#he also said I shouldn’t wear anything that lets people see my ankles

[shyswag]

Only one of the men on my dads side hasn’t called me fat, the one I’m not counting is dead

[nii-chans-rabiddogs]

Weird Doctor

TWs: drugged character, restraints, muzzle. It's extra long, but I'm not sure where to cut it so I haven't. lemme know if i need to add any other TWs if theyre missing, please. Have fun <3

@cupcakes-and-pain @maracujatangerine

It feels like I’m floating in syrup, cuz everything is nice and quiet and slow, but it’s also too cold to go back to sleep. I wriggled around until realizing that I’m not on a bed and there is no blanket, sadly. I opened my eyes enough to figure out that the cement I’m laying on isn’t covered by anything. Why would I sleep on cement? It’s not warm or comfy at all, and I always trip over the cracks and skin my hands or knees, it's the worst. Wait, there’s a blanket, but it's on the other side of the room and I don’t wanna get up. I stared sadly at it for a bit, letting my brain melt away. Eventually I got too cold and tried to get up, but my arms shook and everything started spinning just a little bit so I laid back down. I huffed, and tried to remember what happened but I kept getting distracted by how cold it was. Why would anyone ever make it so cold? Why would you torture yourself like that? It has to be at least 71 degrees for me to feel comfortable and even then I hide under the blankets. It definitely isn’t that warm in here, and I wanna leave but the only way out is a weird door with a flap at the bottom. 

Actually, the door looks like those ones in movies, yknow? The ones for cells to hold the prisoners, all steel and whatever metal doors are made of. It looks really heavy though, and the room is pretty dark. I can see alright, but there’s no light coming in anywhere. There’s also a ring in the center of the room, which is a trip hazard. You shouldn’t put things out in the middle of the room with no light source, someone’s gonna break the ankle tripping on it. I wouldn’t though, cuz I never trip ever and anyone who says I do is lying and should be banished from my kingdom. Wait, I don't have a kingdom. Do I? Oh well. It would be nice to have a kingdom, just relaxing all day getting to eat all the chocolates and not having to do anything. Maybe I should start my own kingdom, but people say it’s hard. All you gotta do is declare yourself king though, so I don’t understand what they think is hard about that. Maybe they can’t make themselves king? I could make all the people kings, but only if they promised to leave my kingdom alone and give me chocolates.

Suddenly, the door was shoved open, and I closed my eyes against the very bright light that came with it. That was scary, it dragged on the ground and made a really loud noise that hurt my ears. I opened my eyes to glare at it, so it wouldn’t do that again. Oh hey, when they get here? There was someone standing in the door, with a weird thing in their hands. 

“Oh good, you’re awake. Let’s get this on you, I need to take you down to the medbay. You lost quite a bit of blood, and we need to fix that. Getting more is a pain, by the way, so if you lose any more I will drain you dry myself, understood?” They said, walking up to me with the weird thing.

I tried to say something but it hurt and I started coughing, which hurt more. I huffed, cuz I couldn't do anything else. The guy crouched down, setting the weird thing on the floor nearby. He unfolded the weird thing, which had other things inside. He grabbed what looked like one of those shock collars for dogs, but without the spikes on the inside. She- wait, is she a guy or a girl? I can’t tell. Oh well. They slid it under my neck before pulling it tight and clicking it together. Rude, I’m not a dog. I’m not even an animal, everyone can see that. Maybe they need glasses? The weird person was wearing a doctor trench coat, which is even weirder than a normal trench coat, actually. The weird doctor pulled another thing from the little pile that was already mostly gone, and it looked like an odd fabric mask.

He lifted my head up and placed the cold metal part under my chin, and pulling the top metal piece over the bridge of my nose. I tried to watch, but my eyes went cross eyed and made me dizzy, so I just stared at the weird doctor again. They tugged on it before clipping the two back straps together around the back of my head, and then making it really tight somehow. I winced and tried to move away but the weird doctor just yanked my head back and told me to stay still or else, so I stopped wiggling and glared at them. They started pulling on something on the side of the mask thingie, and then that side was really tight and I couldn't open my mouth at all. They started doing the same for the other side, and I tried to move again but it was hard and really slow, so the weird doctor just shoved me back onto the floor.

He yanked my hands behind my back and click-clacked super handcuffs onto my wrists, right over the cuts from before. I tried to pull on them, but it just made my wrists hurt really really bad so I just laid there while the weird doctor went out past the door. It was still cold, but now it was worse cuz i can’t move and everything hurts. Weird Doctor dragged in a moving bed, like the ones in hospitals for patients. Weird, a doctor would never let it get this cold. I’ve never seen a doctor before so I’m not sure. Or a hospital. Movies show them all the time, and they always seem really loud with everyone yelling and weird machines beeping or screaming. Maybe Weird Doctor is a worker for a quiet hospital? Quiet hospitals seem like they would be more secret-ier, so they have to be super secret and make sure nobody tells.

“Alright, runt. I’m going to lift you and if you kick me, I will break your ankle. Behave.” 

That was the only warning I got before Weird Doctor lifted me up in the princess carry and set me down on the moving bed. I wanted to kick him but it felt like I was gonna throw up and I didn't wanna do that. I can’t even open my mouth at all, and I didn't wanna have to swallow puke. That’d be really gross and icky. I jerked when my wrists got crushed under me, and it felt like someone lit them on fire so I rolled onto my side. I took a deep breath, but it didn’t make me feel any better, and nothing made any more sense. Hopefully Weird Doctor could fix my wrists, and maybe give me some chocolate. I’m really hungry, but I can't ask for anything cuz my throat hurts, and the mask keeps my mouth clamped shut. 

Weird doctor started pushing the moving bed out of the dark room, and out into the hallway. I didn’t look very different, but there are lights which is nice. No one will trip, cuz now they can see the ground. Unless they’re distracted, like the one time Detective walked into a door while reading a case paper. He dropped like he was shot too, which was funny cuz he cussed like a sailor, whatever that means. I heard Ms. Secretary say that to someone, but I'm not sure what it means. He did cuss a lot though, and he said I shouldn’t repeat any of it to anyone who looked like a reporter.

We passed by some other rooms, but they all had the same type of door, so I couldn’t see in. I heard something whimpering in one of them, maybe a dog? That makes me sad cuz doggies are really nice and fun to play with, they shouldn’t be hurt. Maybe if I ask really nicely, Weird Doctor will help them too? We passed more doors, and I could hear yelling from some of them, which was scary. I don’t like when people yell, cuz they get really loud and mean and scary. Weird Doctor just kept pushing the moving bed along, and the yelling went away. Weird Doctor is kinda nice, but I don’t like the super-cuffs cuz they hurt my wrists more, or the mask cuz i cant open my mouth at all, or it’ll pull on my nose and make that hurt too. Maybe if I was good, Weird Doctor would get rid of them? And, and maybe if i was really super good i’d get chocolates and something to drink. My throat felt really dry and scratchy, and that was worse than it hurting cuz I can’t scratch my throat. 

Weird Doctor walked us around a corner, and suddenly there was an old elevator, like the ones in the scary movies. It looked a little different though, cuz there’s red blotches everywhere and I thought rust was orange. Maybe rust gets darker the longer it's there? The elevator jerked, and suddenly it felt like I was climbing but without actually doing anything. It was cool, but also made me feel sick again, so I ignored it and listened to the music that was playing from somewhere. IT was really nice and calming and made me feel sleepy again, but I don’t think Weird Doctor would like it if I fell asleep again. The elevator dinged, and Weird Doctor pushed the moving bed out of the doors. The walls were really bright, and they were white. I was right, this is a hospital! But it's a quiet hospital, cuz I don't hear anyone yelling, and nothing is beeping. It’s really nice. They pushed the moving bed really, really close to another bed, and lifted me onto that one instead. Why would they do that? The other bed was just fine. Probably a Quiet hospital thing. Weird Doctor undid the super-cuffs, but then they rolled me onto my back just to strap my wrists down to the bed. This is a little unnecessary, I couldn’t do anything before, so what’s the difference? They walked off, so I just laid on my back and rolled my head to watch them. Weird Doctor pulled out a tall, rolling thingie and hooked a red bag to it. 

They dragged it over to me, and shoved a needle into my arm. I huffed at the prick, but then the tube it was connected to started to fill with the red stuff. It looked really super familiar but I can’t remember. It was definitely a hospital thing though, but usually the bags are clear. Maybe I get to have a special bag cuz I'm a special boy. I’m the specialiest of boys, so that makes sense. Weird Doctor kept walking around and grabbing things and setting them on the table right next to the bed. I didn’t see that, maybe it's to hold all the chocolates and medicine things Weird Doctor is setting down. They need to make sure to leave enough room for the chocolates, though, or else I’ll have to beat them up. Chocolates are the most important-y things ever. 

I blinked slowly as Weird Doctor started filling needles with something, but it’s getting hard to stay awake cuz it's warm. The heat made me tired, and I couldn’t keep my eyes open. Hopefully Weird Doctor wouldn’t be mad at me, but they also never said anything about not falling asleep, I think. They’ve been nice so far though, cuz they haven’t yelled at me at all. Still don’t like the mask thing, so he’s not the nicest but he’s nice enough. I rolled my head over t o look at the ceiling. It was a pretty grey color, and I stared at it while falling asleep. Blue would be prettier though, I think.

[ynscrazylife]

Can I please please request one where Natasha and Yelena have another younger sister (Y/N) and she gets badly injured and her older sisters are hysterical since they’re afraid to lose one they love the most

A Race Against Time | romanoff fam fic

Summary: Natasha and Yelena do their best to help their hurt younger sister.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting!

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 |  Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/twitalents

“Everybody alright?” Natasha asked as Alexei and Melina approached her and Yelena. The redhead herself definitely hadn’t gotten out of the whole ordeal without injuries. In fact, from Dreykov punching her to the fight against the Widows, and the fight against Antonia (not to mention the injuries from the past few days that she hadn’t taken care of), she was in some pain. However she didn’t worry about herself, she knew she’d be fine. She always was.

Natasha glanced over and spotted Y/N making her way over to them, too. From the distance, Natasha couldn’t tell that she was limping and was very hurt.

“I am clearly injured,” Melina deadpanned, causing Natasha to look back over and send her adoptive mother a smile as an apology. With a quick glance, Natasha could tell that she’d be okay, she’d just need a cast on that ankle and-

Thump.

The sound, accompanied by Yelena’s loud gasp and yelp, broke through Natasha’s thoughts and caused her to whip around suddenly. The sight her eyes landed on instantly sent what felt like an ice shard plunging into her chest. No. No.

By the time she snapped out of it, Yelena was already by Y/N’s unconscious figure, which the thump must have been - her plummeting to the ground - and Alexei was helping Melina over as fast as he could. Natasha sped past them and dropped to her knees, her brain wired to already be processing the situation and formulating a plan, while she lightly stopped Yelena’s wrist to prevent her from going to shake Y/N.

“You don’t move someone who is unconscious unless necessary - it could injure them,” she breathed out. Yelena, who could see that her older sister was in autopilot mode, sat back and let her do her thing, opting to look up at her parents, instead.

Both their eyes were glued to Y/N. Alexei’s eyebrows crinkled and, after taking a big breath, muttered (just loud enough for them to hear), “There’s blood on you.”

Natasha’s eyes snapped down and sure enough, her knees were bloodied. She quickly looked up only to see blood beginning to come from Y/N’s stomach where she had fallen on her side. Closing her eyes for a moment to allow herself to think, Natasha carefully and gently pulled up Y/N’s shirt, only to see an open gash in the shape of the Widow hourglass.

“Wha-?” She said, barely forming a word, and Yelena leaned over to see.

She immediately began shaking her head and pushed Y/N onto her back. “I-I know what this is, I think. I remember hearing about a weapon that’d leave that mark,” she rambled out.

Melina peered over Natasha’s shoulder and when she saw it, her face went pale. “That-that weapon, it ejects a blast that makes that mark when it meets the skin. It was made as a precaution in case any of the Widows went rogue - it was made years ago. But only a few were made because they were so confident in themselves. It-it goes along with a process they constructed to re-brainwash the Widows. The blast gets under her skin, in her body, with a chemical that’s in it, and that chemical starts the brainwashing process,” she explained.

A park of hope entered Yelena’s eyes. “So she won’t be fully brainwashed?” She asked.

“Not without the rest of the procedure,” Melina began, but then her eyes widened when she remembered something and horror quickly flashed across her face. “But if the process isn’t completed within a certain time period, the chemical will wear off its brainwashing effects and instead will start hurting her . . . A lot . . . But I have an antidote-” her tone sped up now, “-It’s back at the house. We need to get her there.”

Natasha and Yelena nodded, both having gone through a great wave of emotions throughout Melina’s words. Yelena, while racked with worry, still remained hopeful, and Natasha did her best to be, too, but her tears were drying and she was sniffling.

“The jet is-” Alexei began to say, when the sound of the engines of cars rapidly approaching cut him off.

Natasha looked over. “Shit, Ross,” she said, regretting even tipping him off to their location in the first place.

Melina bit her lip. “You girls go. Take Y/N home. The antidote is labelled ‘Ant-Widow,’,” she told them firmly.

Yelena’s lips parted to protest, not wanting to split up, but catching Natasha picking up Y/N out of the corner of her eye stopped her. She nodded, rising to her feet.

“We’ll distract them. They won’t want anything to do with us when they realize you’re not here,” Melina insisted.

Natasha sent her a look that she could only hope was conveying everything she wanted it to. A million thoughts whizzed about in her mind, none making room for each other. She wondered, would they leave them alone? Or would they be taken into questioning? Shouldn’t she be the one facing Ross - since she called him there? Is Y/N going to be okay? Will they get there in time?

By the way Melina looked back at her, Natasha thought that her message had been received. There was no time to go over the plan any longer, if they stayed even a couple more seconds they’d get caught by Ross, whose army of cars headed to a halt.

Natasha bolted off in the jet’s direction, Yelena quick on her heels. They rushed inside and Natasha took her time to gently put Y/N down before going to the pilot seat. Yelena sat down in the back, wanting to watch over their little sister.

Neither of them said anything until Natasha had gotten them off the ground and away from the field. Yelena could hear the engine whirring and she knew that Natasha was going as fast as this aircraft could probably go.

“Natasha,” she said, her voice small and hesitant, reminding Natasha of her own self when she was younger. The redhead braced herself for her sister’s words. “Do you think we’ll get there in time?”

Natasha let out a slow yet steady breath, fighting back the urge to tell her not to say that. She wondered the same thing, and she hated it. She didn’t answer, though, because she didn’t want to lie. She didn’t know herself, and she also hated that.

Yelena looked down in defeat when she didn’t get an answer and continued watching Y/N. She couldn’t stop herself from worrying and when she spotted the other injuries — bruises, cuts, scrapes — littering her body, she got up and went to the back.

The blonde grabbed the med kit they had stored and went back, quickly opening it up and getting everything she needed. First, bandages. Yelena put pressure on the wound even though she knew it wouldn’t bleed out, and a twinge of guilt hit her when Y/N moved and groaned unconsciously.

She then wrapped up Y/N’s stomach and tended to her other injures, every so often glancing at Natasha, who she could see by the way she was sitting up straight that she was tense. Upset. Worried. Yelena had to admit she was feeling those same things but busied herself by taking care of Y/N.

This carried on and they were about ¾ there when everything shifted. Y/N, who had been mostly quiet throughout the journey, suddenly rolled onto her side, eyes opening with a startled gasp.

Natasha frantically looked up at Yelena and the latter jumped to resolve the situation. Gently, she put her hands on her younger sister’s shoulders and tried to turn her onto her back, but Y/N fought her off and scurried back, against the wall.

“Y/N,” Yelena said, slowly putting her hands up in a “surrender” gesture.

The younger one shook her head as tears began to flow down her cheeks. “It-it hurts,” she got out, wrapping her arms around herself.

Yelena sent Natasha a frightened, desperate look and the glint in Natasha’s eyes held tears in them. “I can’t go any faster!” She cried out in frustration, her anger at her helplessness beginning to grow.

Yelena turned back to Y/N. “Take deep breaths with me, okay?” She said, and took a couple deep breaths to show her. It took Y/N a second, but she followed along. However, the pain didn’t take a break for long, and quickly came crashing back to her, like a magnet.

She let out another cry, but this one filled with that much more anguish, desperation, a pure rage from wanting it to be over, a rage that nearly caused her to vomit. Y/N leaned forward, hoping that there was something - anything - that could relieve this pain for even just a second. The warmth she was soon filled with from her older sister’s arms wrapping around her and pulling her close did nothing to soothe pain, but she found someone to have a steady grip on, someone to hold.

This continued on. In every cry let out, Yelena could’ve sworn each one was louder than the last. She didn’t know what to do so she did the only thing she could and stayed there. After  a particularly loud cry from Y/N, Yelena couldn’t stop a “Natasha!” from escaping.

“I’m trying!” She shouted over the engine and over Y/N, doing her best to blink away the tears and focus, but everytime she was on the brink of it, something tore her away.

After what felt like what could only be described as eons, Natasha managed to touch down in the same spot she had just a day ago. The moment they made contact, she leapt out of her seat, nearly tumbling to the floor, and practically fell against the door.

“Stay with her,” was all she said to Yelena before pushing all her weight against the door and breaking off into a run towards the house.

Natasha had run fast before. To escape Antonia, on countless SHIELD missions, and even to beat Sam in a race, but none amounted to this. The mountains and trees whipped by so fast that she felt like she was in a race car and it made her head spin. Nonetheless (and she thanked her extensive training for that), Natasha’s stamina held out and she ran through the house, tripping over things and knocking others over, until she reached Melina’s office.

At first, everything looked like a normal office space for a normal business woman, but the underlying science and spy secrecy that she knew had to be inside was revealed. Cabinets upon cabinets filled with vials upon vilas and files upon files. She scoured the entire room and nearly dropped the green-filled file when she saw its label. This was it.

A moment of victory passed until Natasha remembered the weight of the situation and she got back on her feet, running like the wind, and leaving behind the office looking like some raccoons had gotten inside.

By the time she reached the top of the hill, Natasha could make out the outline of Yelena carrying Y/N (who was draped over her like a curtain, by the way) toward her.

They met in the middle and Yelena put Y/N down, the older sisters kneeling beside her. Y/N was half-conscious at this point and Natasha moved at the speed of light to get the vial lid off. “She was getting worse, I couldn’t wait!” Yelena yelled.

When she got it open, Natasha pushed it towards Y/N’s lips. “Y/N, honey, c’mon, you gotta drink,” she encouraged, hand trembling as Y/N attempted to fight her off. It was only Yelena running her hands through her hair that calmed her down, and she took a small sip of the vial’s contents at first before gulping it down.

When she stopped squirming and seemed to no longer be in pain, instead falling into a peaceful sleep, that’s when both Natasha and Yelena had calmed down. It had been a rollercoaster, but they did it, and she was okay. The two held each other, relieved.  

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[thefoxandthepenguine]

Flashback (Pt. 5)

Leigh Shaw x Reader

Summary: How Leigh and reader turned from acquaintances to lovers after Matt died (plot based on the original drama).

Pairing: Leigh Shaw x Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angst

Word count: 2.5k

a/n: Well it seems that people love the fluff we had in the last chapter, but guess what! I’m actually a person fond of angst. So...good reading! This is actually a very short chapter and the short series is coming to an end in the next chapter. I hope I can get it done ASAP.

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Spin-off

Part 5

1 years and 5 months ago

Things between Leigh and you might have changed after Christmas. Not much, just a bit.

You still hung out once a week at the donut shop after your workout session. But the place was no longer limited to the donut shop, nor was it restricted to the hour after the session.

You would go to some nice restaurants together. They could be café that Leigh had bookmarked a long time ago but did not have a chance to try before, or they could be recommendations from your colleagues.

You would also go to the theatre together. You figured out that Leigh had a thing for horror movies and yet you love watching superhero movies. And you really wanted to punch her in her face every time she laughed at your pale face after being dragged to watch a horror movie with her. You had to bury your face in Leigh’s neck throughout every movie. But she did not say anything when you did that. She let you.

You still talked about the books that you have read. But you started to share more about yourselves or your everyday life with each other. Sometimes she would just text you to tell you what she ate at lunch, or you would just send her a picture of the puppy you saw on the road.

But you were not dating, at least you kept reminding yourself not to use this term. You did not date Leigh, you just hung out with her.

//

1:09 read

Can I ask you something?

1:17 delivered

It depends.

1:19 read

Just say “yes”.

1:23 delivered

Yes 🙄

1:32 read

It took you 4 minutes to type a “yes”?

You rolled your eyes literally at her words.

1:46 delivered

I’m in the middle of a meeting!

With my boss.

You should be grateful I risked my job to type a “yes” for you.

1:51 read

🙄

What the hell is a primerizer?

1:54 delivered

I'm not google.

1:59 read

Forget that.

I shouldn’t have asked a person who doesn’t know how to wear perfume what a primerizer is.

You thought your eyes hurt by rolling them constantly when a photo of Leigh with blue eyeshadow popped up on the screen.

2:04 read

I think my right eye looks okay but I can’t make the left one match.

And my mum said she won’t go out like this.

What do you think?

THINK TWICE before you answer.

You burst out laughing at the photo. Everyone in the meeting room turned their head and stared at you, including your boss.

You mumbled a “sorry” and bit on your lower lip to stop yourself from laughing again.

You really did risk losing your job to reply to Leigh.

2:18 delivered

You look...good.

2:29 read

I’m going to strangle you to death.

2:37 delivered

I’m sure Drew will do that to you first if you fail to give him the review for his gift.

He complains about you in the office constantly now.

2:41 read

I hate him and the gift so much.

2:56 delivered

Bring them to my place tonight.

We can try to figure that out together LOL

And I’ll try to fix your face even if it's the TOUGHEST job in the world.

3:04 read

Screw you.

The memorial will start in 10 minutes.

See you tonight.

And you just could not hold your smile for the rest of your meeting.

//

Leigh was surprised to see Danny instead of Matt’s mother, Bobby, in the school.

“I thought Bobby’s coming,” Leigh greeted Danny and walked towards him with hesitation. She had not talked much to him for a while and they just had that emoji conversation going so that they would know the other was still surviving, somehow.

“My aunt broke her elbow or ankle so my mum had to accompany her to the hospital. And she made me come here for her.” Danny shrugged, all of his facial and gestural expressions making it very clear that he had no interest in coming to the memorial at all.

“What’s wrong with you?” Leigh glared at Danny.

Couldn’t he just act like a mature grown-up so that they could make it through the memorial together? Just like what a family was supposed to do?

“What’s the point of being here? The students here are obnoxious. They act like they love Matt and enjoy his lessons after he died, but what they did was just being an ass in his class when he was here.” Danny raised his voice and a few students walking by started to look at them and whisper.

“What is your problem Danny? Matt loves...loved his students and his job here.”

That’s why Leigh hated hanging out with Danny. He always had a way to make things much more difficult than they should be.

“No! This place was a pain in the ass for Matt. He always talked about how crazy this school made him. If he could go somewhere else, he’d never stay here.”

“What? Like he told you he’d rather go to Norway instead of going to school?” Leigh scoffed and could feel herself boiling with anger. Staying with Bobby might be a bit awkward, but it was definitely better than staying with Danny.

“Wait...you know that joke about Norway too?”

The tension was gone all of a sudden, and Danny just widened his eyes and looked at her in shock.

“Well...every time when Matt didn’t want to do a thing he’d just say that he had to go to Norway. It’s like an everyday routine.” Leigh lit up when she thought about Matt’s annoying face every time he made that joke.

“He definitely used it on me before he did it on you.” Danny was smiling too, probably thinking of the same thing as Leigh. “Okay maybe you’re right. He may like this job but I’m not taking ‘the students were an ass in his class’ back.”

“He’s a good teacher.”

“Yes he’s.”

Leigh finally smiled at Danny and walked to the classroom together.

Well maybe hanging out with Danny was not as terrible as she had imagined.

//

Leigh was a bit surprised that she could still manage to pull herself together when the teacher and students around her were all talking about Matt.

She hated people for avoiding bringing Matt up when talking to her. Yet she used to find it unbearable when people brought him up in the middle of a conversation at the same time. It was just...uncomfortable for her to share memories about Matt with others, especially with people she was not familiar with.

But she did not feel it that way today.

She was touched to know how much Matt meant to these students in the room. The memorial was voluntary. And Matt must have meant something to them so that these teenagers were willing to spend an hour after school to be here, sharing their thoughts about Matt.

She was proud to know that Matt inspired his students, even though it was just as trivial as inspiring them to like Crime and Punishment.

She smiled and nodded genuinely when the students shared their moments with Matt. Tears swelled up in her eyes and blurred her vision, but they never fell.

There was a hole in her heart where Matt was. The hole was there, and always would be. But maybe she did eventually figure out a way to live with this hole for the rest of her life.

Maybe she was moving on indeed. In her own way.

//

Danny left the school once the memorial ended, grumbling something about getting his bike back from Bobby. Leigh waved him off and decided to stay a bit longer at the school. She never had the chance to know more about this place, the place where Matt worked.

It was probably the last time she would be staying in here, at least in a while. So she did not want to rush things.

Leigh walked closer to take a better look at the mural hanging at the back of the classroom. The students did a great job in turning Matt’s drawing into such an immense masterpiece.

Leigh soon figured out the mural was like a treasure map to what Matt wanted in his life. She grinned at the secret code that Matt embedded in the picture: the Eisner, the Gold Coast and...Pickle.

Pickle Greer.

Their imaginary child. The ridiculous name that they came up with for their nonexistent child.

Matt always said that he was not ready and did not know how to be a father. So they were just messing around with silly names. Leigh never thought he would remember it.

But he did remember it. And he did want it.

Leigh felt something broken in her heart. She tried to move on, to live in a world without Matt.

But all Matt wanted was to have their own child.

How dared she to be so selfish.

//

You looked at your Lock Screen worriedly for any messages from Leigh as your working hour was coming to an end.

The last message you received from her was already two hours ago, and the memorial was supposed to end at four as far as you could remember.

Something was up.

You drummed your fingers on the table restlessly when you tried to call Leigh again. “Pick it up please,” you mumbled.

It went straight to the voice mail.

You could not stand it any longer so you decided to go to your car.

//

Your heart sank when you saw Leigh’s car parking in the school’s car park.

You rushed to take a closer look inside. Leigh was not there, and neither was her purse nor her phone.

You hurried to the front door and tried to get into the school when an old lady stopped you. You guessed she was probably a janitor based on her uniform.

You tried to explain the situation to her but she refused to let you in, saying something about the school being closed and that you should come tomorrow instead.

You were running out of time and patience.

“No! Listen. I’m a friend of Matt’s wife. She came here today for his memorial and I think she’s still here. Look, just lemme go inside and I promise I’ll leave once I find her.”

“No Miss. The memorial ended an hour ag-”

“That’s exactly the problem! Her car is still out there in the car park!” You cut her off and the janitor was stunned to know that.

“Ummm…let me contact the office first and see what we can do.”

This was maddening.

“A woman went missing after attending her husband’s memorial at your school. Are you sure you can take up the responsibility if anything happens and YOU ARE the reason why we can’t reach out to her earlier?”

You seldom made a scene at public places but you were practically shouting at the poor janitor now. You understood she was trying to do her job, but you just could not help yourself.

“Is there anything that I can help?”

A woman walked towards you with furrowed brows. You signed, not being very happy to repeat everything all over again but you still did while the janitor was making her call.

Looked like you could not get into the school in any minute anyway.

“Leigh? I thought she left an hour ago after the memorial ended.”

“You know her?”

“Yes. I’m the one who put the memorial together. By the way, I’m Nina. Leigh said she gotta go soon after the memorial ended.”

“Y/N. We’re supposed to meet after she leaves the school but she’s not answering any calls or replying my text. And her car is still out there.” You gestured your head to the exit and Nina’s brows knitted. “I know the school is closed but I’m worried about Leigh.”

“I understand. Please give me a second.” Nina walked to the janitor and said something to her before coming back to you and gestured to you to follow her. “Do you mind if we exchange the number so that we can let each other know once we find her?”

You nodded and exchanged your phone number with her.

“Let’s split up. I’ll search from the top and you’ll search from the bottom.”

“Thank you for your help, Nina,” you thanked her sincerely before heading in the opposite direction.

“Don’t mention that.”

//

You kept calling Leigh’s number while looking into every single room you passed by, in hopes of locating her by the ringtone, or Leigh picking up the phone.

No such luck.

You turned off the light after searching the last restroom on the second floor when something caught your eye.

There was a phone laying on the floor of the last cubicle, the screen barely lighting up even in the dark.

“Leigh?”

No response.

You turned back on the light and walked closer to the last cubicle. You tried to suppress the shiver but you still found your hands cold and clammy when you pushed open the door.

You let out a sign of relief when you saw Leigh sitting against the toilet, holding her knees to herself with her head burying deep in the knees.

“Leigh…” you lowered yourself to knelt down next to her, your hand stroking her back lightly, “I’m here.”

Leigh raised her head from her knees to look at you. Your heart clenched when she turned her face to you-her eyes swollen from crying and her cheeks were covered with dry tear stains, with makeup all over her face.

You wish you were here earlier for her.

You pressed her head slightly against your shoulder. “I’m here,” you cooed softly at her ear.

You could feel her relax a bit in your arms, dropping her head against your shoulder for a moment. But all of a sudden, she pushed herself backwards abruptly from you.

“I’m sorry. We-I can’t do this.” Her voice was hoarse and cracked, her eyes welled up looking at you.

“That’s okay, we don’t have to do this now. I’ll help you to text Drew or I can try to come up with something about the primeri-”

“No! It’s not about that stupid primerizer! I just can’t do this anymore.” Leigh raised her voice agitatedly.

“What-”

Leigh grabbed her belongings and stormed to the door. You tried to follow and grab her wrists yet she shoved you off with force.

“At least let me drive you home and then I can leave.” Your voice weakened as you looked into Leigh’s face.

Her lower lips were quivering.

“Please...”

That was the moment you knew you had to let her go.

Tag: @madamevirgo @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mionemymind @liver-casserole @sunshine278 @imapotatao @cristin-rjd

Again, I tried to include everyone who has requested a tag for the update. Sorry if I miss anyone and please tell me if you want to be tagged!

[donutloverxo]

Just for Mrs Barber

Note - Written for @chrissquares @drabblewithfrannybarnes and @amythedvdhoarder 's hoelentine's fic swap challenge! My giftee was the beautiful @kaminorogers . I hope you all like it.

Shoutout to beard kinks resident hoe @sweater-daddiesdumbdork for all her help with this and to my dear friend lizzygal (link to ao3) for the beta.

Dividers by @whimsicalrogers.

Summary - Your husband buys you kinky gifts (and a whole ass house) for your anniversary/valentines.

Warnings - 18+ only please! Explicit sexual content, beard kink, bondage, blindfold, dom!Andy.

Pairing - Andy Barber x reader

Word count - 2.6k

You were sure you heard Linda say something, her voice was mixed up in the background noise of everyone chatting and some music. You couldn’t really listen, not when your husband decided that he was going to look that good and distract you, keeping you from being a good hostess.

Andy always looked good. He could roll out of bed and look good enough to eat—although maybe you were a bit biased. He was one of those people who just didn’t realize how handsome he was.

Maybe he had some sort of eyesight problem, because looking at him now. With his hair made up and beard neatly trimmed, wearing a cream sweater and some dark jeans, the whole ensemble was so basic but he pulled it off so well. His pink lips looked so delicious as they sipped on a beer.

“Mrs Barber.”

You gasped when you heard Linda call out to you, clearing your throat you looked back at her. “Yes?”

“I love what you’ve done with the house, it’s so beautiful.”

A genuine smile graced your face as you thanked her. Andy had asked you what you wanted for your first wedding anniversary, you nonchalantly told him that you wanted the most picture perfect and cosy house in the suburbs. That you were too tired of the noise and pollution of the city and longed to have a garden of your own.

Also, a bigger house would be much better if you ever have any youngins. But you didn’t tell him that. Not yet.

You were just being yourself--kind of a spoilt brat. Which shouldn’t have surprised him because he was the one to spoil you with his love and affection and the occasional material gifts.

You absolutely did not expect him to actually buy you a big ass house. It wasn’t too big if you thought about it. Just a master and two smaller bedrooms, which was what you preferred. You didn’t want to have any distance from your husband. Be it physical or emotional.

The backyard was most spacious. You could probably fit a beautiful gazebo there. But you planned on growing your own vegetables and make delicious meals as a thank you to Andy everyday for the rest of your lives. You had put your heart into decorating every single nook and cranny of the house. Having it be appreciated was most flattering.

“Thank you,” you smiled.

“Your husband is so handsome,” she observed and you only hummed as you looked over at him. He most definitely was. “And he helped you with cooking and setting up.”

“Yes, he did. He always helps. He isn’t one for parties but he indulged me by letting me throw this one,” you told her.

Andy wasn’t that enthusiastic about hosting a barbeque for neighbors who were basically still strangers for your anniversary/valentines. He preferred to have you to himself but with some kisses and cuddles, batting your brand-new eyelash extensions, and convincing he finally gave in.

“Mrs Barber,” Linda grinned, putting her hand on your elbow, “You’re drooling.”

“Oh, I am?” you quickly looked over at her, after admiring how perfect your husband’s ass looked in those damn jeans.

“That’s alright, I promise I won’t tell,” she winked, “you’re both so cute.”

You were gushing some more about Andy, how amazing he was and how the honeymoon phase never seemed to end for you both. But you straightened up when you saw him approaching you.

“Honey,” he said, “We’re out of ice.”

“Oh, I thought we had enough... I’m sure we could do without it,” you shrugged.

Andy snaked a hand around your waist, sipping on his beer as he looked down at you, so much more comfortable by your side. He frowned when he heard the guys calling for him, reluctant to leave your side but you nudged him and told him to go socialise.

“I’ll make it worth your while, later tonight,” you whispered to him.

He pressed his lips to your temple, the scratch of his beard against your skin making you gasp. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said against your face which was heating up by his uncharacteristic public display of affection.

After cleaning up you were finally getting ready for bed. Wiping your make up before taking your diamond studs off.

“We made so many friends too,” you wondered out loud. “It was a success in my book! I hope I was a good hostess.”

“Don’t worry, sweetheart, you were. Come here now.” You saw him in your dressing tables mirror, extending an arm to you and inviting you to him.

“Um, well, maybe give me a moment,” you stammered, heat creeping up your neck as you scurried off to the bathroom while he called out for you.

He frowned, you never had any problem changing clothes in front of him or being naked and in so many compromising positions before him, so why now?

“Honey, I appreciate this, I really do, but.. maybe we can just do something else,” he told you, holding onto your hand which was massaging his shoulder and kissing your knuckles. He thought it was nice of you to offer a back rub, after the day he had had he needed it, but he wanted something more than that... “I’m hungry,” he licked his lips.

“I can cook something up for you, a post-dinner snack maybe,” you offered.

“No baby,” he chuckled, “Hungry for YOU.”

He kissed the crook of your neck, sucking on a spot he knew drove you wild but then frowned when he didn’t get the reaction he desired from you, in fact you felt a little... stiff.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” he looked into your eyes.

“I was actually wondering if we could try something new...”

“Like what?” he pouted. He was a bit concerned, whenever you both had tried something new, it didn’t really go well.

There was that time you slipped and sprained your ankle during a very taxing session in the shower, when you surprised him at his office but then you were caught by his assistant—to this day he still can’t look her in the eye, when you insisted on tying him up but he ended up breaking free of the cuffs and spending the night ravaging you instead.

His unenthusiastic response was clearly not what you wanted as you blinked, disappointed evident on your face, “Nothing,” you shook your head, “now, where were we?” a salacious grin on your lips.

He hadn’t really tried to press on to see what your new suggestion was. He knew he wasn’t the most interesting man in the world. He wasn’t always as easy going as you were. How he even managed to get someone like you was something he could never comprehend.

“Are you ready for your surprise, baby,” came your voice from the master bathroom, “Here I come.”

You twirled before him, showing off your brand new fiery red babydoll. Which cost a pretty penny since it was the season of love.

“Whoa, you look gorgeous... what did I ever do to deserve you...” he wondered as his gaze raked you over.

“It’s actually the other way around,” you waved him off, climbing on the bed, “It’s time for your gift, Mr Barber.”

You took the book he was reading from his hands, setting it beside him and he hummed as you kissed his cheek.

“Actually...” he held onto the curve of your hips, squeezing just a little bit.

“Hm?”

“I have a surprise for you, sweetheart.”

That got your attention. You pulled away from his face, your soft lips still tingling from the coarseness of the hair on his face. “Oh?” Your heart fluttering in excitement. “You didn’t have to. You already bought us a home...” You said in a small voice, your fingers playing with the collar of his t-shirt.

“Oh, believe me, honey, it’s not just for you,” he smirked.

You watched, your fingers drumming along your bare thigh in anticipation as he went through his dresser.

“Since you want to try new things,” he said with his back to you, pulling something out of the dresser, “I figured this might be the perfect opportunity.”

You gasped when you saw, what looked like was a red silk tie and a dark blindfold.

“Wow.” Was all you could say. You had tried to get Andy to watch fifty shades with you and while he didn’t really say it, you knew that he wasn’t really into the movie or the kinky sex. He could barely stay down when you used cute pink fluffy handcuffs on him.

“I hope you can be a good girl for me,” his eyes dark as he stalked towards you, “and stay still. You never do... I always have to hold you down so this should make things easier... hands,” he commanded, his authoritative tone leaving no room for disobedience, as you held your hands out for him, gulping a lump of air and watching his hands tie an intricate knot around your wrists.

“It’s soft...” You wiggled your wrists testing the ties strength.

“Of course it is, I want you to be comfortable, princess,” he kissed your forehead, smoothing a hand over your scalp, he looked at the blindfold and then at you, “It’ll be kinda hard for me to not look into your eyes,” his brow furrowed as he put the blindfold over your head, the elastic stretching and then settling behind your ears till you all you could see was black, “Let me know if you need me to stop... or if you need anything.”

“Yes,” you nodded, pouting when you heard him pulling his tshirt off. You were so excited about the dirty sex that you didn’t even think about this--not being able to see Andy naked. You were about to whine about it but he pushed you back till you were lying on the mattress.

“This is all so exciting...” you whispered, having no idea what he was doing or was about to do, if he was looking at you or elsewhere.

“I know, honey, now you just let me take care of you.” You nodded, shivering when you felt the coolness of his wedding band against your thigh, “Sorry baby, are my hands cold?”

“Just a bit...”

You heard him rubbing them together to heat them up for you, before he touched your inner thigh, parting your thighs to make room for him, he pushed your nightie up, exposing your breasts and stiff peaks to him, “So beautiful... and all for me.”

“All for you, Andy,” you tried to close your legs to rub them together, to create some friction to calm the heat between your legs but his hold on you wouldn���t leave you any room to move.

“You need something, honey? You’ll have to use your words to tell me.”

You huffed, although you couldn’t see him you just knew he had a shit eating grin on his face. “Want you to make love to me, Andy,” you fessed up anyway.

“That’s exactly what I’m doing though. This is how I make love, honey,” you gasped as you felt his warm mouth latching on your nipple, his leaking manhood on your thigh.

“Oh...” you tried to arch your back, to pushed more of you into him.

He released your nipple with a pop, “You like that?”

He had never seen you like this, never knew he wanted you like this--so helpless and completely at his mercy. Writhing under him and craving him so badly, snaking a hand between your legs, “You’re so wet, honey,” he observed as he spread your slick around your lips, pulling a desperate whimper from you.

He sucked his fingers clean, you tasted so sweet, like honey.

He pinned your tied hands above your head when you tried to raise them to touch him, “No baby, you know the rules for tonight. I thought you wanted to be my good girl.”

“I do!” you whimpered again, your body shaking and writhing in his hold.

His poor girl, he knew how hard it must be for you. How you were obsessed with his beard. Sometimes He wondered if you loved it more than you loved him. He hadn’t shaved it off since he had met you.

“Then stay still, and you will be rewarded,” he promised you, pushing a finger inside you as he rubbed his beard against your sensitive nipples which seemed to set you off.

“Oh god,” you shrieked but didn’t dare move your arms.

He trailed kisses down your stomach, on your belly button, before settling between your legs and staring at your bare, glistening cunt.

“All this for me?” he wondered again, he didn’t need for you to answer, you were tied up and presented before him, just for him to feast on however he pleased. He sloppily licked as much of your juices as he could.

“All for you...” you shuddered as he rubbed his beard against the skin of your thigh.

Temporarily losing your vision seemed to have heightened everything, was it always so intense when his calloused fingers touched you? When he pushed three of his fingers inside you while whispering the dirtiest things in the world in your ear, rubbing his beard into the crook of your neck till you came around his fingers.

You were still dizzy from your high, you hissed out his name when he pulled his fingers out of you, leaving your cunt so void and empty.

You didn’t have the opportunity to tell him just how amazing that was, “You ready, babe?” You heard him ask as you nodded, his leaking tip against your opening.

He pushed into you, slowly and steadily to draw it out, he always liked taking his time, a woman like you deserved to be treated right. He hovered over you, staring at your face, your sparkling eyes covered by the blindfold, your bottom lip between your teeth, he pulled it out of your mouth with his thumb

“Don’t want you hurting yourself, honey,” he tutted, shaking his head as be sucked on your bruised bottom lip, fully sheathing himself inside you.

You wrapped your legs around his hips, hooking them behind his back, he was so big - the biggest you had ever had and yet it was never enough. Your cunt was greedy. You needed him deep, as deep as he could go. Exploring parts of you no one had seen or touched before. Only he ever would.

His hand circling your hips to pull you up against him as he rocked his hips against yours, “You’re so tight... squeezing me so tight,” he groaned. “You wanna come for me?” He whispered in your ear before nibbling on your earlobe.

“Yes,” you furiously nodded, your orgasm washing over you, dark spots in your vision as you felt your limbs loosen up.

“Hang on for me,” he warned you, holding onto the headboard as he chased his own end.

You sighed, hooking your tied-up hands around his neck as you felt his warm spend fill you up.

“Feels nice,” you mumbled, nuzzling his beard.

He hushed when you whined like the needy little thing that you were as he pulled out of you, untying your bound wrists.

He dimmed the lights before removing your blindfold, “There she is,” he smiled, kissing your temple as you rubbed your eyes. “Did you have fun, honey?” he held onto your chin as he made you turn your head to him, so that he could look into your eyes.

“Mm-hm. We should do this again sometime,” you yawned. You were better at being tied up than him anyway.

“We will. Happy anniversary.”

“Happy Valentine’s.”

Tags will be in the reblog! Comments and reblogs are really appreciated! ❤❤

Please note that my work is not to be reposted or published anywhere other than my Tumblr or AO3 account without my permission. Reblogs are most welcome though!

[emerald-chaos]

Daydream

**gif not mine! credit to the owner**

So, I couldn't help myself. This is a continuation of my previous Bucky fic Insomnia because I just really enjoyed the dynamic between Bucky and the reader. I had a lot of fun writing this part and I love building things up between the two of them. If you guys like this or are interested in seeing more - please let me know! I love talking with people and hearing their ideas and such.

Much love xo.

Pairing: Reader x Bucky Barnes

Word Count: 2079

Warnings: cursing, struggles with mental illness, mentions of sex (nothing entirely explicit but better safe than sorry), alcohol use, and really poorly written jokes lmao

Fingers threaded into hair.

Hot, opened-mouth kisses marking every surface of your neck.

Nails trailing down his back leaving raised, red lines in their wake.

“Oh my god,” you groaned as you let your head fall back and continued to rock your hips into the man in front of you.

Strong hands tighten their hold on your hips, sure to leave purplish-blue bruises for the morning.

“C’mon, baby,” he grunted, face buried in your neck as he helped your body to grind against his, “I got you. Let go, fuck, let go for me.”

A pair of slender fingers snapped in front of your line of sight, tearing you from your daydream and bringing you harshly back to reality.

“Hmm, what was that?” You blinked a few times before you turned your attention to the redhead who you, apparently, had been having a conversation with.

“Are you serious?” She laughed, “I’ve been talking for the past 10 minutes! I looked over and you had that far off, glossy look in your eyes. Not to mention you’re bleeding.”

A hand found its way to your lower lip and you realized she was right. You had been so lost in wet dreamland that you chewed a layer of skin off of your lip. You hoped she didn’t notice the heat rising in your face as you cleared your throat, grabbing a tissue from the coffee table.

“Sorry,” you muttered, pressing the tissue against your injured lip, “guess I got lost in thought.”

“Is it one of those flashbacks again?” She asked kindly, facial expression softening.

You nodded quickly, knowing fully well that the statement was a lie. Your gaze drifted over the woman’s shoulder to the subject of your previous thoughts. It would be easier to explain the common occurrence of your PTSD than it would be to explain that you were reminiscing on the hot, steamy, passionate sex you had the night before.

Bucky was situated across the room, leaning against the counter as he talked to Rogers and Wilson. The unfortunately tight, black, short-sleeve t-shirt he was wearing left nothing to the imagination. It accentuated every muscle of the body you had gotten to know so intimately not more than 10 hours ago. His muscular arms were crossed at his chest and he was sporting his signature scowl. Everything about the sight sent a shiver down your spine. You finally had a taste and you wanted more.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Your friend’s voice gained your attention once more.

A small smile found its way to your lips as you met her gaze again. Apart from Bucky, Nat had always been a good trauma buddy of yours. From the beginning she had been someone you felt like you could confide in and someone who would understand your troubles. Sometimes you wondered if a requirement of joining the avengers was to have a fucked up, tragic backstory.

“I’m okay, Nat.” You reassured, “Just got lost in my head again.”

“Whatever you say. Maybe the party tonight will help you get your mind off of things,” She mused as she pushed herself from the couch to stand up. She paused briefly before she turned to you again, “you are coming, right?”

“Yeah,” you snorted, “Tony actually threatened me if I didn’t go this time, so, I guess I have to.”

After the last party you skipped out on, Tony cornered you in the hallway and gave you quite the interrogation. Then he went on a spiel about how staying in your room all day and all night was bad for you and that if he didn’t know better he would think you weren’t appreciative of what he’d done for you and blah, blah, blah. Tony really was a good person underneath all that hair gel. All he wanted was to help you break out of your shell and give you the family he knew you were lacking. That didn’t mean he couldn’t be a pushy asshole.

“Good, I’ll see you there. I’m sure Barnes will too.” A devilish grin painted her lips as she watched your jaw drop. Before you had a chance to say anything she was off down the hallway.

Fuckin’ Natasha.

*******

A pile of clothes littered your bed as you slipped another dress over your form. Not once in your life had you ever been concerned about what you were wearing or what you looked like, but there was something about tonight that made you want to turn heads. Your eyes raked down your figure as you twisted from side to side, admiring the way the black dress hugged your body in all the right places. Not to mention the thigh high slit in the dress showed off probably the only body part you weren’t self-conscious about. Tony, being the theatrical and over the top man he was, once said that you shouldn’t show up to his parties if you weren’t dressed to court a royal or to bring a man to his knees. Guess you were shooting for the latter.

As you put the finishing touches on your look for the evening, you felt that familiar heavy feeling settling into your chest. Your body always had a tendency to go into fight or flight mode when you became too familiar with anything or anyone. It felt like every fiber in your body was screaming for you to retreat into sweats and stay in your room, to not allow yourself this opportunity to enjoy the people you’d grown so close to. You know what happens when you let people in.

Grief, trauma, coping - it made it really difficult to live a “normal” life. Everyday tasks are daunting, it can be next to impossible to have intimate friendships or relationships, and not to mention the intrusive thoughts that infect your mind on a daily, if not hourly, basis. Here you were, the happiest you’d been in years. You were finally in a place where you felt loved, comfortable, safe - and yet your mind was trying to self-sabotage again.

You took a moment to close your eyes and take several deep breaths. When you opened your eyes you locked eyes with your reflection in the mirror and made a pact with the girl staring back at you. The intrusive thoughts and self-doubt couldn’t continue to have a hold over you anymore. You gave yourself a small smirk and nod as you made the decision to throw caution to the wind and give the party a try. What’s the worst that could happen?

*******

Come to find out, the worst that could happen would be your competitive nature overcoming the rational, thinking part of your brain; which in turn would lead you to enter in a drinking contest. Thankfully a small portion of your pink, smooth brain was still functional enough to tell you when you’d reached your limit. Now you sat comfortably on the couch, legs tucked underneath you as you joyfully watched your friends argue.

“Dr. Banner, my friend, you are one of the most intelligent people I know. However, you are wrong.” Thor stated simply as he finished the rest of his drink.

“Thor, for the last time, water is not wet!” Bruce retorted, throwing his hands up in frustration.

You let out a loud snort before thinking, “Oh yeah, water. I should drink some water.”

Your feet planted themselves on the floor and slipped back into your pair of shoes. As you made your way to the kitchen you were pleasantly surprised by your balance and coordination, considering how much alcohol you’d consumed. Seems that drinking with Thor has done wonders for your tolerance.

While you were busy searching the refrigerator for a bottle of water, you were also oblivious to the soft sound of footsteps coming into the kitchen. After retrieving the beverage, you closed the door and turned to leave. Instead, you turned right into the chest of a figure that was definitely not there a moment ago. You yelped as you clutched a hand over your chest dramatically, your face filled with horror as though you’d just come face to face with the grim reaper.

“Jesus Christ, Barnes!” you scolded.

Bucky was holding his abdomen as he leaned back, consumed with laughter at your reaction. You huffed and wanted to be offended, but he looked so damn cute laughing that you couldn’t help but join him. You pushed his chest playfully and grumped as you hopped up to sit on the counter, opening the water to gulp about half of it down. Bucky couldn’t help but grin at your pouty state as he finished up his laughing fit.

“My apologies, sweets. Didn’t realize I’d be makin’ ya scream twice in one day.” He teased, grinning even wider as he did so.

Your jaw dropped at the comment, quickly looking around to make sure no one else was in the kitchen to hear what he had said. After seeing that the coast was clear you kicked your foot at him out of annoyance, only for his metal hand to catch it smoothly. The two of you locked eyes, motionless for a moment before he moved closer, sliding his hand from your ankle to your thigh. In the moment, you damned yourself for choosing this particular dress. The closer he got, the faster your breathing became. The contrast between his cold embrace and your flushed, warm skin sent a shiver down your spine. Abandoning the water bottle, you ran your hands up his abdomen and chest until they rested on his shoulders. Following a small nudge from his knee, you parted your legs to allow him space to stand between them. The heat in your face at an all time high as he pressed his flesh hand to your cheek.

“Haven’t been able to stop thinkin’ about you.” Bucky whispered as he stroked the apple of your cheek with his thumb. Each word that left his lips had you feeling way more intoxicated than any liquor you’d had all night.

As quickly as it started, his touch was gone and his back was turned as he opened the fridge. Before you had a chance to open your mouth to ask what the hell just happened, Tony was entering into the kitchen.

“Well, well, well. Surprised to see you here, Annie.” Tony beamed as he laid eyes on you.

Yes, Tony had nicknamed you after little orphan Annie. Yes, he also referred to himself lovingly as Daddy Warbucks. Yes, any person in their right mind would probably be offended, but you were just fucked up enough that you found it kind of hilarious.

“Wish I could say that it’s a pleasure, Tony.” You grumped back, upset that you’d been cockblocked and by Tony no less.

“Never lose that spunk, kid.” Tony winked as he turned to see Bucky retreating from the fridge with a beer in hand. “Inspector Gadget! Good to see you too.”

As much as you didn’t want to encourage him, you couldn’t help but laugh. Much to your dismay, Bucky simply raised his bottle to Tony as if to say “cheers” and padded out of the kitchen.

“He has such a way with words.” Tony teased as you rolled your eyes.

A sigh left your lips as you slipped off the counter and back onto the floor, muttering a “goodnight” before leaving the kitchen and heading back to your room. Although you wanted nothing more than to find Bucky and finish what he had started in the kitchen, you came to the conclusion that you were probably too drunk and definitely too tired.

Back in the comfort of your bedroom, you went about your normal nighttime routine. As you exited the bathroom, you couldn’t help but notice a piece of paper that had been slipped beneath your door. Grabbing the paper from the floor and plopping back onto your soft mattress, you opened it to read the note that was scribbled in black ink.

Never got the chance to tell you how gorgeous you looked tonight. Gotta say, I’m a big fan of that dress.

Sweet dreams.

- B.

When you finished the note, it felt as though you were floating on cloud 9. Even when you laid your head down and tried to welcome sleep, Bucky’s words were still replaying in your head over and over again - like they were lyrics to your new favorite song.

Turns out you were down for Bucky Barnes, and you were down bad.

[in-ky]

Hi! I’d love a story about Negan being a serial killer who only kills “bad people” (like in Dexter) and maybe he saves the reader from her ex who’s about to kill her and Negan can save her and takes her in because she’s a mess but she’s actually a killer herself (who kills rapists etc/ only the bad ones) and Negan and the reader start fighting and then get caught up in steamy hot sex 🥵 thank you!

Savior - Negan Killer AU

Warnings: Warnings: GORE + violence, smut, domestic abuse, swearing, dirty talk ig? idk how to tag this lol

A/N: hey! i struggled over this one for a while lol. ive only seen like. 3? episodes of dexter so. i really hope this meets your expectations! also forgive any mistakes its late, im tired, and i wanna get this up lol. also, is negan batman? maybe. 3.7k words

"Will, stop you're hurting me!" I hissed, grabbing at his wrist. He tugged me out of the bustling restaurant and into the dark street.

"I don't really give a shit," He snarled, throwing me into a secluded alleyway a few buildings down from the restaurant. Will had taken me out to a business dinner with his boss in hopes of showing me off and making a good impression. But things didn't quite go according to plan. "You embarrassed me in front of everyone!" He pushed me against the brick wall of the closed department store.

"What was I supposed to do?" I sneered, trying to wiggle away from him "He kept commenting on my body, saying how he wished he could take me home at the end of the night and do all kinds of 'unspeakable things to me'."

"You were just supposed to shut up and take it!" Will said, voice filled with rage "But no, you and your untamable fucking complex just couldn't handle a compliment. You threw your drink in his face! You're lucky he didn't fire me right then and there. You made me look like some pussy who can't control his whore."

"You're an asshole." I shouted, tears welling at the edges of my eyes. Will's face contorted further into a look of pure, unadulterated hatred.

"What the fuck did you just call me?" He seethed, clasping his hand tightly around my throat and constricting his fingers around my airway.

"I said you're an asshole who cares more about his dead-end career than his fucking girlfriend." I croaked. I hated him. I hated him so much. My vision clouded with the combination of disgust, loathing, and lack of oxygen, so I hit him where I knew it hurt. "There's a reason you needed me for arm candy tonight. It's 'cause you're a boring, piece-of-shit, lowlife who has no skill whatsoever. How does it feel knowing you need me to make something of yourself?" With that, he threw me to the ground by my throat. He wasted no time and pinned me to the cold concrete. His knees dug into my shoulders and his hand flew to his back pocket, whipping out the switchblade he carried as a precaution against mugging. My eyes widened as they caught a glint of the moonlight off the sharp knife. He brought the blade up to my throat and slapped me over the cheek harshly with his free hand.

"You better take back those words, bitch," He hissed, pressing the blade into the soft skin of my jugular "or they might just be your last." A dribble of blood ran down my neck with the pressure. Realization flashed through my mind. I could die right then. That could have been my last moment. Was I scared? No. Why wasn't I scared? Maybe it had to do with the shadowy figure that was slowly approaching us from the ally entrance.

There was plenty of time for me to warn Will that someone was coming. But I didn't. Instead, I stayed quiet and watched as the shadow figure pulled Will from my body with ease and tossed him to the side. Everything was kind of a blur. I was still oxygen starved and filled with a whirl-wind of emotion. I heard Will cry out in surprise and indignance. The shadow figure said nothing. It saw the switchblade with a steady line of my blood. It kicked Will in the chest, knocking him to the ground. Then it lifted up a baseball bat over its head and cracked it down over Will's skull. He continued to beat Will until he stopped squirming. The shadow figure paused and swung the bat over his shoulder. I had regained my breath and pushed myself to my elbows. The shadow noticed me moving and took a few heavy steps in my direction. I squirmed away slightly, instincts telling me to get away from the thing that had just pulverized my boyfriend. The shadow entered a stream of moonlight. It was a man. He had peppered hair and a blood-speckled face. He had dark brown eyes and a small smile perched on his lips.

"You okay, sweetheart?" He said. His voice was deep. I was partially surprised. He wasn't a bulky man. He was tall and had a broad frame, but his limbs were long and his body was lithe. He wore a leather jacket and his boots were slick with what I could only assume were Will's brains. I didn't want to look at his bat.

"W-Why did you do that?" I whispered. It was all I could muster.

"He was going to kill you." The man sounded confused, like I was supposed to know who he was and why he saved me.

"You don't know that." My voice was quiet. My eyes were glued to a spot behind the man, unblinking. He let out a throaty chuckle and dropped to a squat, leveling with me.

"Doll, he had a knife pressed to your throat," His words were gentle "Looked like he was gonna fuckin' kill you." He hesitantly reached out two fingers in the direction of my face. I didn't move. He was wearing leather gloves. The ridged fabric ran along my injuries. "Seems like he did some damage before I could step in. Damn. Sorry about that. Listen, I live a few streets down. If you want, I can get you cleaned up."

"Okay," I said softly. I let him help me up to my feet. He guided me along with one arm while holding his bat with the other. As we walked out of the alley I couldn't help but look down at Will, or what remained of him at least. His forehead was split in half, a pool of chunky blood bubbling on the ground. I clenched my jaw and forced myself to swallow the bile that had risen in my throat. And yet, I didn't feel sad. I didn't mourn him. Maybe it was shock, maybe it wasn't. "Thank you?" I murmured, though it was more of a question. The man and I stepped out onto the street and I was grateful there was no one around to see us leaving the scene of a very heinous-looking crime.

"No problem, doll," The man hummed, setting a brisk pace down the sidewalk. "The name's Negan, by the way." Cool. Negan: my Savior.

~~~

"So you're like Batman?" I asked Negan as he dabbed the blood away from my neck. He gave a short chuckle and tore away the sticky part of the band-aid.

"I guess you can say that," he mused, splaying the bandage over the cut the knife had left "but I specifically go for people that I know have hurt others. The baddies, if you will."

"Is that legal?" I tilted my head, crossing my ankles as they dangled over the bathroom counter. My palms were flat on the surface of Negan's marble sink top, fiddling with the wrappers of the medical supplies he had used to clean and bandage my small cuts and bruises.

"I haven't been caught," Negan shrugged "besides, it's less work for the police. They don't have to do any interrogation bullshit or anything. I usually catch people in the act, like tonight. Then I do my thing."

"Do you kill everyone?"

"Only the bad people," He reminded, tossing away a bloody tissue "only people who have hurt others. But, yes, usually the offender ends up on the business end of Lucille over there." He pointed out the door into the living room, where the still-bloody bat rested against a chair. I furrowed my brow.

"Well, doesn't that make you a bad guy?" I pressed. He tapped my knee and I dropped down to the tile floor, tucking my hair behind my ear and gathering some of the scraps.

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you still kill people, right? Even if they're bad? So doesn't that still make you a killer?" Negan was quiet for a minute. "Let's put it this way," I continued "What would you do if you came across someone who was like you; someone who hurt the bad people. Would you still kill them. They're hurting people." Negan took a deep breath and let it out with a contemplative sigh, itching his bearded chin.

"I'm not sure," He mused "I've never really thought about it before. See, I don't consider myself a bad person per say. Yea, what I'm doing might be considered fucked up. But I'm doing it for the right reason. I'm protecting people by attacking their attackers. In the end, someone's saved." He brushed off his hands and led me out of the bathroom, flicking the light off. "Would you rather me not have saved you tonight?"

"No," I said immediately "thank you. Really, thank you. You saved my life. Will is...was...always a dick, but I never thought he'd actually hurt me. I guess that proves people can have a whole bunch of layers." Negan nodded and moved to the kitchen. He raised a bottle of whiskey as an offering. I shook my head but he poured himself a glass.

"I was just doing my job," Negan grinned sympathetically "I'm sorry your boyfriend was an asshole who tried to murder you." I shrugged, amusement in my eyes.

"Eh, it happens to everyone." I smiled as he let out another laugh. I felt as if I shouldn't be laughing, but at the same time, everyone has their own responses to almost getting stabbed to death in an alley. So I let myself have this moment. Besides, Negan was a good guy to be around. He made me feel safe, comfortable, secure. Everything I needed right now. "So, Negan, what do you do? Surely vigilante-ing can't pay well, and this apartment is really nice."

"I'm a retired baseball player," Negan said, sipping his whiskey and settling into one of the armchairs in the living room "Hence the bat."

"Were you any good?" I asked. He let out a loud scoff.

"Was I any good?" He mocked "Sweetheart, I have a whole damn trophy room. I was fucking amazing. I just got old."

"So you're rich with no real job, you kill bad guys, and you have a massive ego," I listed "You really are like Batman, aren't you?"

~~~

Negan let me stay on his couch that night. It was leather, like everything else that man seemed to own, but it was comfortable. I woke up to the smell of bacon filling the air. I groaned and rubbed my fists against my eyes, clearing them of sleep. I stretched my arms above my head in a yawn and rolled off the couch, stumbling into the kitchen. Negan was hunched over the bubbling pan, dodging pellets of grease as they shot up at him.

"Smells good!" I purred, closing my eyes and taking a deep inhale.

"Good," He grumbled "You better fucking enjoy it because I've gotten burned at least three times." I laughed and walked up to him examining the small red patches that dotted his arms.

"You didn't have to make me breakfast you know."

"Yea, but I wanted to make sure you were comfortable," He sighed, turning off the stove and scooping the cooked bacon onto a paper towel. "Besides, I was craving some bacon when I woke up. I haven't had someone to share a meal with in a while."

"Well, if you want, you can come by my house for dinner." I offered, crunching down on a piece of bacon "I've been meaning to whip out the family alfredo recipe for a while, maybe a hot date would give me that incentive." I gave him a playful wink and he chuckled.

"Sure thing, doll," He hummed, putting the pan in the sink "I love me some fucking spaghetti. I'll see you around seven?"

"Sounds good."

~~~

I ran down the sidewalk, chest heaving. There was enough darkness to cover me, but I still kept my head down to prevent recognition. I held my hands close to my stomach, praying that the blood on my fingers wouldn't drip on the pavement and leave a trail. I had been on my way home from the store when I heard some commotion coming from an alley. My first instinct was to run, but then I heard the girl crying for help. Negan came to mind, what he did, how he helped people. I couldn't turn away. I marched down the alley and saw a greasy man pinning a woman to the wall of a building. Flashbacks of the night before hit me like a train. I looked on top of the alley dumpster  and saw a crowbar perched on one of the lids. I grabbed it and stormed up to the man, whacking him upside the head with the weapon. I kicked him to the side and brought the crowbar over my head before swinging it down. It connected with his face in a sickening 'thwack.' I thought of Will. I thought of what might of happened if Negan had never stopped him. I thought of all the times that bastard had gotten drunk and told me I was nothing. I let the rage bubble up and fuel my beating. By the time I was pulled back into the moment, my muscles were screaming, the woman was gone, and the man's face was unrecognizable. I tossed the crowbar into the dumpster and ran back home.

Dried blood is extremely hard to wash off. It sticks to your skin in flakes, creating a pattern of red veins crawling over your hands. Fuck. I scrubbed as hard as I could under the rushing water of the sink, pumping more and more soap into my hand. It was under my fingernails. It was stuck in my palm prints. Shit, did I leave fingerprints at the scene? Would they be coming for me? With a hiss, I rubbed even harder at my skin, small flecks of blood turning the sink water red.

Suddenly, my door opened.

"I'm ready for my s'getties!" Negan boomed with a wide smile. My head whipped around, looking at him with wide eyes. His grin faded and he crossed the room in record time, grabbing my wrists and turning the sink off. "Is this fucking blood?" He snarled, bringing my hands up to my face. I clenched my jaw and dropped my eyes to my feet. "Jesus, who's is it? Answer me!"

"I-I heard someone screaming on the way home," I said quietly, eyes still downcast "I thought I would help..." His jaw went slack and he let go of my hands, running his fingers through his hair.

"Jesus fuck, you can't just go around killing people!"

"Why not?" I snapped, eyes meeting his "You do it all the time? What's the difference? Why can't I help people?"

"Because it...Because you just can't!" Negan growled, shaking his head.

"Why are you so special?" I hissed back, drying my hands off on a towel before tossing it at him "It's not like you can get a permit for fucking murder. Why do you do it, anyways? Is it some perverted thing? Do you get off on saving people from attackers?"

"Watch yourself." Negan warned, eyes darkening.

"Pfft, or what?" I laughed, tossing my head back "What are you gonna do, kill me? I'm not afraid of you, Negan." As soon as the words left my mouth, he charged me. His hand flew to my throat, squeezing my airway lightly. His hips pressed me against the counter. I let out a small gasp when he shoved his face next to mine.

"Oh, but doll, you really fucking should be." He spat, curling his lip "I could snap your neck right here, right now." He gave a small squeeze to emphasize his words. I let out a strangled moan. We both froze. "Are you turned on right now?" He muttered, furrowing his brow. I licked my lips and squirmed in his grip, pressing my thighs together slightly in an effort to alleviate the warm pressure growing in my belly.

"No," I lied, voice weak. A sinister grin curled over the bottom half of his face and he licked his tongue over his teeth.

"And I'm the perv, huh?" He sucked on my earlobe and peppered kisses down my jawline "Sweetheart, tell me, do you want me to fuck that pretty little pussy of yours? Do you want me to make you cum harder than you ever have?" I whimpered at his dirty mouth. "Use your words, doll, or I'll leave right fucking now."

"Y-Yes!" I breathed as Negan's lips sucked on the sweet spot right beneath my ear.

"Yes, what, princess?"

"Yes, I want you to fuck me, please!" I groaned, clawing at his shirt. He let out a short chuckle, muttering something about how needy I was, but I didn't care. Right now, the only thought running through my head was that I needed Negan. I needed all of him. And damn me if I wasn't going to get it.

We clawed at each other's clothes like rabid animals. Once we were completely bare, Negan moved his kisses down my body. His large, calloused hands kneaded my breasts, twisting my nipples between his thumbs. My arms flew around his neck and I dragged my fingernails up his back. He shivered against my touch and slid his hands further down my body. They settled firmly on my hips as he captured my lips in a fervent kiss.

"Fuck, sweetheart," he grunted, pulling back for air. I looked at him. His tawny eyes were now black, pupils far beyond dilated with lust. Both of our lips were swollen and red from the intensity of our kisses. Negan's chest inflated and deflated quickly as his eyes roamed over my body. "You're so damn perfect." I smiled sheepishly and pulled my bottom lip between my teeth, looking up at him through lidded eyes.

"You're not so bad yourself," I reached out my hand and used my pointer finger to draw a line from his collar bone down the center of his chest and through his navel, finally ending right over his pulsing cock. He sucked in a breath as my fingers closed around him. My thumb swept over the hot tip, gathering precum on the pad of my finger and rubbing it around.

"Shit," He hissed as I slowly pumped him "I'm not gonna fucking last if you keep doing that." He gently pried my hand away and took a step closer to me. I could feel his hardened length resting against the inside of my thigh. The thought of him being so close made a burst of heat rush down between my thighs. Negan took a long finger and ran it through my folds, collecting my wetness. I moaned as he teasingly dipped the first knuckle into me. He pulled back and let out a low whistle. "Damn, girl," he chuckled, raising his finger to my face "You're fucking dripping. Who's that for?" His slick-coated fingers glistened in the light of my apartment. I let out a deep groan as he slid them between his lips and sucked.

"You, Negan!" I whimpered, wrapping my legs around his waist "It's all for you." A wolfish grin spread over his features as he tugged me off him and pulled me down off the counter. He spun me around and pressed gently between my shoulder blades until my chest was flat against the cold surface.

"Then if you don't mind," Negan cooed, lining himself up with my entrance "I'm going to take what belongs to me." With that, he slowly pushed into me. I gasped at the stretch, balling my hands into fists as he continued to split me open.

"Fucking shit," he groaned once he bottomed out "you're tight as hell. I bet you've never had a dick as big as mine." He pulled out slightly and I let out a moan at the growing emptiness inside. The moan soon turned to a yelp when he brought down his hand against my ass. The smack was loud and he rubbed the red spot tenderly. "Have you?"

"N-No!" I gasped when he thrusted into me for the first time "Never. Fuck, you feel so good." Negan's thrusts sped up, his hips snapping against my ass in an obscene rhythm. Grunts and moans of pleasure slipped from both of our lips as he plowed unapologetically into me. I could feel every inch of him. He was hitting every spot, dragging against my walls in a sinfully perfect way.

"You're doing so good," He purred, kissing and biting my shoulder "So good for me. You're so perfect." I tossed my head back and he grabbed my chin, tilting my face towards him so he could give me another bruising kiss. I could only keep up for so long, though, and the white bliss of pleasure he was giving me soon became overwhelming. My jaw went slack and my head dropped against the cool tile of the counter in an attempt to ground myself in the moment. "I want you to cum, doll, cum around me. Wanna feel those walls squeeze me." His thrusts were starting to become sloppy and I could tell he was getting to his end. One of his fingers danced down my spine and found its way to my clit. He circled it with just enough pressure to get me to the edge that I was so willing to jump off. "Now." Negan growled. I obeyed, feeling the band in my lower abdomen snapping violently. We reached our releases simultaneously. My walls clenched around him, milking him of every drop. I screwed my eyes shut and screamed his name, holding in a large breath as the world around me spun. Negan eventually pulled himself out and collapsed on top of me. We both were breathing heavily, sweaty bodies entangled as well as we could over a counter. I swallowed, my throat dry from panting through my orgasm. When my eyes fluttered open, I could see Negan's thumb tracing circles over the love bites that were starting to darken on my shoulders.

"Are you going to kill me?" I rasped, running a hand through my wild hair "I guess I'm a bad person now." Negan chuckled, still out of breath.

"I think I'll make an exception," He mused, pressing a sweet kiss to the shell of my ear "I don't think I'm ready to let you go just yet."

[butwhyduh]

Night Swim

Garth of Shayeris/Tempest x batsis!reader

Summary: pinning over him. I know like 7 people will read it but he’s too cute. Canon has no home here and timelines don’t matter.

Warning: dash of innuendos.

The apprentice of a justice league member that went on his own. That could describe almost all of your brothers but it also described the beautiful man standing before you. That currently didn’t even notice you were staring at him puppy dog eyed.

“So, are you ever going to do anything about it or just stare at him until he jumps back in the sea again,” Kori said beside you. You jumped and gave her a look. “Noise cancelling glass. He can’t hear us and no one is looking over here,” she reassured you.

“That obvious,” you asked turning to face her. She nodded with a little smile. Of course she thought it was cute. She had told Dick the first time she knew she was attracted to him. That’s how she was raised. No fear of rejection or shame in sexual attraction. You were raised by batman and had a healthy dose of both.

“There’s not like it would do any good. He’s never given me a second thought and I don’t even think he likes surface walkers anyways,” you deflected. She snorted.

“He dated Donna.”

“That shouldn’t count. She’s Themyscirian. They’re like perfect,” you rolled your eyes.

“I don’t know. I find Dick very appealing and he is human. Is his powers what attracts you to him?” She asked leaning on a desk. Her long curly red hair flowed over her shoulder in a way that only Kori could.

“No, of course not. I mean, they’re cool for sure. But it’s.. he’s nice and honorable and funny,” you said and she grinned almost proudly.

“And you can be nice and honorable and funny without any meta powers. Don’t put yourself down. And if you need help..” she started.

“No no no. No wing woman,” you said quickly.

“What do you need a wing woman for?” Dick asked behind you. Your eyes widened before you turned around.

“Nothing. Just some guy from college. That I don’t like,” you said in possibly the worst lie of your life. Dick narrowed his eyes at you.

“I can tell you’re lying but if I don’t know the truth, I can’t lie to Bruce about what you’re doing so don’t tell me,” Dick said. Wally, Donna, and Garth walked in the room.

“Wait, did I hear that Nightwing’s little sister is seeing someone? Is he ready to die,” Wally laughed clapping Dick on the shoulder.

“I’m not having this conversation,” you squeaked out before squeezing between the heroes, feeling yourself far too close to Garth for just a moment. Thank goodness M’gann wasn’t there to read your thoughts or feelings. Kori stayed mum on the subject and concentrated on the mission that Dick was prepping the team for.

You didn’t go on missions now. An injury that put an end to that. You just couldn’t maintain the level a vigilante needed. Sometimes you’d help with the computers but mainly you worked at Wayne Enterprise with Tim. You were just visiting on this trip and wasn’t involved in the mission.

“Wish us luck,” Kori said giving you a hug. You couldn’t help but watch Garth in his new blue suit that fit perfectly as the rest of the team walked by.

“Woah,” you said barely above silent but Kori hugging you caught it all and giggled quietly. You flushed and tried to stutter out some excuse.

“He is very handsome. Wish him luck,” she whispered in your ear. You made a little noise to disagree and she simply grinned at you while walking away.

“What was that,” Dick asked, suspicious.

“Nothing, just a joke. Good luck. Be safe,” you said to him and Dick didn’t argue but definitely didn’t believe you before joining his team.

As they left, your mind wandered to the first time you met Garth. It was a mission in a warehouse fire that had homeless people camping out on the second story. You walked carefully to the back office through dense fog with flames threatening any moment to see if there was anyone in there. The fire was getting really close and it was kinda dicey. But it was your first job away from Gotham and you were 14 and you felt the need to prove yourself.

You entered the room bent low with smoke overhead. You saw something move in the back of the room and you made your way towards it. But just as you crossed to the back half of the room, part of the ceiling collapsed, trapping you in the room and knocking you to the floor. You jumped back against the wall. There wasn’t a window and the movement? A toy.

You shrank against the wall and pushed your panic button. The fire was hot and you cursed wearing shorts. “Shit,” you breathed as it started moving closer. The air was starting to get thick. The flames jumped and you pressed against the wall with your eyes covered, expecting flames to hit you.

But instead you felt cool wet air and you opened your eyes to see water surrounding you. It appeared to float in air and you reached a hand out to touch it, confused. As soon as you felt the tips of your fingers dampened, the water crashed to the floor causing you to jump.

In there place was a teenage boy only a few years older than you, grinning. You stared at him in silence. He had just saved your life.

“Did you- how did you-“ you stuttered and his smile grew even wider.

“Aqualad, at your service. You wanna leave before it crashes on us?” He said and you took a step to wince in pain. Oh yeah, when you jumped you twisted your ankle. Your plan, like all the other bats, was to suck it up and hobble out. But Garth had other plans and he quickly scooped you up bridal style as soon as he noticed you couldn’t walk.

“Just hold on. I’ll carry you,” he said walked down the charred stairs carefully. You couldn’t take your eyes off his handsome face the whole time. Your heart pounded and your lack of experience with dating or liking anyone had you completely dumbfounded. “You can let go,” he said with a little smile.

You were out of the warehouse clinging to him past the time necessary and quickly moved away from him, feeling your skin flush. Dick gave you a look over before give Garth with a look you couldn’t recognize.

——————————————

“She’s catatonic, Bro.”

“Feed her something.”

“Wally, food isn’t always the answer,” Dick said giving your shoulder a shake. You jumped and knocked over a glass of water.

“Sorry!” You yelped reaching over to grab a towel.

“I’ve got it,” Garth said and with a flick of his wrist the water started to pour in the sink rather than off the counter. As you watched the water jumped before flowing down the drain. You laughed a little and looked up to see Garth grinning at you. Dick stared suspiciously at you both before being pulled somewhere by another Titan.

“So was the mission okay?” You asked, not knowing what to say. Your crush was more ‘stare across the room’ rather than do anything about it.

“It went well,” he answered grabbing a water bottle and chugging it. You tried not to stare.

“Cool suit,” you said and immediately felt stupid. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand.

“Thanks,” he said without adding anything else, leaving an awkward air to hang.

“Damn, you might be from the sea but are soo dry, Garth,” Roy said clapping him on the back on his way to his room. Garth looked at you confused.

“It’s been awhile since I’ve been land side. Is being dry an insult now?” He asked.

“I mean, kinda. It just means boring,” you answered with a shrug. “You know Roy.”

“But you are dry. I mean, you live on land. Not that you’re boring,” he said with an awkward laugh. You smiled back at him before taking a sip of your drink nervously. “Does that mean you want to be wet?”

You coughed as you choked on the liquid. He tapped you on the back. “You okay?” He asked concerned. Donna walked by with a raised eyebrow but said nothing.

“I’m fine. No, that’s not how that works. It’s just we aren’t really dry. We’re like 80 percent water. Dry means like sand or something. Too dry,” you said and he nodded humoring you.

“It seems pretty dry here,” he said playfully.

“I can knock over more glasses. Get this place all wet again,” you quipped.

“Tempting. Or you can go swimming with me,” he answered back.

“Haha or I could- what? It’s nighttime,” you answered. “And doesn’t that do something to the currents or something?”

He gave you a dry look. “The currents come in at night? Yep. You’d be the safest person in the water swimming with me. I could navigate night swimming as a squirt. Come with?” Garth asked.

“I-“ you stared before mumbling.

“You what? I didn’t hear the last part,” he said.

“I... can’t swim,” you said and he stared at you and you felt like sliding under the counter and through the floor. Then Garth’s lips curled into a smile and he laughed a little. You looked down awkwardly.

“Oh you’re serious?”

“Yeah...”

“I’m sorry. I forget that swimming is learned skill here. I apologize,” he started.

“It’s okay. Really,” you insisted.

“Come with me. We’ll stay shallow,” he offered. You looked at him before nodding.

“This is a bad idea but let’s go,” you said pulling him along. Garth laughed as you pulled him out the back door towards the beach. “I forgot a bathing suit,” you admitted.

“I guess you could go insi-“ he trailed off as you pulled your shirt off and shorts to swim in your underwear and bra. He quickly looked away as you ran in the water to your waist.

“Coming in? Can’t believe I have to ask, merman” you said and he pulled off his shirt to quickly join you. You splashed him with water which quickly turned into a splashing war.

“Okay, you win!” You yelped as he bombarded you with water. He splashed you one last time and you turned away. Garth grabbed you by the waist as a wave splashed over you. You simply watched each other for a moment. You noticed your feet didn’t touch the ground anymore. You clung to him.

“I can’t touch,” you said a little panicky. He held on to you.

“Don’t worry. I’m right here. I won’t let you drown. It’s my job, remember?” Garth smiled. “Look around. Look at the moon.”

You looked up to see the luminous globe hanging above the sea. It lit a silvery path through the water, highlighting waves crashing. The beach seemed far away. The only sounds were the sea and a few night birds as well as Garth’s breath from being so close. You looked back at him and almost froze. He was gorgeous. The water truly was his element. His dark hair curled in the water and the moon glow highlighted his nose and collarbones. His purple eyes looked almost black in the darkness but the way he looked at you said a ton.

He looked down at your lips and you couldn’t help but lick them, tasting salt water. Garth bent a little and you turned your head up to touch lips softly. His arms wrapped closer around you as you kissed. Garth easily kept you above the water. Your brain was broken. You were kissing Garth, who you’ve had a crush on for a long time.

Suddenly water splashed over your head as a wave crashed on you both. You leaned away with a cough as water invaded your mouth and nose. Your eyes stung and watered a little.

“Sorry, I forgot to pay attention,” Garth admitted sheepishly.

“It’s okay,” you said with only a little cough. “Can we?”

“Get you on land? Yeah. You’re getting cold anyways,” Garth said before swimming towards the shore. It wasn’t a rough choppy swim the way people did. He seemed to simply glide through the water gracefully. So beautifully. Which was broken when he fell over on the beach.

“You’re the most graceful swimmer and trip on your feet when you hit ground,” you said with a laugh as you attempted to help him up. He was far too heavy to lift but appreciated the effort.

“Atlantean,” he shrugged. “Don’t make fun of me too much. You can’t even swim.”

“Yeah? You wanna take a dip in Gotham Harbor?” You asked and he laughed.

“Absolutely not. I don’t want to get some unknown cancer from whatever pollution they have. Or whatever rouge is living there,” he added.

“That’s why I can’t swim,” you answered. It really was cool in the wind and you quickly pulled on your clothing.

“But doesn’t batman have like multiple pools?”

“Yeah but I never used them. I was 15 when he took me in. Too old to learn,” you shrugged.

“You’re never to old to learn to swim. It’s important for safety,” Garth said. “Especially here,” he motioned at the beach.

“Especially if I keep kissing Tempest in the water?” You quipped.

“That’s just a bonus,” he said pulling you close by the hips. You grinned up at him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders.

And a spotlight shined glaringly at you both. You covered your eyes and looked away.

“Come inside,” boomed the voice of your brother. “Now.”

And that’s how you got a 20 minute lectures on the danger of night swimming and risk of hypothermia and Garth got the shovel talk. But despite the fact that Dick was really angry, you didn’t regret a thing and went to bed with wet hair and smile on your face.

[homoose]

Weird is Good

Summary: A story about two people tryna make it through the age of COVID-19 in a country where people are fucking dumb lmao. My hc is that Spencer would be like wtf at all these science-denying anti-maskers. Also, two teachers just tryna make it through quarantine and remote teaching in a one bedroom apartment (this is taking place during a mandatory leave/lecture cycle).

Pairing: Spencer Reid x fem!reader

Category: fluff

Warnings/Includes: no warnings. reader is both a kindergarten teacher and a bruh girl with a pirate’s mouth. lots of Spencer x factz.

Word count: 3.1k

———

“We’re home for the next two weeks. ”

Spencer looked up from his desk to see Y/N kicking off her shoes, dropping her bag, and walking directly to the sink. “Starting when?”

“We get to go in on Monday to say goodbye to the kids and get any materials we might need. Then we’re home for two weeks. They’re calling it an early, extended spring break.” Y/N began her hand washing routine. As a kindergarten teacher, she’d always been a strict hand-washer. In the time of COVID, she had only become more zealous. She looked at Spencer. “Have you heard anything?”

“Since we’re so close to the end of the semester, the department head thinks they’ll try to finish out the year as normal.” He set down his pen. “I honestly don’t know. It will all depend on whether people follow the CDC guidelines. The spread of any virus is deducible mathematically, and SARS-COV2 is no different. Based on the outbreak in Italy prior to their lockdown, we can accurately describe its reproductive number, or Rt, to between 2.43 – 3.10.”

Y/N shut off the water and dried her hands on a paper towel. “In layman's terms, Dr. Reid.”

“The Rt tells how many people are infected by the contagious host,” he explained. “In the case of this strain, each infected person is infecting between two and three others. For comparison, the standard seasonal flu has an average Rt between 1.4 and 1.7.”

“So in other words, fucking yikes,” Y/N groaned. She moved to perch on the edge of Spencer’s desk.

“Indeed,” Spencer agreed. “We know how fast the flu can travel through an office or a classroom, so imagine if it was two times as transmissible. But it's also really important to understand that this number changes depending on the mitigations in place. Even prior to full lockdown, mask wearing and social distancing was somewhat common in Italy, so it’s likely the uncontrolled Rt is higher.”

“Jesus Christ.” Y/N scrubbed a hand over her face. “We’ll probably never go back.”

Spencer rubbed his hand up from her ankle to the inside of her knee. “The good news is there’s nothing special about this virus compared to others in terms of how it spreads— it’s just aerosols. So if everyone wears their mask, we’ll be able to keep the spread low.”

⧭⧭⧭

“It’s safe to say that everyone did not wear their fucking masks,” Y/N snapped. She watched from the couch as Mayor Bowser delivered the news that DC Public Schools would remain closed for the remainder of the year. “This is crazy. I mean, I knew it was coming because people in this country are absolute buffoons.” She looked at Spencer, fingers pressed to her temple. “But holy shit, are we ever going to be able to go outside again?”

“With schools and universities closed, people working remotely, and lockdown orders in place, the Rt in the US could stay low. But masks have to be worn at all times, and social distancing has to be strictly followed.” Spencer pushed his glasses up the bridge of his nose. “I just— I can’t believe people are refusing to wear masks. The empirical, peer-reviewed data clearly shows—”

“This is ‘Murica, boy.” Y/N mocked. “Ain’t no tyrannical government gonna tell me what to do!” She rolled her eyes. “Trust me, your choice to abstain from social media is paying dividends to your sanity right now.”

Spencer looked truly dumbfounded, setting his newspaper down in his lap. “But that’s just it. It’s not just in social media circles.” He gestured to the article in front of him. “This economist just argued for ‘reopening’ the economy using the justification of herd immunity. Herd immunity can be a plausible option for less lethal diseases. But this virus is not like varicella—the chickenpox,” he clarified at Y/N’s raised eyebrow. He waved his hands around in exasperation. “Putting aside the fact that one facet of herd immunity is vaccinating as many people as possible, its success completely hinges on the Rt of a disease. If you model a population based on an Rt of 2.5, herd immunity wouldn’t be achieved until approximately sixty percent of the population has been infected. Consider that the US population is currently 328 million, and sixty percent of that is 196.8 million. The current mortality rate for SARS-COV2 is 3.06 percent. 196,800,000 multiplied by 0.0306 is 6,022,080. Over six million people would die. It's simple mathematics.”

Y/N let out an exasperated breath. “It used to be that simple math and facts were enough. Now you’ve got basement scientists who think they know better than actual, literal scientists who’ve spent their entire lives studying these things.” She ran a hand over her face and gestured at the news conference still playing. “How long do you think it’ll be before we’re both trying to teach from this tiny ass living room?”

⧭⧭⧭

“Goooooooood morning, kindergarten! It’s Friday, and no Friday is a bad Friday!” Spencer smiled. As he poured his first cup of coffee, he hummed along with Y/N and 23 six-year-olds as they sang their morning song. Observing fourteen days of remote kindergarten from across the living room had given Spencer a new appreciation for elementary school teachers, particularly Y/N. She sang, danced, conducted science experiments, held puppet shows, read stories, led art projects, and fielded questions for four hours a day— three hours less than when they were in the school building. He was exhausted by proxy.

But he was also grateful for the opportunity to watch Y/N in her element. Even though they were at home, she still got dressed every day in bright, patterned sweaters and dresses— her Ms. Frizzle attire, she’d told him once. She was able to channel her personality into a kid-friendly version that her students clearly adored, never afraid to be silly or strange to get their attention and keep them engaged during the long days. He worked from home whenever possible, strangely happy to have the background noise of kindergarten over his quiet university office.

...

“Okay, but where do I put the biiiiiiiiiiiig number?” Y/N made a wide gesture with her arms. “Ariah, where should I put it? In the big box, yes! But oh no, my small number needs a friend. My three is soooooo lonely!” Y/N drew her mouth into a pout. “DJ, how can I help my three not be so sad? You’re absolutely right, let’s put that two right next to him in our number bond.”

…

“I’ve been waitin’  for a girl to mute,” Y/N sang into the gold karaoke mic. “I said, muuuuuuuuuute, I’m blinded by loud sounds. No, I can’t hear the friend who’s tryin’ to talk.”

…

“Oh boy. Kev, honey, we can— we can see you. Kevin, Kevin, Kevin. We can see all of you. I can’t turn your camera off, buddy. You gotta— there we go.”

…

“Mute please, I need— I need everybody to mute, please. Oh my goodness where is that music coming from?” Y/N frantically searched for her index card with the picture of the mute icon, as the sounds of a highly inappropriate song blared through the computer speaker. “I know it’s so loud, guys. Why is my mute power gone?! This is why we need to make sure we keep our mute button on, kindergarten.”

…

“No sweetie, it’s not time to log off yet. I’m sorry, I know it’s such a long day. We have about an hour left. Do you guys wanna do a countdown? It’s the fin-al count-down! Do-do doo dooooo. Do-do-d-do-dooo…”

…

“Annnnnd, I should see all my friends on mute. William, hang on just a second. All my friends need to look at my picture, it’s an oval with a line through it… Okay, William, what did you bring to show us?” Y/N leaned toward the computer screen. “Grandma Kathy? O-oh, she’s— she’s in the—“ Y/N’s eyes widened. “Is that— is that an urn? Oh wow. Um, well, wow. It’s beautiful. Thank you so much for sharing that with us, William. Grandma Kathy, may she rest in peace.”

⧭⧭⧭

A week into Y/N teaching kindergarten from their living room, the university had announced its transition to online coursework for the remainder of the academic year. Spencer had to host his first zoom lecture, and he was absolutely dreading it.

“Spence, it’s going to be fine. It’s not like you’ve never been on a video conference,” Y/N assured him. She sat cross-legged on the couch, waiting for him to let her in to his practice zoom.

“Yeah, but I wasn’t running those meetings. I just showed up.” He squinted at the computer screen. “Are you in?”

Y/N barely resisted the urge to make a joke, knowing that Spencer probably wouldn’t appreciate the innuendo. “No, you have to admit me.”

“What do you mean? How do I do that?”

“There should be a box with a button that says admit.”

Spencer gestured at the computer. “Well there’s a bunch of boxes— which one should I be looking at?”

Y/N sighed and got up from the couch. “IQ of 187 and can’t find the box.”

Spencer dragged a hand through his hair. “I know I shouldn’t find this so difficult. I’m sorry you have to waste your time on this.”

“Hey, it was a joke.” Y/N grabbed his hand from where he was frustratedly pulling on his frazzled curls. “I’m sorry. That was mean and you’re already stressed enough.” She used her free hand to smooth his hair back into place. She scrunched her nose. “I love you and your limited technology skills. And honestly it’s kind of nice to have one thing I can actually teach you about.” She squeezed his hand, leaning over him to peer at his computer screen. “All right, let’s find that elusive admit button.”

When the day of his lecture rolled around, Spencer thanked all the atoms in the observable universe that Y/N had a break during his class. Within the first ten minutes, he’d managed to accidentally kick himself out of his own meeting and then somehow lose track of the screenshare button.

“No one can see me and I don’t know what happened to the screenshare option. It was there and now it’s just… gone,” he told Y/N.

She leaned over his desk, eyes tracking over the screen and mouse clicking around the desktop. “How in the world did you manage to block your camera?”

“I don’t know! I didn’t even touch it!” He pinched the bridge of his nose. “I don’t understand how it’s even possible to be this bad at this.”

Y/N bumped his knee with her own, pulling up his camera settings and preferences. “Relax. You can’t be good at everything. It’s a refreshing reminder that you’re a mere mortal like the rest of us.” With a few rapid clicks, Y/N unblocked his camera and located the screenshare bar. “There. Crisis averted. I’m just going to share your whole screen in case you want to toggle between application windows. So just be aware that they’ll be able to see everything. And then you just click here when you’re ready to stop sharing.”

When Y/N turned her head toward him to check that he understood, Spencer grabbed the side of her face and caught her lips in a kiss. Y/N smiled against his mouth, heart speeding up as he traced the seam of her mouth with his tongue.

“Um, Dr. Reid? Your um— your camera’s working now.”

Spencer nearly fell out of his chair, his cheeks about the color of the Leave Meeting icon. Y/N dropped her head, debating whether she wanted to laugh or let the earth open up and swallow her whole. She ultimately decided to compose herself, stepping back and giving a little wave to the sea of tiny, grinning zoom faces before slinking out of frame, miming sorry to one very mortified professor.

⧭⧭⧭

“Would you want to be our mystery reader next week?” Y/N asked, bookmarking the page of her novel and reclining back in bed. “You just have to pick a story to read. Oh, and think of four clues about your identity to give the kiddos.”

Spencer raised his eyebrow, continuing to read. “Any story?”

Y/N laughed. “Well they’re six, so maybe hold off on the Chaucer and Bradbury for now. A picture book would be preferable.”

“Did you know that the first picture book, Orbis Sensualium Pictus, or Visible World in Pictures, was published in 1658?” He looked up from his own book. “Czech educator John Amos Comenius wanted to create a book that would be accessible to children of all levels of ability. The educational theories he explored are actually still in practice in the field of early childhood education.” He turned toward her from his spot under the covers. “For example, when you have your students make a hissing sound and slither their arms when they produce the sound represented by the letter s? Comenius included an alphabet chart with various animal and human sounds representing each letter. He wanted to demonstrate that the incorporation of multiple senses could help increase learning.”

“I guess you don’t fix what isn’t broken,” Y/N mused. “300 years later, and we’re still using the same methods.”

“362, actually,” Spencer corrected.

She gave him a look. “Maybe we can save the Comenius for another time.”

“The genre of children’s literature encompasses some of the most profound and philosophical story telling of all time.” Spencer returned his attention to his reading.

“...So is that a yes?”

Spencer smiled. “I’ve got a book in mind.”

“And clues,” Y/N reminded him, snuggling down under the covers and reopening her book. “We need some fun clues, mystery reader.”

…

“Kindergarten, we have a very special mystery reader this week. Oh man, are you ready for the first clue? The mystery reader loves jell-o! Raise your little hand if you love jell-o, too. Okay, kindergarten, I see you! Lots of jell-o lovers in the house.”

…

“Okay, clue number two! Our mystery reader works as a community helper— remember we learned about all different kinds of community helpers; firefighters, nurses, police officers. But if the mystery reader could be anything, they’d want to be a cowboy! How cool is that?”

...

“Clue number three for our mystery reader!” Y/N sucked in a gasp. “You guys. The mystery reader can do magic. Oh my goodness, I am so excited for Friday,” she sing-songed. “Will they show us a trick? Hmmm, I don’t know. Maybe if you ask nicely.”

…

“Okay, my friends, the last clue. The mystery reader loves reading. They read every day, and they’ve been reading since 1983! Yes, that was a very long time ago.”

⧭⧭⧭

“Okay, any last guesses about who our mystery reader might be?” Y/N questioned.

“I think it’s your dad,” a little voice called out.

Spencer made a choking noise from where he sat, slightly off camera. Y/N laughed. “The mystery reader is decidedly not my dad, Keyshon. Remember I showed you guys the picture of him— my dad’s a farmer, so he’s kind of already a cowboy.” She clapped her hands together. “Okay, without further ado, drumroll please... Our mystery reader is…” Y/N pushed her desk chair out of frame to allow Spencer to roll in, holding her hands out. “Spencer!”

He gave a little wave, smoothing his hair, suddenly painfully self-aware and nervous about the opinions of two dozen six-year-olds. “Hi guys.”

“You’re the boy on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone.”

“Your hair is so fluffy!”

“Do you have a cowboy hat?”

“I like your sweater.”

“Can you really do magic?”

“What’s your favorite jell-o?”

“Whoa, okay, let’s remember our mute button,” Y/N, holding up her index card. “I promise you’ll get to ask Spencer all your questions after he reads the story.”

Spencer smiled at the excited faces beaming through the screen. “Yes, I’m on Ms. Y/L/N’s phone; I don’t own a cowboy hat, yet; yes, I really can do magic; and the red jell-o is my favorite.”

Y/N watched with interest as Spencer pulled out his book. He’d been secretive about his choice, so she was as curious as her students.

“This is one of my favorite stories. It’s written by Munro Leaf, and illustrated by Robert Lawson. It’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer held the cover up to the camera. “Ferdinand is the bull here on the cover. This story was written in 1935, which was a long time ago! Okay are you ready?” Spencer looked out on a sea of thumbs up, turning the page to the beginning of the story. “Once upon a time in Spain, there was a bull, and his name was Ferdinand.”

Y/N smiled as she listened to Spencer read each page, recounting the story of the peaceful bull. He was an excellent storyteller, changing the inflection and expression of his voice to match each sentence. He held each page up for just the right amount of time, panning it so her students could see each detail of the black and white pictures. He added his own wonderings and exclamations here and there, and her students were decidedly enthralled. Her heart ached at how comfortable he was, how natural this was for him. She rested her chin in her hand, trying to keep her mind in the present— ignoring the persistent little mental image of Spencer as a dad.

“So they had to take Ferdinand home. And for all I know, he is sitting there still, under his favorite cork tree, smelling the flowers just quietly. He is very happy… And that’s The Story of Ferdinand.” Spencer closed the book with a soft smile. “I love this story. Ferdinand is a very special bull. What do you think makes him so special?”

“Ferdinand didn’t fight,” a little voice piped up.

“Yes!” Spencer agreed. “He practiced pacifism in the face of the persistent, ingrained militarism of his country’s culture.”

Y/N placed a hand on Spencer’s knee and gave a quick squeeze. “Right, Ferdinand chose not to fight, even though everybody else he knew wanted to.” Y/N winked at him before turning back to the screen full of kids. “All his friends thought he was kind of weird, but he just really wanted to hang out in the shade and smell the flowers, huh? Sounds pretty good to me.”

“He wasn’t bothered that the other bulls thought he was strange for wanting to be peaceful,” Spencer added. “Sometimes being different can be a good thing. The Story of Ferdinand reminds me that it’s okay to be yourself, even if other people think you’re weird.” His eyes met Y/N’s. “Because there will always be people who love and appreciate you for who you are.”

[lustbile]

What Are The Odds?

JungwooxReader

Word Count: 2.8k

Warnings: semi public (restroom) penetrative. some grabbing and groping @ the beginning.

Note: if you’ve never played what are the odds here’s a very brief explanation. Person A wants something from person B. Person A asks what are the odds, person B says a number, for example 25. Both person A and B say a number between one and the given number and if they both say the same number person A wins. I know some people do extra rules sometimes including numbers divisible by 2 or something idk but i don’t care. 💜

Nct Masterlists

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“Jungwoo, get your hand out of my pants.”

It was a harsh command, your words coming out quiet but sharp as you spoke through your teeth. Your less than forceful grip wraps around his wrist, and your foggy mind weakens the way you push at his wandering hands.

“You’re not wearing any pants,” he counters, far too serious for your liking and his greedy fingers desperately trying to dig deeper into your underwear shamelessly.

“Oh so a skirt gives you permission to be a pervert,” you swat at his hands again, huffing and pinching his skin as you turn every direction in search of your friends coming back, “they’re going to be back literally any second so can you please behave?”

—

—

“You’re no fun,” he finally obliges, his tone completely joking as he accepts defeat but not before pinching the skin of your belly in retaliation, “if they walk over and my hand is in your underwear, I think that’s their fault for being friends with us.”

Exactly on the queue of your hand connecting with his shoulder in an annoyed wack, you see your friends returning to the food court table you two sit at, completely oblivious smiles on their faces as they balance trays of food.

——

“What are the odds?”

“Hrm?” a small sound of confusion slipping out from around the mouth full of food you’re struggling to chew.

It was a small lull in conversation and everyone started to trickle into their own side conversations that had prompted Jungwoo to lean over and breath hotly against your ear with the sudden and confusing question. He had an issue with bringing you into the middle of a conversation that he had started only in his head, luckily for him you had a tendency to find it a bit charming, but at the moment your mind was occupied on willing yourself not to choke.

“What are the odds,” he speaks slower this time, as if a change in pace adds any context in the slightest. You finally look more at him, and notice that he’s all twitchy where he sits, his hands wringing together as he seems anxious and giddy for something to happen, “that you follow me to the bathroom right now.”

“For what?” you ask with a faux ignorance, only partially hoping it’s not for the reason you’re thinking.

“What do you mean for what?” he asks a bit louder than he probably intended, pulling the attention of one of your friends momentarily, but an eye roll and a shake of the head from you perfectly portrays ‘don’t worry, Jungwoo is just being Jungwoo.’

“You know exactly for what,” he speaks in a tone that makes you feel like you’re being scolded, but after a rough swallow, you can only smile at his dramatics, “so what are the odds?”

You huff quietly, dropping your fork clattering onto your plate to add dramatics, your bottom lip becoming your own personal chew toy as you glance around the relatively empty food court and preoccupied friends.

“Fifteen,” you finally respond after a moment of him doing nothing but glaring at you in anticipation. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t want to follow him and cause some chaos, but you feared saying ten would look too eager, and twenty just left more of a chance of it not happening than you wanted. Yes, you wanted to leave it to fate, but there’s nothing wrong with manipulating fate just a little.

“Fifteen,” he confirms with a grin, his legs wiggling beneath the table as he turns to face you more, his shoulders slouching and his eyes widening as he waits for your completely undivided attention to lay on him before counting down.

“Three, two, one....”

“Eleven.”

It’s in their air, same word, same number, but two different voices speak it. With a sinking heart, but warming belly, you throw your head back with a sigh when you realize he’s won.

“Excuse is up to you, since you’re such shit at what are the odds,” he taunts, only one dial of annoying away from calling you a nerd and taking your lunch money, “but you better be in the single person bathroom in ten minutes or you’re in trouble.”

He stands, giving some unnecessarily detailed explanation about where he was going before tripping over his feet towards the bathroom he’s been eyeing since the idea popped into his brain. You can only sink down into your seat and glance at the time on your phone as you wait for the perfect moment.

——

It was exactly eleven minutes after Jungwoo had disappeared that you decided to stand yourself, hoping he actually found a way to follow through on his earlier threat.

You mutter something about drinking too much water this morning, and a promise to check on Jungwoo if he still wasn’t out when you were done in hopes to mask what you’re really getting up to do. The chorus of acknowledging grumbles and a few playful ‘have fun’s seemed to be reassuring enough, and with a tug at the hem of your skirt, you're scurrying towards the bathroom you saw your boyfriend disappear into not long ago.

You stand at the door for a moment, pushing it another minute past your time limit partially to make the boy on the other side of the door squirm, but also to wrap your mind around what you’ve let him convince you to do.

It’s when you hear him quietly hiss in pain from messing with something he probably shouldn’t be touching at all, that you let out an airy laugh through your nose and lean against the locked door.

You knock gently at the door, whispering a taunting ‘guess who?’ in between taps, and before you could step back, he swings the door open, and you’re stumbling in.

“I said ten minutes,” he wastes no time scolding you for your poor listening skills, his hands grabbing for your waist and pushing your chest against the wall, “ten minutes is a perfectly reasonable time to come up with an excuse and follow your boyfriend to the bathroom to fuck isn’t it? So what could have possibly taken you so long?”

“Well, Jungwoo,” you start, fully prepared to pull something incredibly stupid out of thin air to use as an excuse, but when he presses his hips against your ass and you feel just how excited he had gotten just from his wandering hands earlier, you begin to stutter over your words, “m-maybe I just umm lost track of time?”

“Lost track of time?” he asks in a sarcastic and even borderline bitchy tone, “definitely doesn’t have anything to do with a little threat I made without even thinking earlier would it? Pfffft no how could it?”

You can’t even bite back, deliver the same level of idiotic sass that had attracted you two to each other in the first place. Not with your face pressing against the cold wall and his hands moving faster than you can process down towards your thighs.

He lets out quiet grunts of appreciation when he starts to push your skirt up and around your hips, a big evil smile crawling across his face when he sees that he had guessed perfectly correct, and you were in fact wearing his favorite pair of panties. (He swears he could pick them out from millions of pairs just from the way the elastic bites into his wrist.)

You’re pressed tighter against the wall, your panting breaths almost syncing with his own when he starts to roughly grind his denim clad crotch against you. His lack of snarky comments from the ways you’ve started to whine tells you you’ve lost him, and your thighs start to shake and tremble as you squeeze them together tightly, trying to relieve the pain from your sudden neediness and impatience.

“Jungwoo come on,” you whine, swinging your arm aimlessly behind you to swat at him, “we don’t have all day, they were already getting weird about how long you were taking before I left.”

“Fuck okay,” he says with hesitation before pulling away enough to shove your underwear down to pool around your ankles while muttering to himself.

You begin debating in your head whether or not you should touch yourself, before answering yes, you absolutely should, when you hear him struggling with his belt.

The first minuscule touch of your middle and ring finger touching your clit makes you gasp and press your forehead against the wall, the circling motions falling just short compared to the way he knows how to touch you and you can only huff in frustration from the stupidity of your own hand not knowing exactly what to do.

It’s the sound of his jeans falling around his knees and a small clicking of a cap that pulls you from your inner grumbling, but it’s the cold shock of the jelly on his fingers pushing between your thighs that makes you jerk your hand away from your body to mirror the other laying flat by your head.

“Why do you have lube?” you ask in shock and even a bit of arousal from how much curveball he could be, but you’d never admit the second part willingly to his face.

“I think the better question is why don’t you?” he asks with an air of arrogance as he pulls his fingers away and begins to audibly coat himself in the substance, “looks like im the prepared one between us for once.”

“Yeah prepared for something you weren’t even sure was going to happen.”

“Yeah but you’re letting it happen aren’t you? Loser,” regardless of the name that he throws at you, he seems to have lost his patience with the back and forth you two have started. So with the last last syllable still slipping between his teeth, the hand he doesn’t have wrapped around himself grabs you around the waist and he’s shoving himself almost completely inside you.

You don’t have time to muffle the surprised moan that falls from your tongue, instead all you can do is pray no one was close enough to the bathrooms to hear it as he starts to rock his hips against yours.

“Can’t judge me for the lube now can you?” it was rhetorical, but even if it wasn’t you would have been able to answer him. With the second thrust into you, he had already been able to seat himself fully into you, the size of him still shocking you to this day and you can only clench and squirm against him.

His hands are clumsy as the trace around your body. His non dominant hand struggles to push under the hem of your shirt to grasp at your chest, while his other dips below the skirt he was so thrilled you had chosen to wear in search of the space between your thighs.

His breath is hot and quick pants when he leans his chest against your back and pushes his face into the crook of your neck. You almost feel like you’re suffocating from how much he begins to surround you and you really for the life of you cannot think of a worse placed to pass out in than a food court bathroom with your boyfriend fucking your brains out.

It’s when his own fingers dig into your clit and his warm tongue drags up the side of your neck, so you remember the existence of your own hands. You shove one up your now stretched out top to tangle tightly with the one he has kneading your chest, while the other slams tightly against your mouth to muffle the moans and squeaks that now beat against it.

“I wanna make you come so fucking hard,” he grunts in your ear with every ounce of honestly he can pull from his chest, his hips showing you exactly how truthful he is with the way they thrust roughly against you, pushing and pulling you apart in a way that makes you feel like he’s trying to take you apart at the seams, “wanted that since I saw you put on that cute little skirt on this morning. You just live to taunt me don’t you?”

You can’t answer, too afraid that taking your hand even the slightest amount away from your mouth will expose to the whole food court exactly what’s happening behind the closed door. Instead all you do is push back against him, trying hopelessly to match his thrusts and getting a sharp bite to the soft skin of your neck in retaliation.

“Better come quick before they think we got lost in here,” he says too coolly, his ability to not sound like he’s on a brink of orgasm when you know for a fact he is almost driving you up the wall. But unfortunately, his words and the fact that you're just as much, if not closer to your finish than him, has you melting back into his chest.

Even when your thighs begin to tremble, and you accidentally step back onto his foot, his fingers don’t stutter in the slightest. The arm pushing against your chest keeps you from squirming away from him, and even with your thighs trying to push him out, he keeps his fast and unrelenting pace on your hypersensitive clit.

You’re pushing up on your toes, his one foot still getting crushed under your weight, and your neck inhumanly arching to lean your head against his shoulder as you start to come. You can hear the faint growling noise you make from behind your hand, but your mind is too busy blanking out to control anything that comes from your mouth.

You feel your eyes watering as his fingers keep moving against you to carry you through your orgasm, his own finally creeping up and making him shove himself fully inside you as he starts to come.

The feeling of him spilling inside you creates borderline unbearable waves of aftershocks to wash across you, and you can feel your body fluttering around him as you try to ruin his brain just as much as he did your own. It’s almost like a small competition sparks between you to fight against your own pleasure just to simply torture the other, but eventually once your both sporting lines of sweat on your hairlines and aching shoulders and back do you silently call it a truce.

The small room suddenly feels too hot for either of you to be anywhere close to it, but you’d rather scream than let him take his hands away from your body. You’re more than glad to shove his fingers away from your buzzing clit, but you still keep it wrapped tightly in your fist the way you do to his other.

When he pulls out you feel a disappointing emptiness but an even more embarrassing rush of fear of the evidence of his orgasm leaking onto the floor, so all you can do is whine and squeeze your thighs back together again while you and him both catch your breaths.

“Come on,” he whispers, and that and the way his hands smooth over your burning skin is almost sweet, until he swats at your ass harshly before he starts to pull his jeans back onto his hips.

“Didn’t feel like I was in much trouble,” you loudly sigh in both faux disappointment but also to help even your breathing, “guess you’re all bark and no bite puppy boy.”

He glares to the best of his ability, but his still animated brows and pouting lips makes him look hilariously cute, “you think you’re getting punished in the bathroom? Absolutely not, I’m a man of class and respect.”

“Man of respect? You just fucked me in a public toilet after a game of what are the odds.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he lies, weirdly focused on redoing his belt and avoiding your eyes, “anyways we should probably go, they probably already think the chicken I got was bad or something.”

“You go,” you push him aside gentle before you begin a awkward trip towards the toilet in the corner, “I’m going to get rid of the mess you made and pee all you’re gross boy germs out so you go and please try to come up with an excuse that won’t make us both look like freaks okay?”

“On it captain,” he salutes to you before ducking out in a way that makes you question if you really truly let him just put his dick inside you, but with a growing need to pee you push it aside to waddle with haste.

It’s not until you shuffling back to the table in what you assumed was a discreet walk of shame do you realize he’s done the opposite of what you asked, as when you finally reach within hearing range to the table you’re immediately met with jeers and taunts about you and your boyfriend being insatiable freaks. But at least Jungwoo has the decency to look a little ashamed and maybe even a dash of apologetic.

[love-and-monsters]

Polyam Alien Merfolk

GN reader X M mer-alien X F mer-alien, 6,743 words

Crashed on an alien planet and taken in by a couple, this story was uh, pretty self-indulgent for me. Not sure if anyone else is going to like it but I liked writing it.

CW: mentions of being in a cult and descriptions of family death and cult behavior.

“Is it like, alive?”

The voice was soft, coming from just over your head. Something sharp prodded your side. You groaned.

A second voice came from closer to your feet. “Sounds like it’s alive.” This voice was rougher, raspier, though also higher pitched than the first voice.

“Is it hurt, then? We can’t move it if its hurt.” The sharp thing poked your side again. “What if it’s really badly injured?”

Dimly, you were aware of sunlight against your face. Most of your body was covered with your skintight flight suit, but your face was exposed, and, from the feel of it, entirely covered in sand. Actually, given the grittiness in your mouth, most of your insides were coated in sand as well. The hard rock of nausea in your gut told you that you had probably swallowed a decent amount of sand too. Your lungs felt like they’d been aggressively sandblasted. Every breath stung like needles.

“Then there’s nothing we can do and it’ll die,” the second voice said. “It doesn’t look injured. I think. I mean, I don’t know alien anatomy, but everything looks right, doesn’t it? No blood. Nothing’s sticking out weirdly.”

“Internal injuries!” the first voice insisted. “What do we do? A doctor’s not going to know what to do about this.”

The nausea that had been churning in the bottom of your stomach abruptly kicked up a notch. Apparently, your body had decided you were awake enough to retch. Automatically, you twisted onto your side, abdominal muscles heaving, and a gush of fluid poured out of your mouth.

For the next minute or so, you were thoroughly occupied by vomiting. The nasty tang of saltwater mixed with bile filled your mouth and your injured lungs screamed for air every time you heaved. Finally, you were only dry-heaving and coughing into the sand. Somewhere nearby, you could hear the soft rush of waves against shore.

Groaning, you slumped onto your back once more. Sand shifted and crunched as you moved. Your head was clear enough to start putting the pieces together, though. You remembered… a space battle. Your little fighter had been hit. It had fallen.

“Hey.” The first voice was speaking again. You turned your head toward it. “Are you feeling better now?”

The speaker was covered in mottled scales, a dark green-blue near its back and a pale whitish color on its belly. From the waist up, it was humanoid, with a fairly human-looking face, large, fan-like fins along the back of its head and trailing down its back, and finned hands. From the waist down, it had the long, slender and finned body of some kind of sea snake. All of its fins had ruffled, fancy-looking edges and they were flushed a striking shade of red. Next to him was a slightly larger creature of the same species. This one had smaller, much duller fins and a slightly chunkier, rounded frame.

You tried to respond, but all that came out of your throat was a groaning hiss. The first speaker cocked their head at you. “Can you not speak? Could you not do that before or were you hurt?”

“Maybe that’s how it speaks,” the second speaker said.

“No! I’ve seen videos of them before, they speak like we do.” The second speaker rolled their eyes. The first speaker ignored them. “Hey. Hey! You okay? Blink twice for yes!”

You stared at the first speaker. They tilted their head back at you. “No? Not okay?” How were you even supposed to answer that question? You didn’t feel particularly hurt so much as pretty uncomfortable, but you didn’t feel totally put together either. After another moment of consideration, you made eye contact with the first speaker and carefully blinked twice.

“It’s okay!” they cried in utter delight. “Look, see?”

“Then we can move it somewhere. Get the interstellars involved. Go for the head, I’ll get the legs.”

“Why do you get the legs?” the first speaker whined. The second speaker ignored them and seized you by your ankles, hefting your legs up onto their shoulder. The first speaker, grumbling quietly, heaved your top half up.

Despite looking like sea creatures, they navigated the sandy dunes with a surprising level of ease. Within a few minutes, you were being set down on the wooden floor of a tiny, one-room building. The floor was flat underneath you, but you could see a slope leading into the ocean. The home was partially open, allowing for a smooth integration between water and land.

“Can you sit up?” The first speaker carefully lay you against the wall so you were in a seated position. “Naerie, can we get some water?”

The second speaker, Naerie, appeared holding a small, wooden cup. She passed it over to the first speaker, who held it to your mouth. “Here. Drink,” they said.

You sipped slowly. It wasn’t as pure as the water you were used to on your ship- it had a strange, slightly plant-like taste to it. Still, it was water and relatively clean, and it helped focus your mind and soothe your throat.

You leaned away from the water glass and cleared your throat. It was still sore, but it was functional. “Where am I?”

“It speaks,” Naerie said. Their voice was mildly surprised.

“Yeah. It does,” you said. “I… remember crashing here.”

“We saw that,” the first speaker said. “Well, we saw you fall into the ocean and dragged you to shore. I think your suit absorbed most of the impact?”

“They’re designed for kinetic redistribution.” The first speaker nodded, though their expression was entirely devoid of understanding. “Um. That means they’re designed to spread impact shock away from my body. I’m probably bruised, but I shouldn’t have broken anything.”

“I’ve never seen a human before,” the first speaker said. They lifted one of your hands, toying with your fingers curiously. They seemed fascinated by your lack of fins. “Not in person, anyway.”

“Yes. You’re quite a… reclusive species.” Naerie’s lip curled. A sliver of ice-cold worry dropped into the pit of your stomach. “What are you doing here, anyway?”

“It-” An abrupt rush of memories cut your voice off. You remembered running, barely able to feel your limbs through the numbness of fear. You remembered navigating a tiny fighter ship with numb fingers. You remembered flying and flying, not toward anything, but just away, away, away. And then watching the slow failure of your ship’s systems, feeling the ice cold of space leech into your cabin, the thinness of the air. The certainty that you were going to die, cold and alone in space and that somehow, that was entirely better than being where you had been.

“Oh, hey. Shh, shh.” Scaled arms wrapped around you, tugging you against a warm chest. The first speaker was hugging you, nuzzling their face against your head. “It’s okay! You’re safe now.”

“I’m alone,” you said, voice choked. Tears spilled down your cheeks. “I swear. I’m alone. No one’s with me. I didn’t mean to come here. I’ll leave.”

“You don’t have to leave! It’s okay!” The first speaker tugged you into their chest and glared at the other. “Naerie! Be nice! It’s okay, shh, shh.” They rocked back and forth, pressing your head to their chest. “You’re okay. You’re safe now.”

“If you’re alone, then I suppose it’s fine,” Naerie said. They seemed unsettled by your sudden tears. “All right. Terraso, let them lie back. We should get a good look at them, make sure they’re not hurt.”

You ended up wearing only the thin undersuit of your flight suit while Naerie probed at you delicately. In the end, it was determined that you were likely badly bruised, but not seriously injured. As Naerie prodded at your body, Terraso prodded at your mind by conversing cheerily. Names and pronouns were formally exchanged, and you learned that your rescuers were a couple, and lived on their own on the outskirts of a large city.

“I don’t suppose you have anywhere to go,” Naerie said, glancing you over. “You lost everything with your ship, didn’t you?”

You nodded. Technically, the only thing you had lost was a second set of clothes, but they didn’t need to know that. “I know how to live on my own.” Not really true, but you were pretty sure you could figure something out. “I can-”

“Absolutely not!” Terraso reared up on his long, serpentine lower half. “If you don’t have anywhere to stay, you should stay with us.” He turned, looking pleadingly at Naerie. “We can’t just kick her out.”

Naerie, despite her cool nature, didn’t seem keen on kicking you out either. Her brow puckered as she looked you up and down. “No, I suppose not,” she said. “You look as though you’re one missed meal away from starvation.”

You laughed. “It’s fine. I’ve missed plenty of meals before.”

Terraso and Naerie stared at you. Apparently that statement wasn’t as reassuring as you’d expected it to be. “You’re staying,” Naerie said. “Tomorrow, we can go into the city and see if we can get you set up with a life preserver pass. It’ll at least let you stay for a couple of months.”

“Life preserver pass?” you repeated.

“It’s like an emergency citizenship card. For people who end up planetside on accident, and are having trouble getting back home. If you get a citizen to stick up for you, you can get a life preserver pass until you figure out how to go home again,” Terraso said.

“That’s the simplified version. There’s a little more to it than that. Terms and conditions and all that. But you don’t need to know that to fill out the paperwork,” Naerie said.

Terraso rolled his eyes and leaned close to speak in a stage whisper. “Don’t mind her. She works for interplanetary governmental communications. Lots of paperwork.”

You nodded. “What do you do?”

“Oh. Mind the house, mostly.” Terraso rolled onto his back, swishing his tail idly.

You stared. “Mind the house?”

“You know. Cook, clean, make sure everything’s all nice for Naerie when she comes home,” Terraso said.

You mulled that over. “You don’t have a job?”

Terraso shrugged. “I mean, I keep everything in the household running. That’s kind of a job. When we have kids someday, I’ll take care of them.” He gave Naerie an eager look. She smiled back at him. “Didn’t they have house spouses where you came from?”

“Everyone worked,” you said. “Both my parents. All my siblings. If you had time to relax, you had too much time on your hands.”

Naerie and Terraso exchanged a look. “Where did you say you were from again?” Naerie asked. Her voice was soft, like she was talking to something easily spooked. You bristled at the implication.

“I’m from the Unity Formation,” you said. Naerie looked at Tarraso. He shrugged.

“Okay. Well. You’ve been through a lot. Why don’t you let Terraso take care of you for a while? I’ll start getting things set up for going into the city and getting you a life preserver pass.” They exchanged a couple more significant looks as Naerie slipped into the water at the other side of the house. It seemed strange, but you were too exhausted to care. You slumped back against the wall.

“You want anything to eat?” Terraso asked. There was a forced, cheery note in his voice. “You really are skinny. It’d probably be good for you to eat.”

It was clear he was trying to distract you, but you were hungry enough to allow it. “Sure.” Terraso grinned and started rummaging through cabinets, chattering cheerily all the while. His voice rose and fell like a wave. After a little bit, you didn’t even hear the individual words anymore. Just the soothing sound of his voice.

The next morning, Nearie provided you with some clothes. They were toga-like, made more for her legless species than yours, but you accepted them regardless. They covered everything important, anyway. Terraso fussed over you until you had eaten nearly two large helpings of breakfast. Feeling uncomfortably full, you left with your companions for the city.

The city was built much in the same way as their house- partially submerged, with other members of the alien species slipping in and out of water with ease. However, you noticed a few other land-walkers, like you, walking easily through the part of the city that was on land.

Naerie noticed you looking. “This city’s one of the more progressive ones. It’s the only interstellar spaceport, so we get a lot of other species here. Not many humans, though.”

You shook your head. “That’s okay.” A hulking, bladed creature strode by. You tried not to stare. There were more species here than you’d ever seen in your entire life. Gawking at them would probably not make a good first impression. Naerie saved you by slithering up to the front door of a tall, stately building and gesturing you inside.

It was several hours of bureaucratic wrangling before you could leave the building again, this time with a subdermal implant marking your status as a temporary citizen. You toyed at the small bump on your skin. It was designed for easy removal, but you couldn’t stop prodding at it, barely holding in the urge to rip it back out. The feeling of something like that under your skin again was unsettling.

The next stop was the shopping district. There were a few small, out-of-the-way shops that catered to bipeds, and you left laden with new clothes. The variety was amazing- you had never seen so many different kinds of fabric in your life, or so many rich, vibrant colors. It was almost overwhelming.

“Is this all right?” you asked as the three of you left the shop. “It must have been expensive. I can try to pay you back-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Naerie said, waving her hand in your direction. “Temporary citizens get a small stipend to fund their lives here until they can get stabilized or off planet.”

“Oh.” You looked down at the clothes. “And you’re okay with me staying with you? I don’t want to be a bother. I-”

“I think it’s exciting!” Terraso cut in. “I’ve never really interacted with a human before.”

Naerie smiled warmly at him. “Terraso’s always been fascinated with aliens. And, regardless, we’re not the sort of people who throw those in need out on the street.” She gave a disdainful sniff, displaying her opinion of those sort of people.

The city glittered with glass spires as you headed out of the shopping district and into an area that smelled mouthwatering. “Want to get some lunch?” Terraso asked. His body bumped lightly against yours as he spoke. He had a habit of doing that, freely letting a hand rest on your side to pressing his shoulder against yours. You nearly jumped every time he touched you. The casual nature of it was surprising.

“I’m not hungry,” you said. “I had a lot for breakfast.” Not to mention that lunch was more of a holiday treat than something you ate every day.

“That was quite a few hours ago,” Naerie said. “You don’t eat much, do you?”

“I’m used to having only two meals a day,” you said, an edge of defensiveness creeping into your voice. Terraso and Naerie exchanged looks again.

In the end, Terraso convinced you to try some sort of fried plant that was apparently the city’s specialty. It was far richer and oilier than anything you’d ever eaten before, and you had to nibble it slowly. Terraso chattered amiably about the city- apparently he was something of an architect nerd and could list off a few interesting facts about most buildings, even the ones that didn’t look particularly impressive.

By the time you had returned home, you were exhausted, and your stomach was in revolt over the fried food. You spent most of the night hunched over their toilet while Naerie and Terraso alternately checked on you.

“I’m really sorry! I didn’t think it would make you sick,” Terraso said, tucking a blanket over your shoulders. You retched once more, bringing up thin bile. “I’ve seen humans eat that stuff before, so I just thought…”

“Maybe I’m allergic to it,” you suggested. Terraso made a chirruping noise of surprise.

“You weren’t gene treated for allergies as a kid?” he asked.

“Was I what?”

“Gene treated? You know, they do the histamine test and then they correct mast cells and…” He stared at your confused expression. “It’s standard medical procedure. Nobody gets sick or dies from allergies anymore.”

You shook your head. “We didn’t have it, I guess. I might not be allergic, anyway. I’ve never had anything like that before. Mostly, we had nutri-slurry.”

Terraso fussed with the edges of the blanket, twisting it between his hands as he tucked it around you again. “Did you grow up on a station in deep space?”

“Er.” You paused. “I grew up on a station.”

“You’re supposed to have one year planetside for every four years on the station. And more to eat than nutri-slurries.” Terraso’s tone was less scolding and more concerned. He gave you a look with his big, soft eyes. “Are you feeling any better? Less sick?”

“I’m okay,” you said. “You don’t have to stay. I’ll be fine.”

“Mm. I don’t believe you,” Terraso said. “You seem like one of those people who won’t admit to being sick even when you’re a fin’s thickness from death.”

“Being sick isn’t an excuse for missed work,” you mumbled. The memorized phrase jumped to your lips before you had time to even think about it. Terraso’s expression flickered for a moment before smoothing back to kindness.

“You don’t have any work to do right now, so why don’t you just rest?” Terraso curled his tail beneath him and smoothed the blanket between your shoulders. “Get some sleep. I’ll stay here.”

You were too weary to protest. Instead, you snuggled further under the blanket and closed your eyes. Even the twisting of your stomach wasn’t enough to keep you from the warm embrace of sleep.

Gradually, you settled into a sort of routine with your rescuers. You woke in the morning, ate breakfast, and Naerie would go to work. Then Terraso and you would take care of any household chores that needed doing. Given that there were two of you, it took much less time than usual, and Terraso would usually spend the rest of the day teaching you about the local culture. It was overwhelming at times, the level of variety that was present. So different from your home, it made your head spin.

As you got bolder with your questions, you noticed Naerie and Terraso exchanging looks more often. You just started calling it the Look in your head- you would say something about your home and they would give each other the Look. The Look usually meant the next few minutes would be full of awkward tension, while Naerie and Terraso circumnavigated the topic.

The first few times the Look occurred, it was strange. After that it quickly made its way to annoying, then straight up frustrating.

When they exchanged the Look after you spoke about the oddness of the local week-long festival, you put your foot down.

“If you think I haven’t noticed the two of you sneaking glances at each other every time I mention something from my home, you’re wrong,” you said. Terraso froze like a kid sneaking extra slurry. Naerie, on the other hand, seemed entirely unaffected. She put her utensils down and steepled her fingers, as best she could with webbed digits.

“We weren’t intending to keep anything from you,” she said. “But… ugh, I’m not going to dance around the reef anymore. Where exactly did you come from? You crashed here looking half starved, you usually refuse to discuss your old life, except cryptic, concerning details, and everything seems to suggest you crashed here on accident while running away from something. So. What were you running from?”

“I’m not a criminal,” you said. It came out far more defensive than you intended. Terraso sucked in a breath through his teeth and tried to play intermediary.

“We don’t think you’re a criminal! We don’t! That wasn’t what we were suggesting. We’re concerned, though,” he said, his voice softening. “We want to know that you’re safe. You don’t talk about your life before you came here. We’re just worried about you.”

“I’m fine.” Your voice was sharp, automatic. Defensiveness bristled all over you, like quills. “There is no reason to be concerned. I am still able to complete my duties.” Terraso blinked and he and Naerie exchanged the Look. “And stop doing that!”

“We didn’t mean to upset you. We’re only trying to look out for you.”

“I have been doing fine,” you said. “Please. Leave it.” Your voice shivered at the end. You swallowed. A shiver of fear rippled down your spine and dug into the pit of your stomach.

Terraso lifted his hands and spread his fins. “Hey,” he said, his voice lowering. “Hey, hey. It’s okay. You’re all right.” He moved slowly toward you until he was within touching distance. Despite being close enough to hold you, he just extended his hands, like he was waiting for you to make the first move. “Breathe. Just breathe. You’re safe. I swear you’re safe here. Just wait for a moment until you come back to us. Okay?”

The soothing rise and fall of his tone relaxed something in the back of your brain. Your chest loosened and the trembling fear in your gut eased. Tentatively, you reached out and touched his hand. His fingers closed around yours, loose enough that you could pull away if you wanted to.

“You don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to,” Naerie said. She was speaking in the same soothing register as Terraso, though she was somewhat less practiced at it. “I’m just worried. I want to know that you’re okay.”

Her voice was unbearably tender on the last word. Terraso’s thumb traced along the back of your knuckles. The combination of two, tiny, kind actions made something in you, something that had barely been holding steady all this time, crack.

Sobs shuddered through your chest. Terraso made a quiet cooing noise and you slumped blindly, fumblingly, into him. Naerie slipped around him to rest a gentle hand on your back. For several moments, they held you up as you cried.

Somehow, you weren’t entirely sure how, you ended up on the floor, cradled between Naerie and Terraso. One of Terraso’s cheeks rested on your head. Naerie was rubbing your back up and down in slow, loose circles. “Feeling better?” Terraso asked quietly.

“I think so,” you said. Despite the tension releasing in your chest, you couldn’t get your fingers to relax on Terraso’s arm. He didn’t mention it. “I- I know you’re worried.”

“You don’t have to talk about it,” Naerie said. “I shouldn’t have pushed it.”

“No. I know I should talk about it. It’s… not happy, though.” You took in a deep breath. Terraso nuzzled you comfortingly. “It’s… I spent most of my life on the Unification Centralized space station. My parents joined when I was two. It was supposed to be this… utopia, I guess. A self-sustaining space station. But it wasn’t that. Once you were on the station, you couldn’t leave, and you had to work for the greater good. They said that all the time. You needed to work for the greater good. If you weren’t working, if you got sick, it meant you weren’t strong enough, that there was something wrong with you. And that was life. You worked and you tried to keep on the good side of the leadership, and if you didn’t you were in trouble.”

Naerie was looking at you with a combination of worry and horror. You glanced toward her face, but you couldn’t maintain eye contact. “I… left. My little sister- she was born after my parents joined. She got sick. Really sick. They said that she was being… I don’t know, punished for something.” Tears stung at your eyes, but your emotions had become manageable enough to repress them. “She died. Because we weren’t allowed to get help for her. And I didn’t know where to go after that but I knew I couldn’t stay there.”

“So, you left,” Terraso said. “That must have been terrifying.”

“It wasn’t, really,” you said. “I mean, it was. But it all seemed really far away. I didn’t want to die, but I guess I figured that staying there was a death sentence anyway, so it didn’t matter. I just… I had to leave. I had to.”

There was silence for a few minutes. Terraso rested his head on your shoulder. Naerie’s arm lay across your shoulders. Their touch felt stabilizing, grounding, like it was what was pulling you to the planet, not the gravity.

“I’m sorry,” Naerie said. “I’m sorry that happened to you. And I’m sorry about your sister.”

“Thank you.” Your voice grated in your throat. You cleared it a few times.

“How did you come here?” Terraso asked. “Did you just pick a planet to go to at random?”

You snorted. “I didn’t even get that far. I just tried to go in a different direction from the space station as fast as I could. I used one of the little space hoppers, the ones that are only supposed to be used for short travels. They don’t have onboard navigation systems.”

“That was reckless,” Naerie said. “You could have died. You almost did die.”

You shrugged. “I know. Like I said, I wasn’t really all that focused on surviving. I just wanted to get away.”

Terraso hugged you. His tail swung up, loosely wrapping around your waist. Naerie petted your head absently, though her gaze was distant.

“Please focus on surviving now,” Terraso said. His voice came out soft enough that it was almost a murmur. “It’s… scary to hear you talk like that. Like you don’t care if you live or die.”

You brushed your hand along his head, prompting his fins to stand to attention. “It’s okay. I’m feeling better now. It’s easier, with you two here. Like I have something to live for.”

Naerie smiled at you. Her eyes softened, glittering with emotion in a way you’d only seen when she looked at Terraso. Something in your chest tightened and loosened in the same moment.

“I have a suggestion,” Naerie said. “You have never experienced anything like the festival before, have you?” You shook your head. Naerie smiled. “Well. Why don’t we go out? It will be a good experience for you to have fun.”

Terraso perked up, lifting his head off your shoulders. “Yes! We haven’t been to one of the festivals in so long and it’s so much better with someone who hasn’t been before! You’ll love it.” He straightened up, tail coiling and uncurling with enthusiasm. “Only if you want to go, of course,” he added, looking at you with uncertainty.

“I’ve never been to one before,” you said, “so I won’t know what it is you’re supposed to do…”

Terraso grabbed your hands, squeezing them in his. “You’re not supposed to do anything except have fun! It’ll be good, I promise! And if you’re not having a good time, we can just go home.”

“It’s true. There’s no reason we can’t come back if you aren’t enjoying yourself,” Naerie said. “I think you’d enjoy it. And I think I’d enjoy seeing you have fun.”

“Okay, okay. If you both are so excited, then we’ll go. I just need a minute to get ready-”

“Meet us outside in ten,” Naerie said. She slipped underwater with Terraso, presumably so they could both get ready themselves.

Ten minutes later, Naerie met you outside. She flicked her fins casually in the faint sunlight that filtered through the clouds. “Terraso will be along in a moment. He likes to dress up.”

“Dress up?” The concept of getting into fancy dress to go places was still a bit of a foreign concept to you. Everyone had worn the same uniform in your old home.

“He likes the festivals,” Naerie said. “You’ll see.”

Almost as soon as she’d finished speaking, Terraso emerged from the sea, squirming in excitement. His fins seemed a brighter shade of red than usual, though you weren’t sure if he was slightly flushed or if it was an effect of the bright gold piercings he’d applied. A few of them even had red, fluttering cloths attached to them, giving the impression that he had more fins than he did.

“Are we ready to go?” he asked. Naerie smiled, linking one of her arms through his. The way her eyes roved over his body almost made you blush.

“We were waiting on you.” She reached out and, to your surprise, linked her other arm through yours. You tried not to look too surprised. As strange as it was, you didn’t want to do anything that might make her let go.

The city was enveloped in brilliant lights when you arrived. Aliens and natives alike were out in the streets, laughing and talking and shouting amongst themselves. The air smelled of a hundred different things, all delicious. Stalls were set up all over the streets, most of them with various pieces of art or food or souvenirs for sale. A few of them seemed to be offering some sort of lessons in art or dance or other such things. It was almost immediately overwhelming. Not negatively overwhelming, but it took you a moment to process everything.

“You should decide what we do first,” Terraso said. He looked at you with bright, eager eyes. “See anything you like?”

“Er,” you said. There were a lot of things that looked interesting, but you couldn’t sort out what a lot of them were, much less what you would enjoy.

“Terraso,” Naerie said. “Why don’t you pick first? We’ve been here before, after all, so we should be guides.”

In the end, Terraso dragged you over to some sort of simple game that consisted of tossing small balls into several different containers. You tried a couple of times, but the game was a lot more difficult than it looked. After quite a few tries, Terraso managed to score enough points to receive a stuffed toy resembling one of the many eel-like creatures that lived in their oceans.

“Here!” He thrust it into your arms, smiling triumphantly. You blinked down at it, a little confused.

“I don’t need this?” you said. “You don’t even have stuffed animals in your house. Why were you so intent on winning it? I don’t even think it’s particularly well made.”

“That’s not the point!” Terraso said, still grinning broadly. “The point is winning! Especially winning something for someone else!”

“He loves those games,” Naerie said, leaning over to speak quietly in your ear. “He’ll spend all our money on those things if we let him.”

You looked down at the stuffed toy in your arms. It looked pretty wonky, honestly. “Why? You could probably buy one of these for pretty cheap. Why spend so much money to win it? There’s no point.”

Naerie smiled slightly, eyes glittering. “Of course there’s a point. It’s to have fun.”

Naerie ended up drawing you over to some art booths. There were some live demonstrations, even things like glass blowing. You were fascinated by the careful motions, the way the demonstrator was able to twist blazingly hot glass into delicate shapes. Apparently taking into account how fascinated you were, Naerie practically shoved you into the arena the instant the demonstrator asked for a volunteer.

The demonstrator was kind and gentle as he helped you through the moves. In the end, you had a small replica of an undersea plant. Apparently you had a knack for shaping glass and the demonstrator insisted that you have another lesson when you came to pick up the piece from him.

“Perhaps there’s an apprenticeship there for you,” Naerie said as you rejoined her and Terraso.

“An apprenticeship?” you repeated. It hadn’t been something you were considering.

“Just a suggestion,” Naerie said. “You seemed to enjoy it and he seemed like a good teacher. I was only thinking- you’ve been here for a while. Perhaps it’s time to start… setting down roots?”

Her voice was delicate, gentle, but you could feel the intensity behind both her and Terraso’s gazes. It was true- you’d been living with them for a while, but you hadn’t really made any preparations to fend for yourself. You’d just been sort of floating.

“It’s something to think about,” Naerie said, putting a soft hand on your arm. “You don’t need to think about it right now.”

Your stomach picked that moment to interrupt. Terraso burst into high-pitched giggles. You glared. “Maybe we should get something to eat,” he said. “Something that’s not too hard on your stomach.” You pulled a face. They’d never forgotten your incident after the fried food and, in all fairness, you couldn’t either. Your stomach had adjusted to some of the heavier fare, but you were still prodded to nausea by anything with too much grease.

Naerie ended up picking some kind of grilled plant matter skewered on a thin wooden stick. Terraso practically crawled over her back as she took the sticks from the vendor. “Here, here, take it,” she said, passing him the stick. He bit into it delightedly, tail wriggling. She offered you one as well and you bit into it tentatively.

The fruit was sweet and salty in equal measure, with just a bit of bitterness from the char. You practically ripped into it, eating it with a ravenous fervor. Within a minute, it was gone.

Naerie laughed. “We’ll have to get you some more of those,” she said. She held out her own stick. “Here. You can have a bit of mine, too.”

You paused. Naerie had already taken a few bites out of it, and she was holding it out to you like she was just expecting you to take a bite while she was holding it. Somehow, that idea came across as almost unbearably intimate. A flush started to creep up your face. Still, Naerie was looking at you with expectance. Maybe you were overreacting? And even if you weren’t… you wanted to. Slowly, you leaned forward and took a delicate bite of the sweet fruit.

Naerie smiled. “Good?” Her voice had taken on a melodic tone, one that made your blushing even worse. You nodded slowly.

“Good,” you said. Terraso smiled and winked at you over Naerie’s shoulder. You looked down at the ground, flustered. “Er. We should, er. Keep going, right?”

The rest of the night was spent wandering the festival, attending the booths and activities. There was more to experience than you’d ever seen before- rides and shows and games all in a riot of colors. At some point, Naerie had pressed alcohol into your hands and you’d started drinking. Terraso was in a similar drunken state, giggling and flopping around, his slithering unsteady.

When the three of you made it back home, all of you were tipsy, bordering on drunk. Naerie was the most sober, but that wasn’t necessarily saying much. She managed to get both you and Terraso in the door before she slumped against a wall, giggling faintly.

Terraso was wrapped around you like a scaly rope, tightening his grip every time you tried to wriggle free. His head was pressed into the side of your neck, fins tickling lightly against your skin.

“Tired,” he mumbled. “Go to bed.”

“You can go to bed, if you want, but you gotta let go!” you said.

“No!” Terraso nuzzled further into your neck. “I want to sleep with yooouuu.”

“I can’t sleep underwater. I’ll drown,” you reminded him.

“Then I’ll sleep up here,” he declared. He lifted his head from your neck and, with some effort, focused his attention on Naerie. “Come on! Come sleep with us!” He made grabby hands at her, then started giggling. “Ooh. Sleep together. Ha ha. We shooouuuld.”

The double entendre made your cheeks grow warm. “Oh, I don’t know about that,” you said, trying to gently pry him off of you. That only made him cling tighter.

“But Naerie said she wouldn’t miiind,” Terraso said. He tilted his head, hanging off of you so he was looking at Naerie upside down. “Right? You said you wouldn’t miiiiiiind, Naerie.” He looped his arms tighter around your neck. “You’re so nice and pretty.” He hiccupped. “And- and- I love yooouuu.” His face was almost completely buried in your neck, muffling his voice. “I love you and Naerie and I wanna be with both of you! Naerie agrees!”

You looked up at Naerie. She was staring at you with wide eyes. It was hard to tell with her species, but you were pretty sure she was blushing. “He’s very drunk,” she said apologetically. “He tends to be, er. Very open when he has too much.” She held her hands out. “Here, I can take him and make sure he gets to bed okay.”

“Noooo!” Terraso wailed. He wrapped around you as tightly as he could. “Not goin’ anywhere!”

Perhaps you also had gotten a little tipsy, because you were feeling unusually bold. “I don’t mind,” you said. “If he wants to stay with me, that’s fine. He can sleep in my bed tonight.”

“Yay!” Terraso mumbled from his position against your shoulder. Naerie seemed conflicted, but she helped you and Terraso into bed. Despite how awkward it made things, Terraso was very insistent on not letting go of you at all.

“What he was talking about before,” you said as Naerie helped you into bed. “That stuff he said, about…”

“About the sleeping with you?” Naerie asked. She sounded unusually unsteady. “Yes. It was. I’m sure he wouldn’t have said anything if the drink hadn’t rendered him completely senseless.” Despite her words, her tone was affectionate. “We didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.”

“It doesn’t,” you said hurriedly. Terraso moaned and somehow managed to snuggle closer to you. “I like you. Both of you. You’re the first people who’ve ever been really nice to me. And you’re both so sweet and Terraso’s funny and you’re so caring- I don’t think I could ever find anyone better.”

“I was hesitant to approach you about it,” Naerie said in a slow, uncertain voice. “I didn’t want to make you feel pressured to be in a relationship with us because we’re the ones helping you. But we… have discussed it. Polyamorous relationships are fairly common among our species. We’ve been interested.”

“I’ve never had any kind of relationship before,” you said. “Not a romantic one, anyway. So I’ll be a little new to this. If you’re still okay with going through with this?”

Naerie smiled and leaned closer to you. One of her hands lingers on your face. “I think I would be interested in teaching you. And I’m certain you couldn’t drag Terraso away with wild therians.”

“It’s true,” Terraso mumbled into your shoulder.

Something in your stomach fluttered. “If- if you’re sure, then.”

Naerie smiled. “I could not be more sure,” she said. She leaned in, then paused, your faces less than an inch apart. You realized she was waiting for you to make the next move. It took you a moment to steel your confidence, then you leaned in and pressed your lips to hers.

The kiss was clumsy and uncertain, but it managed to be good nonetheless. When you broke apart again, you were giggling giddily.

“Perhaps you need practice,” Naerie said, a faint smile playing with her mouth.

“I’ll help,” Terraso declared. He pressed a sloppy kiss to the corner of your mouth. Naerie laughed, easing him off of you and into bed. His tail wrapped around your leg insistently, though, and there was no way you would be able to pry it off.

“I suppose we’re staying up here tonight,” Naerie said. Terraso nuzzled into your side with a happy sigh. Naerie smiled. “He’s happy, at least.”

“I’m happy too,” you said. Naerie looked up at you, eyes soft with affection.

“Yes. I am too.”

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

dancing on dreams, m | myg

pairing(s): yoongi x reader, (very) minor jungkook x reader

summary: The wrong guy shows up in your car – Jeon Jungkook. Big sigh. He’s drunk out of his mind and blabbering away. Then the right guy who you’re supposed to pick up, Min Yoongi, says Jungkook’s apartment is on the way. Might as well drop off passed-out Jungkook and make sure he’s okay. Or Yoongi could fuck you on Jungkook’s bed. That also works.

warnings: rated M (18+) for language, tiny bit of crack; alcohol consumption; smut (fem reader, fingering, f-receiving oral, penetrative sex); fluff; non-idol!AU - friends with benefits / lovers? with Yoongi; you two fuck slightly on top of and next to sleeping Jungkook, tsk tsk; technically JK is in his red My Time outfit lol

repost, originally called ‘a–dick–ted’  and then I realized tumblr doesn’t like that lmao

--

now playing – don’t threaten me with a good time by panic! at the disco

“I’m not as think as you drunk I am.”

That’s what Jeon Jungkook slurred to you as he flopped into your passenger’s seat, the stench of alcohol so strong you recoiled. He was wearing a thin red blazer and his sheer black shirt was missing half the top buttons, revealing his tan, muscular pecs.

Also, he wasn’t supposed to be in your car.

“Get out.”

Jungkook hiccupped and squinted at you. “Noona! What’s up? I didn’t expect to see you here,” he continued, completely ignoring your annoyed look. “I thought you didn’t party.”

You narrowed your eyes. “That’s because I don’t. I’m picking someone up. Get out of my car.”

He shot two finger guns at you. “Eyy, that could be me.”

“It most certainly is not you, Jeon Jungkook. Now yeet yourself out of my car, please.”

He spread his legs, red slacks way too tight for him and his thick thighs and calves. He was wearing patent black leather oxfords as well. The only reason Jungkook bothered to look this good was to get attention. You sighed loudly. You shouldn’t have left your doors unlocked. You had been waiting outside the party house for only ten minutes. Lights and laughter boomed from the home, livening the late night. Too many drunk people were making out on the porch. It was a fucking mess. A minute ago, you were alone, playing on your phone, only to hear the door click and to see the wrong person saunter into your car.

Jungkook slapped his thighs and you flinched, looking away.

“Hey, I thought we were cool,” he grinned, tilting his head. His long black hair was half-tied back, curly from sweat. “I only tried to kiss you that one time.”

You rolled your eyes. “No, you tried to put your hands down my pants, you manwhore.”

Jungkook made a disgusted face. “Whoa, hey, no, no. I’m not a manwhore.”

Your eyebrows rose so high you thought they left your face.

“Your harem says otherwise.”

You pointed outside your car. Seven girls were clinging to the railing, staring at Jungkook in your car. Jungkook turned his head and grinned, waving. Then he abruptly shook it, turning back to you.

You gave him a deadpan stare.

He struggled to complete a full sentence. “What I’m saying is…” Five full seconds of Jungkook trying to conjure five brain cells and failing. “Yeah, okay, I kiss people and touch and stuff…” You were ready to punch him out of your car. “But I’m a…” Hiccup. He looked slightly green.

Then he opened your car door and stuck his head out, vomiting.

“Ugh, gross,” you frowned, repulsed. You looked around your car and found a half-full water bottle in your cup holder. Jungkook turned around and you shoved it into his face, shooing him.

“Rinse out your mouth before you speak to me again, animal.”

Jungkook stared at the water bottle and took it, grimacing. Then he unscrewed the cap, placed it to his lips, and took a big gulp, sloshing it in his mouth before gargling and spitting onto the grass. You looked away, shaking your head.

Ew.

Not to mention he just indirectly kissed you.

Double ew.

You heard him do it again and then noisily drink the rest, crushing the plastic with suction. You turned back to see Jungkook shoot the crumpled plastic bottle out your car.

“What the fuck? Why did you litter?” you scowled.

Jungkook looked out the window, surprised. “Oh. You’re right. Sorry.”

You narrowed your eyes. Out of your peripheral vision, you noticed Jungkook’s harem rush to the fallen water bottle, claiming it triumphantly like crows to a shiny bit of aluminum foil. Okay, well… at least it wasn’t litter.

He cleared his throat, pointing at you. “Anyway, as I was saying, I’m not a–”

“Dirty little fuckboy?”

His head jerked back, dark brown eyes narrowing at you.

“How do you read my mind?” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes.

“Anyway, I’m a virgin.”

You blinked at him and his half-open shirt.

“What?”

Jungkook grinned at you and gave you two thumbs up. “Eyyy.”

Your jaw dropped, but before you could say anything else, you heard a sharp tapping at the driver’s seat window. Two pointed, dark brown eyes squinted at you, frowning. Oh. The person you were actually supposed to pick up. His upper lip upturned a bit, giving him a kitten-like pout.

“Why is there vomit on the passenger’s side and why is Jeon Jungkook passed out next to you?”

You started your car and rolled your window down, grimacing at Min Yoongi. He was wearing a black and navy bomber jacket, white shirt, and distressed black jeans. Ah, his hair was black again. You always told him he looked best in black hair. He raised an eyebrow at you.

“I left my doors unlocked for you and he just waltzed in.”

Yoongi looked past you. “He looks dead.”

You snapped your head back. “He was awake a sec–”

Jungkook was asleep, mouth open, half-slid down the passenger’s seat. Absolutely gone.

You heard Yoongi open the backseat door and slide in. He smelled like whiskey and his pale face was a bit pink, but he didn’t seem as drunk as Jungkook.

“Well, he lives in my building, so I guess we’ll just take him home,” Yoongi said absentmindedly.

You shot him a pained look. “Yoongi, why?”

He shrugged. “I don’t know, it’s the moral thing to do?”

You groaned and began to drive.

-

“You have to help me carry him.”

“I most certainly will not. He’s your friend.”

“You will.”

Five minutes later, you and Min Yoongi were dragging Jeon Jungkook’s dead weight up three flights of stairs, absolutely hating life, and wondering why you decided to wear your heeled black ankle boots today. Sure, they weren’t insanely high, but they weren’t the right shoes for the job. Plus, your flared red miniskirt and gray cropped long-sleeve weren’t helping either. Your shirt had a cat graphic on it that said, “go away,” with two middle fingers.

You felt it described you very well, actually.

Finally, after having made it to the metal door of Jungkook’s apartment, Yoongi crammed his hand into Jungkook’s tight pants’ pockets, feeling around.

“Key’s on your side.”

“I’m not touching him any more than necessary.”

Jungkook raised his head for a half-second, eyes barely open.

“Where’d the party go?” he mumbled and then dropped his head into your shoulder. His chiseled jaw cut into your flesh, alcohol-stained breath against your cheek.

“Save me from this hell, Yoongi.”

Yoongi chuckled deeply and reached around Jungkook’s waist. The back of his hand brushed against your hip and you flinched, eyes flickering to him. His pink lips curved into a crafty smirk. You rolled your eyes and waited as Yoongi yanked Jungkook’s keys out of his pocket, unlocking the door.

“Come on, Jungkook, step please,” Yoongi murmured softly, nudging Jungkook’s legs with his own. Jungkook groaned, head lolling.

“He’s dead,” you muttered as the two of you lugged him into the apartment. “Let’s leave and let the Grim Reaper find him.”

Yoongi ignored your complaining. He lowered himself, throwing Jungkook’s full weight on you. You grunted, extremely disgruntled, as you fell against the wall, using it as support. You had to hold Jungkook’s upper arms to keep him upright, squeezing his hard biceps. His hips hit you in the lower stomach. Ow. Yoongi closed the door and locked it, meandering on where to put the keys, settling on the hook next to the door.

“I’m going to be crushed to death. Is this guy made out of rocks or something?”

Yoongi continued to ignore you, crouching down to remove Jungkook’s shoes. You sighed loudly, staring up at the ceiling. If Jungkook wasn’t Yoongi’s friend, you probably would have pushed him into his own vomit and let the she-wolves have him.

Alright, no, you wouldn’t have, but you weren’t happy about these current events either.

You jumped as you felt Yoongi’s large hand encircle your left calf. You jerked your head down to see him staring up at you, raising an eyebrow. His fingertips kneaded your bare skin slowly. You narrowed your eyes at him and he reached for the zipper of your black boot, sliding it down. One first and then the other, hand holding your calf the entire time. Then Yoongi stood up, dark brown eyes observing you with a spark of amusement. You thinned your mouth into a line and abruptly kicked your shoes off in his direction. Yoongi dodged you easily, smirking.

Jungkook shivered and slumped, his shoulder blades hitting your sternum.

“Motherfuc–”

Yoongi laughed, pink gums flashing, and grabbed Jungkook by the armpit, hauling him up.

“Let’s get him to the bed.”

“I’m ready to chuck him to the floor,” you hissed, rubbing your chest ruefully.

Using the last of your patience, Yoongi and you managed to dump Jungkook onto his bed. Thankfully Jungkook’s apartment was tiny and somewhat clean, so you didn’t have to go very far. You sat on the edge of the bed, panting, as Yoongi calmly removed Jungkook’s blazer and tossed it aside. He gently slapped Jungkook’s face, and Jungkook made a noise like a dying duck.

“Hm, he’s pretty far gone.”

“No shit, you think?” You prodded the soft navy sheets of Jungkook’s bed. They were pretty nice. Maybe you could find the tag and write down the brand later.

Yoongi adjusted the taller man so he was on his side. He looked down at him, pursing his lips.

“We should stay for a bit. Make sure he doesn’t choke.”

You groaned, slapping the bed impatiently. “Who cares, Yoongi? He did this to himself!”

Yoongi smiled, walking around the bed towards you. Jungkook started to snore. Very loudly. His dark hair was curled around his forehead, his long lashes fluttering.

“See? He’s not dead.”

You stiffened as you felt Yoongi stand in front of you, his hand tracing your cheek to turn your head to face him. Your eyes shifted from Jungkook’s sleeping form to Yoongi’s sly smirk. His slightly rounded cheeks were still tinted pink.

“Shh, don’t complain. I’m here with you,” he said softly, caressing your cheek.

You narrowed your eyes at him. “You owe me.”

He leaned down, eyes shimmering with amusement. “That I do.”

And then he kissed you, inhaling your scent and tasting like whiskey. You sighed softly into his mouth, licking his soft lips and pressing back against him. You forgot how it started, really. Perhaps a passing touch? An accidental brush of his fingers against yours? His knee leaning against your thigh for a little too long? Your hand holding onto his shoulder to grab something, maybe a little too tightly? Soon it had become a game of cat and mouse, sneaking hints of each other in innocent public gatherings. Your clothed breasts pressing against his back, trying to squeeze past. His hand brushing against your hip, fingertips tracing the waistband of your pants.

It didn’t really have a name. You two just did it, relying on eye contact, seeing the reaction of the other, spurred on by more and more dangerous actions, upping the ante. Shorter and shorter skirts, his fingers touching your bare thigh, making you shiver.

Yoongi placed a hand on your thigh now, sliding it up. You slapped yours over it, drawing back a little from his intense kiss.

“We’re on Jungkook’s bed,” you breathed, cocking your head towards the sleeping male.

Jungkook snorted in his sleep.

Yoongi grinned. “So?” His dark eyes dangerous, so dangerous. “Bet you still want it.”

He pulled his hand out from under you and put them on your knees, eyes locked with yours. You gave him a warning glare but he spread your legs, lifting your knees up and back. You fell onto your elbows, gasping as he tilted his head, licking his lips as he viewed the wet spot of your red silk panties.

“You wore the nice ones today,” he observed. “Excited to see me?”

You stuck your tongue out at him. “Maybe I just like being pretty for myself.”

Yoongi smirked, getting onto the bed, crawling over you. “You’re already pretty. You don’t need clothes for that.”

Your felt your ears burn at the compliment. You reached up to pull his head down so he could kiss you again, hungry, deep kisses as he lifted your hips, pressing the wet spot on his bare thigh where a massive hole had been ripped in his jeans. You moaned softly, feeling him grind into your soaking pussy.

“I love those jeans,” you whispered, grinning.

Yoongi chuckled. “Me too.”

Snoring Jungkook rolled over and his leg smacked against your elbow.

Yoongi reached down and eased your panties to one side, pressing his thigh against your bare slit. You whimpered quietly, rocking your hips into his leg, stimulating your clit. He continued to kiss you, light, feathery kisses, playing with your tongue and lips, gently nipping at your skin.

“Don’t you feel nice?” Yoongi purred. “Doing something wrong?”

You smirked, wiggling your eyebrows. “Isn’t that what we always do?”

Yoongi kissed down your neck, humming. Your elbow rubbed against Jungkook’s leg as Yoongi began to suck on your flesh, making your back arch. His tongue licked at your hot skin and he blew on it, sending shivers down your spine. He slid down, removing his leg, and replaced it with his hand, pressing it into your wet heat. You gasped, sliding down, arm pressed against Jungkook’s muscular thigh and calf.

“I love the sounds you make,” Yoongi whispered, breath tickling your skin. “Music to my ears.”

He slid a finger into you.

“A-ah, Yoongi…” You clutched the sheets, catching a bit of Jungkook’s pants in your grip.

He thrust it in and out of you, slow, pushing your shirt and bra up. Licking your nipples lightly, watching you tilt your head back, eyes closed. He inserted another into your tight, wet hole, feeling you clench around them, sucking him in.

“So sexy,” he mumbled around your nipple, pushing it with his tongue. “So fuckable.”

You gasped as he increased the pace, simultaneously sucking on your nipple. The wrongness of it all made it even better, pleasure mounting fast as you felt your stomach tighten, so close, Yoongi knowing all the best spots to melt you. You breathed his name, pussy tightening as you came, soaking his fingers with your slick juices, humping his hand slightly.

He thrust into you a few more times, slowly, before sliding out and placing them in his mouth, sucking off your taste. He smirked.

“Turn over.”

You exhaled before trying to roll to your right. Yoongi stopped you.

“Other way.”

You frowned. “Jungkook’s there.”

Yoongi grinned mischievously.

“Yoongi…”

He licked his lips, purring your name. So sweet, so enticing.

You let out a puff of air and lifted yourself to your elbows. You turned your head, seeing Jungkook’s head flopped to the side, mouth open. The sharp line of his jaw, his pouty pink lips, his closed eyes. Still very not elegantly snoring away, and yet you noticed the way his dark hair curled around his forehead, his tiny ponytail mussed from being asleep.

“He likes you, you know,” Yoongi said.

You snorted. “He’s upset I’m not trying to make out with him so he’s trying to touch my lady bits.”

“Same thing.”

You turned your head back, seeing Yoongi shrug out of his bomber jacket. “Did you know he’s a virgin?”

Yoongi’s dark eyebrows raised. “Oh? Interesting.”

You shrugged. “Well, that’s what he said in my car anyway. I don’t know if it’s true.”

Yoongi chuckled. “It probably is. Jungkook’s sappy like that.” He waved a hand dismissively. “Needs to be the love of his life and stuff.”

You tilted your head at him. “And you?”

Yoongi smiled at you. “I don’t need that. I only need you.”

Your heart tightened in your chest. “Hah, right.”

Yoongi leaned forward, pressing his lips to your forehead. “You think I’m lying, but you know it’s true. I always have the most fun with you.”

You scrunched your face and felt Yoongi grab your shirt, yanking it and your bra over your head. You puffed your cheeks at his insistence, but Yoongi grabbed your breasts, rubbing his thumbs onto your hardened nipples. You moaned into his mouth, kissing him back, tongue against tongue, drinking him in. He nudged you to your left.

“Come on…”

You sighed against his lips. “Alright, alright, you bad boy.”

He smirked as you rolled over, careful not to touch Jungkook’s thighs and placing your hands on either side of his hips. Your knees ended up in between his, tightly together. Jungkook’s sheer shirt had eased out of his waist, abs peeking out from the bottom. You swallowed, feeling Yoongi moving behind you, grasping your panties and pulling down.

“You shouldn’t try to fu–”

Your words turned into a gasp as Yoongi’s tongue swiped up your dripping pussy, licking it all up. Your arms trembled, cries dying in your throat as you stared at asleep Jungkook, trying not to make any sound. Yoongi began to noisily eat you out, shoving his tongue inside you and scooping out your juices, his hands spreading your ass. Your shoulders dipped, hands spreading outwards. He slid down a little, finding your sensitive bundle of nerves and licking at it roughly.

“Yoongi, fuck,” you hissed, arching your back. His tongue was too good, so good you almost forgot you were positioned above dozing Jungkook’s dick and abs. Jungkook sighed, turning his head the other way and resuming his snoring. If Yoongi’s tongue wasn’t going to make you pass out, then you were definitely going to get a heart attack if Jungkook woke up in the middle of this.

Yoongi’s mouth latched around your clit and he sucked, hard. Your shaking hips rolled into his face, raspy breaths rattling your chest as you struggled to stay silent, feeling your pussy leaking onto his cheeks, so wet you could hear it behind you.

“Oh, fuck, fuck,” you hissed, sliding down, nipples brushing against Jungkook’s clothed thighs. “Fuck, Yoongi, I’m so fucking close…”

If Jungkook woke up now, you wouldn’t have noticed because pleasure raced up your nerves, intoxicating you, Yoongi’s expert tongue licking and sucking on your clit, so wet and wonderful and tight it was taking over you. Your hand lost balance and your righted yourself, planting it onto Jungkook’s abs. The contours of his muscle molded to your palm as your hand slid up, low moan leaving your lips as you came again, Yoongi opening his mouth and sucking it out of you. Your body shuddered, fucking his face as your rode out your orgasm, nails curling onto Jungkook’s chest.

Jungkook moaned in his sleep, breathy and deep.

The sound brought you back to reality and you jerked your hand away, startled at you were touching him. Yoongi lapped at your pussy leisurely before straightening. You turned your head to see his very self-satisfied expression.

“Looks like dream Jungkook liked that,” Yoongi smirked.

You shook your fist at him. “I touched him!” you whispered angrily.

Yoongi looked unbothered. “A tragedy.”

You pushed yourself off the bed and stepped towards him, legs tangled in your panties. You irritably kicked them off before poking Yoongi in the chest. Now you were only in your red skirt.

“What was that for, huh?” you whispered heatedly.

Yoongi grinned. “Fun.”

He took you by the waist and pulled you to him, kissing you deeply. Now you could taste yourself and the whiskey, sweet and bitter, mixed with Yoongi’s lust as he led you with him. He pushed you back onto the bed, kissing you eagerly, smiling, making you smile too because Yoongi was so much fun, so naughty, and you would never know it from his usual bored expression when he was out in public.

Yoongi undid his jeans as you reached into his back pocket for his wallet, squeezing his ass as you did so. You took the condom out, still kissing him, still licking his lips, unwrapping it. He pushed his clothes down, freeing his cock and you rolled the condom down, moaning as your felt his hard length in your hands.

“Right here?” you murmured against his lips.

“Fuck yes,” Yoongi drawled. “Right next to your favorite drunkard, Jeon Jungkook.”

You laughed. “Alright, he’s annoying, but he’s not a drunkard.”

Yoongi thrust into you and you whined in pleasure, raising your hips to meet him. A playful smirk danced on his lips as he began to roll his hips into you.

“He’s not, but he is today and so I’m going to take advantage of it,” he panted, fucking you nice and slow and perfect, making sure to stretch you out, filling every part of you with his cock.

“Ah, Yoongi, you’re so good,” you gasped, tightening around him, heightening the pleasure. “Such a nice dick.”

He grinned wickedly. “Excuse me, I think you mean the best dick you’ve ever had.”

You smiled back, meeting his hips, slapping them together and making a deliciously sloppy wet smack. “You’re right, the best dick I’ve ever had.”

Jungkook rolled over a bit, exhaling serenely.

Yoongi dipped his head against your ear, moaning softly as he increased the pace, fucking you hard into Jungkook’s bed. “Think he can hear us?”

You chuckled. “You want him to hear us.”

“No,” Yoongi replied, far too mischievously to mean it. “But maybe he should, because your pussy sounds sexy as fuck.”

You sucked in a breath as Yoongi pounded you, falling back a little so your tits bounced. Yoongi’s dark eyes flickered down to you, sparkling with appreciation as you bit your lip, flicking and pulling on your nipples lightly, heightening the pleasure.

“I’m close,” he groaned. “Squeeze me harder.”

You did, tightening your core and he threw his head back, moaning silently as his hips slammed into yours, once, twice, and he came, loud smack of your hips meeting and his cock throbbing into your walls, spurting his cum into the condom and making it swell inside you. You exhaled hotly upwards, tipping your head back, Yoongi’s name drifting out of your lips in bliss.

He just felt so good.

It might not have a name, but it didn’t need one, because Yoongi’s eyes found yours and there was only ecstasy, perfect, lovely, wicked ecstasy of the mighty who had already fallen.

-

Jungkook woke up immensely groggily, head pounding, his sense of space and time completely and utterly fucked.

But he wasn’t dead, so… yay?

He frowned and rolled over. He was in a soft place. A bed. He breathed in deep. His bed. Nice. But he smelled something else. Jungkook squinted. He could see someone. He touched his chest, finding his shirt still on, barely. He still had his pants on. Oh, good. He didn’t accidentally lose his virginity in a drunken stupor.

He recognized that large pale hand. Jungkook frowned again, squinting harder. Yoongi-hyung? But the hand was over a pair of soft breasts, squeezing them together.

“N-noona?” Jungkook croaked.

You reached over and placed a hand over Jungkook’s eyes.

“Go back to sleep, Jungkook. You need to sleep.”

That’s true. Jungkook did need to sleep. This was probably just a dream anyway. No way Yoongi-hyung and noona were naked in his bed, tangled in his blankets. That would be nuts. Totally crazy. Jungkook drifted back into slumber, softly snoozing away.

-

second act. dreaming in reality a–dick–ted au

--

masterpost

extended playlist where did the party go by fall out boy the mighty fall by fall out boy

[britishassistant]

Supervillain AU! I formally request the special addition of Yuu’s first kidnapping please.

Thank you for the ask, dear anon!

“Yoo-hoo, Reporter-chan? Wakey-wakey, it’ll be bad for you if you don’t get up soon~”

Yuu shakes their head groggily, the sing-songy voice not helping the pounding in their temple.

“Did someone get the number of the truck that hit me?” They mumble, blinking to try and get their eyes to focus.

“Dammit Deuce, you gave them brain damage.” A familiar, much more annoyed sounding voice said. “Their head’s gonna be all screwy and useless now, dumbass.”

“It was just a lovetap though!” A third voice, also familiar, protested.

The floor finally stopped moving in front of their eyes and Yuu realized some very important things.

One, the floor they were staring at was not the floor of the library where they last remembered being.

Two: Their arms and legs seemed to be tied tight to the arms and legs of an iron garden chair.

Three: There are many odd-looking people standing near them, all in clothes that are too coordinated not to be a uniform but too outlandish to represent a government group of some kind.

Oh Great Seven, Yuu thinks with a rising sort of hysteria. It’s finally happened.

Clowns have come to take me away for not brushing my teeth enough like Mom said when I was little.

“...Are ya sure you didn’t break ‘em?”

“...”

“Deuce.”

Yuu wonders if they should feel offended at being talked around like this.

“Enough of this nonsense!” A hand seizes Yuu’s chin and pulls their head up to face the latest speaker. An imperious-looking young man stands and walks towards the reporter, clicking his fingers. “Three of Clovers.”

A tall man in glasses hands the imperious young man what Yuu recognizes as their wallet. The shorter man glances at the contents disdainfully. “You. First and last name and age, now.”

“Y-Yuu Radcliffe, 23 years.” The reporter stutters, their initial hysteria morphing into a sinking feeling in their gut. If not the clowns, then... “Can I ask who I have the pleasure of talking to?”

“No.” The redhead holding their wallet snaps. “Current occupation and birthday?”

“Field reporter at TWST local news.” They force themselves to relax the fists their hands have balled into. “March 18th.”

Remember what Uncle Divvy always says. Stay calm, act cooperative, do or say whatever you need to to avoid injury. Any supervillains on this level trying to curry favor with or blackmail the dumb bird will have to go through Uncle Divvy first to contact him, and he’ll take care of the rest.

All Yuu needs to do is keep themselves alive until then.

They still can’t help but dread what they know is coming next.

The supervillain seems to notice their distress, and smirks cruelly. He takes his time walking forward and leaning down until he’s on the reporter’s eye level, hands resting on the back of the chair and eyes flicking over their face, almost as if he’s savoring the moment before he makes their life that much more painful.

Yuu braces themselves as he opens his mouth–!

“What is the best type of tea?”

Huh?

“Wait, what? I don’t—” Yuu asks, backpedalling as the supervillain’s face grows stormy at their lack of response. “Uuh...green tea? I guess? I mean, it’s the one I like the most, but I’m more of a coffee or hot cocoa person, so I’m not the best one to ask...”

The person holding their chin sucks in through their teeth and the annoyed familiar voice outside their periphary snickers “Oooh, busted~”

The supervillain is beginning to go as red as his hair, and the reporter can hear his teeth grinding. His hands are now gripping the back of the chair so tight Yuu would almost swear they hear the metal by their ears creak.

“Ri–Royal.” The man with glasses says.

The supervillain inhales and exhales almost violently, until what’s visible of his face under that mask is looking less flushed.

“The correct answer,” He says, voice trembling with emotion. “Was all teas at their due times. To drink green tea instead of rosehip at breakfast, or lemon tea at 8pm...the nerve of your arrogance is astounding!”

Yuu...genuinely isn’t sure how they’re supposed to respond to that. Instead they just go with, “I’m sorry, I’ve never had rosehip or lemon tea. Do you like them?”

“Do I—?!” The supervillain’s mouth works soundlessly, gradually going red again. He pushes off the chair sharply. “I—the ro—i-it’s not a matter of liking!! These are the Rules!! And the Rules must be obeyed!! Three of Clovers!”

“Yes, Royal Flush?” The glasses man asks.

“The reporter is forbidden from having any montblanc after dinner, and will take two cups of lemon tea at 8pm tonight and two cups of rosehip tomorrow at breakfast.” Royal Flush flashes them a cruel smirk. “Consider it a light punishment for your impertinence.”

Yuu blinks. Tries to make sense of what they’ve just heard.

Blinks again.

“You know if you just wanted to ask me out to dinner, I’d have taken a nice invitation or a bouquet. You didn’t need to knock me out and tie me up like this, I’m not that picky. I do have Tinder.”

Glasses guy makes a choking noise and erupts into a coughing fit.

The hand that’s been holding Yuu’s chin migrates to their shoulder for support as its owner lets out an undignified snort and gasps out something that sounds vaguely like “why wasn’t I recording, that was Magicam gold!” as he giggles. He’s a redhead too, but much more orange than his boss.

There’s a sputter of hysterical laughter that has Yuu twisting their head to see the two guys and the cat from the hydroelectric plant, both with these odd-looking metal collars around their necks, but otherwise unharmed. The talking cat is trussed up in so many ropes that it looks more like a bobblehead, also wearing a weird collar.

The third redheaded one is bracing his hands on his knees, wheezing out a litany of “holy shit, holy shit” between chortles. The dark haired one is holding the cat a confused expression, cutting off his friend’s laughter when he turns to ask, “Ace, what’s tinder?”

The momentary silence lets an odd squeaking noise be heard.

One that gradually grows in volume until it’s an outright screech coming from the supervillain in front of them. He’s so red Yuu is honestly worried about his blood pressure, pointing a shaking finger at them.

“I—YOU—YOU—OFF WITH YOUR HEAD!!!”

Yuu chokes a little at the feeling of cold metal materializing around their neck, dragging their head down with its weight. The supervillain continues screeching, refusing to even look at the reporter. “YOU—! DUNGEON! RIGHT NOW!! NO DESSERTS!! GO!!”

There’s an awkward moment as Royal Flush turns away from them, as if expecting them to get up and walk out of their own accord while his back is to them.

“...So, does that mean you want them to untie me or something, or...?” Yuu wiggles their firmly bound hands and feet for emphasis.

The supervillian makes a sound like a kettle whistling, before he barks out. “Two of Spades! Ace of Hearts! GET them OUT OF MY SIGHT until they’re WILLING to COOPERATE!!”

The dark haired young man quickly shuffles forward, grabs the back of the chair, and drags it and the poor reporter attached to it out of the room and into the corridor. The metal screeches as it moves from carpet to concrete.

“Wh—Two, no, untie them first.” The man with glasses says, despairing, appearing in the doorway. “You’ll mark up the floor otherwise.”

“Ah! Sorry, senpai!” Two looks between the cat in his arms and the knots on the chair, before shoving the cat into the arms of the redhead who answers to “Ace”. Neither of them look happy with this development.

“Fgnah! Quit squeezing, ya jerk!” The cat protests, wriggling as best it can.

“Oh? What’s that? I’m sorry, I just need to make sure that greatest, lamest supervillain in the city doesn’t escape to go setting random crap in the lair on fire again.” Ace says sweetly, grip tightening.

“Tha’s your fault, an’ you know it!” The cat wheezes out, thrashing harder.

Yuu winces. “Hey, quit hurting him. Whatever he did, he doesn’t deserve this.”

The dark haired minion barks out a laugh as he tugs the ropes away from their right wrist while his redheaded counterpart sneers at them.

“Oh really? Bet you’ll change your tune real quick once you learn it’s thanks to him you’re here in the first place.” Ace of Hearts mocks. “Dumb monster sang like a damn canary when Royal pressured him a tiiiny bit, saying it was all your fault his precious ingredient is now in the sewers.”

“Tha’s a lie!” The monster? cat blurts out too quickly for comfort. “It’s all these two morons, I swear!”

“Why you little—“

“I don’t care.” Yuu cuts in before Two of Spades can hit the animal. “I didn’t destroy that thing, but even if none of you said anything, your boss would’ve found out I was involved anyway from watching my report on it on the news. So I don’t care, just-just quit hurting him.”

There’s a tense moment as the two minions stare down at the reporter. They do their best to meet the gazes without flinching.

Then the Ace of Hearts tosses the cat into their lap as the Two of Spades sinks back down to keep working on their ankle. “Fine. Since you like it so much, you can take care of it. Just don’t expect me to cover for your ass—you still owe me for the power plant.”

“I’m sorry?” Yuu curls their free arm around the bundle of rope, fur, and yowling insults and pulls it closer to them. “Shouldn’t that be the other way round?”

“You locked me in a closet with him!” Ace hisses. “Do you know how hard it was to get out before the cops came with him freaking out and messing stuff up?!”

“Oi.” Two shoots him a dark look from where he’s finished untying the reporter’s left hand. “Like you weren’t whining about us being digested until you knocked a broom over!”

“Sh-shut up!”

“Well excuse me for trying to save your lives.” Yuu bites back, rubbing the rope marks on their wrists. “Next time I’ll just run and let the sludge monster eat your unconscious bodies.”

“It’d save us all the trouble of this shit if you did!” Ace spits, jabbing a finger at his collar. “At least then we wouldn’t be on Royal’s shit list!”

Yuu lets the piece of information they were just given marinate in their brain as they glare at him. Well, now what exactly was that supposed to mean?

“Ngh...this knot won’t come loose.” Two says from by the reporter’s left foot.

“How about now?” Replies an unfamiliar voice, as a disembodied hand pulls deftly at a loop in the rope.

“Ah!” Two of Spades brightens up as the rest of the rope falls away. “Thanks a lot—”

The disembodied hand punches him in the face.

Yuu cries out in alarm at the sight of the minion falling backwards into the Ace of Hearts, knocking him down like a bowling pin.

A pair of clawed hands are then scooping them up, extra cat and all, and the reporter finds themself looking at the unsettlingly wide smile and purple cat ears of one of the city’s top heroes, running at full speed while sharpened playing cards whizz past his face and Ace calls out behind them “Senpai! It’s him again!!”

There’s a percussive boom somewhere in the distance, and screams of how the flamingos are loose as the hero winks down at Yuu. “Seems you’re a popular one today, kitten! But let’s get you back to where you where before you were so rudely catnapped, yes?”

“Not so fast, hero!” The orange haired guy choruses from the entrance to the staircase, and—from behind them as well?

The reporter’s heart sinks as more and more versions of the minion keep popping up around them, to the point where the hero is forced to stand on the bannister of the balcony they’re on.

And based on the fact that the hero hasn’t used his invisibility? Intangibility? powers, it’s likely that he can’t use them while holding Yuu and the cat.

They’re surrounded.

“You really can’t keep your paws out of anything that’s mine, can you?” Royal Flush’s tone is clipped as he glares up at the hero.

“Hey R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero pouts, hugging Yuu closer to his chest. “I come a~ll this way to play, only to find you’ve got a nyew toy you’re already playing with without me! How mean! You guys really are cruel!!”

“We’re sorry about that.” Three of Clovers says, edging closer. “If you just hand the reporter over to Four, they’ll be put away and we can all “play” together, no distractions. Doesn’t that sound nice?”

The hero makes a deliberating noise, holding Yuu out and away from him over the drop, tilting his head this way and that.

His grin grows unsettlingly wider.

“Look, R-kun, Three-kun!” The hero calls out. “Nyo hands!”

Wait, what—

The hero’s body vanishes.

Yuu and the monster cat plummet screaming past the illogically winding staircases of the evil lair.

Yuu tries to angle their body so that the frantically crying cat will be shielded from the brunt of the fall—!

“NO!!”

There’s a sound like glass shattering, and a feeling of being enveloped in something soft, cold and buoyant. The two of them bounce a few times and land back on it more gently each time.

Yuu cracks open their eyes to see that they’re seated on a strange, red, jelly-like mass. The cat in their arms tentatively sniffs, and then lunges to take a bite out of their cushion before the reporter can stop him.

“Shtrawberry?” He says through a full mouth. “Tashtes good!”

The reporter grabs him before he can go for another bite, a little thrown by his speed now that collar isn’t weighing him down. But where did this thing come from–?

Yuu looks up.

Royal Flush is leaning dangerously far over the balcony countless flights of stairs above them, one arm outstretched down towards them.

They stare at each other for a moment.

Then clawed hands fasten around Yuu’s waist again with a cheery “Nyow wasn’t that fun?” and Royal Flush visibly tenses and begins screaming things after the escaping hero that are barely legible through his rage.

The hero deposits them both outside the TWST news station with their wallet and phone back in their pockets. He at least helps them untie the monster cat, who promptly declares he just let them protect him, and scarpers.

Of course the hero is gone too when Yuu turns back around, before they can ask him what the hell he was playing at, dropping them like that, was he insane?! If Royal Flush hadn’t interfered...

The reporter has to fight the urge to lose their lunch.

Their boss rushes out and envelopes them in a surprisingly powerful hug, the woman almost lifting the reporter off their feet as she babbles about whether or not Yuu needs a hospital after getting kidnapped by one of the seven major supervillains.

Yuuken is quick to join the embrace with a bear hug of his own. He pulls back, fingers prodding gently at Yuu’s bruised temple and declaring he’ll drive them to hospital to make sure they don’t have a concussion.

He graciously waits until they’re in the car to ask why Yuu smells so much of strawberries.

The reporter can only give a half answer, partly because they don’t want to worry him, and partly because they have another question of their own buzzing incessantly around their brain.

Why was Yuu kidnapped in the first place?

Royal Flush never even mentioned Crowley, despite all the chances he had to do so. Not even an oblique or confusing metaphor or code. Does that mean he’s ignorant of the connection between Yuu and the League?

But if that’s the case, it circles back around to the first question: why kidnap Yuu to begin with?

Somehow the reporter doubts it was to just ask their tea preferences or invite them to dinner.

Those minions referred to that monster as Royal Flush’s “precious ingredient”. Ingredient for what? Is there something that Royal Flush thinks they witnessed that’s integral to a scheme? Did they witness something and just not realize it’s significance?

Yuu’s reporter senses are screaming that there’s a deeper story to uncover here. Yuu’s common sense is screaming that investigating the dangerous plans of the supervillain they’ve just escaped from is a terrible idea.

Though he could have just...let them fall. But he didn’t. And won’t he just kidnap them again regardless?

...

This is a terrible idea.

But if Yuu’s common sense was stronger than their reporter senses, then they wouldn’t be in this city in the first place, would they?

[just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi]

Found - Rudy, Mason, and Clyde

The end! Of the arc! Whooo this has been fun! Thanks to all who read. (i'm not down with them as oc's but this arc is over.)

TW: whumper as caretaker, stressed whumper/caretaker, distant whumper/caretaker, drugging tw, implied changing of clothes, implied bathing,

[Masterlist] [Stalker Arc Tag]

Mason was sitting at his desk, vigorously typing an email to the support of every social media platform he could. They weren’t giving him anything, even though he knew that they had the information. They must - companies are always doing shit like that. Tracking. Monitoring. They knew who this creep was and they were protecting them.

At this point, he was ready to get his lawyer involved if he got yet another generic-reply email.

Clyde was curled under his desk. He hadn’t done that in years, not since he was new and very attached to his new Master. Mason trained it out of him a while ago, but something about the familiar place was safe for him right now. So, Mason allowed it.

His phone rang and he reached for it automatically. There had been a lot of calls over the last couple days, and he was nearly fed up with them.

“Hello?”

“Hello, is this Mason Driver?”

He took a deep breath and massaged the bridge of his nose. “It is, who is speaking?”

“Hi this is Amber from the Lakefield Pet Shelter? We have your pet here-”

Mason stood quickly, accidentally kicking Clyde in the process. “Ah, fuck, sorry bud. Is he okay? Who brought him in? Is he hurt? Where is Lakefield I want to come pick him up-”

“Sir, sir, please slow down. He’s okay, he’s got a sprained ankle and is a little roughed up in general, but he’s okay. You can come pick him up at any time, someone from the local department already came and spoke to him.”

A strange sense of anger swelled in him for a moment that someone questioned his pet without him there, but he shoved it away quickly. Other things to focus on, other things he had to do. The woman was still talking but Mason was distracted looking for his keys.

“Can I pick him up tonight? Now?”

There was a small pause. “Yes, Mr. Driver, you can come get him tonight.” After a couple other bits of information, Mason left the house to go get his pet.

Clyde crawled out from under the desk, rubbing his sore hand, a bit confused but hopeful he was understanding half the conversation correctly.

~~

The first thing Mason felt when he saw Rudy hobble out to meet him was relief. Relief that he was back, he was safe, that he was here. Then it was anger. Anger and resentment at the brace around the boy’s ankle, the wraps around his wrists and neck, the bandaids on his face. He had to force his face to remain happy and neutral when he saw the bruise on Rudy’s temple.

“Master!” he cried, nearly falling into the kneeling man’s arms. Mason held him close, arms wrapped around.

“Rudy, thank fucking god you’re okay. I was so worried, oh my god. When I find out who took you I’m gonna-”

“Y-you, you know him, Master,” came Rudy’s muffled voice and Mason pulled him away, held tight by his shoulders.

“What?! Who, who the hell would do that? Someone that I know?”

“It was C-Casey, Master.”

Mason’s face grew grave, clenching his teeth. He should have fucking known. Of course, of fucking course Casey would pull some shit like this. Obviously Mason had called out of work, didn’t care what was going on back at the office during the few days Rudy was gone.

Rudy whimpered and Mason released his right grip. “Oh, I’m sorry Sweetheart. God, that fucking snake. I’m going to ruin his whole goddamn life, just wait and see if I don’t completely blacklist him. He’ll never fucking work with pets again.”

“Sir,” hinted one of the workers, reminding Mason of the other people in the lobby. He didn’t care.

“Come on, let's get you out of here.”

The worker nodded and gestured for them to come up to the counter. “He’s ready to go, just need to go over some paperwork and at home care for the other injuries.”

Rudy pressed himself into Mason side as the man’s brow furrowed. “Other injuries? What happened?”

“He’s a little bit dehydrated, but that should go away in a day or two. The bandages around his wrists and neck are to keep him at scratching at the healing skin, so you’ll need to keep those and on use this ointment that’s listed here. Same for the welts on his back. His ankle is sprained but not too badly, so follow up with your regular provider for that. Other than that, you’re good to go.”

Mason swallowed and signed the forms without another word, not trusting himself to say something he’d regret. Besides, it wasn’t their fault.

On the way out, he was already calling his lawyer to get every medical expense taken out of Casey - money or blood.

~~

Clyde was at the door, bouncing at his heels as the key turned. He had been looking out the window, saw when they pulled up. Saw when Rudy got out of the car! He was limping but he was there. He was home.

The older pet nearly knocked him over as they came through the door. Mason had to grab him by the back of his collar to drag him off.

“Clyde! Back! You know better what the hell,” Mason muttered, setting him down on the ground a foot or two away. Clyde looked up at him, clearly wanting to go back to Rudy. Mason rubbed his temples, too tired and frustrated and betrayed to deal with this.

“Room.”

Both boys whimpered, Rudy tugging on the hem of Mason’s shirt to silently plead him not to. “Now, Clyde. He’s fine. Just go upstairs so you’re not underfoot.”

Clyde gave him such wide, hurt, miserable eyes that Mason nearly took it all back. He sighed, but held firm. He said what he said and Clyde needed to obey that. With another glance back at his friend. Clyde crept up the stairs. Rudy whined after him over Mason's shoulder as the man picked him up and carried him to the living room to set him on the couch.

The boy whimpered as Mason walked away, but quieted after a shush.

Mason stood in the kitchen, holding onto the counter and stared at the tile backsplash. Why was this so hard? Rudy was back, he was going to be fine, the police found Casey and his lawyer said his case was good over the phone. He shouldn’t feel so tense, so tight-wound and anxious. The boy was right out there - why couldn’t Mason accept it?

He rubbed a hand across his short stubble and grabbed a water bottle from the fridge, along with a drink for Rudy. He just needed time, he guessed. Needed to sleep, and probably eat something, and he’d calm down. Meandering back into the living room, he texted his boss that he was taking some personal time off.

Rudy was curled up on against the armrest, tears bright in his eyes. Mason regretted snapping at him, at both of them, but it would pass. They probably wouldn’t even remember tomorrow.

“Hey bud, drink up. How are you feeling, are you hurting?” He asked as he opened the lid for him.

The boy grabbed the bottle and took a sip, nodding slowly. “I, I’m okay.” His lip was quivering, breath shallow and shaky.

“I missed you,” he confessed as he broke, reaching up for Mason who immediately sat down with him. “I m-missed you s-so much, and Clyde, and h-home, I wanted to get away. I was so scared and c-confused and he was mean and hurt me and-”

Mason shushed him gently, pulling him close and petting his hair. “I know, I know Sweetheart. I’m so sorry that happened - I promise, it will never happen again.”

“He wrote on m-my, my scan-y thing,” Rudy said, itching at the side of his shirt. “And, and he took my collar and made me wear a muzzle that cut my mouth and I didn’t eat because- because I just couldn’t and-”

Mason shushed him again, and this time took his drink so he could really lay the boy down. Poor thing was spiraling, clearly over-stressed and exhausted too. “Shh, Rudy, you need to relax. You’re okay.”

“-he, he made me so confused, Master,” Rudy continued, seemingly unable to stop confessing everything that had happened. “I-I know I belonged to you, because, because of m-my collar and my chip but he made me wear his collar and I started to get confused and forget and uh, hng, I, I think I might have called him Master once and I’m sorry! He wasn’t always bad and one time he pet my hair and I tried to struggle but I didn’t that time and I’m sorry.”

“Okay, okay woah bud you need to slow down. You’re okay, you don’t have to talk about all this right now. I know, I know.” A pause as Mason thought. “Do I need to get something to calm you down?”

“I think I was bad?” Rudy started again, rubbing his eyes and hiccuping. He wasn’t listening to what Mason was saying, which was a kind of answer in itself. He was just more convinced of his choice as when he stood, the boy kept muttering confessions to himself. He’d have to re-visit some training in the next couple days, he reconned, just to correct some thoughts that asshole had implanted.

Rudy took the pill unusually well, words petering out until he was quiet. Mason rubbed his head just the way he knew the boy loved, listening to the unconscious hums of contentment.

“Lets get you to bed early tonight, hm? We’ll deal with all this in the morning.”

He seemed much heavier, now that he was out of it. Mason still got him upstairs, sat him on the bathroom counter to clean him up a little. It also gave him a better chance to see Rudy’s injuries without the boy wiggling and squirming everywhere.

It made his blood boil.

He had seen worse, he had definitely seen worse just walking down the street but that didn’t fucking matter. Rudy was his, and he had not given permission for someone to treat his pet like this. The muzzle had clearly been too tight, chafing and rubbing the sides of his face raw. Same for the collar, and the scratch marks from where Rudy had been clearly trying to get it off. Bruises on his hands and knees, what seemed like a bit of blood in his hair.

Mason cleaned him up the best he could, until the only proof left visible were the bandages and bandaids. He changed those, too, to some colorful ones he had for the boys. Rudy would like those better when he was awake.

After changing him into his pajamas, Mason carried him to his own bedroom and put him on the bed. He sighed and went to go get Clyde.

Clyde was in his room, standing in his pajamas right by the door. The boy had obviously been crying, gently cradling his bruised hand. Mason picked it up carefully, examining it.

“Shit, did I do that, Bugs?” he said, convicted. Clyde didn’t really answer him, eyes glancing from him to the door repeatedly. Mason sighed with a tired smile.

“Yeah, go see him.”

In a flash the boy was gone, down the hall to be with his friend. Mason turned the light off in their room before he went to join them.

Finally, back together. As they should be.

~

tag: @whumpingredroses @as-a-matter-of-whump @albino-whumpee @whumpeesblog @suspicious-whumping-egg

[red1culous]

Oh part 4

Part 1 // 2 // 3 // 4 // 5 // 6 // 7

After a few hours chatting with Carol and schmoozing with a few very posh looking people you made your escape claiming there was a kitchen emergency you had to manage. As you rushed up the side entrance of the house you stop mid step, balancing yourself against the railing to massage your calves. How come socialising was more tiring than baking?

“Hey stranger” a gruff male voice breaks your peace and startles you. 

You turn abruptly clutching you chest dramatically. “Barnes I told you to stop sneaking up on me!”

He laughs softly, something you were still not used to, as he shifts to face you on the step he’s sitting on. “Sorry,” he says giving you the once over, “you made these?” he lifts a plate filled to the brim with cupcakes.

You give him a warm smile which he returns with a toothy grin. Bits of cream stick to his stubble. “Depends. You like ‘em?” 

He quirks his eyebrow at you as he takes a huge bite into a cupcake smearing some of the cream onto his top lip and nose. Closing his eyes he lets out a filthy moan which causes you to laugh out loud.

“Ok ok in that case, yes I made them!” you say still laughing a little. He smiles at your admission and pats the stone step beside him. 

“What are you doing all the way back here? Shouldn’t you be out there mingling? Raking in the dollar bills?” you poke your elbow into his side once you’re settled in close enough stealing some of his body heat.

“You make it sound dirty” he smirks as he continues to demolish the plate of cupcakes.

You reach for the napkin he has stuffed in his breast pocket and wipe at his nose. “When you strip it bare, it kinda is like that, isn’t it?” you add.

“Suppose so, doll. Suppose we’re all here to be fucked in the ass.”

You stare at him wide eyed.

“What?” he exclaims.

“What do you mean what? When did you get so potty mouthed?” you answer fixing him a serious look.

He chuckles and mumbles something that sounds like a sorry heavily mixed in with cupcake mix. “Guess you haven’t been around to keep me in line.”

“I couldn’t exactly hang around, Buck. She broke up with me…” you sigh and he wraps an arm around your shoulders to pull you in for a brief side hug.

“I didn’t break up with you” a voice sounds from behind you. It’s so unexpected you shoot up from your seat and stumble backwards only to be stopped by Bucky’s hand grabbing your ankle steadying you a little.

“I didn’t break up with you” she repeats, more defensively this time. 

You laugh shaking your head from side to side. This was bound to happen to why not have it out here and now. “The hell you didn’t! Did I misunderstand you distancing yourself from me? That’s called a breakup.”

Bucky stands and makes to leave but you force him back down by shooting him a deathly glare. He attempts to make himself as small as possible but fails miserably. Instead he busies himself in studying the intricate design of your cupcakes bringing his legs further into his chest rocking gently back and forth. “I was giving you time to think” she says coming out of the doorway so you can see her better.

“Time I didn’t need, Nat” you look at her for a long moment feeling your gaze get even darker, even harder than it already was. “You made promises to me,” your voice gentling slightly as your stomach was knotting around itself. “I believed in them.”

“I never made any promises I couldn’t keep,” she corrects you. Her voice is an octave deeper, rougher than it was before. “I never have and you know that,” she adds, her voice laced with a world of pain and emotions you didn’t want to acknowledge. 

Your own hurt is spiked by her words. It suddenly becomes hard to breathe, or feel anything other than the temper that was rising like bile in your throat. It galloped through you. “Do you expect me to believe you’ve been sitting around mourning over something you caused? You had me eating out of the palm of your hand but I guess that was not exciting enough in the end” you spit. 

“Sometimes two people need to fall apart to realise how much they need to fall back together” she shrugs but you catch a glimpse of vulnerability in the way she looks at you. Her eyes scan your face and you notice the way her chin quivers slightly. 

“Don’t give me that pop culture bullshit” you shake your head again. You wanted to fight, you didn’t want to feel. 

“I need to go…” you trail off making to step away before she lunges forward almost touching you. 

“Wait!” she pulls herself away slightly. “I broke up with you because I’m cold at the core.” Her eyes search yours hopefully before continuing. “Because I have a hard sadistic streak right down the middle of me. I make you love me and then say it’s not good enough.” She stops as you lean back against the railing. It felt as if she had taken one of the knives you knew she had strapped to her thigh and chopped you off at the knees.

You raise an eyebrow and she goes on. “I broke up with you because I play this game where I see how much you can take before it wears you out. Before I force you to leave me.”

“Nat I didn’t come here to fight” you say your voice resigned and more so just tired of having this all dredged up again. 

“I don’t want to break up with you.” She says just as quietly before wrapping her arms around her torso as if she didn’t know what to do with them. 

“We are broken up,” you reply trying to keep your voice as flat as possible.  “What do you want, Nat?” 

“I want to be with you, Y/N. Properly. This time I promise. You and all your fucking breadcrumbs and pastry mix and cream and cookie dough.” She takes a small step towards you, hopeful. Even Bucky looks up at you from his gargoyle pose.

You stare at her. She stares back. You felt your resolve falter. She had read your desire to fight in spite of what you had said and she managed to throw ice cold water over your flames. 

“I love you, Y/N.” She whispers but you hear her loud and clear. “I’m sorry.”

You hated the fact that you were slowly losing the edge on your temper. She was forcing you to feel things you thought you had buried years ago. She was forcing you to look under the rug for your shared history. You wished they could just remain untouched but she had rolled up that rug and everything was up in the air. Exposed. Visible. Real.

You stare her down. You’re sure she can feel the anger simmering off of you. Something thicker and darker than anything before.

“You still love me,” she says eyes glistening slightly.

You scrunch up your forehead at her words. “I’m angry.”

“Yes but that look is also love. You still love me, Y/N” she smiles a little and if you weren’t so conflicted you might’ve allowed yourself to return her smile.

“This look?” you point to your face but don’t deny her either.

“I know you’re pissed off at me” she adds.

“You say that like you’re surprised” you say after a moment. “Of course I’m pissed. Not actively. It doesn’t keep me up at night anymore.” You pinch the sides of your nose. 

“I was in love with you. And you broke my heart. Its taken me a long time to get over that. Over you.” You say after a moment. If she wanted all the cards on the table than she was going to get it. No holds barred.

Her mouth curves slightly but not into a smile. 

You blow out a breath, not feeling entirely steady on your own two feet. “I should really go” you say again.

“Why can’t we fight for this again? Together this time,” she says taking another small step towards you. 

“Because Natasha,” you sigh out loud, “you shouldn’t need to fight for love.” 

You feel sick. Again. Sick of digging into the past. Sick of diving into the dark where you can’t see past your outstretched hand. Where you can’t win and you can’t lose. There was only how much it hurt and how much more it could hurt. 

----

Tagging: @thewidowintheweb​   @natasharomanoffismywife​  @imnotasuperhero​  @cybeleceto​  @silverwing2522​  @thelastavenger-3000​  @peggycarter-steverogers​  @rooskaya-yelena  @blackwidowromonoff​  @lesbian-x-blackwidow​  @nowthisisliving27​   @izalesbean​  @aaron-despair​  @marvelfansince08love​  @rileigh519​   @wannabe-fic-reader​  @hcartbyheart​  @marvel-randomness​  @thewitchandtheassassin  @username23345​  @xixxiixx​  @rebeliz777​  @summergeezburr​  @frostedfavesmain​  @higherfurther-romanova​ @sapphicluxanna @xxxtwilightaxelxxx​ @madamevirgo​

[firstofficerwiggles]

Beskar and Lace

Pairing: Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: Explicit, 18+ only

Warnings: SMUT! swearing, masturbation, voyeurism (just a touch), oral (m receiving), unprotected sex (be safe in the real world, people)

Summary: Mando takes issue with what you wear to bed, so you decide to show him some other options and spiciness ensues.

Word Count: ~8700

Author’s Note: This was an idea I had when I wrote Dress Code but I couldn’t find a way to make it fit into that story so I wrote it as a stand-alone. If you’ve read my other stuff, you should know this is the smuttiest thing I’ve written to date, but while it’s not the softer Din I’ve written in the past, he still manages to be romantic in his own way. In any case, I hope you enjoy!

“Do you always dress like that for bed?” Mando’s voice catches you by surprise. He sounds a bit incredulous and you’re caught off guard because usually you’re already in bed fast asleep before he’s down here. You look down at your simple knee-length cotton nightgown, why should he care what you wear to bed?

“Yes? It’s a nightgown,” you reply, unsure of his reason for asking.

“It’s rather skimpy.” His voice sounds gruff, and disapproving?

You just blink back at the visor in his helmet for a moment and then glance down at yourself again in confusion.

“Skimpy?” He must be joking. “This is just like a longer shirt? I know it has short sleeves but, really, skimpy?” Now your voice sounds incredulous. This nightgown doesn’t even have much shape to it anymore having been washed and worn so often. Mando is standing there rigidly though, seemingly serious. You watch him as he tips his helmet down and up as if he is looking you over thoroughly and you feel your skin heat up under his gaze.

“It’s skimpy. I can practically see through it.” He says definitively. “You should cover up more. Space is cold.” His voice is still gruff and his commanding tone is starting to irritate you a bit, although you do have to tamp down your excitement at the see-through comment. Who does he think he is? You’re not some bounty he can push around. And why are you interested in him seeing through your nightgown??

“I’ve been wearing this every night since I took this job, and I’m perfectly comfortable” you tell him “besides, I don’t see what business it is of yours.” You reply a little haughty in an attempt to keep this conversation somewhat professional, Mando is your boss after all. You’ve been caring for his foundling for about six months now.

“It’s my business if you get sick.” Mando retorts.

“I’ll be fine.” You roll your eyes at his suggestion. He’s being ridiculous. “You’re worrying about nothing.”

Mando lets out one of his long-suffering sighs as if you are the burden of his existence before telling you, “We’ll be in Canto Bight tomorrow. There are plenty of shops there and I expect you to buy yourself some new to wear to bed.”

“Alright, fine.” His tone implies that you shouldn’t argue with him about this. He turns abruptly and heads to his bunk, closing the door without another word.

What the hell was that? You stare after him, utterly perplexed by that conversation. Again, you look down at the nightgown, and while you have to admit it is looking rather old and maybe a little ratty, you would never see it as something skimpy or even something that Mando would see necessary to comment on. You wonder for a minute if something else could be bothering him, perhaps he was just taking a bad mood out on you? You rack your brain but things have been rather routine lately and you chalk it up to Mando being under a lot of stress as per usual. You head to your sleeping area, a little space you’ve carved out for yourself in a corner of the hull, and try to will your mind to sleep. Yet, you can’t stop replaying the whole conversation in your head. You also can’t stop the evil part of your mind that wants to jump for joy that Mando was looking over your body so intently. Ok, so maybe you have had one or two (or three or four) improper thoughts about your boss. I mean you’re not made of stone. He’s so tall and big and built it would make any woman a little curious. Then when you add in that constant bedroom voice that he has, it’s completely understandable. At least that’s what you tell yourself. Plus, he’s also a great father, so kind and caring towards his adopted son – your evil mind has no mercy on you. You roll over with a groan, mentally kicking yourself for your full-blown crush on the Mandalorian. I am an idiot.

I am a total idiot. What the fuck must she think of me? Din can’t sleep either; he is also plagued with thoughts of you. Not that this is anything new for him. He hasn’t been able to stop thinking about you for months and months now. Din knows that he needs your help to care for the little one and he has tried so hard to be professional around you and not scare you off. From the moment he hired you he thought you were way too pretty, but he was so desperate for the help that he told himself he wouldn’t become distracted. Clearly, that was a lie. Whenever he’s around you, he can’t stop himself from being distracted, watching you tenderly care for the child, listening for your laughter and happy words, and living for the moments when you turn towards him with a smile or a kind gesture. Oh and if he thought you were pretty when you first met, now Din realizes that you are the most beautiful woman he’s ever known. Everything about you seems to turn him on, the curve of your lips when you say his nickname, the scent of your hair when it’s still damp from the shower, the sway of your hips when you rock the baby to sleep, the few times you’ve touched his bicep between his armor, all of it.

Ugh, but tonight, tonight was the closest he’s come to losing control around you. Usually Din tries to give you as much space as possible, waiting until he knows you’re in bed before going to bed himself. Except tonight, he came downstairs earlier than usual, and saw you wearing that thin little excuse for a nightgown. His heart skipped several beats when he realized he could see the outline of your figure right through it. It had him hard and wanting in seconds and so, he had picked a bit of a fight with you to preserve some semblance of normalcy. He sighed to himself again, he had sounded like a prudish jerk. But it was the right choice, and besides, you should get new nightclothes, something that would cover you up and keep his eyes off you. Who the fuck are you kidding? You’re still going to look at her. He groans at himself.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

With the baby in tow in his little satchel, you explore the wealth of shopping in Canto Bight. Mando wasn’t kidding when he said there were plenty of stores here. It seems like the only things to do here are gamble, shop, and party. Mando is meeting with a client and for once, he’s given you some freedom to explore. You’re in one of the nicer casinos here and there are plenty of other tourists around, so you know that it must be safe or Mando would insist on accompanying you. Fortunately, you haven’t had to make many purchases in the time that you’ve been with Mando. He never lets you chip in for food or fuel, so you’ve mostly been saving your credits all this time. As you pass through the shops today, you marvel at the beautiful clothes, shoes, the fancy housewares, and so much more. You can’t resist buying the child a couple adorable plushy toys, including a frog that he immediately tries to eat before you gently explain to him that it is a toy. You decide to focus after that on your mission to buy a new nightgown and maybe some pajamas. You’ve made a few purchases, finding a couple soft pairs of pajamas that will be very relaxing and a very boring nightgown that comes down to your ankles, Mando’s style exactly, shows almost no skin. There’s no way he can find fault with these. As you continue through the shopping center, the baby suddenly reaches out as you pass a shop to grab something blue and silky. When you pry his little claws off the material, thankful that he hasn’t damaged it in any way, you realize it is a beautiful negligee. You look up at the rest of the store to see a lovely collection of mouth-watering lingerie. Evil You is back in a heartbeat. Maybe you should show Mando the true meaning of skimpy?

“Come in, come in!” The friendly sales woman sees you lingering at the entrance, “Everything is on sale today and we have so many fabulous items for you!” Her spirit and energy are captivating and you can’t help yourself. You follow her into the shop, letting your wicked thoughts get the best of you. You find yourself telling her that you need some sexy items for bedtime and the next thing you know you’re in the dressing room trying on increasingly delectable pieces of silk and lace. The baby has made himself at home in the waiting area sitting on a satin pillow and being fed fancy macarons by another sales woman, acting like the little prince that he is.

You admire yourself in the mirror, and although you have to admit that you look great, you can’t stop the debate going on in your head.

I am being ridiculous, buying lingerie to impress a man I’m not even involved with.

Yet! You’re not involved with him yet.

Shut up, I shouldn’t be thinking of Mando like this.

Why not? He’s hot, you’re hot, stop overthinking it.

I do look pretty hot in this.

Yes, you do! And you can buy it for yourself too. You deserve to look hot!

It’s ok if it’s for me. I can buy this for me. I’m a strong, confident, sexy woman who buys herself lingerie.

Of course you are!!!

And who is Mando to tell me what I can and can’t wear? If I want to wear something skimpy, I will.

That’s right, girl! You’ll show him!

You’ve completely talked yourself into buying several of the negligees, one of which is so sexy you’re not sure if you really have the confidence to wear it, but you’re feeling daring. You justify it in your mind by reminding yourself that everything is on sale, and who knows when you’ll have another opportunity to shop like this. You even end up getting a bottle of scented lotion that the saleswoman recommends as guaranteed to drive your man wild. Not that you care about that, you lie to yourself, it’s for you, the strong, confident, sexy woman.

“That was completely necessary,” you tell the baby as you brush the cookie crumbs from his robe and resettle him in his satchel while the sales women box up all of your purchases. They even include a bag of macarons for the child for later; he’s thoroughly charmed the women working here, and gives everyone a happy coo and waves goodbye like you taught him. You head back to the Razor Crest, thinking that you should probably quit before you get yourself into too much trouble.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It takes a while to get the baby to bed that evening as he’s still wound up on all the sugar and is likely reacting to the buzzing energy you have going on. Evil You has decided to be sure that Mando sees you in one of your new negligees tonight. He saw all of your boxes and bags earlier and gave you a brisk nod in seeing that you followed his instructions. You even went so far as to pull out the modest nightgown to demonstrate how well you listened to him, all the while, Evil You was cackling about what you really have in store for him. While he’s still up in the cockpit, you take your time getting ready for bed. You moisturize your skin all over with your new lotion, it does smell divine, and then you put on a beautiful black silk chiffon chemise with pale pink lace trim. It’s sexy without giving too much away, but still the hemline reaches only to mid-thigh and the neckline provides a generous view of your décolletage. And unlike the shapelessness of the old gown, this shows off your figure flawlessly. Your timing is perfect as you are just coming out of the fresher when Mando’s boots hit the floor of the hull. When he turns and sees you he stops dead and is so still you’d think he’d been frozen in carbonite like one of his bounties except you can still hear him breathing, rather heavily, you think. You decide to feign innocence, blinking up at him to say, “Oh, good night, Mando! Just on my way to bed.”

He stares at you for what feels like an eternity, not moving at all, until he grits out, “What. Is. That.”

“Oh! It’s one of my new nightgowns,” you keep up the wide-eyed act, “The sales woman said it was one of the most popular styles.” You even give a little half twirl to show it off, oh Maker, I am too much. You desperately want to ask him what he thinks but something tells you that you shouldn’t push him anymore yet.

“That is not the nightgown you showed me before,” his voice sounds accusatory.

You give a dainty shrug and say, “I was feeling too warm for that one.”

Mando doesn’t respond, but you watch as his hands curl into fists making the leather of his gloves squeak with the tightness. He watches you for a few more seconds before he abruptly turns away from you and stomps back up the ladder to the cockpit. Uh-oh that wasn’t the reaction you were hoping to get from him. Should I go apologize? Did I offend him by flouting some type of Mandalorian modesty rule?

In the cockpit, Din is absolutely shuddering with the strength of his need for you. His beskar feels claustrophobic and he has to rip the helmet off his head just so he can draw a full breath. He throws himself into the pilot’s seat and is already undoing his trousers to free his rock-hard cock before he even knows what he’s doing. He pulls off his right glove and quickly licks his palm, before gripping himself roughly, so he can fuck his own fist at a punishing pace. Seeing you in that lingerie, Maker, it was better than anything his imagination had invented. Plus, the way you smelled, like some type of delicious fruit mixed with an earthy spice. He thought he was going to pass out from how fast all the blood in his body had rushed to his groin. As he pumps himself, Din moans your name and thinks about you wearing that negligee while riding his cock right here in his chair. He fantasizes about how he could tug down those delicate little straps and free your breasts with almost no effort, and how good that silk would feel swishing against his skin as he thrust up into you. It was enough to send him over the edge, cumming with another loud moan of your name. Does she have any idea what she’s doing to me?

Well, you had some idea now. Your entire body was tingling and hot after hearing Mando’s sounds of self-pleasure coming from the cockpit. After his abrupt departure, you had stayed dithering for a few moments in the hull, until you had started to climb the ladder with a plan to check on him and possibly apologize. However, as soon as you realized what he was doing up there you froze and remained out of view. You knew you should have crept back down and given him some privacy, but when you heard him call out your name, it was like nothing could move you from that spot. He wanted you. It made you giddy with desire and you felt a surge of feminine power that you could bring out such a feeling in him. Hearing Mando like that had turned you on like nothing before and you were eager to touch yourself too, but the shuffling sounds of his boots suddenly brought you back to reality and you dashed to your bed as stealthily as you could. You resorted to squeezing your thighs together under the covers and pretending to sleep as you heard him return to the hull. It wasn’t until you were certain he was shut away in his own sleeping quarters, that you finally allowed yourself to dip your fingers into your soaking folds. Holding your other hand over your mouth to stifle any moans, you drew rapid circles around your clit and remembered how Mando had groaned your name. You were so excited that all it took was one finger into your wet heat and you were seeing stars as you reached your climax. You fell into a blissful sleep, dreaming about what you were going to wear tomorrow night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The next day you woke up cheerful, still high from your discovery the night before. You remembered that Mando had said his next bounty was far away and that you’d be in hyperspace for almost four days, which meant you would have plenty of time to spend with him. You practically bounded out of bed, eager to start your day.

Din noticed your happy mood right away as it was such a contrast to his own frustrated and grouchy disposition that morning. His dreams had been full of you, and he had woken up hard and needy but was too angry at his lack of self-control to let himself indulge in jerking off again. He had been banging around the hull like an angry bear for most of the morning, but when you softly approached him with a plate of food and hot cup of tea, and that beaming smile on your face, he felt himself give in a little to your positivity. Then, the friendly way you had patted his pauldron and wished him a good morning, had stifled any desire to grumble at you. It’s not her fault you’re like this.

The rest of the day had passed surprisingly well and Din found his mood lifting substantially. His usual plan to shut himself away somewhere hadn’t panned out as you seemed to seek him out all day long. First, you had him playing games with you and the baby, then, you had decided it was lesson time and you asked Din to help you with that (you were trying to teach the child colors), and then later when the child was napping, you had come to sit near him, drawing him into conversation. In addition to being around him, it also seemed like you couldn’t stop touching him. All day you had found ways to make contact, a small squeeze of his bicep to get his attention, a brush of your hand on his back as you passed him, a little pat on his knee when he praised the child for knowing what blue was, and a couple others that didn’t appear to have any particular meaning. Not that he was complaining; Din lived for those small touches. The day had turned out to be pleasant and he was looking forward to getting some better sleep tonight.

Din had just finished putting away his dinner dishes when he heard you coming out of the fresher and heading towards your sleeping area. He knew you would need to pass by him and he had steeled himself for seeing you. He felt confident that he could keep everything in check tonight, telling himself it had only been the shock of seeing you in such a revealing outfit that had provoked him so much last night. Now that he knew what you’d be wearing, he could handle it, he was prepared. Except you weren’t wearing the same thing, oh no, tonight you had some silky red number on that clung tightly to every curve and only barely covered your ass. To make matters worse, he could see your hard nipples right through the material.

“Dank farrik!”

“Excuse me?” You startled at the sudden curse being uttered.

Shit, he’d said that aloud, “I uh, I stubbed my toe” he lies to you, like an idiot. He tries to turn away from you in hopes of putting you off.

“Oh no, are you ok?” You head toward him with concern in your eyes. Fuck, fuck, fuck you’re getting closer to him and reaching out a hand like you intend to touch him again. If you touch him right now there won’t be any way he can control himself, he’ll have you up against that wall in a heartbeat, or maybe tossed over those crates, shit, get it the fuck together. He practically jumps away from you, mutters something about the fresher, and makes a mad dash to the shower. He turns the water to the coldest setting and rips off his armor and clothes as hastily as he can. The jolt to his system from the icy stream is enough to help his mind calm down a little but it’s doing nothing for his raging erection. He groans and reaches to stroke himself. Before he knows it, he’s painting his stomach with his release, coming so hard he pounds his other fist against the wall as he cries out your name. He’s thankful that at least the water should drown out any sounds.

Out in the hull, you’re lounging on your bed, trying to stay awake so you can see Mando one more time before he bolts away from you again. You know he has to have gotten a fairly decent look at you in tonight’s lingerie, but banging his toe seemed to have distracted him completely. Which was odd because you’d known Mando to sustain much worse injuries with little to no reaction in the past. Unless he was only using the toe as an excuse? Maybe he’s not really that into you? Had he dashed away to spare you any embarrassment? Perhaps last night had been a one off. But then today you could have sworn he was responding to your flirting. You’re going back and forth in your mind when you suddenly hear a loud bang coming from the fresher followed by a loud groan of your name that you can hear even over the running water. Oh, he’s into me. Evil You surges to the surface and has you readjusting your position on the bed to look as seductive as possible. When Mando finally comes out of the fresher, he is wearing nothing but his helmet and his trousers, giving you a fantastic view of his gorgeous chest and torso, bare and still wet from his shower. It’s the most of his skin you’ve ever had the privilege of seeing. You can’t keep your mouth from dropping open as you stare at him.

“You’re still awake,” Mando stops dead when he realizes you’re watching him.

“Uh, yeah, just uh, wanted to make sure, uh, you were ok?” You try to keep your eyes trained on his visor, but you keep failing, getting distracted by the muscles in his chest. Maker, looking up at him from this angle he is so tall and broad.

“I’m f- fine.” He pauses for a long moment remaining statue like, before saying, “Go to sleep. I mean, uh, you should, uh, go to sleep.” It doesn’t seem like he is going to move while you watch him.

“Ok, well, good night then.” You feel disappointed, but roll over and wrap yourself in your blankets. His sigh of relief is small but noticeable in the quiet of the hull. Mando switches off the lights and then you hear his soft shuffle as he heads to his own bed. He pauses though when he gets closer to you. It seems like he’s just standing there looking down at you in the dark, and then you hear his deep voice, “Good night.”

“I hope you sleep well,” you reply softly. He makes a slight sound that almost sounds like “yeah, right” but you can’t be completely sure before he shuts himself away in his bunk. Oh well, you’ll try again one more time tomorrow, you can wear the really sexy one, at least Evil You is still optimistic.

Meanwhile, Din is trying to figure out what the hell is going on. He can’t stop picturing the expression on your face when he was standing there shirtless. Had you been looking at him with shock or desire? It didn’t help matters that you had been sprawled out on your bed looking like the Goddess of Temptation making him painfully hard yet again. He isn’t thinking clearly, it had to be shock, you had never seen him like that, he was always covered, even if it was only in the clothing he wore under the beskar. But what if it was desire? He groans to himself. Even if it had been desire, he’d made a complete ass of himself, and what was he supposed to do now, go back out there and try to get into bed with you?

Yes, do that, you idiot.

Why so she can punch me?

She might not.

Shut up, dumbass!

Din rolls over, sighing to himself, resigning himself to another long night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It’s your turn to groan under the water in the shower, but sadly not from pleasure. It had been a trying day. To say that Mando had been in a mood was an understatement. He had been downright grouchy bordering on sullen. To make matters worse, the child fed off his adoptive father’s terrible disposition and had been extremely fussy all day. You had poured enthusiasm into trying to rouse their spirits, but the more you tried, the more your two boys dug in their heels and refused to be cheered. Eventually, you had given up and just settled for quiet, but the baby had taken that as a personal affront and had a very loud tantrum that had included magically flinging things around the ship. Thank the Maker you still had the bag of macarons from Canto Bight, which you promptly bribed him with to get him to stop. You’d let him eat the entire bag and yeah, that was a parenting don’t, but you were at your wits end and would have given him anything to just make the screaming end. Of course, afterwards, you had the exhausting job of chasing after him all over the ship as he celebrated his sugar high, but at least he was happy. Mando, on the other hand, had taken to working on fix-it projects on the ship, which seemed to really be an excuse for him to swear and bang at something all afternoon. You’d hoped it might help him work out some frustration, but he seemed just as grouchy as ever, barely saying two words to you since you brought him his dinner. So yeah, you aren’t feeling stellar this evening.

The plans for your spicy surprise for Mando have all but disappeared. Before coming into the fresher, you had taken a long look at both the incredibly sexy lace lingerie and the ultra-modest, covers-everything, I-give-up nightgown. You had grabbed both before coming in here, but you still weren’t sure which one you ought to put on.  As you turn off the water, you see them both sitting there, hot versus ho-hum. You know if you put on the boring nightgown, ho-hum is exactly how you are going to feel. Fuck that, I want to feel hot, even if Mando doesn’t care. Mind made up, you grab the new bottle of lotion with a smirk, rubbing the delicious scent all over your skin. Finally turning to the lingerie, you put on the gorgeous set. You weren’t kidding when you said this one was sexy. This negligee is black lace with a metallic silver thread sparkling throughout. The bodice consists of two lace panels that just barely cover your breasts and end in a deep vee right above your navel. The lace of the very short skirt is so sheer that if it weren’t for the matching panties you’re wearing, everything would have been visible. The whole look leaves very little to the imagination, but you don’t care, if this doesn’t get a reaction out of the Mandalorian, your only other option is to walk around naked in front of him. Hey, now there’s an idea! Evil You is ready to be unleased.

Din has been finishing up fixing some wiring in the hull and he is finally letting himself relax a smidgen. He’d see the bunch of fabric you’d taken with you to the fresher and he realized it had to be the modest nightgown. Finally, it seems like you’ve come to your senses. Nonetheless, he’d had to tamp down the part of him that was disappointed. This is for the best. He hears the fresher door open and before he can lift his head, he can smell that intoxicating fragrance again. It will be ok, he can get past that, he’ll just say good night and go to bed, that’s all, but then he turns and sees you. The tools in his hands clatter to the ground.

“Fuuuck” Mando swears like he’s in slow motion, drawing out the word in his surprise.

“Hi, Mando,” you say simply, but flirtatiously.

“Hi?!?” He sounds incredulous, “Is that all you- you just stand there, like that and just hi?”

“What do you want me to say?” You tip your head, coquettishly blinking up at him.

Mando makes a choking sound and then grits out, “I don’t know, maybe an explanation for how you’ve lost your mind, or at least your clothes.”

“You told me to buy something new for bed. This is definitely meant to be in a bed.” You gesture towards your lace-covered figure. “Plus, I do remember you using the word skimpy quite a bit during that conversation.”

“I meant for you to buy something that wasn’t-- hell, this isn’t even skimpy; it’s practically non-existent.” He sounds like he is in pain. “Maker, woman, how much self-control do you think I have?!?”

“That’s what I’ve been trying to find out,” you retort with a little smirk. Apparently, you’ve reached the end of it with that statement, because suddenly he is advancing toward you pinning you up against the bulkhead with his hips pressed hard into you and his hands on either side of your head. You can feel the hot, hard length of him against your hip and you let out a little groan.

“Have you been taunting me all this time?” His voice has a dangerous edge to it that sends a delicious shiver down your spine.

“I wouldn’t say taunting, more like enticing you.” You drag one of your legs up the length of his until you can hook it around his hip and pull him in closer to you.

Din can’t believe you’ve been doing this deliberately the whole time. He also can’t believe he ever bought your whole innocent act. It’s clear you planned this out to get back at him for being an asshole about your nightgown in the first place. To be honest though the thought of you shopping for lingerie for him, has him so turned on he doesn’t really care. But that doesn’t mean he’s not going to have to pay you back a little for torturing him these last few days.

“Enticing me?” Mando repeats with a small snort, “You sure you want to do that?” His body doesn’t really wait for your answer though as his hand comes down to grip your raised thigh tightly and urge it higher while he grinds his hips into you.

“Yes,” you pant out, “yes, I want to do that.” His movements are making you hotter than ever as you can feel his cock rubbing against your core. Mando brings his hand back up so he can grope your breast, kneading it roughly before rolling the sensitive peak of your nipple between his fingers and then moves to give its twin the same attention. He leans in closer to you so he can speak right into your ear.

“Do you like this? Letting me rut up against you, touching you, squeezing your tits. Getting you all worked up.” He rolls his hips up to rub his cock right across your clit. You let your head fall back against the wall and you gasp out in pleasure. “Or were you already turned on from teasing me?”

“I like it,” you breathe out.

“And the teasing?” He pinches your nipple hard making you cry out. He’s turning you into a mess, but his voice sounds controlled.

“Wasn’t-- wasn’t trying to tease,” you try to sound convincing but it’s hard when he’s distracting you so well.

“I don’t know, I think you were,” Mando sounds smug now, “I think you were enjoying it. Maybe I’ll enjoy teasing you.” And then suddenly he pulls away from you completely, dropping your leg with a small thump.

“What? No, no don’t stop.” You can’t help the whine in your voice.

“Why? Too hot and bothered? Not so fun, is it?” He tips his helmet at you and it feels like he must be smirking under there. You’re a second away from just begging him shamelessly, but that head tilt does something to you; a spark of competitiveness flares within you. Evil You started this game and she’s not ready to back down now.

You roll your shoulders back, take a deep breath, and look at him, “Are you saying you’re not worked up?” You let your eyes flick down to the absolute tent in his trousers and then back up to his visor.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of myself. Hell, what do you think I’ve been doing up until now?” Mando runs a hand across his crotch, palming himself, as if to prove his point and maybe hoping to shock you.

“Oh, I’ve heard.” He flinches at that, seems like you caught him off guard. You push ahead, “But what an excellent idea.” You flounce past him and climb onto your bed. You lie back into your pillows and then bring your hands up to caress yourself, your fingers trailing down over your throat and chest in a seductive fashion. Your hands cup your lace-covered breasts, slowly running your palms over them and pushing them together before letting your fingertips brush over your nipples. You look straight into Mando’s visor the entire time.

“Wait, what’re you doing?” It’s as if he’s on a two-minute delay and Din’s mouth has only now caught up to the scene unfolding in front of him. This isn’t what he wanted; he wants to be the one to pleasure you.

“Well, since you don’t seem interested, I guess I’ll just have to take care of myself, like you suggested.” You let your hand drift down your body and into your panties and you let out a suggestive moan. You exaggerate your movements, performing for him.

“I am, I’m interested,” Mando insists.

“Tell me what you want.” You’re not letting him off the hook yet.

“I want to touch you like that, I want to be the one making you moan, making you wet.” Oh, he’s good.

“Ooh, Mando, you’ve got me so wet already.” You let your fingers glide through your folds.

“Let me see.” His voice sounds gruff.

You pause, considering him for a moment, “Why don’t you come feel for yourself?”

With that, Din is pulling his gloves off and striding to bed. He settles himself between your thighs, and reaches for your panties, yanking the little scrap of lace down your legs. He pushes your hand away and then just stares at you, open and glistening for him. Finally.

“You’re so gorgeous,” he tells you, “every part of you. And I’m going to touch it all.”  

His hands come to rest on your knees and he tugs your legs open wider before gently squeezing his way up your thighs.

“And how do you always smell so good?” Mando asks.

“I bought scented lotion too.”

“No, it’s more than that,” he says suggestively. You can’t respond though because Mando’s hands have finally reached their destination and the leisurely way he is just dragging his fingers against you has robbed you of all your breath. He’s gentle at first, exploring softly and driving you absolutely crazy.

“Mmm, you are wet, sweetheart,” Mando drawls out, pleased. He adds more pressure and starts to draw lazy circles around your clit making you moan his nickname. “And so responsive to me too.”

“Mando, please,” You can’t help the plea falling from your lips when he’s being so maddeningly slow.

“I like the sound of that.” The smugness is back in his voice. “Please, what?”

“More, please, touch me more” you manage to breathe out, and thank the Maker he complies. He rotates his hand so that his thumb is now on your clit and he increases the pace of those fantastic circles while letting his thick middle finger push inside your pussy. Meanwhile his other hand has been making its way up your body, caressing you through the lace, until he reaches your tits again. This time, however, he’s pushing the lace aside so he can tweak and tease your nipples directly.

“Man- Mando, feels so fucking good, wanted you to touch me like this for so long,” you say between moans.

“Could’ve just asked me, ‘stead of parading around in these flimsy little things,” he chuckles.

“You like these flimsy things though, I could tell,” you respond.

“Yeah, I do,” he admits, “Let me show you how much.” He increases his thrusts into you adding a second finger and then bending both upwards to sweep across pure bliss inside you. You feel like you’ve been on the brink of an orgasm for hours even though he’s only been touching you like this for a few minutes. You feel the waves of pleasure building up and your moans turn into cries of his name until finally the waves crest and feel yourself cumming all over his hand.

“Yes, that’s it, sweetheart,” Mando encourages you, “look so beautiful when you cum. Wanna see it again.” He doesn’t stop his momentum even slightly.

Din is enjoying watching you fall apart completely on his fingers; you’re so hot and soft around him. He knows you will feel unbelievably good on his cock, but he wants to draw out your pleasure as much as he can right now. He feels high on the control of being the one to make you feel like this.

“Mando,” you breathe out, “I- I don’t know-- if I- I can a-again.”

“You can, you can give me another one. You’re gonna give me another one, you little tease.” His voice is firm, but it’s so sexy when he’s demanding that you cum for him. “Besides, this cunt is so tight, need to stretch you out, get you ready to take my cock.”

Hearing him say such utter filth to you is such an incredible turn on that he’s right, you can give him another orgasm and you do. The second one hits you even harder making you clench tight around his fingers, gushing wetness all over as you collapse boneless on the bed.

“That’s it, good, that’s my girl.”  

He finally slows his hand and pulls himself away from your dripping center. You watch as his fingers disappear under his helmet and knowing that he’s tasting you on them makes your already spent cunt clench again. He moves off the bed so that he can remove his armor and finally take off his clothes. You watch him, fascinated as more and more of him is revealed to you, until finally he’s standing in front of you naked except for the helmet.

“Oh, Mando, you are incredible; an absolutely gorgeous tank of a man,” you tell him, letting your eyes rake over his broad, muscular form.  You see his cock twitch at your words and he seems to widen his stance as you watch him, making himself look even broader. You admire him further, “I love how strong you are, and how big.” As you say the last word, you let your eyes drop to his erection.

“Yeah?” Din asks. He loves that you are so turned on by his body, and your praise is making him blush so much he wonders if you can see it in his neck and chest. You haven’t even touched him yet and he’s aching for you.

“Mmm, yes.” You say appreciatively as you slide off the bed and take his hand, pulling him back to you with a wide smile. You maneuver him to the bed pushing lightly at his shoulders until he takes the hint and lies back. You slip the negligee over your head tossing it to the floor so that you’re naked too. He reaches out one of his large hands and tugs you down with him until you land on top of his body in a tangle of limbs. You push up gently so that you can straddle his narrow hips with your knees bringing yourself up over him to give your hands access to his beautiful golden skin. You let your palms run over his torso and chest, up across his shoulders, lowering yourself down on him as you go so that you can place kisses on his neck, collarbone, and chest. He tries to pull your hips down but you resist so you can take your time exploring him first.

As you make your way down his body, your kisses become more passionate, opening up to let your hot tongue run over his skin. He moans out at the sensation, encouraging you to do it more so you can hear him again. You kiss his nipples, letting your tongue flick each one into a hard nub and making him arch up against you. You continue trailing your lips down his torso, and when you dip your tongue into his navel, he cries out your name and you smile into his skin. Finally, you settle yourself between his legs, looking up at him as you take the head of his cock into your mouth. The sound he makes is somewhere between a groan and a whimper, making you feel a rush of power at being the reason for that sound. You swirl your tongue around the head adding a deliberate flick to the sensitive spot just underneath. You pull off him with a teasing suck before dropping your head back down to allow you to lick up and down his shaft getting him as wet as possible. Mando is practically writhing beneath you trying to get you to take him back into your mouth. You run your hands along the inside of his thighs, shushing him gently, before wrapping your hands underneath him to cup his buttocks. You bring your mouth back up to the head of his cock and then glide down taking him in as deep as possible. You keep your tongue flat and wide to aid you as you go, and give a little hum to help open your throat. You bob your head back up before doing it again and again, each time getting him a little deeper, until you are able to take all of him.

Din has never felt anything so incredible in his life. He’s enjoyed blowjobs before but they were never anything like this. How are you able to swallow him like that? Where did you learn to do this? The way you’re sucking him feels like pure heaven. And the way your tongue is just gliding along the underside of him on your downward stroke, ugh, he feels like he’s fighting off his orgasm the entire time.

“Fuck! So good! How? Shit!” Mando sounds like a complete wreck above you letting out a string of curses and garbled sounds as you continue your oral worship of him. You look up to see his helmet thrashing about in the pillows and his fists practically ripping the blanket underneath him as he’s pulling at it so tightly. It’s too much for him and he begs you to stop, almost shoving you off him.

“St- stop, please, stop, n- not yet.” You release him and he takes in a shaky breath, calming himself. You climb out from between his legs to lay next to him for a moment as he comes back down from the precipice of his peak.

“You are just full of surprises, aren’t you?” Mando says between breaths.

“I’d like to be full of something else,” you quip back at him.

“Oh I bet you would.” And lightning fast Mando is somehow towering over you on his knees, prying your legs apart so he can wedge himself between them. As soon as you realize what he’s up to you’re more than happy to help, bringing your legs up to hook around his hips. He rocks against you letting his cock rub up through your wetness. You’re still sensitive from your earlier orgasms and you’re even more turned on after going down on him.

“Do you want this?” Mando asks, teasing your clit with the head of his cock.

“Yes, Mando, please.” You lift your hips up in a vain attempt to get him where you need him most.

“Tell me again.” It’s a command but his tone is soft, sultry.

“Yes, I want you, Mando. I need you.” You look up at him, hoping that your expression can covey all that you feel for him, everything you’re not quite able to tell him yet.

“I need you too, sweetheart.” He says as he gradually starts to push into you, the blunt head of his cock spearing you open. He is only in about halfway when he pauses, letting you adjust to his size before he pulls out almost completely. He repeats with slow, shallow thrusts only giving you a fraction more of him each time.

“Your cunt is so amazingly tight,” Mando moans out, “feels so perfect.”

“I need more, Mando, please.” You try to keep from whining but he’s making you desperate for him. His movements are so languid and unhurried. It’s both fantastic and frustrating at the same time.

“Patience, my little tease, I know what you need.” Mando stretches down over you as he thrusts forward, gripping your hands to place them on either side of your head as he interlocks his fingers with yours. He’s still moving slowly, but this time he keeps going until he is fully sheathed with your tight passage. There is a slight burn as he stretches you open more than any of your previous lovers could, but the feeling of utter fullness is so wonderful any pain is quickly gone. Mando holds himself there for an instant before bringing his helmet down to meet your forehead in the only kind of kiss he can give you now. It’s a lovely moment, but after a bit you can’t stop yourself from grinding against him in a silent plea to make him move.

Mando chuckles at your attempt to move him, and then asks, “Are you ready, sweetheart?”

You barely get out a cry of “Yes!” before he pulls back and then drives himself up into you with such force it punches all the air out of your lungs. Gone are the leisurely teases from before. Instead, now he is moving at an inconceivable pace, fucking into you with abandon. Maker, he’s fast, and the way that he moves his hips is causing him to hit that magic place inside you each time. It’s all you can do to roll your hips up to meet his in counterpoint to his plunging thrusts. A constant string of moans is forced from your lungs along with occasional cries of his name.

“Oh fuck, you’re so good, taking my cock so well, like you were made for it.” You love hearing Mando’s filthy praise, his rich baritone voice encouraging you and making you gush around him with every word. And apparently he can feel that extra wetness, as he tells you, “You like it when I talk dirty to you, don’t you?”

“Maker, yes, Mando,” you respond breathlessly, hoping he’ll keep it up.

“D’you know how much I imagined fucking you? Taken you all over the ship in my mind. Gonna make it real. Gonna show you how badly I’ve wanted you.” The promise of acting out Mando’s fantasies pushes you even closer to the point of no return. The pleasure that has been mounting in you begins to burn white hot inside you. You wrap your legs around Mando’s waist lifting your hips up more, changing the angle just enough to let him penetrate you even deeper than before. You feel your thighs begin to quake, your internal muscles clenching down on him as your climax overtakes you in sparks of blinding ecstasy.

“That’s it sweetheart, cum on my cock, yes.” Mando keeps fucking you right through your orgasm, ramping up his speed even faster than before helping you prolong your high. It’s so good that you can feel another one building right behind it, crashing into you before you even realize that it’s happening. The pleasure is so strong your entire body is spasming with the force of your release and Mando sounds completely wrecked above you. His thrusts are getting erratic and you know he’s getting close.

You are clamped around him like a searing velvet vice, and Din is sure he has never felt anything better in his entire life. Each time you cum for him, you get wetter and the sounds of him pistoning in and out of you echo obscenely in the hull. He wishes this could last longer, but it feels too wonderful, and he can feel his balls tightening. He just wants to stay inside you as long as he possibly can. He begs you, “Please let me cum in you, please. Gonna cum, p- please wanna b- be in you.”

“It’s safe, Mando, you can cum in me,” you tell him, “I want you to cum in me, wanna feel you fill me up.”

That is exactly what Din needs to hear and he lets out a loud groan. He brings one of his strong arms around your lower back to hold you closer to him as he drives into you even harder. His entire body tenses and he cries out your name like it’s being ripped from his throat as his cock begins to pulse inside you and ropes of his cum explode out of him, covering your walls.

Mando tries to lower himself back down to you gently, but ends up collapsing a little on top of you as his strength finally gives out after the force of his orgasm. You don’t mind at all though and you wrap your arms around his back holding him close, enjoying the feel of him still inside you. He is content to stay like that for a few moments too, until he’s murmuring something about crushing you and is rolling onto his back, pulling you with him until you are curled up against his side. You cuddle with him for a bit before he gets up to get you a wet cloth from the fresher to help you clean up before you fall asleep.

When Mando gets back to you, he asks, “So, how many of those skimpy things did you buy?”

You smile up at him, “Oh there are several more,” you assure him, “Couldn’t think of anything better to spend my credits on.”

“Yeah? Good. That means I can get rid of this.” He holds up the modest nightgown you had left behind in the fresher.

You let out a laugh before asking him, “I thought you were worried about me being cold?”

“If you keep wearing those skimpy little things around me, you don’t have to worry about being cold. I’ll be in your bed every night keeping you warm.” His voice is rich with promise.

“Good. You can start now.”

---------------------------------------------

Thank you for reading! I hope you enjoyed it!

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