“I don’t do that, not normally. It’s not safe to sleep close to other people.” The traveler whispers to legend on the road that day.

His mentor glances over at him knowingly. “Only people you don’t trust. Hasn’t Time earned your trust yet?”

“Has he earned yours?” Bushy brows pull together as Hyrule looks down at his friend.

Legend snorts a laugh, shoving his hands in his pockets absently. “Of course not, but I don’t really trust most folks, not about myself anyways. But you? You’re my successor, and if there’s one person I’d trust to look out for you if I couldn’t, it’d be the guy in a giant suit of armor who wields a sword that’s bigger than me. Least ways, he’s the least likely to get you killed.”

And Hyrule Knows, knows with a capitol ‘k’, that that means one thing in short: Legend trusts Time and Hyrule both, and he trusts both of them to take care of each other. That’s all he needs. Legend isn’t called the vet for nothing after all, and from what the two of them have seen, their worlds are the worst off and most dangerous, so if they both agree that Time is someone to be trusted, then he’s safe.

A whispering voice in his mind tells him he knew that already.

He’s woken up clinging to Time so many times in the morning, even if he wasn’t anywhere near the man when he fell asleep, that he’s given up trying to avoid it. Time seems to appreciate the warmth and contact as much as he does anyways, and the man always looks lighter in the mornings.

Hyrule wishes he was there now, curled up under Time’s arm and resting his head against the older man’s chest, breath coming deep and soft as sleep slowly seeps its way across his body. He wishes he was back in camp, holding on tight to someone and leaching heat off of them with a contented sigh. He wishes he could free his wings and rest against Time’s side while drinking sugar water and listening to the melodic hum of Time’s voice.

But he isn’t there. He isn’t with Time or the others. He’s stranded in Legend’s Hyrule, hiding out in the entrance to a dungeon with Four curled close to his side, the both of the shaking in the cold and wet as rain seeps down through the dungeon door to puddle at their feet.

It’s cold, and wet, and dark.

But at least the monsters can’t find them.

It’d been the work of mere minutes to defeat all the monsters in the room, and while they have a key and tool to pass on through the dungeon, that’s not their intent; the two small heroes just want a place out of sight and out of the rain while they figure out what to do.

Four sneezes.

“Did any of the others mention a camping spot?” Hyrule muses aloud, leaning back against the cold stone walls that line the room and trying to ignore the running of his own nose, or the puffiness of his face.

“Kakariko.” Four sniffles, rubbing his face and arms and fingers in an effort to warm up. “They said it was a couple hours yet though.”

Great. They’d fallen to the back of the group when Four had seen two minish trying to help one of their wounded friends over to a burrow. Naturally, Four had offered them help, and Hyrule had trailed along so Four wouldn’t be alone.

The minish village was only a quick dart away from the path, but by the time they had got back, they had found that the others had moved on and a couple ‘blins stood on the path instead. It took a bit of effort to kill the monsters, but once they were done and continued along the path, one thing after another had gone wrong, and they’d been left here; cold, alone, and with no way to hunt down the others in the sopping wet of the storm outside.

Four sneezed again.

“We need to find them.” Hyrule whispers softly, even though in the big room he knows that Four will hear it too. He doesn’t care. He’s cold and tired and his feet hurt from being cold and standing on stone floors for so long, and he really wants to be warm and safe again.

“We can’t.” Four sniffles softly, brows drawn in irritation as he wipes his nose for the nth time. “They didn’t leave a trail we can follow, and besides, they’re probably already looking for us, it’s been a few hours.”

“How will they find us if we’re in here though?”

“We churned up actual mountains of dirt to get in here when that Like-Like chased us down, they’ll notice.”

A smile flits across his face, even in their predicament, he can’t resist a light jab at his brother. “Were they actually mountains though? Or did they just look like it?”

Bright blue shimmers up at him. “I will come for your ankles if you say that again.”

Hyrule’s grin grows, and he’s about to respond, about to tell Four that of course it’s his ankles, the shorter hero can’t reach anything else, but then something brushes his senses. Something Safe, and Warm and Known.

“Time.”

“We haven’t even started fighting yet.” Four cocks a brow.

“No, Time’s coming.” Hyrule’s feet carry him to the door, steps light and head cocked on one side as if he was listening.

He’s not sure how he knows, how he feels it, but he does. Time is close, he’s getting closer every minute and-

Hyrule throws the door open and rockets into the warmth and safety that is Time’s arms, sighing in contentment as something within purrs happily at the closeness of the older man. Time is Safe. Time is Warm and Time is Known.

Warriors’ Hyrule is big.

The towns are bigger than anything Hyrule’s ever seen, even Hyrule Castle itself, and don’t get him started on the cities!

Hyrule felt very small standing in the market of Castletown.

People bustled to and fro, baskets on their arms, carts at hand, children and animals trailing behind and dust dirt and NOISE following them. It was really getting to be too much, and Hyrule was going to wear out the hem of his tunic in no time with the way he was rubbing at it.

Wars led the way through the town confidently, stopping to greet people and make exchanges as the rest of them followed after. Hyrule really wished Wars had agreed to take the non-suffocating and anxiety triggering path to Hyrule Castle, but he hadn’t said as much and Wars had already said they needed supplies.

It would be fine; he could hold out a bit longer. He couldn’t.

The others followed Warriors’ lead, Sky keeping holf of Legend and Four both while Wind kept close to Wild. It was important they didn’t let the smaller members of their party be caught up in the crowd, but some of them looked torn between hating being watched like kids, and taking comfort in the security of it all.

Oh man, Hyrule would love nothing more than to switch places with them. Sky was always warm and safe, even if he was mighty trusting, and Twilight’s big hands always enveloped everyone else's so that they felt secure in knowing they wouldn’t be pulled away.

Delicate fingers unconsciously reached out and caught hold of the hand beside them.

Time started at the contact, gaze traveling quickly down to where Hyrule’s small hand had caught hold of his own, broken nails and calloused finger pads clutching tightly against his own weathered skin. The traveler hung close, tucked in on himself and shying away for contact with strangers.

The image of a small boy dressed in green trying to weave through a bustling town, his fairy hidden in his hat so she wouldn’t be lost as he was jostled and knocked into by strangers and possible enemies and people who stared and watched and bumped.

Time clasped the hand in his a bit firmer, watching with satisfaction as Hyrule’s shoulders relaxed slightly.

Warm. Safe. Known.

Time gasped awake, eyes flying wide open as harsh breaths surged through his lungs to catch in his throat and make him gasp for air. He didn’t know at what point he’d sat up, didn’t know when he’d turned his gaze over to survey their camp, blue eyes trailing over sleeping forms and mind frantically counting the young heroes around him.

Wind curled up on top of Wars.

Two.

Four nestled between Twilight and Wild (a good place, they both slept hot).

Five.

Hyrule curled up next to Legend’s empty bedroll, Sky just a few feet away, lost in the folds of his sail-cloth.

Seven.

Legend, sitting with his back to the flames as he watched Time, sword bare across his equally bare knees.

Eight.

“You okay, old man?” The vet raised one brow, expression almost judgemental if you didn’t know him, eyes lidded and scowl set.

Time didn’t answer. Shivers wracked his frame, cloudiness refusing to leave his mind as his thoughts and emotions swirled within.

Safe. Home. Safe. Home.

He wanted to be safe. He wanted to be home. He wanted to blink awake in his own treehouse with Navi scolding him for sleeping in, and then run down to the fields to play with Malon and Epona.

He wanted Navi to pinch his ear and tell him that he should have known better than to sleep without a blanket.

He wants Navi to curls up in his hair and Sing.

Time doesn’t process what he’s doing, but Legend watches in surprise as the man grips ahold of his blanket and softly creeps over to the others. Legend’s empty bedroll is as cold and firm as a rock, but Time doesn’t seem to even notice that it’s there, curling up around Hyrule with a sigh that says he’s not entirely awake.

Soft lights shimmer over the pair as Time drifts off again, the creases of his brow smoothing as the warm and constant buzz of Hyrule’s soft snores washes over him.

Legend sighs, stretching his legs and looking up at the sky.

He’ll just sleep on Time’s bedroll tonight he supposes.

[boimgfrog]

hey @pantoranprincess​ i uh. i wrote it <3

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29139768

full fic under the cut

The two men were seated at a table, enjoying lunch despite the… cozy size of Luke’s office. Conversation flowed easily, albeit mostly one-sided.

               “anyways, that’s when I saw Obi-Wan, my first master-” Luke paused, noticing Din’s helmet tilt slightly at the name, “you do know who Obi-Wan was, right?”

               Din froze, not expecting the Jedi to pick up on his confusion, “the name sounds familiar… Bo-Katan mentioned him once,” he took a sip from his straw, “said he was a sister-seducing- man-whore? Was he some kind of escort?”

               He waited as his words washed over Luke. The jedi blinked twice, a smile flickering past his lips.

               “yes,” Luke nodded, “he was, excellent job,” he spooned more soup into his own bowl, hiding his smile behind its large spoon.

               “and he was your master?” Din asked, tilting his head forward.

               “mhmm,” Luke set the spoon back into the bowl, matching din’s gaze through his lashes, “taught me everything he knew,”

               Din coughed, turning his attention back towards his lunch. he sipped at it, ignoring the blush that crept under his helmet.

The jedi huffed, eyes twinkling. Something told Din that maybe, just maybe, he’d lied about the Obi-wan thing.

                                                          -><-

The back of Luke’s head hit the ground, pulling a wheeze from his body. Above him, Din stood poised, cradling a very fussy green toddler. He extended a hand toward the fallen jedi, but Luke waved him off, leaning up on his elbows.

“’s nothing, no offense but,” he gestured to Grogu, who had calmed down some, “he’s no Vader, I’ll be fine,” this time, he accepted Din’s hand, hardly dwelling on how easily he pulled him up.

“Vader?” Din asked, shifting the baby to his hip, and pocketing the darksaber he’d previously been using.

Luke looked up at the Mandalorian, tilting his head with a smile, “Darth Vader? The emperor’s right-hand man?”

Din’s helmet betrayed to hint of recognition. Unbelievable. No way, there’s no way he was this clueless.

“big cape, scary helmet? Red lightsaber?” Luke tried, wracking his brain.

“oh, you mean like the guy on those old recruitment posters?”

“those- the recruitment posters?”

Din nodded, “I’d see ‘em plastered up in bars and stuff, back before the empire fell,”

Recruitment posters. Din, one of the best bounty hunters Luke had ever met, king of Mandalore himself, had only heard of Darth Vader via recruitment posters. Luke felt his chest flutter. He nodded along with whatever Din said next, mind elsewhere. If he hadn’t heard of Darth Vader… what else had he managed to miss?

                                                         -><-

“Din!” Luke called from down the hallway, footsteps tripping as he ran inside Din’s ship, “Din! My sister’s here,” he said, knocking on the solid metal hull, “She wants to meet you!” his voice made it sound like an important event, though Din could hardly see why exchanging niceties with the sister of a backwater jedi warranted such flare.

“mm,” Din pulled back the door, peering down at Luke who was bouncing on his toes, “why?”

Luke ignored him, grabbing Din by his gloved hand, and dragging him towards his office, “this could be a big opportunity for you,” he rattled on, eyes shining beneath his mess of dust-streaked hair, “it’s good for you to make connections like this, given your newly-found title-”

“connections?” Din interrupted, “what do you mean?”

Luke spared a confused glance back at the Mandalorian, still steadily walking him towards his sister, “my sister? Leia Organa?”

Din offered up no response, but Luke was enamored by it nonetheless. He could understand not knowing much about galactic history, after all, he was under the impression that Din lead a particularly... sheltered childhood. But things that were happening now? The new republic?

“she was the princess of Alderaan? She helps lead the New Republic?”

“Alderaan...” Din paused, “that’s the one that blew up, right?”

“yes,” Luke dropped Din’s hand, unhooking the tarp that shielded his office from view, “yes, it’s the one that blew up,”

“mm,” Din hummed thoughtfully, “is she a jedi too?”

“sort of, I’ve been helping her train,” Luke said, checking his hair in the gleam of Din’s helmet.

“must’ve been why they blew up Alderaan then,” Din held still, “they were trying to kill her before she got too powerful,”

Luke’s hands stilled. He stared up into the Mandalorian’s visor, “huh,” he said, unable to stop his lips from twitching, “maybe so,” Luke turned around, brushing the tarp aside for Din to enter, hiding his smile behind the fabric.

                                                          -><-

It was almost cute, how little Din seemed to know about the galaxy he lived in. it didn’t really matter, of course. Most of it was just history lessons, nothing that would seriously impede him on a mission or in battle. And he wasn’t stupid by any means. He could speak more languages than Luke could count on his hands, flesh and robotic, and had flight skills that could rival even the most trained X-wing pilot. Still, it was hard not to feel fond when the Mandalorian only just now realized that Luke and Leia were twins.

“how was I supposed to know!”

“Din, starlight, our father would’ve been found out the second one of us was born, how exactly did you think he managed to swerve the jedi code to have another baby?”

“listen-” Din huffed, biting back his argument when he saw how ecstatic Luke was over this whole ordeal. Luke only nodded along expectantly, crossing one leg over the other. He was nothing if not encouraging.

“to be fair,” Din started, scowling at Luke’s twinkling smile, “she’s a princess, and you grew up on Tatooine,” he huffed, “and you never mentioned your dad was a jedi,” he added quickly, hoping Luke would miss it in his euphoria. No such luck.

“Din,” Luke stood up, reaching to cradle the Mandalorian’s helmet in his hands, “Anakin Skywalker? Did you think that was a coincidence?”

“it’s a big galaxy, there’s like half a billion ‘Djarin’s out there,” Din answered, but the bite had left his voice. It was hard to be frustrated when Luke was so close, all soft smiles and saying “Din” like it was a prayer.

Din leaned into the jedi’s touch. He’d blame it on the weight of his helmet later, and Luke would play along, teasingly offering to hold the helmet if it ever got too heavy. It was only ever teasing though. Luke never asked for more than Din was willing to give.

                                                         -><-

 They were pressed together, Din’s arm wrapped lazily around Luke’s waist, the jedi’s head leaning against his cold, armored shoulder. The beaches on Luke’s planet were nothing special, but the sunsets, oh the sunsets were spectacular. Grogu had been poking at Luke’s brain all day, playing memories of beach days on coruscant and building sandcastles with the crechemasters, until Luke finally caved and suited the baby up for a day in the water, inviting Din along.

Grogu had the time of his life, taking turns force-throwing sand at his dad and splashing his master until they joined in the fun. After a full day of entertaining the little gremlin, though, the two men had decided to impose Nap Time on the kiddo, sprawling out together on one of the many beach towels Luke had brought. (“you didn’t grow up on Tatooine, Din. Trust me, sand gets everywhere”)

The baby was fast asleep against Din’s armor, wrapped up so his head didn’t get bruised by the beskar.

“this was nice, huh?” Luke asked, shifting to look up at the Mandalorian. His eyes brushed over the thin stripe of exposed facial hair before he pulled his gaze away, embarrassed. Even the smallest of glimpses got his heart racing. Ridiculous, honestly.

“mhmm,” Din absentmindedly rubbed circles on Grogu’s back with his thumb, “could’ve done without all the sand in my armor, though,”

Luke laughed, “ugh I know,” he shifted again, pulling his arms from the poncho he was wearing, “I always get so much sand and dust in my hand, it’s the worst,”

Din tilted his helmet, “in your hand?”

“yeah,” Luke fiddled with his glove, pulling it off before tugging on one of his fingers, revealing the intricate system of wires, “you didn’t know?”

Din knew he was staring, and he knew that wasn’t polite but he just- “you’re… part droid?”

Luke laughed at that, a full, hearty laugh, one that had him gasping for air and rolling on his back. Din reached for his hand, holding it up so that it didn’t hit the sand as Luke fell back.

“yes,” Luke said, catching his breath, “I suppose that’s one way to put it,” he flicked his finger again, closing the wiring hatch. Din hadn’t removed his hand, so Luke twisted their fingers together, “you really didn’t know?”

“how was I supposed to?”

“the lifting things six times my weight didn’t tip you off?”

Din sputtered, “you’re a jedi??? You lift things six times your weight all the time???”

That got Luke laughing again, eyes twinkling in the setting sun. He was teasing Din, yes, but he was also so, so deeply fond of him. This, Luke asking questions, Din answering truthfully even though it made him look silly, this was everything to Luke. Luke trusted the Mandalorian, of course he did, and this made Luke feel like Din trusted him as well. just the thought alone was enough to make the Jedi smile wider, letting his head fall against the Mandalorian’s shoulder once more.

                                                           -><-

Luke paced around Din’s ship. It was bigger than his last one, and somehow even harder to navigate.

“Din, where’s your holoprojector?” Luke had promised to tell Leia when they were getting close, and they’d be closing in on Coruscant within the hour.

“don’t have one,” came the response from the dashboard, stopping Luke in his tracks.

“don’t- do you at least have a data pad?” no holoprojector? Maybe Din was poorer than Luke thought.

“yeah,” Din shuffled around for a moment, before handing Luke a beat-up data pad that was at least a century old.

“Din this thing is ancient,” he said, frowning at the actual layer of crust on the screen, “does it even have holonet?”

“nope,”

“wh-“ Luke was dumbfounded, “how do you get your news? What if something big happens??”

“if I need to know it, someone will tell me,” Din said as if it was the most obvious thing in the galaxy, but the thought left Luke reeling.

“Din, starlight, you didn’t know who Darth Vader was,”

“I did so-”

“yeah, from recruitment posters-”

“it still counts-”

“no it doesn’t-”

They fought like that for a moment, back and forth, until it dawned on Luke.

“holy stars,” he said, cutting Din’s rant short, “Din, is this why you didn’t know about Obi-Wan? And Anakin being my father? And Leia and the new republic?” Luke sat down in the co-pilot’s seat, scooping up Grogu and setting him in his lap.

Din grumbled, turning his attention back to hyperspace, “it wasn’t important,”

“starlight it was Darth Vader-”

The two started arguing again, bickering in that old married couple kind of way. Luke couldn’t help but smile at the situation. All this time, all these silly little accidents and conversations, all because the Mandalorian hadn’t bothered to install a holoprojector in his ship. It was amazing, really.

“I don’t see what the big deal is, you don’t know anything about Mandalorian culture,”

“Din no one knows anything about Mandalorian culture,”

Din slumped in his seat, hands gripping loosely at the steering controls. Luke leaned forward, bumping the Mandalorian’s with his head until Din faced him, pressing their foreheads together softly.

“hey,” Luke said in hushed tones, “for the record, I thought it was kinda hot,”

Din let out a breathy laugh, pulling back slightly to look in the jedi’s eyes.

“that says more about you than it does me, Skywalker,”

Luke matched his laugh, Din joining in before resting his forehead against Luke’s again. They were gonna get an earful from Leia when they landed without a party to welcome them, but for now they would simply rest, all shiny armor and gentle curls, bathed in the glow of hyperspace.

[rafael-silva]

in the warmth of your embrace: a tarlos fic

TK goes home to Carlos after a hectic shift, and Carlos takes care of TK in the way the paramedic needs, which partly comes in the form of TK cuddling Carlos and running his fingers through the officer’s soft curls.

for good things happen bingo: tarlos + playing with the other’s hair

emotional hurt/comfort, softness, cuddles, kisses, soft boyfriends, tk and carlos are so in love

2.5k | rated T | on ao3

*****

TK stumbles through the door, dropping his keys into the nearby bowl and lowers his duffel bag to the floor. He toes off his shoes near the entrance, stifling a yawn as he makes his way into the kitchen.

It had been a long, hectic shift, especially for the paramedics. Call after call kept them out of the firehouse for hours, barely even giving them enough time to grab a quick bite in between the radio coming to life with a new call.

He downs half of the cold water he pours into a glass, relishing in the cool liquid running down his dry throat. He loved saving lives, had truly found himself in it, but after exhausting shifts as this one, his knees barely able to carry him anymore, he longed for the moment he gets home to the comfort of his bed, to crawl into the loving and warm arms of his boyfriend.

It was Carlos’s day off, and the officer had spent it running errands and then had lunch at his parents’. Days when both of them aren’t working were a little difficult for them, being apart for many hours. Plus, their schedules haven’t been lining up well lately, making the time apart even harder.

At least when they were both working, Carlos would drop TK off at the firehouse, giving him a chaste kiss and a smile, promising to see him at home. TK returns the smile, reciprocating the promise and with one more echoed between them of please stay safe, they part ways, the knowledge that there are chances of them seeing either other sooner than that on calls bubbling in their stomachs.

But on days when one of them is off work, they try to spend as much lazy time in bed before one of them has to get ready to leave, exchanging sleepy smiles and kisses, mumbled good mornings and stealing some more cuddles under the soft sun rays shinning in through the curtains.

Eventually, though, the love spell has to inevitably be broken when the snoozed alarm rings. With a heavy sigh, one of them gets up, the other watching him with half lidded eyes, still sleepy around the edges. With a series of kisses from the forehead down to the lips, a goodbye is said, both already longing for each other after the first moment of separation.

The excitement at seeing Carlos simmers under TK’s skin, overriding his exhaustion as he climbs the stairs to their bedroom. The house is quiet, and he momentarily thinks Carlos might have fallen asleep, but he soon spots the soft yellow glow originating from the room and knows the officer is most likely still awake.

His gut is proven right when he stops in the doorframe, his eyes landing on Carlos. Carlos is sitting up in their bed, back against the headboard, wearing sweats and one of his old police academy t-shirts. His knee is pulled up towards his chest, an open book resting on his thigh, one TK recognizes is always on Carlos’s nightstand.

But that’s not what really captures TK’s attention, it’s Carlos’s eyeglasses sitting on the bridge of his nose and his loose curls hanging over his forehead that catch the paramedic’s eyes and they linger there.

He leans against the doorframe, arms going to cross over his chest as he watches his boyfriend, a smile spreading on his face. And by the way his curls run wild and free, TK can tell Carlos had just gotten out of the shower.

Carlos is so immersed in the reading material, TK can tell by the slight crease in his eyebrows, but he immediately senses TK’s arrival and presence by the door. There’s always been a tug between them, an invisible string connecting them. They always gravitate towards each other, even in their sleep, their connection cosmic and powerful.

Carlos looks up from his book and a blinding smile takes over his face, reaching his glittering brown eyes.

“Hey, babe,” Carlos greets. “How long have you been standing there?”

“A minute or so,” TK replies as he steps into the bedroom, walking over to Carlos. “I love watching you read, you know that.”

“Mhm,” Carlos nods, a light blush painting his cheeks as he gently cups TK’s face and returns the kiss TK leans in for.

TK sighs happily, allowing himself to feel all of Carlos and to melt against him.

“Welcome home,” Carlos whispers into the small space between them when they separate.

“It’s good to be home,” TK whispers back, leaning into Carlos’s touch and goes in for another soft kiss, resting his hands against the mattress on either side of Carlos to balance himself.

“How was your day?” Carlos asks, watching TK move over to the closet to get changed out of his uniform.

“It was alright, hectic and super busy though,” TK replies as he tugs his shirt out of his pants and starts to unbutton it.

Carlos marks the page and closes the book, returning it to the nightstand. He then goes to remove his round eyeglasses but stops when TK speaks.

“Oh, no, that stays on,” TK smirks.

An eyebrow travels up Carlos’s forehead behind his glasses. “Oh?”

TK shrugs and bites down on his lower lip, his cheeks turning pink. “I like it, you should wear it more often.”

Carlos adjusts the transparent frame as he chuckles.

TK gets on the bed, a knee supporting his body as he leans over to plant a kiss to Carlos’s cheek. “It’s sexy,” he whispers. “And cute.”

“As long as it ticks both those boxes,” Carlos winks.

“Oh, it definitely does,” TK confirms with a wiggle of his eyebrows as he continues to change into something more comfortable. “And I see you’ve finally gotten around to continue it,” he gestures to the now closed book.

Carlos nods. “I had to reread a couple of chapters to get back on track but it’s good, and there was some free time after coming home from my parents’ to really get back into it.”

“Yeah, I would imagine you’d have to do that after months of not having time to read. And how was lunch?” TK asks, slipping an old NYFD t-shirt on and then sweats.

“It was lovely,” Carlos smiles. “Mom and dad really missed you there, though. Made me promise  to bring you over for another lunch as soon as possible.”

“I really wish I could have been there,” TK sighs, plugging his phone into the charger. “And here’s hoping our schedules line up better next week so we can do that.”

“Amen,” Carlos agrees. “Come here,” he lifts and opens his arm in TK’s direction. “You’re exhausted,” he adds, noticing his boyfriend is mere seconds away from toppling over.

TK nods, going to remove the duvet on his side and flicking it near the foot of the bed and gets in. The feeling of the soft mattress underneath his spent body is heavenly, but it’s nothing compared to the true comfort he feels as he rests in Carlos’s arm and tucks his face into the officer’s neck.

“I got you,” Carlos reassures, his arm going around TK’s shoulder and pulling him against him even more.

“You always do,” TK replies, brushing a kiss to the exposed skin of Carlos’s neck. “I missed you today.”

“I missed you, too, baby,” Carlos responds and presses a kiss to the top of TK’s head. “Texting will never be the same as seeing you on one of those calls.”

“Yeah,” TK agrees. “And we didn’t do much of that either thanks to the never-ending calls we got.”

“You saved lives, and I’m so proud of you, babe,” Carlos expresses, his voice coated with so much love and admiration for the younger man.

TK replies with another kiss to Carlos’s neck. “I never would have been able to make the change to paramedic without you. You guided me and supported me, your words gave me the final push I needed and your encouragement every day means more than words can express.”

“I’ve got your back, Ty, always,” Carlos vows.

“And I’ve got yours,” TK vows back.

“Is there anything you need?” Carlos asks, his hand moving up and down TK’s arms in the way he knows calms TK.

“Just this. Just you, ‘Los, you’re all I need,” TK replies with a smile.

“You’ve got me,” Carlos says and the kiss he gives TK this time is brushed against his temple.

TK nuzzles closer to Carlos, almost like he wants to disappear into his boyfriend and Carlos understands. On days like these, days that take a big toll on TK, TK is often in need of anchoring and grounding, and Carlos has learned over the months of their relationship that taking care of TK in the aftermath of said days takes on many forms. The officer has also gotten pretty good at knowing how to offer the comfort TK needs without TK having to ask for it.

He would have run a bath for TK and guided him to the bathroom when he returned home, knowing that the warm water and feeling Carlos’s touch would help TK, but after seeing just how tired TK was and how TK so eagerly gravitates towards him, Carlos knows exactly what TK needs.

TK needs to feel Carlos under his touch, to hold him close, to melt into him.

Knowing this in his heart, Carlos shifts, and TK lets out a disapproving noise at the movement.

“Trust me,” Carlos says, slightly pulling back from TK.

TK frowns as they separate, not yet catching up to what Carlos is doing. He realizes Carlos’s plan when the cop positions his body in front of TK’s, his back now to TK’s chest and TK wastes no time in wrapping his arms around Carlos and pulling him close. It’s almost an automatic response, TK needing to be close to his boyfriend.

TK, now holding Carlos, drops a kiss to the back of the officer’s head while running the pads of his fingers over Carlos’s clothed stomach.

Their breathing syncs, slow and steady as Carlos’s hand goes to cover TK’s and he intertwines their fingers together.

TK’s other hand then moves to Carlos’s head and he begins carding his fingers through the soft curls there, Carlos humming in approval as TK weaves through the strands.

TK smiles when Carlos leans into his touch, knowing how much Carlos loves this and how it relaxes him. More than once, Carlos had fallen asleep while TK ran his fingers through his hair as they cuddled in front of the television.

“I love your curls like this,” TK’s voice breaks the comfortable silence that had fallen over them.

He twirls a curl around his finger, watching it scrunch back into place when he lets it go.

“I appreciate your days off because you don’t gel up your hair,” TK continues.

“Oh, is that the only reason you appreciate my days off?” Carlos asks, and TK can pretty much hear the smirk in his voice.

TK chuckles, the vibrations reaching Carlos’s body through their connection, making him smile.

“Not the only reason,” TK replies. “Your cooking is another reason I highly appreciate your days off.”

It’s Carlos’s turn to chuckle, nodding.

“But it doesn’t compare to our mutual days off and all the free time we get…” TK trails off, his voice suggestive and low against Carlos’s ear.

“Mhm,” Carlos agrees in a heartbeat. “Can’t wait for more days off together.”

Carlos lifts their connected hands and brushes a kiss to TK’s knuckles, TK squeezing Carlos’s hand in response. The tension eases and seeps from TK’s body and peace falls upon the couple.

“Feeling better, baby?” Carlos asks.

“Yeah,” TK nods, further anchoring himself through holding Carlos.

Carlos smiles and leans back against TK some more, knowing it’s helping TK.

He doesn’t exactly know what had happened during TK’s shift, if he had a rough call or something of the sort, but Carlos doesn’t push, also knowing that TK might shut down if he isn’t ready to talk about it yet.

Over the course of their relationship, Carlos had learned to give TK some space, that that was the best way to get TK to open up. The months of their relationship have helped Carlos know the difference between TK’s silences, being able to differentiate between those moments when TK is spiraling and needs a hand, and the ones where he’s composing his thoughts and processing his emotions.

There’s subtle differences between those silences, in TK’s demeanor and even engraved in his expressions. And Carlos has learned to tell the difference.

It wasn’t easy at first, his instinct to help TK and to be there for him overriding what he knew was true. Time had proven fruitful, though, and TK started to open up to Carlos more easily and more frequently. Of course, Carlos knew it was also thanks to their developing relationship and the trust built between them, but he also knew not pushing TK to talk had something to do with it, too.

So as TK runs his fingers through Carlos’s hair, gently massaging his scalp as he goes, Carlos knows TK is collecting his thoughts, figuring out his feelings, before talking to Carlos about it.

TK’s process happens in one of two ways, either he goes on a full rant, letting everything sink in as he speaks, usually while pacing back and forth or in moments like these, quiet moments, where it all happens inside his head and it’s those moments he needs something or someone to hold on to.

And Carlos trusts that TK will come to him when he’s ready.

“Wanna sleep, babe?” Carlos whispers.

“In a bit,” TK replies. “Just wanna stay like this for a little longer.”

Carlos nods as TK’s arm tightens around him and he wiggles against TK’s chest, getting more comfortable.

Carlos can tell TK also needs some more time for his mind to calm, for the racing thoughts to quiet down and he’s willing to stay like this for as long as TK needs.

“Thank you for this, ‘Los,” TK whispers, fingers still combing through Carlos’s curls, grounding them both.

“Always, baby.”

Eventually, TK’s heart rate starts to decrease, Carlos feeling the tranquility against his back and he knows TK will soon fall asleep.

“Come on,” Carlos says as he begins to shift, realizing how tired TK is at the lack of response from the paramedic at the officer’s movement.

TK nods and lets Carlos maneuver him, but he pauses, looking at TK.

“Okay if I take them off now?” Carlos asks, his tone a little teasing as he takes hold of his glasses.

TK nods. “I’d hate for them to break. But keep them close,” he winks.

Carlos chuckles, taking off his glasses and folding the handles, gently placing them on the nightstand near his phone.

Carlos switches off the light and the soft moonlight glow immediately shines into their bedroom. They shuffle in bed for a few moments before settling down, Carlos now holding TK, the gesture offering wordless comfort.

Carlos drapes his arm over TK’s middle, pulling him closer into his chest and then brushes a soft kiss to the side of TK’s neck.

“Get some rest, baby, we’ll deal with everything tomorrow,” Carlos murmurs.

TK lets out a content sigh and in the safety of Carlos’s hold, engulfed in Carlos’s scent and everything that is Carlos, he drifts off.

And wrapped in Carlos’s arms, TK is truly home.

(Carlos wearing eyeglasses was inspired by the photo Rafa posted on his Instagram story a while back!)

[lord-multifandom-murder]

Silence is golden (Fred Weasley x reader)

A/N: This came to me in a 'poof' moment.....and technically I haven't been writing Fred content so I guess I should make up for it.

Summary: You're quite a quiet person, and almost a wallflower. Little did anyone know, you were extremely mischievous underneath that quiet surface. Fred finds this out after your friends get bullied.

Warnings: I suppose none, per usual.

Requests are OPEN!!

Since you were extremely quiet, no one ever expected you to play pranks. They always suspected it was the twins, Fred and George Weasley.

The perfect cover.

Fred and George always thought it was strange. Weren't they the only troublemakers in Hogwarts? Or was there someone else who did it in the shadows?

To be honest, George was more laid-back on the matter, but Fred was more bothered by it. It could damage their reputation as pranksters. Seeing that it wasn't them, and that these pranks were rather way out of their league.

Interestingly enough, that person always left a mark. It was rather odd, because no one in their right mind would do that, except for this daring maverick. It was always the same thing, a drawing of an 'X' wherever the prank was set up.

They were well-thought of, and almost nothing was left by the person who did them. Well, little did anyone know, it was you. You were quiet, yes, which made it easier to do things since no one bothered you. Since you were silent half the time, no one really bothered to wonder what you were thinking about.

Now, except for Fred.

He had noticed you sitting underneath a tree in the courtyard, deep in thought. It wasn't strange to find you alone even though you had friends, but Fred being Fred, came over to bother you. Mainly because he wanted to ask you on a date, really.

No one ever would have thought he would've fallen for the silent bookworm, Y/N Y/L/N, who was so quiet sometimes if you were standing right behind someone, they wouldn't know until they turned around and jumped in fright.

Fred had witnessed some of those exchanges, really. And he thought they were actually very hilarious.

"Hello there, Y/N," he smiles. You look up to see him standing in front of you, casting a shadow over. "Hello, Fred. What're you doing alone on this fine day?" you ask, quirking your eyebrow.

Fred looked surprised that you knew it was him, because him and George were always easily mistaken for each other; it was sometimes good, and sometimes bad. You could tell it was him because little did he know, you were around him more often than he would notice.

Rather if it was a prank, or just sitting nearby him in the Great Hall, after making a few observations, you could roughly guess who was who most of the time, which got easier after a while. And technically because you had a secret crush on the extroverted redhead.

You smirked amusedly at his face. "Think, Weasley. I wondered why you haven't placed a finger on that 'quiet person' stereotype yet."

Fred chuckled and sat next to you, leaving a slight distance between you to be polite. "I was just wondering if you weren't like the other quiet kids I see around here."

You smile. "It's nice to see that you don't judge a book by it's cover Fred. I admire that about you."

Did I ever mention that you were rather blunt with your words?

Fred blushed slightly but didn't say anything. You smile and mirror his behaviour. "Say, could you help me with some Charms homework? I heard you're very good, considering I always hear Flitwick bragging about you in-between classes."

"Sure, d'you wanna go to the library? It's more quiet there so I can focus," you say, ready to stand up. Fred suddenly grabbed your arm and pulled you down. "Sorry, but uh....I'm actually busy at the moment but maybe we can meet tomorrow in the library? After lunch? I'm not in a hurry to turn this in."

"Okay then, after lunch," you repeat. Fred smiled and got up, brushing his trousers. "Well, it was nice talking to you Y/N, but I have an appointment with my dear twin brother."

"Bye, then. Oh, say hello to George for me!" you say with a playful smile.

"Don't worry, I won't forget!" he calls back, jogging off. You smile quietly even though you were screaming internally, and went back to thinking.

---------

The next day, you were walking to lunch with Neville and Ron. He was helping to tutor the both of you since you weren't doing very well at the subject.

You met with Harry and Hermione and they greeted you as you sat down. Hermione gave you a kind smile and started asking you a bit about what Neville taught you and Ron about. Neville eagerly entered the conversation as you ate and discussed about the proper way to manage a Fanged Geranium.

"What're you doing here, Longbottom? Shouldn't you be in the greenhouses playing with dirt?" a snide voice sounded. Hermione grimaced as Malfoy walked towards the Gryffindor table.

"Shove off, Malfoy. It's none of your business," Ron grumbled, stabbing his Shepherd's Pie rather violently.

"Manners, Weasley. Honestly, Longbottom. Why are you ever here? You can barely do magic. You're worse than that Mudblood Granger."

You stood up abruptly, turning around to glare at Malfoy.

"Oho, Y/L/N! What're you going to say? Share your thoughts! Oh wait, you can't because you barely talk!"

"That's enough, Malfoy!" Hermione snaps angrily. "Shut it, Granger. Go on, Y/L/N. Do you even know words?"

You sigh, and nod. But that's all you do. Malfoy tried to bother you again to say something, mocking your chosen silence. You huff and turn around again, holding a fork at him, surprising everyone. You motion for him to move back to his table.

Surprisingly, he complies and slouches away. Fred watches you with awe as you sit down calmly, as if nothing happened, with people gawking at you. "Silent, but deadly," he thinks to himself, as he watches Hermione scold you for brandishing a fork at Malfoy, while Harry and Ron were chuckling amongst themselves about how funny his face was.

As you made your way to the entrance of the Great Hall, you feel someone tap your shoulder. You look around to see Fred grinning. "That was pretty cool, what you did back there," he remarked. You smile. "Thanks, I've been meaning to do that for awhile."

Fred smiles again. "He's a right git. He deserved that."

"So I assume we're going to the library?" you ask, strolling out with Fred. "I see you remembered our little study date, eh?" he grins.

"I don't remember calling this a study date," you say, looking at him. Fred groaned inwardly. "I-I didn't mean-"

"Nevermind, it's fine. I dont mind if we thought of this as a study date," you say, trying to cover up your blunt mistake, feeling bad for making Fred nervous.

He shrugs. "It's fine," he says. "Let's go on our study date, then." he decides with a playful smile.

Once you reach the library, you bring him to your favourite place, which was a tiny secluded haven. Little did Fred know, you were there half the time when you were formulating a new prank.

You had your secret stash of books there, filled with all sorts of stuff. Strategies, inventions and ideas. But, Fred needn't know that. It's Charms he needs.

So, you sat next to him, Fred happily finding comfort in a squishy armchair he claimed just seconds ago. So, on went the lesson.

And on went your plan for revenge on Malfoy.

After helping him with most of his homework, you excused yourself and went to sit a little further away at a desk while he finished up his essay.

You pulled a book out and started to read. Fred looked up at you as you read and blushed, remembering how cute you were when you focused. "Mind finishing your work before you admire me?" you ask, not taking your eyes of your book.

Fred chuckled. "I'm finished," he says. You close your book and move towards him, taking his parchment and reading it through to check for any mistakes. "Well, it seems that we're finished here," you say, giving the paper back to him and going to your desk to keep your book.

Fred smiled and stood up. "Well, I'm glad that you decided to help me. I wouldn't have been able to even pass this up without your help!" he says, while zipping his bag.

"I'm glad that you came to me for help, actually. Not many people thought that I would want to, since I don't talk much," you say.

"But you've talked plenty before!" Fred exclaims.

"'Course I have. Only when people initiate the conversation first. And only if I want to talk to them."

"Then I consider myself lucky that you wanted to talk to me," Fred jokes, laughing with you. You smile quietly before Fred leaves, when you said that you had work of your own to finish before going back to your Common Room.

Work, that is, for a prank to pull on a certain blonde brat.

Fred walks back in a daze, with a stupid smile on his face. When he went into the boys' dorms and sat on his bed, he shoved his face in to the pillow and hugged it hard. George and Lee who were playing a round of Exploding Snap watched with smirks on their faces.

"I assume your little study date with Y/N went well?" George asked with raised eyebrows.

"Very well," Fred answered happily.

---------

That night, he couldn't sleep. It was silly, the fact that he had fallen so hard for you that he was kept awake just by the mere thought of you. Yet, he wasn't complaining.

He sighed and sat up. "Oh, what's the use?" he grumbles to himself. He stood up and padded quietly to the door. When he opened it and sneaked down the stairs, he decided to go and have a nice cup of hot chocolate.

While he was navigating through the corridors, he heard footsteps. Quick and light, he noticed a shadow darting in the neighbouring corridor. He hurried over, and his eyes widened in surprise to find someone he wasn't expecting to see late at night. That certain someone who kept him up for the same reason.

You.

You had a bag slung over your shoulder, walking as quietly as possible. Fred looked down and noticed you weren't wearing shoes at all. He then saw you hurry down a flight of stairs, and through a secret passage that he never knew existed.

He quickly followed you, wondering what you were up to. He then noticed that you were heading in the direction of the Great Hall. He followed you curiously, watching you sneak through the giant doors towards the Slytherin Table.

He followed after you, but then accidentally stubbed his toe on the bench leg, causing him to hiss out a curse. He saw you lift your head, and then hide under the table. He limped padded towards you and rapped the table.

Underneath, you were hyperventilating. Shit, you thought. I didn't see anyone!

But then you heard Fred's hushed voice. "Y/N, is that you?" he whispers urgently. You peek your head out from underneath the table and looked up to see a bewildered Fred peering down at you.

".....yea?" you ask timidly, not sure of what to say to him. This was a rather awkward exchange.

"What're you doing here? And why do you have a marker-wait....," Fred asked, suddenly realising something. "Were you the one playing all those pranks?" he asks, surprised.

"What if I am?" you defend. Fred looked under the table to see a little contraption sticking out from underneath. He takes note of a little red 'X' beneath the table. "So you are," he notes.

"Please don't tell anyone! I'm sorry!" you blurt out. "Sorry? For what? And why in Merlin's name would I tell anyone?" Fred asks.

"I'm sorry that everytime I play a prank I let the blame fall on you! I just thought it was fun, playing tricks secretly," you mumble.

"Hey, it's fine! So, you ARE that famous secret prankster! Me and George have been dying to find out who it was! Your pranks are ingenious!" Fred exclaims.

You blush. "Thanks," you say. "I guess it helps that you're quiet sometimes, no one bothers you much," you say.

Fred looks at you in awe. "And I thought that you couldn't get anymore amazing," he says. "What?" you ask, confused.

Oh well, it's now or never.

"Well, Y/N, I've liked you for a while now, and I was wondering if you.....wanted to go to Hogsmeade with me on the weekend?" he asks shyly.

You weren't expecting this.

"Sorry-I-you don't have to if you want, I just-," Fred stammered.

Suddenly, you jump on him and hug him tight. "You're serious?" you ask, your voice slightly muffled.

"Yes?" he answered uncertainly, looking down at you. He was then taken by surprise when you kissed him. It was rather quick, but when you broke apart, both of you were blushing.

"I'd love to," you whisper with a shy smile.

"W-wait, really?" Fred asks.

"Do I need to repeat myself?" you ask with a raised eyebrow.

"Y-yea, especially before you kissed me," he says.

"Idiot," you snort, leaning in again, but this time kissing him slowly, his arms slowly winding around you and savouring the moment.

"I'd love to," you repeat. Fred's face breaks into a wide grin and spins you around, causing you to shriek with laughter.

"Shhh! Aren't you supposed to stay quiet?" Fred snickers. "Blame the one who caused me to make the noise!" you shoot back.

Both of you laugh amongst yourselves before sneaking back to your dorms.

---------

"So you're telling me that Y/N is the person who's been pulling all those pranks?!" George exclaims at breakfast, after Fred regaled his night time wander with him.

"Yes! And don't tell anyone! If they ask, just say that we don't know," Fred hisses.

George raised his eyebrows. "Don't you dare, or I'll hex you into next week," Fred threatens, brandishing his wand at his twin.

"I get the message. No one's gonna believe me anyways," George says, before diving into his breakfast. Fred looks around to see you stroll into the hall and he waves you over excitedly. You smile and walk over.

"Morning, beautiful," Fred greets, kissing your cheek and surprising people nearby.

"Hold on......since when were you and Y/N dating?!" Ron asks.

"Since just now," Fred retaliates, sticking his tongue out at his younger brother. "Are your feet cold?" he whispers to you.

"No? Why would my feet be cold?" you question.

"You were walking around barefoot last night! Your pretty feet must've been freezing!"

"I had my reasons for not wearing anything," you say mysteriously. "Oh? Do tell," Fred says.

"Shoes make too much noise. It would attract attention easily, what's to say no one'll hear me clacking around in the middle of the night?"

"Unless you stub your toe on something, the pain's a bitch," Fred grumbles, still salty about stubbing his toe last night since he was just wearing socks.

You snort, but is quickly drowned out by a loud yell coming from the Slytherin Table.

Everyone turns around and roars with laughter when they see Malfoy head-to-toe in some Colour-Changing Ink.

Fred noticed that Malfoy was sitting in the same place where he found the little device. His point was proven when a Slytherin cried out, "Hey! There's an 'X' on the floor!"

He looks at you with a wide grin. "So THAT'S why you snuck out! You're lucky no one caught you!"

Fred watches you in awe as you ask Hermione to pass the marmalade calmly while everyone was howling with laughter at Malfoy.

You smirk, leaning over to say to him quietly, "Told you, Weasley. Silence is golden."

[mahizli]

Still Learning (There Is No Ignorance, There Is Knowledge)

Art by tallterror and second chapter of Threading The Way (Jedi June).

32 BBY.

“Thank you, Anakin.”

Master Ti’s voice was gentle, and Ani met her warm, brown eyes before he bowed, like Padawans were supposed to, like Obi-Wan had taught him at the very beginning of his stay here, almost a month ago.

“It’s okay.”

His voice sounded strange. Like there was not enough air in is lungs. And his heart was beating all fast, too. It felt like… like the day he had left Mum, and Ani did not want to go there in his head. Instead, he followed the other Initiates out of the door and into the corridor.

“Hello, Master Obi-Wan…”

It sounded like a song, all his fellow-Initiates greeting his Master who stood there, leaning against the corridor walls, waiting for him. But Ani didn’t join in, didn’t say a thing: he knew just how eager they were to catch a glimpse of him, the one who lost his Master, the one who killed a Sith and was training him, him whom Qui-Gon had called the Chosen One. They were still wary of him, and he had not made any real friend, save Senior Padawan Quinlan who was going to become a Knight very soon and was actually Obi-Wan’s friend. And Master Luminara and Master Kit, who were also Obi-Wan’s friends.

Ani loved spending time with Master Quinlan, because he knew Tatooine and understood things even Obi-Wan didn’t know. And he loved Master Luminara because she had been there, with him, when Obi-Wan had started bleeding from his nose, talking funny, and had fallen down in the training grounds. She and Master Quinlan had taken Obi-Wan to the Halls of Healing, and there, Master Vokara Che had told them the bond between him and Master Qui-Gon was still bleeding, because it had been broken and not closed, and because Obi-Wan had pushed everything tight behind his shields.

Master Che, Master Yoda and Master Billaba had brought Obi-Wan back into the Force and had closed the injury in Obi-Wan’s mind. And Master Quinlan, Master Luminara and Master Kit had tried to help him with the sadness inside, even though Obi-Wan was still missing Qui-Gon fiercely and would still go very silent whenever he was thinking of him.  

Ani watched his fellow-Initiates swarm through the corridor, and checked out his Master, because it had only been a week since Obi-Wan came back from the Halls, all thin and still somewhat shaky. A week since they had cleaned and tidied up Master Qui-Gon’s stuff, and Ani still had a hard time to believe how much steadier Obi-Wan felt in the Force now.

He was no longer pale, no longer looking like he would be gone any minute, vanishing like the images people saw when they got sun-sickness on Tatooine. Obi-Wan was better now, Ani could feel it through their bond, but he still grabbed the hem of Obi-Wan’s robe, just in case, rubbing his thumb against the rough fabric.

Hello there, Padawan.

Ani didn’t smile, because people were still around, and because he still felt weird from what he had just managed to do, during Master Ti’s class. But inside, it felt like something opening up, and when Obi-Wan started to walk them back to their quarters, Ani quietly slid his hand into his and squeezed.

“How was class, Anakin?”, Obi-Wan asked, once their doors slid shut.

Ani took off his boots, shrugging out of his bag.

“Okay, Master.”

Obi-Wan never asked many questions. He never pried, like some Initiates did. He just let it go, waiting for Ani to find him. And Ani wanted to tell him, about the way he had listened to him and accepted to tell Master Ti and the other Initiates about Tatooine, about why he hadn’t been taught to read and write, about the way slaves were forbidden to do some things and to enter some places.

But Ani also knew it would make Obi-Wan sad to talk about such stuff, and he didn’t want him to be sad anymore, he just wanted to hear him talk and marvel about the way he felt so smart and quick and witty through their bond.

And he never seemed to be bothered, when Anakin asked him questions, not even while he cooked, chopping off tubers, and cutting odd orange stuff that was called pumpkin to mix them together in some kind of soup that had a nice, sugary flower.

And so Ani got to know all about Obi-Wan’s day. About the subjects he was still studying, despite no longer being a Padawan, about the way he had trained with Master Luminara because they were both specialising in a form called Soresu. About the people in the Temple Obi-Wan had talked to, and that Ani still struggled to remember.

“I like that soup, Master. It’s nice.”

Obi-Wan smiled at him.

“It’s the nutmeg. I think you have a weak spot for spices, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan knew so many things. Ani didn’t have a clue what a nutmeg was, but Obi-Wan showed him the small, brown nut, and let him grind a bit of it into his soup – and it was delicious.

They talked some more, and then Ani was sent into the fresher to shower. He knew how to use the taps and the pressure now – it wasn’t complicated, actually, much less complicated than the ventilation system on the back of Watto’s shop, or the ignition of his old speeder. But Ani still tried to be quick, because it was no sonic – no carefully harvested water from a moisturizer, but water flowing like springs from the very faucets, and it still felt like such a waste.

Obi-Wan loved showers, though. He wasn’t long about it, but sometimes, Ani heard him hum quietly through the fresher’s door, and he always felt relaxed in the Force afterwards.  

That evening, Obi-Wan didn’t shower, though. He was sitting cross-legged on his bed, barefoot yet still wearing his leggings and tunics, and Ani crawled up next to him, looking at the green picture that hung across Obi-Wan’s desk. It was a landscape from Stewjon, Obi-Wan’s planet, and Obi-Wan had painted it some years ago, because his Master was very skilled at drawing, and had filled whole journals with his sketches.

“What are you doing, Master?”, he asked, his tooka-doll Spikes closely tucked to his chest.

Obi-Wan sighed, turning tired grey eyes towards him.

“I’m trying to make sense of an essay of a currently very famous yet completely unintelligible philosopher, Padawan.”

“Why?”

Ani lifted a very puzzled face towards his Master, and Obi-Wan smiled again, deftly carding his fingers through Ani’s loosened braid, undoing it before he started braiding it again for the night.

“Because he claims to be an expert about the topic I’m supposed to study, and write an essay about.”

“But why do they need you to write essays and to read boring stuff? You’re no Padawan anymore, Master. You’re one of the best Jedi ever – everybody keeps talking about you in the Temple.”

Obi-Wan’s eyes clouded for a moment, but when he lifted his face towards Anakin, his gaze was clear.

“Because the only thing I know, Padawan mine, is how little I do know and how much I have still to learn.”

Ani hung his head, letting Obi-Wan closing his braid, watching the way his Master’s knees melted with the rough fabric of the sheets.

“I know the feeling, Master”, he whispered.

I feel like that all the time.

Obi-Wan’s hand travelled from next to his cheek to his shoulder, and soon enough, Ani was pulled against his side, breathing in the smell of clean linen, of soap and Obi-Wan.

“I did it, Master. I told them. About the slaves, on Tatooine. About what it meant, to read ‘no slaves allowed’ or ‘keep out’. About the dangers out there. They didn’t ask any questions, though. I don’t think they understood much, anyway.”

Obi-Wan stayed silent, for a while, data-pad and reading forgotten.

“I am not sure one can truly understand, Padawan. I still struggle. And sometimes… sometimes I think about what you have been through, and I wish…”

His Master didn’t go on, words ending into something that was both a breath and a sigh. There was no need, though. Ani understood.

“But, Anakin… I think that the reason the Initiates stayed silent was… because they were in awe. Because they felt very ignorant, compared what you were forced to experience.”

Ani shrugged, face still buried into Obi-Wan’s side.

“I’m very proud of you, Padawan.”

Obi-Wan’s voice was even softer, and Ani wrapped his arms around his waist, wordlessly. For a while, he listened to the quiet way Obi-Wan was breathing, focusing on the way Obi-Wan’s belly was meeting his forearms, whenever he was drawing in air or letting out a sigh.

His Master had resumed reading, and it didn’t seem to make him happy, because there was a thin crease between his eyes Ani had learned to recognize. What was more, Valentine, Qui-Gon’s old plant, was hissing quietly on the windowsill, flowers turning an electric form of blue and getting all spiky. Ani closed his eyes and sent a soft Force-tendril towards her, trying to stop her hissing.

Nervous-Pointless-Anxious-Enough.

Valentine’s projections in the Force were always really helpful with Obi-Wan, and Anakin sent back Okay-Got It-Thank You-Calm Down.

“Master… I think you should stop reading. I don’t think that feel-low-something is worth it.”

Obi-Wan’s eyebrows shot up, and he turned towards Ani.

“He’s making your head ache. And I think… I think anybody who writes stuff that is so hard to understand that even you don’t manage it, well… it’s not someone who cares about sharing what he knows.”

“Anakin, I’m not the standard by whom you should… I don’t think you… It’s not supposed to be difficult, it’s just that I…”

“Master, I don’t know much. I know I don’t. But… But I know you’re so smart that every teacher here loves you. There’s not one who’s hasn’t spoken about you, and I’ve only been here four weeks. So… I don’t think you should read that stuff. I think you should stick to those who want to share what they know, not just… show off or something.”

Obi-Wan stared at him for some seconds, and then his Master did something very unexpected. Ani watched Obi-Wan’s shoulders start to shake in silent laughter, until it broke out of Obi-Wan’s very signature, in quiet bubbles of amusement.

“Oh, I think that fellow really wanted to show off…”, his Master sighed. “I’m not sure I read anything that dense for… I don’t know, probably ever?”

Anakin started to giggle as well, watching Obi-Wan close the data-pad, leaning against his headboard, still laughing quietly.

“It was… I kept reading the same page over and over, wondering what in the Galaxy was wrong with me – it felt like… it felt like… Oh Anakin, you are so right – it is some incomprehensible, self-satisfied babble, and it is positively useless!”

Obi-Wan sounded both amused and amazed by his own defiance, and though Ani had no clue about what his Master truly meant, he could feel how relieved and lighter he felt through their bond.

“I’m not going to read that”, Obi-Wan whispered, eyes growing somewhat wide, and Ani couldn’t help hugging him again, because he looked like the way Kitster did, whenever Ani convinced him to do something he was afraid of yet kept dreaming about.

“I’m going to… I’m going to focus on ignorance and knowledge instead. About the way they are sometimes mistaken for the other. There are very knowledgeable people out there who still manage to stay very ignorant, Padawan. And there are others who think themselves ignorant and who are so wise they make the world a better place.”

His Master’s hands rubbed gentle circles into his back, and Ani hugged him tighter, feeling his heart swell because of Obi-Wan’s words.

“That’s wizard, Master”, he whispered – and then he lowered his head back on Obi-Wan’s chest, because it was warm and comfortable there, and because his Master was the best Master ever.

And on the windowsill, Valentine curled on herself, flowers in the hue of a soft, tender green, projecting soft contentment into the Force – and turning still once more.

[spiltscribbles]

Here’s a prompt from the tag! “ Giving them your dessert when you eat out because it’s their favorite.” bc I have a feeling Remis would be the type to end up eating Sirius’ dessert instead of his bc he doesn’t know what to order but Sirius knows his taste dkfjsjaha

~Notes: Oh no baby! I read this wrong, thinking it was Person A ordering for them instead because Person B didn’t know what they wanted.... And well this came out-- I can totally write a different prompt though to match this one! Just LMK! <3 <3

.-

Send Me A Prompt  |  Reblogs are like the tastiest dessert!!

.-

Remus pads softly into his and Sirius’s room, a mug of steaming Darjeeling in hand and clad only in a his robe as he gazes longingly at the sleeping form of his partner for nearing on three years now. 

The early morning sun pans across the wide expanse of Sirius’s shoulders, and dips into the planes and valleys of his muscular torso and angular face. Lying there, with his dark hair fanning the pillow and the blanket slung lazily around his hips, he looks like some sort of fallen angel. Beautiful and remote and impossible to touch by sullied hands that aren’t half as sacred. It makes his heart thud an uneven staccato when he remembers that he’s his— Sirius chose Remus, Sirius loves Remus— Maybe even nearly as much as Remus has always loved him.

How remarkable of a revelation indeed.

Gingerly, Remus sets down his tea and crawls back into bed with Sirius, insides thrilling when the dark haired boy subconsciously snakes his arms around him and curves around Remus’s body like so many times before, so often that Remus reckons it’s become by rote, an ingrained response to whenever they’re in close proximity to one another.

With a quiet laugh, Remus stretches around, begins peppering Sirius’s chest and abs and the space surrounding his cock with tender kisses, slowly rousing him to wakening the way Sirius always appreciates after a night of patrols for the Auror’s academy. And as usual, it doesn’t take long at all for Sirius to begin moaning out appreciative sighs, thrusting languorously for the warmth of his mouth, making Remus chuckle as he tugs down his pants, and kisses the length of him, peering up to watch as Sirius’s gorgeous, gray eyes flutter open.

“Wh— Moony?” He says in a peculiarly squeaky voice that Remus can’t ever remember slipping out of his mouth. 

“Yes— Problem, Paddy?”

Another discontent, borderline terrified noise rumbles in his throat, and before Remus could even ask what’s got his boyfriend acting like he’s touched in the head, the door to their flat flings open none too gently, and it’s an irate looking James who storms into the bedroom— fists clenched and jaw set as he glares daggers into the face of his practical brother.

“You’re dead Potter!” Is all he shouts before madness ensues— Madness that’s James’s flying fists for Sirius’s face, Peter’s choked laughter flowing in from the other room, and a Lily who looks stuck between horrified and amused

And Remus is so fucking bewildered as he slides off of his boyfriend to avoid any untoward hits accidentally aimed his way.

“Lily?” he presses expectantly, but is totally unsurprised when all she replies with is a bout of uninhibited cackles.

.-

Fifteen minutes, a magically healed split lip, and a physically restrained pair of animagi later, finds the ragtag group of friends surrounding the kitchen Island while a terse James and enraged Sirius are explaining what had happened the previous night. Namely, them getting hexed by a sour faced old bint with a Guinness in hand, after Sirius had driven his motorbike through her rosebushes.

“You guys got bested by a drunk hag!” Peter guffaws for the third time in a singular minute, clutching at his stomach while his body wracks with a continuous stream of  laughter

“I will singe your bollocks off Wormtail,” Sirius seethes from Remus’s left— Except no, it’s not Sirius. It’s James, his best mate James who’s now inhabiting the body of his lover. And God how strange of a fucking turn of events. It’s seriously unnerving. He’s just standing their, all too familiar arms crossed against his chest and thick brows furrowed. And God, Remus really wishes he wouldn’t do that— worry on his bottom lip mid snarl. It’s such a quintessentially Sirius thing to do. a look Remus knows well. One that Remus would always coax away with a gentle kiss and a hand carding through his hair and— 

“Oof!”

He glances over to where Sirius— wearing James’s face— is glowering at him with pure irritation after having elbow checked him. “Eyes front and center Lupin!”

Remus flushes, glancing over at Lily since she out of everyone here could understand his plight. But of course she’s only snickering to herself in her cup of coffee, the trader. 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Just because ’s my body doesn’t mean you get to give another bloke the come hither eyes!” Sirius fumes, a sneer caught on his features that Remus never thought the face of the easy going James Potter could ever conjure. “Crikey, it’s plenty that you decided to give him a full on show already.”

“How was I to know this would happen!” Remus sputters the same time James defends that they even barely started, which of course made Peter fall over on his chair with pure delight and Lily walking over to the kettle so she can hide her own laughter.

“Lucky you,” Sirius snipes back, glaring darkly at James and snatching Remus’s hand to interlock with his— erm James’s?— own on his lap.

Remus is so totally fucked.

.-

Graciously, Professor McGonagall— who told the graduating Gryffindor  class of 78 to always reach out if they ever needed help with a strangely wet glint in her eyes— Replies to the pleading missive Remus had sent almost immediately, giving Remus the proper instructions to reverse the jinx and wishing him and Lily the best for the impending tribulations about to befall them.

“She’s totally loving this,” James mumbles moodily as Lily massages his head. And Merlin, is that a strange sight— Lily not only deigning to touch Sirius at all, but look at him sympathetically on top of that. Remus has to constantly remind himself of the body swap before his ridiculous envy begins carving at his insides when James only looks appreciatively back up at her, a gentle, open expression painted over his face that is ordinarily reserved for Remus and Remus alone.

“God this is weird,” Lily tells him, slowly inching away and sitting besides Remus instead. “I usually can’t stand even the sight of Black, and now I’ve got to treat him like the bloke I’m in love with.”

“That’s not what you said this morning Evans,” Sirius goads from Remus’s other end, suddenly reverting back to looking like the James of fifth year— when he was still too cocky for his own good and still didn’t understand how much it made Lily want to hex him to hell for it. “I actually think I recall a lot of back robs and straddling action this morning.”

Lily casts him a look that would absolutely scorch lesser beings, and Remus reasons that his own glower is emulating the same energy because Sirius quickly presses their foreheads together and squeezes Remus’s hand between both of his own in silent repentance. “I knocked her off once i realized it wasn’t you love.”

“Didn’t even bother to aim for the bed you absolute sod.”

“It was fight or flight while you had your grubby little hands all over me Evans!” Sirius airily sniffs.

“Oh I’ll show you grubby little hands!” Lily seethes, pouncing forwards right when Sirius hides behind Remus’s back.

“Children,” Remus intones, beyond over it. “Did you all not realize the massive problem with this little mishap.”

“You mean besides dealing with James’s pitiful little knob.” Sirius asks, faux owlish.

“You touch my knob Black and I swear to God I’ll shave off all your hair.” James snipes, which really isn’t all that fair considering how Sirius doesn’t even care about his perfect locks half as much as Remus does.

“Bloody hell! That’s brilliant!” Peter squawks from the loveseat, absolutely glowing. “James, you think you can get Moony’s name tattooed on his arse.”

James’s face goes sly, Remus’s favorite smirk toying the edges of his lips and his stormy eyes glinting with mirth that Remus only ever sees on his boyfriend’s face before a prank or while Remus is undressing in front of him. 

“What did I say about that look Moony!” Sirius shouts, scathing and skewering him with a look James only ever  employed as Head Boy  on the third year students stupid enough to get caught while trying to pull off a prank.

“Erm— Ahem.” Remus adjusts himself in his seat, not meeting anyone’s eyes. “Yes well, that is rather besides the point.”

“So what is the point, Rem,” Lily asks smugly, and Remus absolutely hates how much she’s enjoying this. She should be suffering just as much as him for the sake of Circe.

“Well didn’t you have that lunch date set up with your older sister and her husband for today?” Remus points out, a mutinous little part of him preening at how her face goes a sickly sort of pale at the reminder. Finally someone is as ill over this as he is.

“Oh bloody shite! You’re right! And Professor McGonagall said that this incantation can only be done at night, the same time as it was originally cast!”

“We’re not in school anymore Evans, you can just call her McGonagall. Or Minnie if you’re so inclined.”

“Shut the fuck up Black!” Lily shrieks, and Remus can’t help but unfavorably liken her to a banshee. “I promised Petunia that I’d see her before she leaves on holiday tomorrow! And she bloody hates Black!”

“nasty harpy.”

“What are we going to do!”

“Erm— Well maybe you can explain to her the switch up?” Peter offers, always meek in the face of Lily’s wrath.

“She already thinks I’m a freak for being a witch Peter! I can’t bring James looking like that and expect her to be fine with it!”

“Most people would consider James having upgraded,” Sirius argues.

“The tattoo will be bright pink I reckon,” James muses loudly to himself, pretending not to have heard Sirius. “A nice contrast to your pasty white arse don’t you think Padfoot?”

Sirius bares his teeth at him and Remus feels an impending migraine while Lily continues to lament the idiocy of their boyfriends.

.-

Remus idly contemplates how normal his life could’ve been if he had fought harder with the sorting hat to be placed into Ravenclaw. It would be a much less wonderful existence, to be sure, but it’d be so blessedly normal. Remus would probably have gone steady with that Hufflepuff prefect, Andre, and they would probably still be together. And Andre didn’t have a best friend who he got into insane and improbable situations with, so Remus definitely wouldn’t have been forced to do this. To be forced to go to lunch with his best friend’s wizard hating sister and her pug faced husband and not look longingly over the table at the face of his other best friend where the love of his life is inhabiting his body.

Jesus, is Remus’s life confusing as fuck.

“I need to take a pis— Oof, I mean. I have to use the gents,” Sirius declares as everyone’s entrees are being served, giving a pointed glance to Remus. And he supposes he should talk to him about that, how incredibly obvious Sirius can be when he’s flustered and isn’t trying to show it.

Five minutes after his boyfriend, Remus leaves to meet him in the first open stall, finally feeling less wrong footed for the first time today when Sirius takes him into his unfamiliar arms.

“I’m going to stab my eyes out with a fork Moony!” He hisses, and it’s odd how alien his face— James’s face— is to him. How Remus has never spent the time to memorize the precise slope of his nose, or the shape to his lips. How Remus can’t understand what it means when he squints his left eye or when he flares his nostrils with a slight curl to his mouth. But Remus does recognize the way Sirius has always grabbed his hips in that desperate way when he’s fed up, and how he always presses his nose to the curls behind Remus’s ear when he needs to be grounded. And it’s a bit awkward now that they’re the same height instead of Sirius needing to stoop slightly, and how Sirius now smells like that pricy cologne that James has always sprits with gusto. But it’s familiar enough to make Remus’s shoulders relax from the tension sown through them all day, and breathe out with relief with how the pair of them still understand one another with an innate sort of knowing.

Gingerly, Remus wraps his arms around Sirius’s now less defined torso, and they stand their, tangled into one another amidst the hush settling over  them.

“Oi! You berks!” James hisses from the doorway all too soon, clambering inside and stomping his feet. “I swear to Merlin if you pricks are fucking inside there!”

“Don’t worry Jamie, I’d never put my Moons through the indignity of dealing with that after he’s had me,” Sirius jeers, preening when James replies by throwing something hard against the doorway.

“C’mon you idiot,” Remus sighs, tugging on a lowly chuckling Sirius as they meet James by the exit of the loo.

“I’ve had three different birds sliding their numbers into my trousers on my way here alone,” James complains, shuffling foot to foot and looking more awkward than Sirius ever has. “It’s obscene.”

“It’s the life of the beautiful,” Sirius corrects as Remus swaths his hand away from his arse. 

“I’d rather not have Petunia getting a heart attack when she sees her sister’s boyfriend copping a feel of another bloke,” he chides before looping his arm through James’s and begins strolling back to the table.

.-

The rest of the lunch is thankfully uneventful, but as stilted as expected, filled with Sirius needing to be kicked in the shin every time he starts gazing absentmindedly at Remus, and Lily flickering her eyes over to James disappointedly while he pouts at her with Sirius’s best puppy dog eyes. And Every time Petunia starts eyeing them all as if they’re all fucking each other behind the scenes, Remus clumsily changes the topic to the weather or how lovely her engagement ring is or asking Vernon about bloody drills— Even if all he wants to do is reach across the table and hold Sirius’s hand.

But thankfully, it all seems to be going along decently enough— That is until the waiter comes around to take their orders and spends a little too long leering at Remus, asking if he’d like a cinnamon roll on the house.

“He’d like a slice of the chocolate fudge cake and he has a boyfriend that probably wouldn’t appreciate the extra service.” Sirius growls out, specs gone askew and dark knuckles paling from where he’s clutching his spoon vindictively.

The waiter only smiles at him, shrugging in that what can you do kind of way before dashing off to place the orders in with the kitchen.

“Hmm,” Petunia levels him with a glance, unimpressed looking. “So James.”

It takes a beat too long for Sirius to respond and Remus silently curses his every damn star. 

“Erm, yes Petunia.”

“How long have you been fucking my sister’s friend behind her back?”

Lily goes shellshocked and James looks ill while Remus sinks lower in his seat, trying to force Sirius to get it together through his eye contact alone.

“Hah— Wow, you’ve been watching those silly Muggle dramas have you Petunia.” Sirius says in a mangled tone of voice, but of course that’s the precise wrong thing to have said.

With matching red faces and spluttering words of indignation— a few curses thrown in for good measure— Petunia and her husband rise from their seats and make a hasty retreat to their car towards the back of the building.

“Oh Christ,” Lily groans, jumping up to sprint after them— but not without swinging a perfectly aimed cuff to the back of Sirius’s porcupine head. “I’ll hex you once you’re out of my boyfriend’s sodding body Black!”

“I understand Evans!” He calls after her before swinging his head over to James and Remus with a mischievous grin. “We tried didn’t we?”

“You just couldn’t keep your bloody jealous  temper in check,” James scolds with no real heat.

“Oi! And what about you lusting over Lily so blatantly you tosser! It was revolting.”

“Yeah, well maybe you’ll remember that next time you’re gazing at Moony’s arse out in public you mongrel.”

Exhausted, Remus just rises and tells them to stay behind and make sure Lily’s alright. “I need a bath and some quiet.”

“Can I join,” Sirius pouts. “I miss you.”

“Only once you’re my  Sirius again,” Remus instructs, brooking no arguments before he finds a safe place to apparate, telling himself that he deserves an entire bottle of that cheap merlot they bought last weekend.

[2manyfandoms2count]

A blog request from the @mlwritersguild ! Hope Anon sees it and likes it. It was a great prompt to write!

Warning: 75% of this hurts a lot, although nothing's graphic. I was feeling very angsty when I wrote it (and now I cry when I hear OneRepublic's Wherever I go). Happy ending, though!

---

Disappearing Act (AO3)

The magical ladybugs engulf Paris in their tornado and rubble falls back into place in puffs of dust, clearing the streets. Ladybug runs, tracing back her footsteps, until she finds what, or rather who, she is looking for, standing alone in the middle of the road, looking slightly disoriented.

“Chat Noir!” she yells as she picks her pace up to a sprint, hurling herself at the black-clad teenager in front of her.

Her voice has him turning towards her, and he barely has time to process the red and back bullet coming at him at full speed. His eyes widen and he manages to catch her in his arms without them both falling over. He feels her crying against his shoulder, and his arms instantly tighten around her.

“Shh, my Lady, it’s okay, I’m here,” he whispers soothingly as he strokes her hair.

Her head is buried against his chest, her body shakes with sobs, but her hands are balled into fists, striking his shoulders. Her punches are slow, void from the strength he knows she’s capable of, and he knows she doesn’t mean it.

He knows he’d deserve every one of them, though. His heart is still beating too fast from his jump to protect her earlier. He hadn’t even thought about it, his legs carrying him until the blast hit him straight in the chest. Everything had turned black.

Ladybug pulls away and looks up at him with tear- and anger-filled eyes, and he can’t help but think how beautiful she looks. He wipes a runaway tear from her cheek and tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, smiling tenderly at her. Oh, the things he’d do for her.

“You have to stop doing that! I thought I’d lost you,” she says through gritted teeth.

He knows it’s to keep more tears at bay.

“I’m sorry, Bugaboo.” He means it. “I pawmise I won’t do it again.” He doesn’t.

A loud crash a couple of streets away and her earrings' insistent beeps bring back their focus to the matter at hand. The Akuma is still running around, and Ladybug’s first Miraculous cure may have brought Chat Noir back, but not so much time. Ladybug wipes her eyes, takes a shaky breath, and stands taller. She doesn’t make a move to leave, though.

“I’ll hold them off, you go restore. I’ll see you later?” He picks her hand up, winks, and his lips gently brush her knuckles (the gesture is imprinted in her brain, she’s replayed it so much), like everything is going to be okay. He runs off, turning around one last time before he turns a corner, to flash her a confident smile.

Everything isn’t okay, though. Later finds the Akuma defeated, the Miraculous cure cast again, yet Ladybug is collapsed on the floor, clutching a lone, silver ring, at the exact spot where Chat Noir had stood a mere moment before.

As she screams into the void, she barely registers the rain that starts pouring down in a thick curtain, mingling with her tears, and part of her wonders if they will ever cease from flowing.

---

Minutes. Hours. Days. Weeks.

Time passed so slowly, yet so fast. Chat Noir wasn’t the only one who didn’t come home on that fateful day. Or the next. Or the one after that.

There’s an empty space in class, right in front of Marinette, and although it could be a coincidence, she knows deep inside that it’s not.

Alya is supportive, and so is the rest of the class, but they don’t, can’t understand the extent of her despair. Nobody can, after all.

The other disappearing act is pulled by the one and only Hawkmoth. She’s surprised, yet relieved, yet furious not to see purple butterflies around anymore. Has the man suddenly grown some morals? Does he draw a line at murdering a teenager?

Because there’s no other word for it, and she knows he knows it, as she fiddles with the ring that now sits on a piece of yarn around her neck. It’s long enough that no one can see it, but she knows it’s there nonetheless, and the cold metal against her skin soothes her. As she holds it in her darkest hours, she can feel Chat Noir’s presence, and she knows his probable disapproval is the only thing keeping her from going on a rampage to find Hawkmoth and make him pay for his actions.

Instead, she does the thing her partner would approve of; she gets dressed in all black, and finds her way to the Agreste Mansion. Nathalie hugs her like she needs it just as much as Marinette does, and the teenager understands from the little she says that Gabriel finally realised how much his son meant to him. Marinette gives her a bitter smile at the news. If only it could bring him back.

A month goes by. Ladybug stops patrolling. It’s too painful to sit at the top of the Eiffel Tower, alone. To get flashbacks of all the battles they fought together anytime she lets her stare linger a little too long anywhere. To walk on rooftops knowing he’s not going to hop at her side at any minute. To feel her heart beat faster every time she sees a flash of black out of the corner of her eye. To feel the pain that invades her chest when she realises it was just a shadow.

More time passes. Mayor Bourgeois issues a communication out for her. A statue in honour of the fallen hero is to be unveiled at the Tuileries. He hopes she will be there, and possibly give a speech.

The day comes, and she hadn’t planned on speaking. She’d tried to imagine what she could say, but everything was too painful, and she couldn’t find the words, nothing felt worthy of him. Seeing so many people turn up, though, some she recognises, a majority she doesn’t, all united in their grief for one person, her person, makes her find her way to the microphone.

She sees the hope in their eyes. She opens her mouth. Closes it. Feels the sting of tears.

She turns around to regain her composure, and is faced with the statue. She hasn’t looked at it properly yet; she couldn’t bear to.

There is Chat Noir, standing in all his glory, wearing a confident grin and seemingly ready to jump into action. She wishes he would.

Behind him, Adrien sits cross-legged, a hopeful smile on his lips as he looks up towards the skies. She can almost hear him singing. She wishes she could.

Taking a shaky breath, she turns around to face the crowd.

“I don’t know where to start with Chat Noir. He infuriated me, so much. He was reckless, which got him in the end. But he was also a great partner. The absolute best. He was kind, caring, and so, so lucid. I… I loved him for it. He didn’t hesitate in the face of danger. A month, twenty three days and a couple of hours ago, he sacrificed himself. He did it for Paris. For us. May this statue be a reminder of him and what he stood for. Faith in Good. Selflessness. Justice.” She takes a deep breath before continuing. “I learned at the same time as you did that Chat Noir was Adrien Agreste. I’ve had time to think about it, and it makes sense that there weren’t two people as amazing as they were, that they were the same purr-son.” She tries to chuckle, but more tears spill out. She knows he’d like it, though. “He juggled his career, school, and a mask. Let him be an inspiration to us all; never back down from anything you’re passionate about, if it can make you happy. You might be afraid of launching yourself, but eventually you’ll just feel freer. That’s what being Chat Noir brought Adrien: freedom. And rest assured that I’ll still be there to make sure the freedom of this city remains. I’ll be there if Hawkmoth ressurfaces, or if Paris needs me in any other way. Even though it’s hard to imagine how I can go on without Chat Noir by my side, I know it’s what he would have wanted. And I know he’ll be with us in spirit, too.”

She chokes on her tears and has to yoyo herself out to avoid her tear-stained face to be on the front page of every magazine the next day, and to escape the question that’s on every reporter’s lips; will Chat Noir be replaced?

She doesn’t understand how people can even think about it.

---

Marinette waits until the dead of the night to make her way back to the statue. She brings flowers, this time. A red rose, which she tucks in Chat Noir’s hand. A peach rose bouquet for Adrien’s lap. Hyacinths and forget-me-nots, which she deposits between them both, amongst the multitude of flowers that cover the base of the statue.

Sorrow, regret, but also love, gratitude and memory. She wishes she could do more.

It’s late, she has school in the morning, but she can’t bring herself to leave. She walks around the statue a couple of times, tries to dislodge a black cat that has elected Adrien’s lap as his sleeping pad, before sitting on a park bench, facing them, facing him.

You promised you wouldn’t do it again. Her stare silently accuses him.

I know, my Lady. She knows him well enough to know exactly what he’d say.

You left me all alone.

I’m so sorry. She wishes the statue would come alive, and he’d come and hug her. It doesn’t, of course.

Whatever happened to you and me against the rest of the world?

There wouldn’t be any of that without you either, would there? She can almost see his sad smile.

Paris needs you.

They need Ladybug more. He’d counter.

I need you. A tear rolls silently down her cheek, just as many have before it. It hovers at the edge of her jaw before collapsing on her thigh. I can’t believe I never told you, I should’ve said it out loud every day, at every occasion. I love you Chaton, Adrien, the name doesn’t matter. And now you’re gone, and you’ll never know. More tears spill out. She brings her knees against her chest, wrapping her arms around them and buries her face in them.

“Hello, m’lady.” She looks up at the sound of the soothing voice. Her vision is blurry with tears, and she knows it’s just a trick of her imagination before she even sees that the scenery hasn’t changed, apart from the light breeze that picked up, taking a couple of fallen leaves in its stride, but she can’t help it. Whatever happens, however much it hurts, she’ll always look, always hope. She shakes her head, pressing her forehead against her knees, and takes a deep breath.

It’s getting late. She should probably get going. A sleepless mind (not that she gets a lot of rest anyway, but every minute counts) will only play further tricks on her, and she doesn’t need that.

“That was some speech you gave.”

Her head snaps up, and this time, she wipes her tears.

She might be sleep-deprived enough to hear the things she wants in the wind, but this is too real. She wasn’t expecting it, either.

The night is still. The cat has lazily lifted its head from its paws, and for a second she wonders if it spoke to her, but it’s not facing her, and this is real life. Cats don’t talk. Right?

She pinches herself. Maybe she fell asleep on the bench.

“You know how much I love it when you speak passionately.” There’s a tender smile in the voice now. She remembers it so vividly.

A figure steps out from the shadow of the statue, almost sheepishly. The teen doesn’t look at her directly, so she doesn’t recognise him at first. His dishevelled black hair, leather jacket and ripped jeans are unfamiliar.

Then his green eyes meet hers, and she’s home.

“Y-you,” she stammers, trying to stand up, but she feels her knees buckle under her.

He’s at her side immediately, catching her in her fall and helping her sit back down.

“I’m sorry for showing up like this,” he says while she touches his face, making sure that she isn’t dreaming, that he’s okay, that he’s alive.

She answers by hugging him like her life depends on it (and maybe it does), feeling her tears make a comeback. He rubs soothing circles on her back. It’s exactly what she needs, what she’s been craving for the past months. He’s here.

“Why?” she croaks against his chest. The question is cut short by a sob, but he understands all of its layers nonetheless.

Why did you leave? Why did you leave me? Why did you pretend to be dead? Why did you not let me know? What you were planning, then that you were okay? Why are you back?

“I… I overheard something. Not then, but during a previous Akuma attack. Hawkmoth asked his minion to spare me. Adrien Agreste. The Akuma was confused, and asked him to confirm. I couldn’t make sense of it at first, but the more I thought about it, the clearer it became that Hawkmoth had to be someone close to me, or to my father.” Marinette feels his body tense and holds him tighter. She’s not letting go of him anytime soon. “And then that day, when I saw what the rays did… I had to seize the opportunity. If I could just… disappear, lay low for a while, then maybe…” he trails off.

“Maybe you could get to the bottom of it.” Marinette sniffles. “I get it. But were you safe? It’s been months, Adrien. Where did you go?” She withdraws a little from his arms to look up at him with worry-filled eyes.

He seems taken aback by her questions. “You’re not going to ask me about what I found?”

“Adrien, I’ve just found out that the person I love most in the world, the person I thought I’d never see again but by looking at this damn statue,” she points towards it, but her eyes stay locked on his, angry tears gathering in her eyes, “is alive, I need to know you’re not about to collapse or disappear all over again. I couldn’t-” Her voice catches.

“I know.” He interrupts, cupping her cheek tenderly. “You’ve been so strong, my Lady. I promise you, I’m fine. I had some cash saved up, it paid for a small half-board hotel in the 20th Arrondissement, no questions asked, my makeover, and of course, my stalking.” His thumb stills on her cheekbone as he processes her words. “But wait, did you just say that you love me?”

A month ago, Marinette would have blushed and stammered in response. Today, her response is unwavering.

She grabs him by the collar of his jacket and their lips crash together. It occurs to Adrien that this is his first kiss with Marinette, Ladybug, he’ll hopefully remember. He makes sure to commit every last detail to memory.

It tastes like tears (hers, at first, and then, theirs - they’re all happy, though). Desperation. Disbelief. Thankfulness. Love. He hopes she feels it from him, too.

He takes it all in. Her chapped lips. The way she’s pulling him closer, clinging to him to keep him close, as if he’d ever run away from this. How soft her hair is under his fingers.

Nobody’s ever going to take it away from him.

When Marinette breaks off, leaving both of them panting, Adrien is awestruck. He knows it’s too soon to joke about being able to die happy, but the thought is there.

“So…” Marinette’s hands untangle from his hair to rest on his chest. “Now that my feelings for you are elucidated, and that I’ve established that you seem to be fine, how about you tell me if your disappearing act was at least worth it?” She sniffles a little.

“Marinette, I’ve just had the lights kissed out of me by the girl I love, and you expect me to be able to make a coherent sentence?” He nudges her nose with his.

“I just need to know you’re not going to disappear on me again,” she whispers.

“I purr-omise, my Lady,” he replies earnestly. “Never going to run around and desert you ever again. Not if I can help it.”

“Shut up.” She lets out a small giggle, her first in ages, and punches his shoulder lightly. A pun and a questionable reference. Her kitty’s back alright. “As if that wasn’t a coherent sentence.”

“Maybe the sentence was, but you’ll have to admit the thought wasn’t.” His smile vanishes as he looks around them. “Seriously, though. I’m not sure we should talk about it here.”

“Fine.” She gives him a small smile, and kisses his nose. “You’ll tell me when you’re ready, and we’ll deal with it.”

“You and me against the world.” He smiles.

“Forever.”

She buries herself in his arms once more, and they stay on the park bench until their heads start drooping. Even as they leave, she can’t bring herself to let go of his hand, and it doesn't take a lot of convincing for him to go home with her.

There’s no way she’s letting him out of her sight again. Not if she can help it.

[jj-bxby]

if the world was ending ~ jj maybank song fic ✨100 special✨

summary - song fic inspired by ‘if the world was ending’ by jp saxe and julia michaels

gif by @toesure

word count - 4.0k

warnings - mentions of abuse and anxiety, angst!!, fluff

It was impossible to sleep. Hurricane Maggie was the biggest that Kildare had seen in years, and it was horrifying. Looking at your boarded-up windows, you passed a hand through your hair anxiously. You turned your focus back to the flashing television with warnings in bright colors filling the entirety of the display. Exhaling shakily, you turned on your phone. No new messages were shown and the screen soon flashed its “No Signal” warning. Shit.

It had been months since you and JJ decided to break up, and ever since you two had been slowly drifting apart. Even though your separation was technically mutual, it wasn’t. Breaking up with the boy was the last thing you wanted to do, but he thought it was best for both of you. After a year of being together, he still had a difficult time telling you about the mottled bruises on his body that you knew weren’t from biking accidents, about the nightmares he’d have that woke him up at night, about the way he would flinch when you moved too quickly. After hours of tear-filled argument with JJ, you two spent your last night in the same bed, and he was out of your house the next day. Despite still being friendly with the pogues, you didn’t show up to their parties or lake days as much. Seeing JJ flirt with other girls, even if it was 50 yards away from you, still felt like a knife in your heart. And him locking eyes with you during it was just twisting the knife.

JJ wasn’t your JJ anymore. And you weren’t his Y/N. Even though you hadn’t spoken in weeks, you couldn’t think of anything but him when the sirens began blaring. JJ loved to surf the amazing waves that hurricanes would create, and you doubted that Maggie’s waves would be any different. It made your breath catch in your throat when you thought of him out drinking alone, him surfing the hurricane, or, God forbid, him being stuck in his house for the duration of the storm. You felt tears prick at your eyes, knowing that he didn’t have any reason to tell you where he was or that he was safe anymore. Everyone knew Maggie would do damage, especially on The Cut, and your home was right in the danger zone. You could have stayed at Kiara’s place, but you wouldn’t have felt any safer there than you would have at home, alone. Honestly, you couldn’t care less about what happened to your house. It was a house, it can be fixed up or replaced. You laid back down on your bed, closing your eyes as all of the most dangerous scenarios your brain could conjure up flashed behind your eyes. JJ being sucked under by the surge, your home collapsing on you, JJ caught in the exposed wiring, everything scared you. You had no right to him anymore. But goddamnit, the entire fucking island was in panic mode, why couldn’t he just tell you that he was okay? Tears spilled down your cheeks as you maneuvered to settle your body under the covers, the sound of rain pelting against all sides of your home echoing through the room. You could hear one of your windows shatter, and you shut your eyes tightly. You were trying to picture being anywhere else, and what you pictured was JJ’s arms around you, holding you tightly against him while he set his head on your shoulder. It felt shameful to think of JJ as your safe haven when you hadn’t been in his arms in months, but it was the only thing calming you enough to steady your breathing as you choked back sobs.

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, JJ still held your heart fully in his hands. And right now, he was squeezing it tighter and tighter, the hole in your chest growing larger by the minute. You had thought that whatever tether attached you to him would be cut once he left you that day, but it just kept pulling. It was tighter than ever now, and the feeling of it pulling your soul from your body grew stronger the longer you stayed away from him, and it was cruel. The feeling made the whole of your body ache — Your head hurt, your chest felt tight, your legs were weak, and your arms were vacant and they pulsed with pain. It was unbearable.

The throbbing in your head worsened as something was flung against your front door. You sat up as the noise came again, even though it startled you, you knew it was likely a tree that fell. You got up to pad down the hall to your open kitchen as sleep evaded you. Trying to flick the lights on was no use, there was no power. Sighing, you grabbed a bottle of water from the counter and cracked it open. There was no alcohol in your house, as much as you truly wanted some right now. You’d given up drinking after splitting with JJ. It would have been to easy to swallow down all of the hurt, and not feeling it would have only been worse. As you walked to your couch to grab a blanket, your door swung open. JJ was standing there, sopping wet. You could see that a mixture of tears and rain stained his cheeks, his red and swollen eyes giving him away.

“Y/N,” JJ whispered, shutting the door behind him. His blue eyes contrasted the redness starkly, and they pierced through me. “I don’t… I was gonna surf the hurricane but I know you would’ve never forgiven me,” he laughed bitterly, shaking his head. “And I just — I sat in my room and the only thing I could think of was if you were alone. I know you aren’t mine anymore, I know I fucked that up. But I couldn’t stand thinking of you staying here alone.”

You didn’t know what to say. You’d been wanting him back for six months, and now he shows up at your doorstep at two in the morning. In the middle of a hurricane. Dripping wet. You didn’t say anything, you just walked towards him and wrapped your arms around his waist, holding him against you while you buried your head in his chest. You half expected him to push you off of him, but instead, he rested his chin on the top of your head before dropping it down to your shoulders. His arms quickly looped around you to hold you just as tightly while hot tears rolled down his face.

“God, I’m so sorry, Y/N.” He said, in between his hiccups and sobs. He wasn’t drunk for once. He was just so tired of fucking up, and he couldn’t handle it anymore.

You’d never seen him like this. He never let you. But now, JJ was breaking down in your arms, and he was trusting you fully. You were the one holding his heart, and he didn’t want it back.

“Shh, J. You’re alright.” You told him, fighting back the tears that welled in your eyes. You pulled back from him just enough to look at his face. “You’re gonna be freezing if you stay in these clothes. You need a shower and something dry to wear, okay?” He nodded sluggishly. “Here, come with me.”

You led JJ to your room and had him wait as you dug around in your closet to find the box of clothes JJ had kept at your place for the nights he stayed over. You debated tossing them out when you found them a couple of weeks after he left, but couldn’t bring yourself to part with them. Instead, you would find yourself digging out his Kildare sweatshirt to wear when you missed him, and his gym shorts to sleep in when it was one of your sleepless nights. Eventually, the clothes lost his scent and stopped being something consolatory. Instead, they became a source of resentment, but no matter how many times you tried to convince yourself to throw them out, they always wound up right back in the corner of your closet. You walked out with the bin, placing it on the bed and rifling through it to find something warm for him, finally settling on sweatpants and a worn Kildare tee.

“I can’t believe you kept those. I always figured you would have burned them or something,” JJ mumbled as he walked up beside you.

“I thought about it,” you said plainly. “I was gonna have ‘Somebody That I Used To Know’ playing and everything.” JJ smiled slightly, knowing you were still half-serious. You tilted your head to look at him and sighed. His cheeks were flushed and his eyes red-rimmed and puffy, and he definitely smelled like malt. You sighed because you knew exactly how little you could trust him in the shower while drunk. Usually, after keggers, you and your boyfriend would shower together so that you could keep an eye on him, as you were usually the soberest between the two of you. You’d wash him as you dodged his kisses, giggling at how lovey he was. JJ had fallen before, the dumbass, so you didn’t want him in there alone, but being alone with him was also the last thing you wanted.

“JJ?” He hummed slightly, swaying. “You aren’t sober enough to shower by yourself are you?”

JJ’s eyes widened at you and his cheeks heated up. He shook his head, knowing damn well that he would fail a sobriety test before it even started. “I mean, I could probably do it or just go without—”

“Nope, you’re swaying just standing here, and you smell like a distillery, J. C’mon.” You start off to your bathroom while JJ trails closely behind. Once you’re in, you turn on the showerhead to let it warm up. You turn around to find JJ with his shirt already off and grabbing a towel from your cupboard, handing you one. “What’s this for?”

He looks at his outstretched arm with confusion. “Shower. We’re gonna shower, right?” He says to you, tilting his head. Goddamnit, he always was a cute drunk.

“J, you’re gonna shower, I’m gonna stay out here.”

“Oh. That’s right.” He sets your towel down on the ceramic of the sink. “So, like... are you gonna let me get undressed now?” You smiled to yourself at how flustered JJ was, and you knew it wasn’t just the booze in his system.

“We dated for a year, JJ, I’ve seen you naked plenty of times,” you say as you hopped up on the sink, dangling your legs off of the edge. You crossed your arms over your chest as the blonde nodded to you before he stripped down to only his boxers. As he walked to check the temperature of the shower you saw the bruises and scars that littered his back, sides, and chest, and you winced. He looked back at you, noticing the look on your face.

“Not used to seeing them anymore, I guess, huh?” He asked quietly. You shook your head at him, tearing your gaze away from the bruises to meet his eyes. “You sure you don’t wanna join me?”

You gulped, shifting your eyes off of him. Honestly, a large part of you wanted to follow him in there and have it be like it was months ago. The other part of you, though, still hurt just thinking of him and burned with rage at the thought of acting as though nothing had happened. “Don’t tempt me, Maybank,” you said quietly while averting your gaze. He nodded softly and pulled off his boxers before stepping in to take his shower. Setting your head in your hands, you exhaled harshly. You were trying to puff out all of your confusion and hurt, and inhaled confidence.

Before you realized what you were doing, you had stripped down to nothing and stepped inside of your shower to join JJ, making him jump slightly when he heard the curtains being pulled.

“Y/N you don’t have to do this, okay? What the hell are you doing?”

“Just let me be here with you JJ, alright? Just let me be happy for a minute. You at least owe me that,” you murmured, pushing his damp hair away from his eyes. The boy nodded at you, his eyes shining brightly as always.

“I owe you way more than that, actually.” You stared at him for a moment, taking in the sight you’d been dreaming of for the past hundred-and-some days. Once your eyes trailed back to meet JJ’s, you turned around to grab the soaps you kept on the shower shelf. Opening one up, you tell JJ to give him your hands before you pour some of the suds into his open palms.

“They haven’t changed since I left,” he says while lathering the soap on to himself. JJ would always use your shampoos and body washes when he stayed over, liking the sweet scent of your soaps rather than the sandalwood option you had purchased for him. You did get rid of that soap, it was about the only thing of his you could bring yourself to throw out. Probably because it wasn’t really his.

You nodded, also scrubbing some of the soap into your hair. He reached out to wipe away some of the suds that were making their way towards your eyes, and it made you grin. JJ dipped his head under the stream of water to wash away the bubbles in his hair before shaking it out. You two did a little swap of places so that you were able to do the same, rinsing the shampoo out before working conditioner into your hair, and twisting it up into a bun. Turning your head to look for the body wash, you see JJ has already grabbed it and poured some out onto a washcloth. He had that damned boyish look in his eye that he always used to have when the two of you were alone together.

Stepping behind you, JJ murmurs into your ear. “I know I owe you for a lot of shit things I did, but can I start with this?” He slid the soapy rag over your stomach, resting it there to wait for your response.

Your head was spinning, and you felt like you were the intoxicated one now. Without thinking, you nodded your head, relaxing your muscles as JJ smoothly moved the rag along the curves of your body. You rested your back against his chest lightly, enjoying the familiar feeling. You could feel JJ’s warm breath against your neck as he washed you, and the realization that this was the most intimate feeling you’d had in months slowly sunk in. You turned your head to look at JJ — He had his lip tucked between his teeth as his eyes shifted to your own. He knew that lip thing was always a turn on for you, even though he wasn’t doing it intentionally this time.

“You okay with this?” He asked with worried eyes, taking his hands off of you.

“Yes, yeah, I’m okay, J. I just missed this,” you sighed, passing a hand over your face. “I missed this more than I thought I did.” You looked away from him, wishing he didn’t move his hands away. “Look, I just don’t want to do this shit and then get hurt again, JJ. You know I loved you, I know you loved me, so why did you leave?”

“Y/N,” he said softly, tilting your head up to look at him. “You’re right, I loved you. I still do. But when I broke up with you, I did it because I was scared. I was scared I’d turn into my father, scared that I didn’t deserve you, scared I’d try and hide things from you like I do with my father,” JJ sighed. “I’m sorry I was so stupid, and I’m sorry that I hurt you. I thought I was doing it because I loved you, and I was saving you from myself. But I was just hurting you. I’m not Luke,” he said while shaking his head, “I won’t let myself be like him. I wouldn’t hurt you, I wouldn’t even think of it. I was running from you because I didn’t think I deserved you. I didn’t believe I deserved you loving me so damn much.” JJ had tears shining in his eyes that matched your own.

“JJ, I sat in my room for months crying over you. I was panicking that you’d be trapped with Luke tonight, I wanted to go find you. I was terrified when you didn’t even say that you were okay,” you whispered, tears tracking down your cheeks. “God, when you came through that door I didn’t know if I was angry or happy. I still love being in your arms, but it makes me so angry to be held by you. I still fucking love you, even though I tried not to.”

Tears slipped out from JJ’s red eyes as he ran his hands through his wet hair. “I still love you too, Y/N. I never stopped. I don’t expect you to take me back — hell, I'd be shocked if you did — but if you want to try again, I want to, too. I want to be better for you.”

You wiped at your eyes, not knowing which drops were from the shower, or which were from your salty tears. You didn’t want to be hurt again, but you knew your heart wouldn’t be whole again unless you were with JJ. You knew he wasn’t Luke. You knew because JJ kissed you sweetly, he talked to you lovingly anytime he got the chance, he held you when your mind was out of control, and he never got angry with you. Of course, you two had had your arguments — but you worked them out together, both of you listening to the other’s concerns and talking out solutions.

“Of course I want you back, JJ.” You shook your head at him and turned the shower off. “But we’re not going to be back at the same place we ended. I have to know I can trust you again. You know that, right?”

JJ nodded at you, sniffling quietly. “I can do that... I can do that, Y/N.” He followed you onto the tiled floor, standing as water dripped off of him with quiet thuds. While you wrapped a towel around yourself and grabbed the other JJ pulled on his sweatpants. You walked over to the boy and draped the towel around his shoulders as he thanked you. JJ gazed adoringly at you, enamored by everything about you. The curve of your lips, the way strands of your hair were pasted to your forehead, the flecks of different colors within your y/e/c irises. He loved the mundane things he could do with you, and he loved the fact that you didn’t step back from him even more.

You cocked your eyebrow at JJ when you notice his staring. His eyes were focused on your lips, and he dipped his head down to level with your own. Your heart fluttered rapidly as your lips met, and it felt like your heart would beat directly out of your chest. His hand slid to cup your cheek, and yours moved to his shoulders. The only thing that mattered to you was JJ’s mouth on yours, and the throbbing pain inside of your head and throughout your body was replaced with a floating feeling. No more pain, just the warmth of JJ’s body enveloping your own. The kiss was soft and effortless — hypnotic, even — and the connection of your lips was reforming the burned bridge that linked you. The sweet scent of your skin made JJ grin and the velvety feel of your skin against his rough fingertips felt familiar; It was everything that he’d been craving for the last few months.

As he swiped his tongue across your lip, you pulled back to rest your forehead against his. His eyes were glittering like ice, as always. The intimacy of the moment felt so perfect, you didn’t want to say anything to ruin it, but you hadn’t gotten any rest all night, and you doubt JJ had either. “JJ, let’s lay down, okay?”

He hummed to you, his grin not faltering. He knew nothing more than kissing would happen tonight, but the thought of just sleeping in the same bed as you made him fidgety. JJ played with the strings on his sweatpants as he waited for you to finish getting dressed, having pulled on his shirt in the meantime. When you called for him to come out to your room he grinned, seeing you sitting on your bed while wearing one of the old tee’s he had left for you. You patted the space on the bed next to you for JJ to lay down with you. Once he walked over and slid under the covers with you, you both laid on your sides to look at each other. You reached for his hand, his fingers lacing with yours as he inspected your small hand enveloped in his.

“You never took that ring off, either,” he mumbled. The cold metal of the ring pressed against your skin, the one with JJ’s initials engraved in it that he had given you for one of your small anniversaries. You saw his matching one on his finger, the black metal had your own initials carved in. You let your gaze fall back on his face, seeing for the first time how tired his eyes were and the darkness underneath them.

“It's weird to lay like this, isn't it?” You asked with a small laugh, dropping JJ’s hand as he cracked a smile and shook his head. He would have slept on a pile of rocks if it meant that he would be close to you. You jumped as the thunder cracked violently and lightning illuminated the room. JJ opened his arms and you crawled over to him, his arms encircling you to hold you against him. Resting your head against his heart, you felt JJ press his lips against your hair and a wave of warmth washed over the both of you.

“I remember just how much you hated storms. I know you could never sleep when they happened,” JJ mumbled to you while tilting his head back to look at your figure, completely relaxed against him in the darkness. You opted to set your chin on his chest to meet his eyes. “Are you glad I came tonight? Or do you hate me even more, now?”

Even in the shadow of midnight, you could still see the sparkle of JJ’s eyes and the outline of his angular cheeks. His eyes searched yours in the second of silence before your response. “I’m so incredibly happy you came, J.” You moved almost imperceptibly, positioning yourself so that your face was slightly above JJ’s while his hands shifted from their previous position down to lay on your hips. You slid your fingertips along his jaw and lowered your lips to meet his as your eyes fluttered closed. JJ kissed you delicately, his lips sliding like velvet against your own. Your hand slid to the back of his head to tangle itself into his golden locks, his lips parting as you did. Butterflies erupted in JJ’s stomach and heat rose to his cheeks — it felt like the first time you had ever kissed him, and his head was dizzy from desire. The two of you laid like that for hours, your mouths moving together carefully, both of you entranced by one another yet again.

Finally, with JJ’s hand locked in yours, your world has stopped crumbling beneath your feet.

~tagging some moots~

@starlightstarkey @starksweasleymain @softstarkey @drewswannabegirl @shawnssongs @hmspxgue @livinglikepogues @jjsredhat @jjsbxtch @jjsmaybcnk @topperthorntons @obx-direction-sos @aesthetic-lyss @jiaraendgame

[fific7]

That Swept-Back Hair

Billy Russo x Reader

@omgrachwrites 500 Follower Celebration

AU Prompt: Friends with Benefits

Summary: How will Billy Russo react when his FWB finds another lover? Bearing in mind that he’s a complete hypocrite.

Warnings: Swearing, jealousy, fluff with mentions of sex.

A/N: Loosely based on S1 Billy, it’s non-canon & set in my imaginary Punisher universe.

(My GIF)

»»———————————————　⚜　———————-————————-««

Your phone was jumping like a jack-in-the-box on your bedside table, the blue light of the screen illuminating the wall behind it every few seconds.

You rolled over with a groan, taking a moment before picking it up and looking at it. Of course it was Billy Russo, who else would it be at 1 AM on a Saturday morning?

The guy next to you in the bed also rolled over, covering his mouth as he yawned, eyes half-open.

“Everything OK, Y/N?” he asked.

“Yeah, Raf, just a needy friend.... gonna call them back, so do you mind staying hush-hush for the next few minutes?”

He yawned massively again, speaking through it, “Ahhhhrrrrr...yeah... no problem...”

You hit the ‘Favourites’ star next to Billy’s name in your contacts, hearing it start ringing.

It went to voicemail so you hung up, slid the phone onto the table and threw your head back down onto your pillow. Fucking Russo. Blows up your phone with missed calls & “Pick up!!” texts then doesn’t answer when you call back.

It rang two seconds later, just as Raf had turned towards you, opening his mouth to no doubt ask you about your ‘needy friend’. You rolled your eyes and grabbed it, but the screen went dark just as you did so.

You hit redial, it rang out, went to voicemail. “Fuck!” you ground out between your teeth.

Your head had touched your pillow again for about 5 minutes, when there was a staccato series of knocks on your apartment door.

You shot up in bed, quivering - ah hell, it couldn’t be, could it? Really?

Raf had dozed back off in the meantime & didn’t even stir when the knocks rang out sharply in the quiet apartment. Not much of a guard dog, you thought, quickly throwing on your discarded PJs.

You padded barefoot over to the front door, confirming via the peephole that Billy Russo was indeed outside in the hallway, leaning on your doorframe so he could place one eye right to it. You spotted an eyebrow wiggle as you made eye contact. Oh holy hell!

You straightened your shoulders, took the chain off and unlocked the door, swinging it open.

“Billy!” you said quietly, with a small smile, “What brings you here?” You hadn’t seen hide nor hair of him for about three weeks. Not that that was anything new.

He moved gracefully past you like the panther he was, even though you’d been trying to subtly block him from coming in. He was dressed in one of his sharp suits, so you guessed he’d been at one of the never-ending stream of events he attended.

Your mouth drew into a line. Whoever he’d gone there with must have bucked the trend and bailed on him. Otherwise he wouldn’t have turned up at your place when, in his mind, the night was still young.

He turned towards you, placing both hands on your hips as he did so, pulling you up against his muscled chest.

“Now, Y/N, why do you think I’m here, holding my best girl in my arms?” the New York accented voice purred in your ear.

He leant in and kissed you hungrily, deepening the kiss immediately to a passionate one.

You pulled away, escaping his grasp. His eyes widened in surprise, a small frown making its way onto his brow. A few locks of his dark hair had fallen forward onto his brow and he swept them back up with his fingers, a reflexive gesture for him.

“I tried to call you back,” you mumbled, “I’ve... uh... got a friend staying with me at the moment.”

He shot his trademark smirk at you. “Hey, that’s OK. We can be quiet for once, yeah?” Grinning now.

In true romcom fashion, Raf picked that moment to come wandering into the lounge, clad only in his boxers, both hands ruffling through his short hair.

Billy’s mouth dropped open. He made a quick recovery, though. Gestured with a thumb.

“So... this your ‘friend’?”

He looked Raf up and down. He was a 6 feet 3 firefighter with the FDNY, and to put it mildly, he was ripped.

He topped Billy by a couple of inches, and by a few pounds. Billy scowled at him.

Raf eyed up Billy too, turning to you and asking, “This your ‘needy friend’ you were talkin’ ‘bout, Y/N?”

Oh crap.

Billy’s scowl turned to a furious glare, aimed right at you. “Needy?!! Ah, fuck this, Y/N! I think we all know who’s needy around here.”

Your mouth rounded into an offended O, but before you could reply, Billy was out the door and it slammed loudly behind him.

Great - now all your neighbours were gonna be mad at you too.

»»———————————————-　⚜　-———-———————————-««

You had then spent an uncomfortable half hour over a coffee with Raf, explaining the dynamics of your non-relationship with Billy.

“Now,” he’d said, brow furrowed, “let me get this straight. He’s part of your friend group, you see him every so often at a bar or at one of their places - but never his. He sees tons of other women but turns up here for booty calls whenever his busy schedule allows?”

He shook his head. “He’s using you, Y/N. What a selfish prick.”

You bristled, “Look, we go back quite a ways. Since he was in the Marines. I knew Frank first as we were neighbours when we were kids, and I eventually met Billy through him. He’s Frankie’s best friend, they’re Marine brothers.”

“And how long have you been ‘friends with benefits’?”

You muttered your response. “Sorry, what was that you said?” he asked.

“Three years,” you repeated reluctantly.

“Damn.” he said. “And what am I, exactly? Filler for whenever fuckboy isn’t calling?”

“No! Raf, you’re a really nice guy, and I love spending time with you.”

He stood up, heading to the bedroom. “Look, I’m gonna go. I need a few days to try and get my head round your fucked-up relationship with the suit-wearing Marine.”

He’d left shortly afterwards, saying he’d call. You weren’t sure that he would.

You met up with Karen for lunch later that day. You’d been co-workers first off, then had become good friends. She was currently dating Frank, your childhood friend.

You were so glad that he was back out socialising, in a small way, after losing his wife and kids in a brutal gang clash just over a year before. They and several others had been what the papers described, rather callously, as “collateral damage” while minding their own business in the public park the gun fight took place in.

Frank had understandably closed himself off to a large extent as he grieved and after a decent interval, you’d tried your best to draw him back out in a gentle way. You’d decided to indulge in a bit of Matchmaking Lite, and had invited Karen along to a night out with the rest of your friends. You knew Frank would be there and as you’d hoped, they hit it off right away.

You spilled what had happened the night before to her, grateful for a shoulder to cry on. She looked and sounded sympathetic, but you knew she wasn’t a big fan of your arrangement with Billy. She again voiced her astonishment that you still had it going on with him.

“Karen, without making you vomit by sharing too many details, Billy is just the absolute best in bed. He’s got the stamina of an ox. Several oxes, in fact.” You just knew your eyes had a faraway look in them.

Her mouth pursed in a ‘moux’ of distaste. “But still, Y/N, he’s just so damn selfish about it! It’s all on his terms.”

“You know he’s got commitment issues.”

She choked on her espresso martini. “Ya don’t say!!”

“It’s complicated.”

“Look, honey, I’m gonna be straight with you. It is anything but complicated. He spends 90% of his time at Anvil, 9.9% with other gals, and guess who gets the remaining measly 0.1%, the crumbs from his table?” She pointed her finger straight at you. “Coconut for the lady over there!”

You sat in silence for several minutes, turning over in your mind what Raf, and now Karen, had said to you. Eventually you nodded slowly. “You know what, Kar, you’re totally right. I just let the great sex blind me to all the rest of his fucking bullshit.”

Time to cut Billy loose.

Not that you ever had him tied down in the first place. If you were being brutally honest.

And you weren’t sure whether he’d even bother showing up at your place ever again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

The next day being Sunday meant that some serious ‘Me Time’ was in order.

Sitting on the sofa, you stared off into space, thinking about the two men in your life. You huffed to yourself; you hadn’t heard from either of them so far, and that was probably for the best. You could do without being stuck in the middle of some kind of testosterone-fuelled conflict between the two of them.

Then you laughed out loud at yourself. Who were you kidding? You’d probably never see either of them again! You stood up, stretching out your shoulder and neck muscles. Time for a bit of self-pampering.

You had a long relaxing bath, gave yourself a leisurely mani-pedi, ordered in some pizza, and began to go through some layouts for work the next day.

You were a digital content editor at the newspaper both you & Karen worked for. It was okay as jobs went, but it didn’t set your world on fire. However, what did excite you was that the newspaper’s parent publishing house was about to launch a travel magazine, and you’d applied for a transfer.

What really made butterflies pop up into your stomach, though, was the fact that the magazine’s content editors would also be contributing instead of just collating. You’d already had an interview with the Editor in Chief, and should be hearing back within the next few days.

If someone else got that position you’d applied for, you’d just have to shove them out of your third floor office window at the very first opportunity.

While you were thinking of potentially becoming a murderer, there was a familiar pattern of raps at your door. Your heart sank straight through your boots.

You knew it was Billy before you opened the door. It sounded ridiculous but he had a certain way of knocking. Peremptory, demanding, with military precision.

He stood outside your door, tensed up and rigid, with a carefully blank look on his face.

“You alone?” he barked, by way of greeting.

You crossed your arms over your chest, glaring at him. “Why, hello Billy. How are you? I’m fine, Y/N, how are you? Yeah, I’m great.”

He glared right back. “I asked if you were alone.”

“That’s highly unlikely, Billy, seeing as how I’m so needy!”

He huffed and marched inside straight to the sofa, sitting down and leaning his arms on his spread-apart thighs. He clasped his hands together, letting them dangle loosely between his knees.

“You said I was needy first.” Sulky face.

“Hey, are we back in school or something?”

He looked up at you, dark eyes staring into yours intensely. “Why d’you get with another guy, Y/N?”

Straight to the point, then. OK, you were going to return the favour.

“What, I’m not allowed to have a life? D’you think I’m going to just sit around, waiting to gratefully receive 5 minutes of your attention every few weeks? Like some kind of fucktoy, to be picked up and dropped at will? Seriously?”

He clenched his fingers until the joints went white. “I thought you were happy with the way things are between us!!?... our... our arrangement. You’re important to me. And you know I care about you!” Not meeting your eyes at this last comment.

“Huh!!!” You leant against your kitchen island, you weren’t going to get into Billy’s orbit. Too risky.

“So important that you spend all your time at work, while bedding half of Manhattan? Leaving me with the crumbs from your table, as someone put it recently.”

He shot up from the sofa, fury in his eyes. “Who fuckin’ said that?!”

You shrugged, “It’s not important. What is important is that our arrangement, as you call it, is over. Since you put it in such business-like terms, think of it as a contract which has been terminated.”

Billy stalked across the room until he was an inch away from you, eyes boring into yours. “No.”

You laughed in disbelief, eyebrows arching. “You think that just cos you say ‘No’ it’s not gonna happen? Because no-one ever says no to Billy Russo, is that it?”

He grabbed you, lips finding yours in a ferocious kiss. One hand crept up the nape of your neck, his fingers running through your hair, while the other hand pulled your hips to his. He had an impressive erection. You gasped as you felt the pressure of it against you, but pushed him away, escaping to the other side of the kitchen island.

“Just go, Billy. Please.”

He stared at you, wide-eyed, those dark pools of his looking suspiciously glossy. Was he...? No way.

Billy turned on his heel and slammed out of your apartment. Again.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy knocked his beer bottle off the table with his elbow, as he leant forward to drunkenly wave a finger in his friend’s face. Luckily, it fell onto the grassy verge below, rather than the decked patio they were sitting on in Frank’s back garden.

Frank grabbed his finger. “Russo!!! Chill out, man.”

“She tol’ me... t’go, Frankie, I was kissin’ her an’ she jus’ said Go!” slurred Billy. Frank squeezed his eyes shut at the whiny tone then looked back at him.

“Bill! We all warned you she wouldn’t put up with your bullshit forever. You should’ve known this was comin’ bud.”

“Bu’ I... I... love her,” he blurted, then stared at Frank, eyes wide, part horrified, part terrified.

“Got a strange way of showin’ it, Bill. Picking other women over her, until you decide it’s time to hook up. Surprised she’s stood for it so long!”

Billy swayed slightly in his garden chair, just staring back at him, nodding repetitively like a bobble head every so often.

“I gotta get her back, Frankie.”

“Whooo,” Frank huffed out a big breath, “well, ya always did like to choose the impossible missions, Russo.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You were beginning to understand what having a stalker was like.

When you left work the following day, the first person you spotted on the sidewalk outside your office building was Billy Russo.

You hesitated, shocked, then nodded and said quietly, “Hi Billy,” before continuing your short walk to the subway.

He fell into step alongside you. “M’gonna show you just how much I care about you,” you heard, then he was gone. Just gone, into the crowd of commuters around you.

That was just the beginning. Every morning, one single rose of the palest pearly pink would be delivered to your office, laying in a swirl of black chiffon within a silver gift box.

Texts would drop into your phone at unexpected hours. “Please forgive me. Let me back into your life. I love you, Y/N.”

The first time you saw those words, you nearly dropped your phone. What the....?

Gourmet meals and bottles of rosé prosecco would be delivered to your door, precisely 30 minutes after you’d get home. Was he watching you or something? A little shiver ran up your spine. He was still a sniper, after all.

You would catch glimpses of Billy when you left the office, and outside your apartment. Without a shadow of a doubt, he meant you to see him, he would never be so visible on a real surveillance job. But he didn’t ever approach you.

Then you got your dream job. You, Karen and a bunch of your colleagues went to your regular bar after work for a quick celebration. There was a toast proposed to your new job at one point, and one of your male colleagues grabbed you in a friendly bear hug after they’d all shouted “Cheers!”

You were looking past his arm as he hugged you, and found yourself staring into Billy Russo’s dark eyes. Casually dressed, he was leaning on a high table near the door, a beer in front of him.

Billy lazily pushed back from his table, strode over to you, swiped you out of the guy’s arms, wrapped his own arms round you and planted a kiss on your temple, with a nonchalant, “Hi, sweetheart.”

Karen, who had heard all about your last encounter with Billy, looked thunderstruck. You’d be getting interrogated later, that was for sure.

He, meanwhile, landed another kiss right next to your lips and said, “See you later at home,” giving you a quick squeeze before walking off.

Your female colleagues meanwhile were swooning over Billy, one of them commenting that she wasn’t surprised you’d kept so damn quiet about your hot boyfriend. You gave Karen a meaningful look and just smiled back at them all, neither confirming nor denying anything.

However the feeling of Billy’s body against yours, the delicious smell of him, his lips on your skin, had set your heart racing at a dangerous speed. You really did try to push those thoughts aside.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Flopping down onto your sofa when you got home, you laid your head back on it and thought about that evening. As expected, Karen had questioned you ruthlessly as you left the bar together, like the perceptive investigative reporter she was.

Talking as you walked to the subway, you’d given her every detail of all the deliveries, glimpses of him and texts you’d received in the last few days. Karen had stopped walking, looking at you in surprise. “Y/N, why didn’t you tell me about all of this before now? Hell, Frank told me he had some crazy plan to win you back, but I never really thought...” her voice trailed off.

“Is it working?” she asked next. “Mmmm, yes and no, to be honest,” you said. “Don’t let it!” she said firmly, “This is what he should have been doing all along, instead of treating you like a total afterthought.”

You nodded, “Can’t argue with ya on that,” you agreed. “Is he going to turn up at your place, d’you think?” she asked. “Wouldn’t be surprised,” you laughed, “I think that was Billy giving me a heads-up.”

So as you’d been 90% expecting, the familiar knock at the door came about 15 minutes after you’d got back. You got up and after checking the peephole, sighed and opened it. “Hi, Billy.”

This was like déjà vu. Billy brushed past you and sat himself down on the sofa, in the same pose as the last time. Head down, hair falling forward and hiding his eyes from you. This time, you bit the bullet and sat at the opposite end, leaning against the armrest so you were facing him.

“Well, Billy.... leaving aside the stalkerish overtones, I guess I should thank you for the roses, gourmet meals and prosecco.”

He swung his head towards you, eyes wide. “They were just to get your attention. Frankie told me it’s what I shoulda been doin’ anyway, all along.”

You nodded, “Yeah, he’s not wrong.”

Billy heaved out a big sigh, head dropping. “I know I’ve been a complete shit to you, Y/N. Took you for granted.” He met your eyes again, “Truth is, I was fallin’ in love with you, and I really didn’t know how to handle it. I thought it was... just sex to you, so I... I was a coward and tried to ignore it, and acted like I didn’t give a shit about you. I just couldn’t have you kick me to the curb if I told you how I felt.”

You were genuinely shocked - Billy had never talked about his feelings before. You’d accepted this in the past, telling yourself it was due to his upbringing in the system.

“So you meant what you said in your daily texts, then?”

He nodded, still looking straight at you, “Yeah...I meant it, I do love you, Y/N.” Then he quickly looked down again.

Before you could stop yourself, you’d leant along the sofa and your fingers were pushing that silky hair off his forehead. He looked up at you, taking hold of your wrist and kissing your pulse point softly. You stood up, saying “C’mere, you,” and took hold of his hand, pulling him up along with you.

He put his arms round you, burying his face into your hair and just holding you. “I’ve missed you,” he mumbled. You laughed, “What?! Even though you hadn’t seen me for weeks before the night you landed on my doorstep?!”

“I know, I know, you don’t need to remind me I’ve been a complete prick. I’ll be honest, I think it took me seein’ you with that guy, and him actin’ like you were his, to give me that kick up the ass I needed.” The dark eyes looked down at you, and he sniffed, “He still around?” You shook your head.

“Nah. I think he thought I was completely insane for still being with you.”

Billy laughed, “Maybe he’s right....” he looked at you, serious again. “You willin’ to give me another chance, Y/N? I promise you I’ll do it right this time. The whole dating thing, asking you to be my girlfriend after three dates, all that stuff... everything.”

“Everything? Like, what if I say no sex to start with? And no running off to other women to scratch that itch? You’ll swear to all that? Really?!”

“I swear to you, on my Ka-Bar.”

“Wow,” you said, knowing that the knife was never out of Billy’s possession. It was an integral part of him. Maybe he was serious after all.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

A small kiss on your cheek woke you the next morning. Those eyes, those dark liquid pools, stared into yours, while a thumb ran over your cheek. “Mornin’, sweetheart,” smiling down at you. Reaching up, you ran your fingers into his hair, moving it off his forehead. “Morning, sweetheart,” you echoed, smiling back.

You and Billy had shared a bed but nothing else, except hugs and hand-holding. You were in your PJ’s - well, camisole top with matching shorts - and all Billy had on were his boxer briefs. You couldn’t deny you’d had thoughts of just leaping on him during the night... let’s face it, he was one hot dude. And he knew how to ‘look after’ a woman in bed, as he himself put it.

But no, you were determined he was gonna have to work for it, just like he promised he would. So you’d had to show some self-discipline, well, a lot of it, actually. He’d passed the first test - he’d actually stayed all night. Usually he was gone before the morning light stole through the curtains.

Now, he kissed your bare shoulder and leapt out of bed, like he was back in the Marines. He stood still for a moment, sideways next to the bed, having a leisurely full body stretch. Billy knew full well you’d be totally enjoying the view. A little tease from him to remind you what you were missing.

The sunlight, which stole through a small gap between your curtains in the otherwise dim room, picked out the sculpted muscles on his back & torso. Then he turned slightly more, ensuring you wouldn’t miss seeing the hard-on he was currently sporting. You shook your head, with a slight smile on your lips. The cocky big bastard.

“Where you off to, Billy?” you asked, thinking to yourself, if he’s headed to Anvil, he can fucking shove his second cha......

“I’m gonna make my beautiful almost-girlfriend a cup of good Italian coffee.”

You smiled at his departing back as he disappeared out of the bedroom. “Oh, Billy?”

His voice drifted back through from the kitchen, “Yeah, darlin’?”

“Can I please get some toast with that, too?”

“Sure, sweetheart.”

You stretched luxuriously, nestling your head into your pillows.

Looked like you were going to find out what having a panther on a leash was like.