#how could you not feel bad when travelling the world leaving YOUR little one behind like/??

[twstwonderlandstuff]

im doing twst halloween event rn and LILIA???

he left silver to travel the world EXCUSE ME WHY AREN'T YOU TAKING HIM WITH YOU???

WHAT KINDA MAN LEAVES A CHILD TO WONDER BEYOND GONDER IN THEIR HOUSE ALONE??!?!?

listen, I love lilia, I do, but what kind of unhinged behavior is this?! maybe its because lilia's an old fae so he doesn't have much sense in what's normal or not, but like there's Sebek?! lilia could've left him with SEBEK?!?!? like what normal people would do if the parents are out on a work trip or something and they have to leave their kids, so they ask a neighbor/close friend / relative to watch over them

NOT LEAVE THEM TO FEND BEARS ON THEIR OWN

[judebellswife]

A WORLD AWAY — Jude Bellingham

— pairing • dad!jude bellingham x mom!reader

— requested by anon (18 jan 2023)

— summary • Exhausted from the daily demands of taking care of their children, you feels overwhelmed and drained. Jude notices your fatigue and takes matters into his own hands, whisking you away on a surprise vacation to the other side of the world. In the serenity of a private paradise, you and Jude reconnect as a couple, far from the responsibilities of parenthood, finding comfort in each other’s company and rekindling their romance.

— warnings • Fluff, explicit sexual content (vanilla), mentions of exhaustion, emotional intimacy.

— charlotte’s note: i’m kinda bad at writing smut or like write about have sex in general 🙇🏻‍♀️

Life had become a whirlwind of responsibilities. You hadn’t had a full night’s sleep in months, between managing the house, chasing after your two children, and trying to carve out a moment of peace for yourself. Every morning, you felt like you were running on fumes, moving from one task to the next, just trying to keep everything afloat. Jude had been supportive, as always, but even with his help, the weight of motherhood was starting to overwhelm you.

You loved your children with all your heart, but it felt like you’d lost a part of yourself in the process. The exhaustion was more than just physical; it was emotional. Every day, you gave and gave, until there was nothing left for yourself. The spark in your eyes had dimmed, and Jude noticed.

One night, after the kids were finally asleep, you collapsed on the couch, staring blankly at the TV screen. Jude sat beside you, gently rubbing your back as you rested your head on his shoulder. You didn’t say much. You didn’t need to. He could feel how tired you were, how much you were struggling, even if you didn’t complain.

“Love,” he murmured, his voice soft and full of concern. “You’re completely drained. I can see it, and I hate seeing you like this. You’re always giving so much. Let me take care of you.”

You sighed, closing your eyes for a moment. “I’m just… tired, Jude. The kids, the house, everything. It’s like I haven’t had a second to just breathe.”

Jude pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple. “I’ve got an idea. Let me spoil you for a bit, yeah?”

You looked up at him, confused but intrigued. “What do you mean?”

A mischievous smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “Pack a bag. Just the two of us. I’m taking you away.”

“Jude, we can’t. What about the kids?”

“My mum’s already agreed to take care of them for a few days. You need this, and so do I.” He gave you a reassuring grin. “Trust me. You deserve a break, love.”

Before you knew it, you were on a plane, flying halfway across the world to an unknown destination. Jude had kept everything a secret, and despite your initial reservations, excitement started to bubble inside you. The idea of leaving behind the chaos of everyday life — even just for a short while — was exhilarating.

After hours of travel, you finally arrived at your destination. When you stepped out of the plane, the warm ocean breeze hit your face, and you gasped. You were on a private island, the kind you’d only ever seen in travel magazines. The beach stretched out before you, with powdery white sand and crystal-clear waters that shimmered under the sun. A luxurious villa was nestled just a short walk from the shore, secluded and surrounded by lush greenery.

“Jude,” you breathed, unable to believe your eyes. “This… this is amazing.”

He smiled, wrapping an arm around your waist as he guided you towards the villa. “I wanted to take you somewhere where we could just be us. No kids, no stress. Just you and me.”

The villa was even more stunning inside, with its open-plan design, floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the ocean, and a spacious balcony where you could watch the sunset. Everything felt perfect, like a dream.

For the first time in a long time, you felt like you could breathe. There were no little feet running around, no toys to pick up, no diapers to change. It was just you and Jude, with nothing but time.

The days passed slowly, in the best possible way. You and Jude fell into a rhythm that was all about relaxation. Mornings were spent walking along the beach, the gentle waves lapping at your feet as Jude held your hand, laughing and stealing kisses like you were a pair of teenagers in love. Afternoons were for lounging by the pool, with the sun warming your skin and Jude’s voice softly teasing you as he splashed water playfully. You’d laugh, feeling lighter than you had in months.

But it was the nights that felt the most intimate. After quiet dinners under the stars, you’d retreat to your villa, where the sound of the ocean lulled you into a sense of calm. It was in those moments that you and Jude reconnected, finding each other in the quiet spaces where your lives had been too loud before.

One particular evening, after a long day of exploring the island, you stood on the balcony of your villa, gazing out at the moonlit ocean. The air was warm, and the gentle breeze made the palm trees sway. Jude joined you, his arms wrapping around your waist from behind as he pulled you close, pressing his lips to the side of your neck.

“You look beautiful,” he murmured, his breath warm against your skin. “I’ve missed seeing you like this.”

You closed your eyes, leaning back against him, feeling the tension in your body melt away. “I feel like I can finally relax,” you whispered. “Thank you, Jude. I didn’t realize how much I needed this.”

He turned you around to face him, his hands resting on your hips as his eyes searched yours. “You’ve been incredible with the kids, with everything. But I want to take care of you too. You deserve that.”

You smiled softly, reaching up to cup his cheek. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

His eyes darkened with a mixture of love and desire as he leaned in, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss. It was the kind of kiss that reminded you of how deeply connected the two of you were, even after all the years and everything you’d been through. Slowly, his hands began to explore your body, his touch sending shivers down your spine.

Jude pulled you inside, his kisses growing more passionate as he guided you toward the bed. The air between you was thick with desire, but there was no rush. This was about the two of you, taking your time to rediscover each other.

You could feel the soft fabric of your dress falling away as Jude’s hands roamed over your skin. His touch was familiar, yet electric, igniting a fire inside you that you hadn’t felt in what seemed like forever. He looked at you like you were the most beautiful thing in the world, his gaze full of adoration and love.

As he lowered you onto the bed, his lips never leaving yours, your body responded to his touch with an intensity that surprised you. Each caress, each kiss, was slow and deliberate, as if he wanted to savor every moment with you. The way his hands moved over your body made you feel cherished, desired, and more connected to him than ever before.

When he finally joined you, his weight was a comforting presence above you, grounding you in the moment. The intimacy between you was sweet and slow, a reaffirmation of the love you shared. Every touch, every movement was filled with tenderness, a silent conversation between two people who had been through so much together and come out stronger on the other side.

Afterwards, as you lay in his arms, your head resting on his chest, you felt a deep sense of peace wash over you. The sound of his heartbeat, steady and reassuring, lulled you into a state of complete contentment. For the first time in months, you felt truly relaxed, as if all the weight you’d been carrying had been lifted.

“Thank you,” you whispered into the quiet, your voice soft but filled with emotion.

Jude kissed the top of your head, his arm tightening around you protectively. “For what, love?”

“For bringing me here. For taking care of me. For everything.”

He smiled, brushing a strand of hair away from your face. “You take care of everyone else. It’s my turn to take care of you. I’ll always be here for you. Always.”

In that moment, wrapped in his embrace and the tranquility of your surroundings, you felt completely at peace. The exhaustion that had once seemed insurmountable was gone, replaced by a deep sense of love and connection. You knew that no matter what challenges lay ahead, you and Jude would face them together.

And as you drifted off to sleep, listening to the soothing sound of the waves and the steady beat of Jude’s heart, you knew that you were right where you were meant to be — loved, cherished, and never alone.

[familyvideostevie]

steel drum weight of me

joel miller x fem!reader, 18+ mdni

summary: joel comes back from his wall shift with hands in need of some serious tlc. but why stop there? | 3.2k

warnings: fem!reader, fluff turned to smut, a tender blowjob, p in v sex, unprotected sex, riding, creampie

a/n: this could be in the same universe as come care about me and watching you with wonder but who knows. what matters is it's a post-part i jackson au and all is well. this is my first fic in a while and i hammered it out today so hopefully it's coherent. <3 series masterlist here.

__

Jackson looks its best in the winter.

You've always thought so with its endless skies gone white, blending in with the grey clouds carrying the constant threat of snow. The peaks you never tire of, such ethereal beauty in a world otherwise gone to shit, looming over town with a steadfastness that you can fool yourself into thinking means protection, means safety. In reality, they're just something nice to look at when you have a free moment.

It's also fucking cold.

But you can deal with that. You've spent more winters in the last twenty years than you'd like to remember mostly outside, freezing your ass off, fingers so numb you could barely pull the trigger. But when it counted, you did.

Winter now means a town full of children laughing and having snowball fights. It means big pots of stew and your pick of hats, scarves, and a good pair of boots. It means a warm house to go back to every night, a bed to crawl into, and a man you love to hold you.

Things could be worse.

You're home first today. Joel and Ellie are on the wall and have been since mid-morning. The light is already going, the sun dipping behind the Tetons, sky that winter mix of purple and pink that makes the breath catch in your throat no matter how many times you see it. There's a flu going around and taking people out for a few days at most but it means fewer bodies free for the wall and for patrol. You're pulling a double tomorrow and you're already looking forward to the hot bath you'll take after.

Today, though, you change from your work clothes to something softer, a sweater that travels between your drawer and Joel's, thick socks Dina gave you for your birthday last year. It's hard to heat houses like yours the way you used to but it works well enough to fight the chill so long as you layer. That's the name of the game these days: adapting.

You set the kettle to boil and forgo thinking about dinner for a few hours. Joel won't drink tea with you but if Ellie stops by she'll have some. Maybe you can convince her to watch the movie you pulled from the library this week. You love him, but Joel just doesn't appreciate comedies.

The front door creaks, the bell you have hanging from the doorknob jingling.

"S'me," Joel calls into the house. "You home?"

"Making tea." The kettle isn't steaming yet so you lean against the counter and wait.

The sounds of his return are familiar even though you can't see him. He locks the door with a click, shrugs his jacket off with a sigh. He sits down on the bench you put in the entryway so he can take his boots off. The thunk of one and then the other. He'll tuck them next to yours under the coat rack. When the weather is bad you try to come in the back door so not as to track snow through the house but you don't want his back to get any worse so a bench in front makes sense.

The kettle screams. You pull it off quick and pour the water into your mug -- a chipped green one with a dinosaur holding a cookie that you find endlessly amusing -- and leave it to steep. The floor creaks under your socked feet as you make your way into the hall. Joel still sits on the bench digging into the meat of one palm with his thumb like he's working the feeling back into them.

He looks up and his jaw softens a little. His cheeks are rosy from the cold and his hair a mess from the wind. "Evenin," he says.

"How was the wall?"

"Fine." He stops messing with his hands and rolls his shoulders back with a grunt. "Ellie swears she saw a moose on her last patrol. Said to tell you. I think she's fuckin' with me. How was your shift?"

"Fine," you echo. "Is she coming for dinner?"

He shakes his head. "Game night at Jesse's."

You cross the remaining distance between you and he parts his legs automatically so you can stand between his knees. You run a hand through his hair, pushing the greying fringe back from his eyes. He looks up at you and finally smiles, just a little. You drag your hand down the side of his face and enjoy the feel of his beard on your skin.

"Maybe she did see a moose." He rolls his eyes and brings a hand up to cover yours. You lean down to kiss him but something catches your eye and you pull back, tugging your hand from beneath his to circle his wrist.

"Jesus, Joel." He makes a surprised sound.

"Hey now, what --"

You pull his other hand from his knee and hold them both close to your face, turning them over in the light of the entryway. "You didn't wear gloves, did you?"

He just shrugs. That means someone else on the wall -- probably Ellie -- forgot theirs and he handed his own over.

The skin of his knuckles is dry and cracked, the rest of his palm dry and cold to the touch. You've seen them bloody, broken and bruised, and compared to that, this is tame. Welcome, almost. But you know he won't do a damn thing about it, let himself bleed rather than take a second to make things better.

And you've never minded this part. Taking care of him, making him slow down and rest for even just a little bit. You both know you'd get your hands dirty or worse for him and he for you, but this is the part he has trouble with. So you take the reigns.

It's part of how you fit together -- part of how you look after each other.

"We've got something for this." Joel looks unamused. You press a light kiss to one of his knuckles and his nostrils flare. "Go sit on the couch," you say.

"I'm fine --"

"Joel, they'll bleed if you don't let me --"

"I said I'm --"

"Hey," you say. He hears the finality of your tone and lets you have it, sighing your name in one long breath.

"Alright," he says. "Move, then."

You press a quick kiss to his lips and release his hands to step back. He stands with his usual grunt and you have to stop yourself from leaning into the width of him, from wrapping your arms around him and slotting your nose in his neck and never letting go.

"It's that salve Dina brought over last week," you tell him. "The new one for the winter. Smells nice. Good for this kind of stuff."

Joel makes his way to the couch and you fetch the tin from the kitchen.

"What's it made of?"

"Uh -- oil? And some flowers, I think? Wax, maybe."

He's settled into the cushions when you return, smirking. "It's okay to say you don't fuckin' know."

You sit next to him and unscrew the top, folding your legs so you're facing him. "Well then, I don't fuckin' know." You're sure to imitate his drawl.

"Cute."

"Gimme those hands, big guy."

The salve smells faintly of lavender and it's cold on your fingertips. Joel extends his right hand and you work it into his skin slowly, extra careful around where it's cracked and split. You feel his eyes on you but you let him look.

"Feels good, huh?" He hums. "If you'd wear your gloves then --"

"What was I gonna do, let her freeze?" So it was Ellie, then. You flick your gaze up and find his brow furrowed. If you have a free hand you'd smooth the crease with your thumb.

"No," you say. "Guess it's a damn good thing you have me here, then."

He chuckles, a throaty, rusty sound. "Guess so."

You finish the first hand and motion for his second. He gives it to you and you dig your thumbs into the meat of his palm. Joel lets you touch him whenever you like, for the most part. Pressing into his side when you walk down the street in town, trailing your lips down his neck until he whines just a little in your bedroom. You've worked knots out of his shoulders and cleaned blood from surface wounds. You can never get enough of him, of his warmth, the expanse of his tanned skin all yours for the taking.

And, boy, he touches you back.

So you take your time. You rub the salve between his fingers, over the ridges of knuckles split so many times you don't even know about. His hands are rough even when they're not dry and cracking, callused from years of hard work. From years of violence and playing guitar, shooting a gun and holding the people he loves. Dotted with scars and nicks, hands that have touched every part of you.

Joel's slightly slimy finger taps your chin. "You okay?" You've been stroking the same bit of his hand for who knows how long.

"Yeah," you say and mean it. You rub your own hands together to soak in some of the salve before putting the lid back on the tin and standing. "Need to let it soak in."

"Feels soaked in already," he grumbles.

"Stay there." He purses his lips. "I mean it, Joel."

"Bossy today," he says. "There's wood that needs choppin'." You ignore him since he's just being annoying. The salve goes back in the kitchen and his voice trails after you. "And I told Tommy I'd --"

You turn on the tap. "You gotta let that soak in," you say again from the sink.

"What? Can't hear over the water."

You turn off the tap and dry your hands. Joel is still on the couch when you return. "Sorry," you say. You run your hand through his hair again and settle back down next to him. "I said be patient."

"Don't think that's what you said."

"It's what I meant."

And he looks at you in that way that always makes your face feel hot. Like he's seeing right to the bone of you, like he's laying you bare on the floor in his mind. Like he never wants to stop looking at you, next to him on the couch, leg pressed to yours. Like he loves you.

"Alright," he says.

You get an idea, the flames licking at your belly and your hands itching to touch him again, to touch him differently than before. That idea has you grabbing a pillow and tossing it to the floor, has you getting up and drawing the curtains before you sink to your knees before him.

Joel only looks mildly surprised, eyebrows raised, mouth tugging up at the corner. "Now, I ain't gonna complain but --"

"Then don't," you say. You tug his shirt from his waistband and start working on his belt. "Gotta pass the time somehow. And I don't know what we're doing for dinner yet, so maybe I'm just stalling."

"Hell of a way to stall." He reaches for you to touch your face, maybe, or help you with his belt, when you click your tongue. "We can just go to the community hall--"

"Don't touch," you remind him. "You have to let it--"

"Soak, Jesus, yeah, yeah." Joel tips his head back along the sofa and takes one deep breath. If he really wanted to he could ignore you and you'd let him get away with it, but if there's one thing you and Joel have solidified, it's trust. He trusts you to take care of him, to handle him with hands that love him.

So you do. He lifts his hips just a little so you can tug his jeans down, zipper undone and button popped. You pull out his cock, already half-hard at the promise of what's to come. You spit into your palm and stroke him once root to tip and he hisses. More blood flows and he stiffens in your hand.

"You just gonna look at it?"

You give him a squeeze for being a shit. He laughs but it sounds punched out, on the edge. Frankly it's an effort not to take him in your mouth right away. You've always loved this -- the exchange of power, the trust. You're the one on your knees but you're calling the shots. And he's mouthwatering. The way his cock curves a little, the vein that runs along the underside. The mushroom head a little pinker than the rest, the wiry hair at his base. The hefty weight of his balls in your hand, on your tongue. You know how to make it good for him and it's good for you, too.

Joel opens his mouth to no doubt say something else annoying so you finally drag your tongue along the vein, swirling a little at the top before taking just the tip of him in your mouth. His precome is salty. You work your hand along the rest of him as you start to suck in earnest, hollowing your cheeks and taking a little more each time.

"Look so pretty, baby," Joel says. His voice is gravely, broken in his throat. You manage to take almost all of him and you swallow, just once. Your reward is your name spilling from his mouth in a groan.

It's messy. Spit beads at the corner of your mouth and drips a little as you work him, breathing through your nose when you take him all the way. So good, takin' all of me, keep goin'.

Joel has clearly forgotten your directive as he winds one hand in your hair and pulls just a little, just enough to make you moan around him. You don't scold him for it, instead keeping your eyes on his face. His head is tipped back just a little, lips parted at he gazes down at you. His other arm is stretched along the length of the couch, his fingers digging into the fabric as you bob on his cock.

You know he's close. You can feel how he's trying hard to keep his hips down, trying not to fuck your throat cause usually he asks first. So it's only a little surprising when he pulls you off him, eyes a little glazed and some color high on his cheeks.

He wipes spit from the corner of your mouth with the pad of his thumb. "Why don't you c'mere?" he says. "Let me fill you up."

"Joel." This was supposed to be about making him feel good. You know even if he comes in your mouth he'll ask you let him touch you, so frankly you don't mind if he fucks you or not.

He smirks, presses his fingers into the side of your neck a little. You swallow so he can feel it. "We both know you can take it," he drawls, eyes dark. "Always gets you goin', my cock in your mouth."

You can feel the heat between your legs, the arousal pooling in your gut. He's right but he's also an asshole. "You're annoying," you tell him.

"So is that a no?"

You drag the flat of your tongue up his shaft one last time as punishment before standing, using his knees as leverage to get off your own. He shucks off his jeans the rest of the way as you drag down your pants, letting them pool with your underwear at your feet before stepping out. Joel holds out a hand for you to balance on and you take it, putting your other on his shoulder.

"Feels softer already," you mutter. Joel snickers and you straddle him. He uses one hand to drag his fingers through your cunt and you fail to swallow a gasp.

"Well, look at that," he says. "I was right." He pushes two fingers into you and they go easily, your hips jerking as he pumps them in and out once, twice, and then you're empty again.

"Smug bastard," you manage. He brings his hand to his mouth and takes a long lick before surging forward to kiss you. You can taste yourself on his tongue and it makes you even wetter.

Joel licks into your mouth and you kiss him back sloppily, desperately, in the way you know he likes. You're so busy with that hands on his face, his beard scratching your skin deliciously, that you don't notice what else he's doing. His hand presses into the bare skin of your back under your shirt and you lift up a little on instinct and then --

The head of his cock nudges at your entrance and his hand presses again and you meet the movement of his hips with your own and he fills you with just one stroke.

You moan in unison, Joel's arm wrapping around your back as you curl yours around his neck, mouths not so much pressed together as hovering as you pant, as you adjust. Even with how wet you are Joel is a stretch, a welcome one, but a stretch regardless. You shift your hips, roll them back and forth a little.

"Go on, then," you tell him. "Fuck me."

He laughs.

His lips leave yours and trail down your chin, sucking spots onto your neck and on that spot that makes you keen as he does what you ask. He goes slow at first, letting you meet him thrust for thrust. One hand snakes up your shirt, thumbs at your nipple when he finds no bra in the way. You wing your fingers in his hair and tug, tug until he picks up the pace, until all you can hear is the smack of his flesh against yours.

"Joel -- Joel -- right there --"

"M'not gonna -- I -- fuck --"

"Said you were gonna fill me up, didn't you?" you pant, managing to find a bit of cheek in the haze of your fucking. "C'mon, Miller. Don't keep a lady wait--"

His hips pick up the pace, his hands pressing into you hard enough to bruise. You give up trying to tease him and hang on for dear life, managing to snake a hand between your legs to rub at your clit as he pounds into you. The only thing you can say is his name over and over as you feel the hook pull taught, feel the head of his cock brush against and then pound that spot that makes your vision blur.

Joel comes just before you do, his thrusts stuttering and his name on your lips. You feel it, the heat inside you and it's enough to send you over the edge, your cunt squeezing him as he empties inside you.

You press your forehead to his and catch your breath. He palms your neck, your jaw, slides his thumb lazily under your eye and kisses the corner of your mouth.

"Hell of a salve," he manages.

You slot your lips over his. "Wear your damn gloves." Joel laughs and it shifts him inside you. Even softening it makes you both hiss a little. "Just gimme a second."

His hand drags up and down your back, pressing into your spine. "Take your time," he says. "M'clearly not goin' anywhere."

"You never stop, do you?"

Joel kisses you again. "'fraid not."

You laugh into his neck. "Good."

thank you for reading <3 reblog, send feedback, general masterlist here!

[evilminji]

I think I figured it out?

My favorite thing to do with Danny? And the Zone in General?

Is to just... zoom out a bit, maybe move stage left, leave the trouble and (most of the) dramatics of his teen years behind and just? Discover that not all of Death is War. Not every Obsession is violence.

Sometimes it's owning a fancy little soaps shop. Or that PERFECT garden of their dreams, where they can share with EVERYBODY, that they could never manage in life. Maybe it's the universe biggest Comics library.

Yeah, when you can't die and pain is kinda subjective, a good ol fashioned brawl IS the best way to communicate. Fist to Fist, ecto to ecto, come out the otherside understanding each other a bit better. But like?

.....you could ALSO just use your damn words, you know? Maybe some of us don't WANT to fight.

The freedom to Do Anything? Means a good chunk of us will say "Nah, we good". And move on to do other, non-violent things! Not every Area of the Zone is the SAME you know. It's like countries. Or, well, Galaxies? Since it IS far more spread out then any country will ever be.

It's why Danny probably didn't notice. Thought his area was all there is. It's the standard "my neighborhood is the default. Normal for everywhere" mindset that people unknowingly tend to have before they travel much. It's not like he had any chance to learn otherwise.

He had school in the morning. Had to stick close in case a fight broke out. How FAR could he truely travel? The end of the metaphorical street? The next block over? The Far Frozen alone was pushing it!

But then! He defeats the Tyrant of his Area of the Zone. And it's like a map filling in, in the back of his head. Perfect outline of what's "his" and "not his". And??? Wait, wut?

Why is he not surprised the Observants fuckin Lied? Pariah wasn't King Of Everything! He was king of... *head starts to violently hurt as he tries to grasp the scale of things* ow, Ow, OW! Bad idea! BAD IDEA!!! A chunk? Yeah, big chunk! Let's go with that!

It was APPARENTLY like saying "ruler of the known world". Other countries very much still existed, just APPARENTLY didn't count. Good to know! AFTER THE FACT.

At least HIS territory likes the "Wooooo! Anarchyyyyyy!" Goverment model. Frees him up to do other shit. He can come back to it LATER. But FIRST? :) Get? :) The FUCK :) Off his lawn! :) *kicks everyone back through the portal* *closes it* AND STAY INSIDE THE ZONE!

Abuse of power? Sorry, he can't hear you over his magically recovering sleep schedule and GPA. The fact he might ACTUALLY graduate. His new favorite past time of watch the GIW slowly losing both their funding AND minds. Mmmmmm~ relaxing!

He graduates.

He is the son of crazy people with a shit GPA. His parents may have finally come around on ghosts, started over on their research... with a frankly ALARMING enthusiasm, but? You can't undo decades of damage. The Fenton name is untouchable.

He applies anyway.

Goes ghost for the first time in over a year.

Is... bigger. Starlight and ice. Royal. It feels right, settled in a way. More HIM then his skin could ever hope to be. He notes it, but doesn't linger. Decides to find out what's OUTSIDE "his" territory.

And...

Huh.

The answer depends?

In one direction? An endless battle. From horizen to horizon, like shooting stars. Crashing and smashing, weapons clanging and ringing. Mad blood stained grins. Worthy opponents. A challenge that goes on forevermore.

He...backs away slowly.

Going sorta, up-ish? Leads to a weirdly muted stillness. Muffled. He can't find anybody. But the doors here are pretty... worn. He doesn't want to keep pushing.

Finally, he tries at an angle to the right. And? Spots a patrol? They look nervous to see him, but hold their ground. He asks what's in this direction. Is polite. They look incredibly relieved.

Which is how Danny? Learns about the SINGLE BEST thing ever. The thing I actively fantasize about. Long for. And gift to him because I can.

Floating island cities FULL of highly specific little shops and passion pursuits. All for damn near free, because they are mostly doing it for THEM and you just happen to be there. The islands go one for days in every direction. Overflow with color and sound and the flash of ghosts flying too and frow.

Stunned, Danny, jaw on the floor. Wanders the streets.

Finds a space themed shop and feels his eyes dilate like a cat. Mine ™. He gets a book on "First Astronaut's of their Species" and some BESPOKE space meme socks. Looks around. Decides that this? This is where his doing ALL his shopping from now on.

He's pretty sure he sees a shop dedicated solely to canned food from across the Multiverse.

There is a sale on corn(non radioactive), apparently.

He tells EVERYBODY. Well, Fenton and friends "everybody". But you get the idea! The shopping trip they organize? Is legendary. His Father finds a Fudge shop and probably scares the local ghost population with his mad Fudge Glee cackling. Mom found a weapon smith. And an old fashion lace maker. Jazz? Lost to the world of intergalactic boy bands and psychology textbooks.

Tucker made a running slide straight for the nearest tech shop. Then the butcher. And Sam?

........m....maybe if he doesn't ask? He can claim plausible deniability?

@hdgnj @legitimatesatanspawn @hypewinter @lolottes @nerdpoe

[artsninspo]

FORGIVELESS - VII - I DON'T MIND WHO'S WATCHIN' 👀

Full Masterlist

PREVIOUS CHAPTER

RIO MASTERLIST

Pairing: Rio (Good Girls) X Reader

Word Count: ~3.2K

Warning: NSFW 🌶️ 🌶️ 🌶️

Summary: This ones longer than most and steamy. Our two philanderers are in Mexico together where make up for lost time wink 😜 they're confronted with unexpected feelings and events.

VII - I DON'T MIND WHO'S WATCHIN'

Having recovered your suitcases from baggage you assess yourself in the airport mirror making you presentable. You can feel your heart beating violently in your chest at the stakes. As excited as you are to see Rio, you feel a little … Okay, a lot nervous. He hasn't spoken much about his family and why would he? But you were here now and wanted to make a good impression at the very least. But how would it look? What would they think of a woman that hasn't even signed the divorce papers, off on a getaway with her … boyfriend? Looking at your left hand the impression from years of wearing your wedding set is still there like a brand.

Don’t let James ruin this for you. You tell yourself juggling all the emotions. Just have fun with Rio. You add silently before looking yourself over in the mirror again and settling on confidence. Grabbing your bags you wheel them to the arrivals. The luggage you borrowed from your mother is hardly your usual style but it does the job. You look for a gentleman in a suit holding your name when you feel him behind you.

“You're crazy if you think I’m letting you get in a car with a stranger looking like that mama” He says, placing a peck on your neck as he takes his hand pulling you against him slowly at your waist. The effect on your body and mood is something worth studying. Closing your eyes and allowing yourself to relax.

“I missed you” you confess turning to face him and he smiles.

“You hide it well, you don't blow me up” Rio comments, not used to your restraint.

“You told me not to.” you remind him as he leans in stealing a kiss. It’s possessive and a bit of a show. You push him away playfully when you hear whistling from the other travellers. You can feel your cheeks burning.

“That was before I knew you, doesn't count” he shrugs casually rolling your bags to a truck.

“So I can call you whenever I want?” you ask as he gets your bags in.

“Mhm” he nods and you initiate a hug needing one really bad. Over the past few days you've missed the intimacy and physical connection the two of you share. Especially after being deprived of it for so long. Rio indulges you having missed the contact himself. He was out in the world living like a pubescent boy unable to control his needs, hornier than ever with only one person in mind. There was no point thinking of other women, they wouldn’t do it for him like you could. When you separate he gets the door and you get in. Rio walks around the front of the vehicle and pulls out of the lot. The console between you is big but it doesn't stop him from resting his hand on your thigh.

“What’s the plan for Today?” you ask.

“Rehearsals, but I’m not in the wedding party so I’m free,” he winks. His mind is already where yours is headed.

“And tomorrow?” you clarify.

“The wedding and reception. Day after I’m whatever you're on before heading home” he shrugs.

“Are you and your cousin close?” you ask and Rio’s hand leaves your thigh gripping the wheel as his jaw sets in frustration. “Sorry if I over-”

“Don’t apologise” Rio mutters, taking your hand and kissing the back of it before setting it back where it was. “We’re opposites, I’m here for my grandma. She raised us together and she’s old so I’m not gonna give her a headache by being a no show” Rio explains, omitting the more painful parts of the story. Reaching over you run your fingers against his stubble as he drives.

“I’m on whatever you’re on” you repeat.

“Nah, you stay squishy like a gummy bear. Put your feet up, relax and enjoy the vacation. Don't worry about me” he says.

“Friends don’t have a party when one of them is dealing with something.” you tell him.

“Friends?” Rio raises a brow and you shrug not knowing what other title to give him.

“You’re always there to listen to me” you add and he smiles again. And you move your hands from his facial hair to the top of his ear.

“You’re not allowed no other friends then” he comments and you laugh. Rio waits for you to push harder, settling in surprise when you don’t. In his experience women almost always wanted to title things. Arriving at the luxury resort you both hop out and attendants grab your bags. You walk up stairs to a treehouse style villa with nearly panoramic views in the main bedroom. It’s gorgeous and modern while somehow still feeling warm. You go to the window to admire the view of the jungle all around this villa.

“This is really really nice Rio” you turn to find him sitting on the bed. It’s huge and there's only one. Also, there are two luxury boxes beside him. “Rio” you ask unsure.

“You were sad and I know women like presents so I picked you up bags to match mine” he says casually. You smile leaning in to kiss him.

“Thank you” you smile as he places one of the boxes in your lap. Whenever James bought you gifts in the past he required a production of near hysterical praise while Rio almost hated acknowledgement of his kindness. With James there was always an occasion, with Rio it was just because. Your head spins trying to make sense of the man in front of you as you open the boxes to find a luxury duffle and carry on. “Thank you” you repeat overwhelmed by the gesture.

“Hey, mama, don't do that, don't cry” he says, reaching for you. He holds you and it's whiplash. His words and actions are the polar opposite of how he presents himself. The ‘I dont care facade’ is in stark contrast to how he treats you. Wiping your eyes you fight to keep the tears back.

“You're not allowed to have other friends either” you mutter and he laughs, his heart warming at you taking possession of him too.

“I don’t need any,” he  says to affirm your feelings before smothering you in quick kisses. You sit across him with your arms around his neck looking at him before he comes in for another kiss. He kisses you soft and slow, taking his time. Rio needs to savour every moment after so much time away. He needed to feel you. Feel your walls wrapped around his manhood, and our body writhing under him in pleasure. He kisses you deeper drawing out the seduction as he catches your bottom lip between his teeth pulling slightly. It’s just the right amount of pressure before he draws you out again, sucking your tongue. The kiss trails down your neck as you reach into his pants to make him feel as good as he's making you feel. Your hand moves in autopilot without a clearer view. His manhood comes to life in your hand as you wake it up stroking your hand lazily. Rio yanks your top down freeing your tits, his appetite for you insatiable as he places your pebbled nipples between his teeth kissing every part of your body that is sensitive to pleasure. Your strokes pick up along his length causing him to stop kissing you. Your eyes lock as rugged breaths take over. His eyes go low before closing in ecstasy from the pleasure you're beginning him. 

You're nearly on your knees about to blow him when the phone rings out. Panting Rio picks it up with his eyes still trained on you. He frowns in frustration. You see he’s trying to be free of his boxers and inside you. His body's reaction to yours makes you a little crazy. 

“Mmm” he sounds into the receiver clearly displeased.

“Alright, I’ll be there” he says before handing up pissed. Rio pulls you up from between his legs ready to kill Nick.

“Where are you going?” you ask.

“Early family dinner before rehearsals.” he snaps pulling his pants back on.

“Rio!” you whine, needing it.

“Don't look at me like that” he says with a harshness to his tone. Standing you look at yourself in the mirror and curse.

“What time?” you ask.

“Now, I’m late” he says getting on a watch before his shoes. You feel something is a foot and head to your luggage.

“What are you doing you don't have to come, mama.” he says.

“I’m coming to Rio, blame me for you being late” you say, finding a dress that should fit the occasion nicely without being too much. “Give me five and say we got lost” you suggest heading into the bathroom and when you don't hear the door slam you smile. He listened. Five minutes later you emerge needing a little help with the zipper. You look and smell delectable and if it wasn’t for his granny Rio would be inside of you. You slip on a pair of flat sandals and hold his hand. Looking up into his eyes you see he’s grateful. You walk with him to the dinner venue and find a table full of people whose expressions change at the sight of you.

“Sorry we’re late” you apologise knowing RIo isn't going to. Eyes light at the sight of you and you lock eyes with the bride who gives you an accepting nod as Rio finds his seat pulling out your chair. You sit first and he follows.

“You’re not late …” The man beside the bride says.

“Y/N” you smile and he holds his hand out.

“Nick” the man introduces himself.

“Y/N, don’t worry. We’re very happy to have you and Christopher here with us” the bride says and you shake her hand rejecting her soon to be husbands hand out of respect for Rio.

“Thank you for the grace. You're gorgeous by the way” You tell her honestly and she beams. You hope you've lessened tensions.

“You too” she smiles as you settle back in your seat you find Rio sharing a look full of animosity and place your hand on his thigh. It’s twenty more minutes of talking before the first course is brought out and you realise the last minute invite was a ploy from Nick, his cousin. Dinner is delicious and Rio and his future in-laws' families both seem nice enough. However, the animosity between Rio and Nick is thick and something everyone seems to tiptoe around with the two men only falling in line for their grandmother who seems to be the families matriarch. Everyone mixes for a while after the dinner but Rio keeps you close until his grandmother beckons him. You look through the album of engagement photos when the Bride appears in front of you Marisol, which you learned from conversation and the table setting.

“There's a site with an itinerary for the wedding with all the dates, times, locations and shuttles. I won’t let Nick’s petty ruin my day” she smiles, handing you a card with a QR code. 

Smiling, you place it in your purse. “Thank you”

“All I ask is if Nick pokes too much you try and wrangle the bear, only this once” she whispers.

“If we’re talking about Christopher. I can't control him” you speak frankly.

“No but he likes you. I’m a shrink. I know these things. Their issues are deep rooted, they dont like eachother but they love each other” she sighs motioning to Rio and Nick being admonished by their grandmother. You smile and find her doing the same. “I may not need you to wrangle the bear” Marisol smiles watching their grandmother raise her pointer to Nick.

“Thanks and don’t stress before your big day” you smile.

“Thank you. Not that you need it but we have several makeup artists for the family pictures tomorrow. Me and a few girls will be making a little trouble tonight if you want to come.” she offers.

“She’s busy Marisol, shrink someone else” You hear from Rio as he resumes his position behind you. Marisol smiles.

“Nice speaking with you doll. Rio, I like her. Be a gentleman like we know you can be, not an ass” Marisol smiles before walking away. You look up at Rio to find him wearing a smirk.

“She’s nice” you comment.

“She’s an angel with a saviour complex to marry a case like Nick” he whispers in your ear making you smile before kissing your cheek.

“Can we go now?” you ask.

“No, grandma found out I wasn't at the wedding party. Now, I am” he comments and you pout.

“Then after the rehearsal?” you propose with the innuendo in your expression. Rio smiles when he sees the want in your eyes is as great as the want in his.

“Don’t look at me like that” he warns, pulling you in closer. You send him puppy eyes. “Shhh” he whispers as you wear him down. The beach is turned into a church for the destination wedding. Honestly, it's breathtaking. The walk through forces you to revisit bittersweet memories and as they go through the vows and how things are supposed to go you slip out to call your mom.

“Hey baby”

“Hey, I forgot to call to tell you I got in okay. Rio brought me to the hotel and then we got roped into a family dinner and a rehearsal” you tell her.

“How's the weather?” she asks but her tone is off.

“What's wrong?” you ask and she sighs deeply.

“A friend of James and the friend's wife were apparently at the airport and saw you kissing Rio. James called livid.” she says and you shake your head as your heart starts racing. “You have nothing to be guilty about. I’m just warning you baby-girl, he knows” she explains and you nod acknowledging the jig is up. 

“Thanks for telling me”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m going to re-join the festivities. I'll talk to you later. Thanks for telling me” you tell her.

“I love you”

“Love you too mom” you smile heading back to the dress rehearsal only to find Rio on high alert.

“You okay?” he asks first.

“Mhm” you nod.

“Come on, this shitshow is over” he says, wrapping his arm around you.

“Rio we need measurements” Nick shouts.

“Why so he can fuck up my suit?” Rio mutters as his grandma interjects that she has them already. “You look too good in that dress mama” he mutters trailing behind you.

“Look even better when you take it off me” you wink.

“Hey, before we go at it. Thanks for today” he says, arriving at your door with the key. You’re a little confused.

“For coming?” you ask.

“Nah, for coming with me to the brunch and diffusing the situation. I know you have your own stuff and you don't need to deal with mine too so I appreciate it.” he says.

“You don't have to thank me Rio, you're already getting lucky” you tease.

“Throw in a little extra” he winks joking too. You know that once you open the door neither of you will be leaving the room until morning. Heading in first you smile in excitement knowing you're about to have sex with the best. Your chemistry is through the roof and so is his appreciation for you, his gifts, attention to detail and voluntary acts of service. There's nothing to worry about in his presence, a feeling you don't know if you've ever truly experienced before.

“How do you want me?” you ask, stepping out of your slippers and headed to the bed. Locking the door behind him Rio’s eyes track you.

“Stop right there,” He says. 

The answer is simple, his mood is rare. Seeing you smiling among his family did something to him. He needed to show you appreciation for having his back today. He wanted to watch you lose control as he went deeper. Your back is arching to accommodate his size. The glow that would come off of your skin as your body grew warmed from his touch. He presses a button to draw the shades and another to dim the lights. Before closing the distance to you. You can sense that tonight is different. You take a deep breath in, admiring the man standing in front of you. His hands go to your shoulders slipping the straps of your dress off. When Rio’s done undressing you're happy you're wearing one of your new sets. His eyes look sated already. Like it means the world to him to have you here with him, like he knows you bought the set you're wearing just for him. Rio’s head dips to your neck and he kisses sloppily before the pressure threatens to leave hickeys.

“Rio” you whisper, breaking the contact to kiss his lips. 

“Mmm” he groans, leading you to the bed.

“I need you” you whisper needy. His eyes shut firmly. He breathes heavily to try and calm down. There's no room for more foreplay than the past few days have been.

“Ok baby” he mutters and you go to turn knowing he likes to take you from behind. A firm hand stops you from turning.

“I want to see you” he says through rugged breaths and low lids. Without words you oblige feeling your body heat again. Rio kisses you deeper as you position you comfortably in the bed. Years of yoga make any position easy. Only, tonight isn't about flexibility or stamina. He needed to be inside you. It’s exactly where you need him. Your legs open instinctively, your body humming and ready for him. He springs free from his boxers and your eyes find his. 

He gives you another slow sloppy kiss before pushing your panties aside. The look he gives you makes your toes curl. Familiar fingers test the waters with teasing strokes. Proof of your anticipation is coating the fingers that end in his mouth. Placing one hand down Rio guides his manhood into you. His brown eyes hold yours watching as you adjust to inch after inch of him. 

Time slows as your body acclimates, growing more comfortable and aroused by the contact and his size. His eyes close once he's fully in and you pull him into a kiss tasting his effect on you. Your tongues dance as his strokes go from shallow to deep.

His eyes never leave you, the vulnerability of it ignites all of your senses. Every touch is electric. Every moan felt deeper and deeper. Every lude comment or lustful whisper makes each of you more reactive. Your eyes open and close in sequence as he strokes deeper and deeper until he’s rooted. Rio’s eyes open and his body stiffens. You watch arousal build as yours does too. He smiles just as his orgasm rips through him. Warm heat oozes inside of you before spilling out. Without breaking the intimate connection, Rio is now on his back with your head on his chest. His arms wrapped around you as he stares at the ceiling in a post-coital daze. His hand trails over your back and it feels like nothing you’ve ever experienced before. Your heart is full, body is sated and you feel safe.

Authors Note: Hopefully this is the beginning of your 🇲🇽 expectations. How did you enjoy them reconnecting. How did you like to see Nick. What do you think happens next?

NEXT CHAPTER

TAGS: @meadows5 @wnbweasley @becauseimher @ariiaeltheedonn @woahthatshitfat @miniaturehideoutmentality @kokobells @ffenthusiastt @sowhatariyana @1xtral1983 @theegoddessofmelanin @fictionalreads

[crimsoncandy04]

Behold, a scenario where you become the unwilling sex slave of The Balladeer.

POV: You were with The Traveler in Inazuma trying to aid the resistance. You didn't have much to say for yourself except for a bow and an electro vision that had been damaged in a fight with local samurai and was now malfunctioning during use. But one thing you had was a fighting spirit. And hope that the vision hunt decree would be abolished soon.

However such a world would never belong to you. Fate would have a more sinister plan for you as it seemed.

And that fate began to unravel the day you went with The Traveler to find the delusion factory and ended up face to face with the most egotistical harbinger out of the 12 you heard of.

The Balladeer.

You always hated him the most. And he seemed to be almost pleased with this as whenever you were in close proximity to him, he would stare you down with a strange sadistic gleam in his indigo eyes and refuse to look away until you did first due to being extremely uncomfortable.

You hated him so much.

And you hated it even more when a strange violet gas began to fill the factory and caused Aether to pass out right next to you. Thus giving you no excuse but to face the man who frankly terrified and disgusted you.

You were Fontaine born and raised thankfully. So being able to hold your breath for long periods of time was nothing. And when you saw Miko appear on the scene and prepare to rescue you, you felt so relieved that this nightmare would be over soon.

Oh how wrong you were.

"a life for a life" was the promise that was made as the gnosis exchanged hands and Miko prepared to pick up Aether and disappear with him. But just as you stepped over to join her and finally be free from the piercing gaze of Scaramouche, his voice suddenly sounded more sly and sinister than before as he reminded the priestess that she had made an exchange for ONE life. Not multiple. And that he was being "cheated" by her trying to include you in the deal without prior say.

You couldn't believe your ears. No one could. Paimon screeched that he was being unfair and begged Miko to just leave already, Miko paused in her haste to go and ultimately seemed to be thinking about something before she turned to you and gave you that same particular tone and smile.

"Oh don't make that face little one. He's right you know? Vile as the claim may be. I do feel bad for what I'm about to do, but sometimes sacrifices have to be made and your friend here is very important to our plans right now. I'll send someone to retrieve you when I can. In the meantime do try not to lose your mind. It'd be a great shame if by the time help arrived, you were nothing but a mindless and broken hostage unfit to re-enter society."

What the HELL was she saying.

"Miko...Miko wait...MIKO!" You ended up screaming as she vanished in a burst of violet particles.

You had messed up then.

In your haste to try and reach the fox lady and yell for her to please reconsider, you had opened your mouth.

All at once your fear and devastation had become rage at being left behind like YOUR life was less than and unworthy of fighting for.

You tried to calm your emotions but it was no use. You collapsed to the ground in a heap of defeat and helplessness. The last thing you saw was the silhouette of that monster slowly walking over to your unconscious body on the ground.

You felt strong yet delicate hands reach under your arms and pull you up before everything went white.

When you came to once again you were sore all over. You didn't know what happened. All you could feel in your head was an endless stinging pain that never seemed to get any better. And that was BESIDES the throbbing pain in your more sensitive areas. Particularly your nipples and clit.

You had barely opened your eyes when you realized you were completely undressed and bound to what appeared to be an operating table somewhere unfamiliar to you. Your heart raced as you tried to sit up but your wrists and ankles were chained to small metal hooks protruding from the surface of the place where you lay.

You finally screamed and began to cry for someone to help you. Anyone.

But no one came.

It felt like hours before you finally heard the voice of the LAST person you wanted to see right now in your state.

"you're finally awake. And here I thought you died before we even got fully acquainted." Scaramouche leered from somewhere behind me.

What was going on? Why was he here? WHY WAS HE SO CALM ABOUT ME BEING NAKED?

You said nothing. Just shivering as you fought the urge to vomit suddenly.

Oh archons please don't let happen what you think is about to happen...

You feel a gloved hand reach out and gently caress your cheek as the other softly ran its way through your long dark hair.

The room was dim and you couldn't see much but you could definitely feel and you honestly wished that you couldn't as you hear a small amused hum from your tormentor, his hand slowly moving down to grab hold of one of your breasts. He squeezed and seemed to be almost analyzing something you couldn't see. Yet for some reason as he cradled your head almost lovingly and fondled your medium sized assets, you feel your disgust practically drain away in an instant.

You feel yourself relax a little. The reaction was most certainly your own but it still felt very...wrong. like your brain was acting without conscience effort.

It felt like your head was tingling.

The sensation quickly moved from your head to your torso. Feeling almost like a stabbing pain until your body began to grow aroused from it. Your pussy getting wetter as you felt your nipples harden in his hands.

You hear a chuckle as you gasp and try to instinctively fight, only to feel your entire body go limp every time.

Scaramouche then chose to roughly pinch and tug on your sore nipples until you pitifully pleaded with him to stop. He didn't. Instead he pulled harder until you felt something odd embedded in your flesh.

Metal. Something like a small rod buried in your tender skin.

It felt like your heart stopped as you realized that someone had actually pierced both of your nipples while you had been out cold and likely had done the same to your poor clit. But why?

Well you soon found out.

Suddenly you feel a painful current of electro leave Scaramouche's fingertips and shock you hard. The sensation reminded you of a bite. Quick yet painful.

You knew you should have been scared. You wanted to in that moment, but it felt like the emotion was almost instantly cut short as the same pleasant tingling infiltrated your skull and quickly traveled down your back. Forcing your entire body to relax again.

"How shameful. Letting your captor turn you on like this." The harbinger jeered as you felt him release you and instead make his way over to your bound feet where he quickly went to poke and tease your now swollen and excited nub that still stung from being nonconsensually modified earlier.

"Disgusting bug. But I suppose you can't help it. Humans are after all, stupid and fragile creatures, driven by their useless little feelings and desires."

You try to keep silent as he verbally degrades you yet when you feel his cool tongue against your sore clitty, you can't help yourself and finally moan out loud.

Tears began to well up in your big brown eyes as this small sound of delight from your lips seemed to encourage him to continue.

He held your knees apart as he focused solely on overstimulating your pleasure spot and as much as you didn't want to, you could feel yourself getting closer to climaxing.

"Please! Please don't! I can't!" You whine as you feel him moan against your sex and send even more unwanted vibrations throughout your core.

He doesn't stop until you end up creaming on his face. Even then he continues to suck and lick your clit until you're practically begging him for mercy and on the verge of cumming for a third time in a row.

Every time the same tingling would take away all of your negative emotions and make you actively CRAVE Scaramouche's touch.

You hated that you loved this so much.

And if anything, the more Scaramouche made you cum, the more you could almost feel your brain associating him with just that. Warping your old perception of him slowly but surely.

Until in your mind, he became the source of the only pleasant feelings that kept you sane amidst the darkness.

He did eventually fuck you, but it wasn't for a long time. And it was because YOU begged him to.

You didn't know what had come over you. All you knew was that you needed him one night like never before.

You found yourself kneeling at his feet and kissing his feet begging to be used even though a small dying voice in the back of your mind found it odd.

After what must've been days in the dim room you originally woke up in, you were blindfolded and taken elsewhere.

And this one singular lavish bedroom that stayed locked from the outside at all times would be your new home.

At least that's what your master had told you.

You weren't sure when you started calling him that. In fact a lot of your memories seemed to be gone or hazy.

But you didn't care.

You just wanted n-no you NEEDED your master now. You needed his cruelty and his kindness. You wanted nothing else.

Every day he would visit you in your playroom, you sat waiting by the door every time you heard the knob, crouched and ready to crawl to him and greet him eagerly after a long day like the bitch you now were. Complete with a cute collar and tail too! Not to mention the ears...

You'd happily wait for Scaramouche to free his cock from the confines of his shorts and smirk as he ordered you to service him like a good girl and swallow his seed. You never once disobeyed him. Not that you wanted to.

You knew that insubordination would result in you being tied up and having electricity ran through your piercings repeatedly until you peed yourself in humiliation and cried. Only then would your master release you. Once you began to plead for forgiveness and were reduced to nothing but a wailing and pitiful little creature.

No.

You always did what you were told because the rewards were so much better than you ever imagined.

If you succeeded in your efforts and made him finish quickly, you were fucked raw and hard by him until your belly began to swell from the constant flow of hot cum that was fucked into your womb as a prize for your obedience.

And on certain days, you were even given kisses and massages. Especially if he was in a good mood and hadn't rewarded you in a long time.

Your new life was simple. You were the harbinger's plaything. You remained locked away and cherished sensually as time seemed to go on and on without change.

In fact, the day someone broke into your bedroom and immediately scooped you up in a blanket and declared in a hushed tone that they were freeing you, nothing happy came from hearing these words for you.

No no no.

You WANTED your master!

You didn't want to be out there!

But it was no use. The person had a glider and had flown away with you during the night before anyone could take notice.

And ever since then your entire life had been miserable.

He called himself Aether.

He said he was your friend. But you couldn't remember anything he was talking about no matter how hard you tried. Hasn't master always been your only company?

He and others spoke about scary things like microchips in someone's brain and memories being distorted as a form of control.

You wanted to go home so badly. It was scary out here.

Your only solace was the fact that your master hadn't completely left you yet. You dreamt of him kissing you again. You could practically see him around you like a phantom sometimes, telling you that you were still his good girl.

And one day as you felt a small kick in your belly, you swore you could hear him laughing from somewhere far away.

You needed to be with him again.

[adoregojo]

mikage's 5 steps guide! - nagi.s

i missed writing for nagi... my loverboy.. also this writing style is so fun??? wth??? i need to write like this again. i can barely keep one eye open so if there's any typo, ignore pls pls.

warnings: some cussing ig?

nagi was never that charming.

'charming' couldn't even stand being a word in his dictionary to be honest, nagi truly had zero sense of romance within him. he was an actual brick-walled person when it came to these things, or anything of strong-emotions in particular, there was no thoughts behind those void eyes of his but a circle of: sleep, eat, go to work, eat again, play games, sleep, and repeat.

even back to his high school years, not once he recalls talking to a girl, let alone getting a girlfriend, that was something beyond out of his character. maybe there was a girl that confessed to him, he remembered on valentines day he got a letter saying that he should go to the school's roof. and he ended up leaving the poor girl hanging on the air till the sky was clean orange because he genuinely 'forgot', nagi then earned the title 'heartbreaker' for a year straight, he let it be since it was much of a hassle to keep on correcting them. not like his reputation was any better before.

so you could say that nagi wasn't that much of a company to have around, on the other hand was his friend, reo who was basically the opposite of nagi, if anything he was prince charming himself. those social skills were enough to befriend anyone on sight, he got the looks, money and attention was surrounding him 24/7.

and even if reo gather the earth power to try and motivate nagi would go down hill, every time he tried setting him on a date it's either gonna end up horrible or nagi using the excuse to go to the bathroom and vanish to the nowhere. what an asshole.

at some point, reo accept the fact that maybe he's friend will in fact die alone.

and things switched around when you came to the picture.

first it wasn't that hard to notice you, your desk was glued to him after all. it was weird when you would greet him every morning and wish him a good night when you left, no one ever did that to him before, he tends to ignore and ends up being ignored. it was nice, a little reminder that somone was seeing him, acknowledging him.

slowly, the walls between you two was falling apart with each introduction. when you would pat him from his little naps for lunch time, or when it was leaving time, then he would stare at your back until your figure disappeared with a last wave, staring at the door for a little too long, perhaps wishing for you to walk back in.. who said that?

it was getting worse, or better, not the best at analysing his feelings. but nagi found himself looking out for a glimpse of you around the office, he has no shame to admit that the world suddenly felt gloomy without your presence beside him.

maybe he raised his head a little too fast when you walked in, maybe not. but he mostly did.

then you would ramble about how your shitty neighbour refused to clean after his pets filth and you two had a screaming match for a while before realising you were late. the was the worst way to start a monday morning, so you closed your eyes shut, rubbed your forehead for a peace of mind. then you opened your eyes, a piece of your favourite snaked would magically appear on your table.

for some reason your eyes traveled to the white painted head, he was looking at the other side, avoiding your questionable gaze hoovering over him.

Mondays aren't so bad after all, you thought.

perhaps he did place it there, who knows. —but nagi just really didn't like seeing you glum.

possibly, did he grew fond of you? he doesn't know. all he knew that lunch box you handed him the next day is a blessed gift within his palms. too good for him, you were too good for him.

you were the prove that the sky itself favoured him above anyone.

and when nagi wanted to ask you out, he only had one person to guide him to your heart.

so the very mysterious person behind the scene (reo) had a astounding idea that if someone like nagi; mister, game-addiction-freak. that on every step he'll get points! 100-90 if he did well, 80-70 not bad, 60-40 could've been worse.. 40-20 definitely could've been better... 20-0 yikes....

so with that, nagi was sent on a personal mission to win you over and soothe you with his nonexistent charm.

STEP ONE: be straightforward! it's not good to keep on dancing on someone's mindset with hints, it may cause a lot of confusion feelings and misunderstandings! only ask under a certain circumstances, a suitable place where were you two sit alone so they could have they're attention on you only. SIDE NOTE: try to make a good welcoming conversation to ease up the tension first then ask!

so nagi did just that, maybe a little too well.

he couldn't even eat his own lunch and just kept on rubbing his sweaty hands against each other's, staring back forth —he just noticed how many unfamiliar faces were there? did he really only seeyou?一 he was extra quiet which made you ask him multiple times if he was okay, he would just hum in response. what a smooth talker.

"nagi, you haven't even touched your food. are you actually okay?" you questioned, concerned. after taking a brief sip of your juice, but nagi just shook his head in conform, you raised a brow, a little in disbelief that he would think an obvious lie would go through you just like that. there was something off. the tension upon you two was twisting.

the words were on the tip of his tongue, yet they felt un-removed. all this stressing over four words were a pain, and a heavy burden he needed to reales before he lose his breathing track.

and the moment you took a bite and chewing on it, he just had to drop the bomb carelessly.

"go out with me."

so nagi didn't try and sooth the air, nor start a decent conversation. and when he gathered the earth courage to speak up, it wasn't even a question, that was a whole ass demand.

although, it worked. but it definitely could've gone better than you choking on your own food that you swore you witnessed death himself laughing his ass off at you.

what a great timing.

after you saw the heavens gates open for you and life flashing through your eyes, weirdly enough, you accepted.

huh, maybe he didn't mess up everything like he thought (he in fact did).

20 points!

STEP TWO: dress nice and compliment their outfit! dressing well means that you take the date seriously, complimenting them to foster a better sense of comfort and confidence, and they'll compliment you back! extra points if you made them all blushy and giddy!

nagi really wasn't the best at this.

instead of dressing 'nicely', all he wore was a big white hoodie and pants. didn't put much effort to his hair and just went off. it wasn't his problem that picking an estimated outfit was such a hassle. it's good at least it is something that covers him, right?

it all went downhill when you showed up, listen. he always thought you looked fit and nice in your suit work, and now he definitely wasn't ready to see you in regular, uniform out of work place. you just looked... so good, even great, stunning and beautiful, you name it.

nagi barely breath out a greeting, his eyes too busy scanning you from head to toe over and over, he couldn't take his gaze out of your sight even when you were on your way to the table. and he almost stumbled over twice for that, the first was nearly his face planting on the floor, and the second time he almost knocked out a whole plate of drinks. you just somehow managed to muddle over half of senses with your looks alone, maybe he should've considered writing his last letter.

"nagi.. you're staring too much."

the of yours dragged him out of his thoughts line. he saw as you held a sheepish— extra points?—expression, it was either from his heart-eyes eating you alive, or the date itself was bringing you to the nervous state, or both?

nagi cleared his throat, slightly cringing at himself for staring a little too hard. he was absolutely not doing reo's steps justice.

"sorry. you just, look really pretty." if not the prettiest of all, but again, nagi has eyes for you only to pay a mind to others around him.

your breath halts at that, you don't know what to say for a second, nagi himself was complementing you? and the fact that he said as it was a matter of a fact was such an out character thing. but at the same time a an amiable change. and it was for you only.

"thank you, I appreciate that." you say as you kept on twirling your fingers over your hair, you felt like a lovesick teenager. "I think you look very nice as well." you add, almost like a whisper, he still managed to catch it.

nagi let out a scoff, not even a smile forming on his features for that. "it's just hoodie, really."

"i still like it, it's very like you. I'm happy seeing that you can be yourself around me."

he flinch a bit at that, he really wasn't ready for this- it takes a strong-soulful soldier to handle this. and he really, really wanted to be gods strongest warrior just for you. so he gets a grip on himself and mumble a thanks.

you smile sweetly at that, and nagi may really be not the strongest soldier under your spell.

50 points!

STEP THREE: make a conversation! show interest in their personal life and listen to every ramble they have, try to also throw side comments there and here to support them and blow away any negative feelings of the talk being one-sided. also try and talk about your own life to make it easier for them to talk all night. SIDE NOTE: try and joke around to bloom a friendly tune. extra points if you made them laugh!

third time's a charm, right?

however, since nagi was uncommonly unfond of others babbling. in fact he found it annoying and it was hard keeping his eyes evenly open. but then when it comes to you, he found your feathery tune to be airy, he grew ease to it pitch.

so he handed over all his senses of hearing to you on one knee, and let you speak freely. switching between different topics form nowhere, and like the world- his world- itself was turning for you only, his eyes and soul was for you to talk and he'll rot into a shallow void to your lovely enunciate to play on a broken radio repeating.

maybe he should tell you to stop, because your non-touched food was getting cold, and maybe he should tell that to himself that too because he didn't even realize his plate was even there.

it felt like he had drifted from the original plan, instead the tables were turned and he was the one being swoon by you..

not that he minded honestly. but ending the night with you being the one who filled the space was enough to create a makeshift reo berating him, nevertheless, nagi really, really wanted you to like him back. to consider the idea of another date with him.

plus, he also liked your laugh, he really did. didn't the guide say something about making you laugh? even tried telling a joke that you actually chuckled at, something that was unneeded to say that his book was empty, he had to search on google "funny jokes" for gods sakes, how hopeless can he possibly get?

"why couldn't the sunflower ride it bike?" nagi utter flatly, "why" you slope your head to the side. "because it lost it petals." the joke was old, dusty, forsaken. and the urge to recoil the second it left his mouth was understandable. but somehow you still pushed out a laugh at it, you don't know if it was an amusingly one, or because that nonchalant face was clearly begging you to laugh. with that monochromatic tone and all made it even funnier.

that bloomed the smallest amount of exhilaration within his rib cage. it was lovely, and what was made the giddiness to flourish inside his belly was the fact that he was the reason for it. it felt priceless. a sight to a crave in his midst. completely bizarrely about all of this, nagi let's you take over him. to consume him, his heart, his breath and soul were yours to claim.

at least he did something good that night?

70 points!

STEP FOUR: walk them back home! it's quite a simple act but very affected and gentlemanly, make sure to make them feel save and guarded! hidden notes: try to hold their hand!

after paying the price, you and nagi take your leave. with also nagi's off attitude with him opening the doors for you and let you walk first. although, who were to complain about such a treatment? you'll take it

but weirdly enough, nagi was a bit on the edge. like he had a n amount of ants in his pants, couldn't look at your direction, barely spoke out a response, or anything in general. and 一was he holding his breath???一

wait, was nagi actually.... nervous?

you glanced at him, shoulders stiffened, hands moving too much and fast, mouth was dry and agape, half dizzy 一when he isn't?一

now that you did not expect.

it was even ten times worse than him in the cafeteria earlier, it felt like nagi was about to confess to you his cruelest crime. the tenseness was mixed with the deep-seated tenderness, nevertheless, it was a bittersweet taste. and it kept on going until you two stood together by your home.

"i had fun tonight, nagi." you spoke first.

he finally flinched out of his own world, he sees you rubbing your arm, the gesture was sketchy, almost as if you were waiting for him to say something, anything.

but nagi's mind was blank, blow out an air in his ear and it will run out of the other, empty head. yet his mind was roaming, that need to say something clung up to him again. too many thoughts he cannot process.

but all nagi did know was he wanted you to stay a little longer.

"that's.. good?" he should have stayed quiet, what kind of answer is that.

you nodded awkwardly in agreement, breathing out an 'yeah..' he felt a bit guilty at making you feel uncomfortable, the fact of him being unfaithful may have crossed your mind, and nagi didn't like it. but you always managed to make feel weird, he always felt too warm when you would get close to him, words were lost when he would look at your eyes, and now this..

but despite everything, he felt like himself when he was with you the most..

every game had it secret move, and his was that he need to let himself be.

"can we do this again? i also had a good night." a part of nagi wanted to add that it was one of the best nights he ever had, yet it was too cheesy, cringe.

"yes!" you replied, too fast. you sounded so desperate! you palmed your mouth, embarrassment remains on your face as you cleared your throat. "i mean.. yes, we can do this again."

nagi had to physically bent down his head, he was gonna set you on fire alive with his eyes, if he may say, you looked cute when flustered. and his heart wouldn't stop beating so infuriated, almost bursting out raw of chest.

nagi for some reason, stretched out his arms. it was bold and he knew it, he just did it and hoped for you to handle it. "um.. can i?" he sees you halting at your place. eyes ogling around but his own.

you walk up all jittery to him until there's barely any inches left between the two of you, you kept your eyes glued to your feet as if it was the most interesting thing in this moment, but it's also like you were asking him if it was okay, unsureness. so he pushes your head gently forward to rest on his stiffen chest. an arm runs around your back to force you as close as possible to him.

you shrivel when nagi's nose would be buried deep unto your hair locks. your scent would draw him at slacken, his whole body bending against yours that you felt like he wanted to crawl under your skin desperately, searching for the seeds of endless love you endowed to him.

you didn't know if you were somehow intoxicated, but you swore that you felt a pair of soft lips pressing against your skull, god, you felt like melting and soon to become a paste sliding down between his fingers. you gently pushed yourself back, and perhaps you imagined nagi's whining for you to not let go. it's like you were gonna fly away once he unwrapped you free. the second you meet his face, a pout expression on his lips, and you couldn't help yourself from cupping his cheeks, squeezing them slightly. a smile made it way to your face as his eyebrows grew frowned.

nagi's hands were on yours, pulling them down from his face, but not too far. unabashedly keeping his eyes locked with yours, he was holding you tight and close, basically hostage. the bug-stomach is back at again but more fiercely than ever.

80 points!

FINAL STEP: kiss.

the dull hue travels down on your lips. boldly, he doesn't look away for what felt like eternity, if anything it seems like they grew heavy the second you parted them slightly to say something that sticked on your tongue.

"can i kiss you?"

was he trying to kill you?

you don't respond, instead you made a move to give him a quick peck on his cheek. backing off faster than ever. nagi stood still, rooting in his place, completely bamboozled. his mind stopped working and his eyes were drifting off in different directions.一is it normal that he felt like melting to the ground?一

"im so sorry, nagi- i just got really nervous and-"

"seishiro."

"eh?"

"seishiro, call me seishiro." he finally found a piece of mind to say. he didn't know if it came out as a command, but he sincerely wanted you to call him by his name. he'd die a happy man then.

"well.. goodnight, seishiro. can't wait for our next date," you said, weaving before your door. nagi barely being able to wave back, his mind was still half empty. you just made him see the light of the stars and left with with the sweetest, loveliest smile for him to think about for the next couple of weeks.

maybe he stood there for a little longer than he should have, his face was on fire, his heart on race track. antithesis of the nonchalant face he had, he made a move to rub the spot you pressed your soft lips against. and the first thing that came to his mind that it was definitely worth it.

and by now, he absolutely forgot about the points and the game itself. oh well, at least half of it worked. he just did it in his own version, which apparently was charming to you. nagi thinks if being charm to you, than he can come over anything.

limitless points! you have made your own path to the heart!

[feelingdozy]

What Once was an Awful Day - Suguru Getou

summary: You get home to be greeted by your boyfriend Suguru, who only has one thing on his mind, and after, you'll be forgetting all about your bad day like it never happened

wc: 2,0k

warnings: 18+ porn w/out much plot, biting/marking & hickeys, fingering, begging, oral (f! receiving), p in v, unprotected sex, creampie, light bondage, not really proofread

Today had been the most obnoxious day- the world outside annoyed you to where you swear you could feel the frustration bubbling over- you had to hold back the urges not to yell at people who asked you the stupidest questions or spared you unnecessarily mean glares. Being outside your apartment door made you particularly overjoyed- ready to lie in bed and relax in the comfort of your home with Suguru by your side.

Keys jingling in your hand, you put them in the lock, twisting them accordingly as you opened the door with a creak. To your surprise, your boyfriend stood right at the entrance, assumingly waiting for your return. Your eyes lit up at the sight, taking in your handsome boy.

"Hey babe, how was-" Before you could finish, the door was shut with a loud slam behind you, echoing in the hallway. You paid it no mind as the sight in front of you took all of your attention, not expecting to be lifted off the ground as you dropped the bag in your hands, landing with a quiet thud, accompanied by an embarrassingly loud squeal.

"Suguru?!" Now in a bridal carry, the man escorted you to your shared room in his arms, displaying the result of heavy and intense training. You licked your lips, catching yourself from drooling all over him at the appealing gesture. God damn was your boyfriend ever hot sometimes, especially when he wanted you so bad.

He dropped you gently onto the bed, only a quiet plop being heard as he made work of your shirt after asking, "Can I?".

You nodded, "Mhm", excited to see where this would take you. Suddenly you had forgotten all about your bad day- this was about to be one of the best days of your life- every day with Suguru was.

Once your shirt was discarded somewhere to the side, he kissed down your neck as your head fell back to give him more room, leaving a trail of saliva in his wake. Every time his lips even grazed your flesh, a gasp easily slid past your lips because of how comfortable you were to let him hear your noises, and how he had you right in his grasp. His breath all over your neck made you blissfully sensitive to his every touch, jolting up into him at the slightest of fingertips traveling your body.

He was gentle as you arched into him for more, pulling you in and making you succumb to him- teasing you, he started to get more aggressive. The kisses turned into nips and nibbling, trailing down lower and lower. Tickling you with his tongue, you let out a quiet moan as he sucked a hickey near your breast, then straightening up to see you looking at him with need- you're body fidgety and desperate forehead already a little sweaty with hair sticking in different places. He just loved the sight of you like this- he admired the way he could get you to such a state. You were entranced, soaking in his lust filled gaze.

"Mmm- you okay, pretty girl?" Leaving no room for a reply, he only went back to tormenting you, focusing on the spot that had you gripping onto him for stability. He still had his shirt on, keen on pleasuring you before anything had to do with him.

"Hahh- Suguru, please, stop teasing." Ruthless, he kept on, hands getting relentless and finally groping your tits that he had perked up from the cold and his teeth. The way his canines had bit into you got you riled up- excited to see yourself marked- by him. You'd show it off in the most subtle ways, and he especially loved seeing his work up close and keeping it for his eyes only. It got him painfully hard each time he'd admire you after doing it, unable to stop himself from putting his eager hands in your pants to graze his cold fingertips over your bundle of nerves.

But he'd get to that later, eager to keep up his teasing act. Surprising you, he brought his lips to yours, tangling with each other sloppily, loving the way he was so desperate for you. He couldn't stop the mess that was your makeout session. Holding onto him once again, this time one of your hands had cupped his cheek and the other slung around his neck, not daring to pull him away in the slightest. Eventually he separated the two of you for air, kissing your cheek with the utmost care as he made his way down to your jaw, up to your earlobe, sucking on it ever-so-slightly to get a rise out of you, loving the way you arched up into him.

His body was only able to give you so much friction with the way the man was positioned, so you grabbed his waist and pressed the lower half of his body to be fully against you to where his crotch was working delightfully in your favor, humping you and giving you some sort of friction- you were begging for any sort of attention you could get, even if you had to do it yourself. Mixed with the sweet sensation of more hickeys being made on your skin, unable to hold yourself back, you started to get more vocal- and boy, did that ever start him up.

Now rutting against you, he had to hold himself back from sliding your panties and putting his dick in to continue his mean plan- he could feel his precum staining his boxers already, and you hadn't even laid a hand on his lower region yet. Now at your collarbone, His warm mouth finally made it to your tits once again, his soft tongue licking a stripe to see the bud harden from his touch before pulling it into his mouth. First lightly sucking on it, he spared you no reprieve as he bit down, eliciting more yelps out of you.

His other hand roughly pinched at the other, giving it attention so it didn't feel left out. Before your hand could dip lower into your pants, he had stopped and diverted his attention to a tie he had kept from your work blouse that was somewhere off to the side of the bed. Understanding what he wanted to do, you offered up your hands up immediately, putting them out for him to tie them perfectly together.

"S'that good baby?" he asked, getting an aggressive kiss in return for a yes. Reluctantly, he pulled away, not wanting to get distracted from what he really wanted to do. His head dipped down, and your stomach filled with lustful anticipation. Making quick work of your pants, he pressed light kisses to your lower stomach, making you squirm from his grasp. Knowing you were ticklish only spurred him on, granting you more as you could only sit there and take it, sad attempts at removing his lips by grasping his dark locks and pulling him up and away- it was no use.

Now down to your underwear, his hands found the waistband, pulling them down your legs and seeing the trail of slick you left on them before throwing them aside with your other clothes. You hissed at the cold, but his breath on your thighs made you warmer, and made you hold onto his hair harder with balled fists, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation. Sucking more hickeys into the skin of your thighs, he enjoyed the way you tried to buck your hips to meet his mouth- you wanted anything you could get. And who was he to deny?

Unexpectedly, he licked a long stripe up your cunt, followed up by a finger prodding at your entrance. Not giving you a moment, he pressed a kiss to the hardening bud, the finger easily sliding in because of how wet you were. Tongue circling your clit, you arch into him, moaning out his name- pleading for more. He groans at the way your voice is like music to his ears, your cunt encouraging him to buck his hips into the mattress, getting off on your pleasure as he made sure to take in your blissfully pleasured face.

"Taste so sweet, pretty girl- mm, sit still for me, wanna enjoy this"

No mercy in his words, he flicked the bundle of nerves, eliciting louder moans of his name- music to his ears as another finger entered your cunt with ease. Now he was able to curl them, reaching the spot he knew would have you arching and whining in his hands. Looking down at him, your slick mixed with his spit coated his chin and made you fall back, unwanting to make eye contact- you'd cum on the spot.

"Ahh-! Suguru, mm, please-!" Clutching onto him harder, your legs threatening to squeeze his head- the man didn't mind one bit. Soon enough he's lapping at your delicious cunt like a madman, looking up every so often to see your reaction as your met with his pussy-drunk face. It only makes you yearn for more, so thankful to your lover.

He's also thankful to you as you get louder- making him more vocal in turn. Hitting your g-spot, you're screaming his name when he introduces a third finger, and sucking on your clit harder brings you over the edge. Gasping for air, he doesn't leave a moment's reprieve on your puffy, abused cunt as he keeps at his meal, overstimulating you as your hands try to break free of the tie tightly knotted around them.

After opening you up, his hands move to your thighs, kneading them like dough as he tongue fucks you. He does it while watching you, his boxers coated in his pre-cum when he sees the way your eyes roll to the back of your head in a mix of pleasure and overstimulation. His thumb roughly plants itself at your nub, rubbing harsh circles to grant you another release.

Unable to stop it again, you're brought over the edge, panting as you struggle to clasp his now sweaty strands that fall nicely over his face.

As you're recovering, your vision is so clouded with lust from your orgasms that you can hardly tell he's stripping now- you only come to realize it when his rock-hard cock is being pushed into you.

With one hard thrust, your back in a dreamland- seeing nothing but bliss and stars, he thrusts needily, but gently, into your tight cunt.

"hmmph-hhahhh- so good f'me, pretty girl.." As he said that, he leans down to kiss you, tasting yourself on his lips. Swirling his tongue around yours, you moaned out with every thrust, slapping echoing in the room, sex engulfing every one of your senses.

He muttered quiet praises in your ear, licking your cheek as salty tears fell down them at how full he had stuffed you- his size was nothing to joke about.

"Hnghh- fuck-! Suguru, mmpph!" He kissed you to muffle your sounds, bound hands doing as much as they could to support you by gripping anything they managed to reach- being Suguru's hair again. Making him whine from the sudden pull, it only made his pace faster and more eager.

"Pretty- you gonna cum for me? Please- please cum on my cock- need it" You were rendered unable to form any coherent sentences as his tip kissed and caressed your insides, pleasuring the deepest parts of you. You couldn't stop yourself from tightening around him, hearing his warnings of his orgasm.

"Gonna cum- gonna cum- where-" You left him no other option as your legs tightened around his waist, feeling his seed warm your insides as long ropes spurted out inside you.

"S'good to me pretty, so good- haah- if you keep tightening around me, I'll get hard again"

"Again" His eyes widened as he processed your command.

You didn't have to worry about anything else when you were with him- work was nothing but a tiny disturbance when his dick was rutting into you so good you thought you'd pass out.

[gojo-mochi]

MDNI! Dark Themes. Dubcon/Yandere/Kidnapping/Drugging? (it catnip)

HybridKitty!Reader who was a stray but a happy stray roaming around the streets, catching fish from the river, and lazing around in the sun. But, suddenly, they get adopted (kidnap) by this strange man. He takes you in his house, forces a collar on you, telling you that it was much safer in his house than the outside world. You try to tell him that you been surviving just fine without him, that the outside was your home and you liked your freedom. He just coos at you and tries to ruffle your hair, treating you like a child.

You hiss and claw at his hand and while he winces back he doesn't hurt you back. Just looks at you sadly and tries again in a couple of hours. The days passes like this for a while, he leaves food outside of the small closet you took up space in. Feeling that it was safer in there, then the room and bed he made for you, you wouldn't eat it for a while at first. But the smell got too tantalizing, the stranger would handcook meals for you and they always smell so good.

Slowly but surely you were coming out of your skittish shell, hanging around the kitchen watching him cook once, but promptly leaving once he tried to pet you once again. However, after you finished your meal today, he asked you if you wanted dessert. This was the first time you heard this so you were curious enough to stay out of your hiding place to see what he had to offer.

He brings out a small bottle, sprinkling some leafy stuff on the palm of his hand and stretching it out to you. Telling you to take a sniff of it. The smell was nothing you ever smelt before, it was addicting to say the least. Even more once you actually got closer to his hand, though when your own hand stretch out to grab some of it, he pulled back, closing his palm into a fist and sealing away the treat.

Your ears flatten back on your head and a needy whine emerge from your throat, wondering why he would deny you the dessert if he was offering it in the first place. He waggles a finger at you, softly smiling, his eyes darken over just a bit. "If you want this treat, you gotta eat it from my hand, ok?" He reach out, palms open once more.

You shouldn't, you really shouldn't, all your heighten senses was telling you this was a bad idea but your sense of smell was overriding everything. The treat smelt too good to be left alone so you venture forward. Tentatively inching closer and closer, leaning your face down to take a good whiff of the treat and your mind was gone at that point.

Your rough textured tongue lap out at the treat, heavy purrs emits from your throat. As you kept on licking the treat out of the stranger's hand, not even noticing or caring that he was practically drooling at the sight, his thighs shaking a little, and his hand hovering over your head. Your small hands grabbed on to his wrist, pulling him closer as you try to get every single bit of the leafy treat, your tongue caressing the skin of this palm now.

He lets out a low moan at the feeling, putting his hand down on your head and finally touchy your cute fluffy ears, fingers rubbing the softness of it, making you purr out even more. You saw drunk people before back when you were a stray and you imagined this is what they must had felt like. On cloud nine and when the treat on his hand was emptied by your lips. The man stood up, hands traveling down your back and waist as he tells you that he'll give you more if you come sit on his lap and lick it off of him again.

How you could resist after just one taste? So, of course, you agreed, leaving behind the shelter of the closet and going into the bedroom. As the door clicks behind you, the last sense in your brain gave out a final warning to run. Too bad, because now the man was also addicted. Addicted to the feeling of your tongue on him and he wasn't about to let you go so easily.

After all, a good kitten gotta work for her treat~

[stormgardenscurse]

made for you - puppet au

Summary: In a steampunk-esque setting, your guardian-slash-mentor left you with one thing after their passing—a self-autonomous puppet that was designed to blend in with humans, who would protect and accompany you in your mentor’s absence.

Characters: Floyd, Ace, Cater, Lilia

Warnings: mentions of blood in Lilia's!

Floyd

Outsiders might complain about Floyd’s flippant change in moods, saying that you seemed to be the only person he doesn’t get annoyed with.

In two ways this judgment was flawed: they didn’t know he was a puppet (and so thought he was merely a scary traveling partner of yours), and he does get mad at you sometimes. Namely when you do things for others that he thinks are unnecessary, because why do you have to be the nice one and try to maintain relations with people you weren’t even close with? 

Floyd never got why you stress yourself out with things like that—and if you told him to help you with such tasks? Expect him to either turn to a game of cat and mouse (behind your back, he’s the cat and some other person is the mouse) or fulfill it with a dangerous gleam in his eyes when a stranger sees him, saying ‘don’t approach me, I’m really not in the mood’.

He rarely directs his frustration at you, though. Call it part of his design or whatever, but for the most part he’s more lax around you, slinging his arm over your shoulder or asking if you wanted to do (insert unhinged scheme) with a casual tone.

You worry about the people that he does get into fights with. Floyd doesn’t pay much attention to his inhuman strength and things can get awkward when people question it—leaving you to stand there, contemplating if you should reveal the truth.

But… while Floyd doesn’t really care for the distinction between being human and not (as long as you treat him as equals), he finds it fun when people think he’s just an unpredictable human. The looks on their faces and struggle when he tests their limits are always a sight to behold. 

Humans really are quite amusing—but of course, you’re his favorite one.

Ace

Ace has an inner conflict, one could say.

As charismatic as he can be (and by god was he a convincing actor), Ace would always, at the back of his mind, be conscious of the fact that he wasn’t human.

Nevermind the fact he’s probably more humane than some people out there, but he always has the feeling that it wasn’t enough. There’s a type of jealousy that crops up whenever he sees you interacting with people—he’s not sure if he’s jealous of the way you are, with your quirks and emotions that he idealizes despite how he claims otherwise, or if he’s jealous of the others around you.

He’d never fall sick or actually feel physical pain. He could be repaired so long as his core was salvageable, and so Ace could never be your friend in the way he might want to be. He wonders, sometimes, that in an alternate world—if he was human, would you look towards him the same way you do now? Would you still pick him within an ocean of so many, if he wasn’t a puppet crafted by your mentor?

Instead of expressing this, Ace of course directs these feelings into a personality that’s a little bratty. He’d challenge your requests at times, asking if it was an ‘order’ and only complying if you pushed back.

You’ll hear a lilt in his voice when he calls you ‘Master’ mockingly. For the most part Ace’s mean streak isn’t that bad though—he does show concern for you and is essentially a best friend that keeps you grounded. Sometimes you wonder if he actually liked being bossed around, thinking of it as a way to acknowledge the odd relationship you had. 

You don’t see him as a servant or object, but perhaps he finds some comfort in the idea that he was made for you. That way, your attachments to one-another was completely normal—you’d always pick him, right?

Cater

Cater is a puppet that lets you know his world revolves around you, if only to see the adorable expressions you make in response.

He doesn’t care for his own maintenance that much, nor about hurting himself in your defense or while doing tasks. Cater’s good at masking such things too, with long-sleeved or layered clothing to hide his mechanical injuries away. He says it’s unsightly and he’ll just fix it himself later, but you always recognise when he’s lying about how it’s ‘not that bad’. 

It makes an odd feeling ache in his chest whenever you do that, making him sit down in the privacy of your inn room so you could patch him up. There’s an unreadable look in his gaze at times like those, asking you if you saw him as someone that could actually get hurt. You said yes. Cater makes sure to remember that. 

He’s flirty most of the time, acting good-natured with others but obviously trying to charm you in particular. People tend to think you’re a couple because of that, and is it so bad if Cater kind of likes the sound of it?

He enjoys how genuine of a person you are—sure, everyone has their own thoughts and darker side that they keep to themselves, but he’s never detected falsehoods in your emotions towards him. Maybe it helps that you know he’s a puppet—why would you feel the need to guard yourself from him the same way as others? 

He likes this exclusivity he has to the different sides of you, especially since he’s a key link to your past. It’s also easier to focus his time and energy on someone else than the gloom that sometimes spreads in his system, which was surely just another mechanical flaw.

"I'm just supposed to make sure you're happy, Master~ So don’t worry about it!"

Lilia

No one would suspect that your cute companion would have a rather… uncompromising side, with it came to getting rid of nuisances that threatened your safety.

In his defense, he was kind of built to be a deadly weapon—the world is a dangerous place after all, and Lilia doesn’t mind being the one that protects you from those that may do you harm. Your mentor dabbled in areas that garnered them enemies, thus the association and knowledge you possessed was a dangerous light to greedy moths.

You never actually witness how he is in combat, though. Lilia always returns from his missions quietly, wiping the scratches and blood off of his synthetic skin. He greets you with a smile if you’re still awake at that point in the night, and you’re none-the-wiser about the expressions he can make when he gets serious on the field.

It’s night and day, the difference between how he is there versus how he is when mingling with people or with you. Lilia likes how you rely on him during your travels. He has a backlog of historical knowledge that he collected shortly after he was crafted, but nothing compares to actually being in different nations and seeing things with your own two eyes. 

He enjoys calling your name in a familiar tone and hearing you do the same. Lilia hopes to be a presence that reminds you of home, so it’s only natural that he cherishes the lighthearted and heart-to-heart conversations you have. 

Leave the bodyguard work to him; there’s a reason your mentor made a puppet for this purpose, after all. And honestly, Lilia’s quite happy with the way his life was right now. It was much richer than the endless clockwork of a workshop, and pretty things that did nothing compared to your warm words and sparkle in your eyes that was so undeniably human.

[certaimromance]

𝜗𝜚 A Lie Matter.

Spencer Reid x Prentiss!reader

Series masterlist | ONE | TWO | THREE |

Summary: All Spencer wanted was to have you back, but when it happens, it's the opposite of what he and you thought it would be.

Words: 3,6k.

TW: mentions of crime, trauma, death and pain (normal warnings in the series). so much spoilers for s6 and s7. the events narrated occur after emily's "death". so MUCH angst. read the dates carefully, especially the years, because there are some backward time frames that can confuse you if you don't pay attention!. english isn't my first language (sorry for my mistakes, be kind please).

Note: Okay, if I apologized for the first part, I have to get down on my knees for this one, because it is even more bitter (sorry Emily and Spencer, too).

I ask you to put yourselves in everyone's shoes and refrain from hateful comments. The process of writing this was emotionally challenging for me because I recognize that everyone has a valid point of view.

♡ Enjoy! ♡

December 5th, 2010

Your brow furrowed as you opened a new tab on your computer and watched it freeze for a few seconds. You were not very knowledgeable about technology and thought that perhaps a technical analyst could be of assistance. You were somewhat surprised when you suddenly felt a pair of warm arms around you from behind the sofa.

On the bright side, it wasn't all bad. At least not if you had him on your side.

“Hey.” You said, smiling slightly as you felt Spencer rest his head on your shoulder. “I thought you were reading.”

“Yeah, but you looked really focused and I wanted to know what you were doing.” He replied, carefully sitting down next to you on the couch, not wanting to invade your space. You looked at him with some amusement. “I'm just curious.”

He gazed at your computer screen, his heart aching a little as he noticed you were browsing a travel site, exploring different destinations and planning your budget. Had you decided to leave? He wondered why you hadn't told him sooner. Were you planning to leave him?

“Are you planning to leave?” He finally asked, after a few seconds of trying to decide whether to pursue the matter further. “Did something happen?”

The question he really wanted to ask, and feared to ask, was: Did I do something?

But no, Spencer wasn't going to self-destruct or assume things this time. He trusted you and he trusted that you would tell him if something was wrong because that was the kind of relationship the two of you had built.

“It's my mother's gift to me.” You replied quickly, as if to avoid the subject. “For my birthday.” You added as you noticed he looked confused.

“A trip?”

“Yes, when I was younger, I wanted to see the whole world and my mother promised that someday I would.” You began to explain, trying to avoid his gaze at first so as not to show too much vulnerability. Suddenly he took your hand in support. “Since I was fourteen, she's given me a trip every time...she doesn't know that I don't even have that dream anymore.”

“What is your dream now?” He asked with a genuine curiosity that made you feel small under his gaze.

You paused for a moment and smiled at him. “Is it too cheesy if I say it's you?”

“It's sweet.” Spencer couldn't help but blush a little and let out a laugh and then get a little more serious. “What's your dream?”

It was a new question, so you weren't quite sure how to answer. It was unusual because no one had ever asked you that before, or at least not with such a genuine interest in your answer.

“Other than you? I think just peace of mind. Maybe a family, a dog, and a nice house. The usual.” You rambled a bit, unsure. “To be honest, I've had the same dreams as my sister all my life. I've always copied them, even the FBI idea. But we already know that didn't work out so well for me.” You faked a laugh and pointed to your leg.

You expected him to laugh, the last thing you wanted was a look of pity or a deepening of your childhood problems. But you knew him well enough to know that he wasn't the kind of person to let things go, he literally couldn't forget them.

“Don't feel sorry for me, please.” You said as you noticed how his caresses on your arm were getting softer and softer.

“It's not that. I just don't like it when you treat yourself badly.” He explained calmly. “You were good at the FBI anyway. You're good at everything.”

You let out a bitter little laugh. “I was only 'good' because my sister taught me how to fight. And without being able to do that, I'm no good.” You pointed with a smile on your face, not wanting to worry him. “But it's okay, you have the brains.”

“And you're smart, funny, pretty, and-” He started listing your attributes at a surprising pace, which made you stop him with a kiss.

He is deeply moved when he experiences the sensation of your lips on his. Your kisses always leave him feeling profoundly cherished. They are characterized by a gentle, soft, warm, and tender quality that makes him feel like he is the most precious thing in the world to you. It is enough to send an intoxicating wave of emotions through him, filling every inch of his body with warmth.

“Thank you.” You gave him a smile when your lips parted.

“I had a lot more to say.” He said, still a little flushed. He then tucked a lock of hair behind your ear, as if he wanted to see you better. “I could go on for days.”

You just smiled at him like you were head over heels, feeling like you could say 'I love you' right then and there.

But you didn't. Unfortunately, you were too afraid to do it that time.

March 29th, 2011

“Aren't you planning to eat?” Your sister asked you for the third time, taking a big sip of her coffee and looking at the croissant you still had untouched on your plate.

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat and tried to cross your arms, but the wounds in your stomach still caused discomfort and you had to stifle a groan with a poor excuse. “I'm not hungry.”

Emily didn't say anything at first, just watched you, made you feel like just another criminal she was carefully profiling.

The two of you had been enjoying breakfast together at the table for several minutes without engaging in conversation. The dining room was peaceful, with only the sound of the clock on the wall to gently remind you that time was passing, whether you wanted it to or not.

And you really hoped the time would pass quickly so you could go home soon. But not fast enough for the people you loved to put you in the memory box that never opens.

“Can we have a normal conversation?” She asked, trying to break the awkward silence.

“I'm listening.” You finally make eye contact and stop looking out the window at the Eiffel Tower to look at her.

Then she gave that stern mother look, and you knew you were in trouble. “You have to eat. If you want, we can order something else.”

You didn't say anything, just looked at her tired face and sighed a little, feeling a twinge of guilt for not accepting her attempts to make the atmosphere more pleasant. You didn't know how to tell her that your frustration and pain went far beyond the physical, that it was something you felt in your heart and that no special food or doctor could fix. Everything was already taking its toll on you.

“I know this is tough, but please don't make it worse. I'm here for you.” She put her hand over yours and gave you a little squeeze, trying to show support. “We're in this together. You have me to lean on.”

You couldn't help but frown. Now she seemed so open with you, it was surprising to think of all the secrets she had kept from you before. There was literally a part of her life you didn't know about. She hid from you for years that she was on a covert mission, that she was babysitting someone else's child from afar, and that a terrorist was one of the ghosts that kept her on the defensive from everyone, including you. And none of that was the worst of it, because that place was occupied, because she didn't even seem to care how that affected you.

You had always been too much for everyone but Emily. She had always known how to carry your weight as if it were no obligation.

At least, that's the way it used to be.

“I know you miss Spencer. I do, too. But I promise you, he's fine.” She interrupted you when she noticed that your voice trailed off and your eyes glazed over, as if you were about to burst into tears just hearing his name. “He's safe.”

Mentioning him so suddenly was like walking through a minefield and hoping a bomb wouldn't go off.

“He thinks we're dead.” You said, feeling a chill run down your spine.

“And we both know why that is.”

“Yeah, but if...” You tried to start talking, but she quickly cut you off.

“Please don't start.” She abruptly put the cup she was holding in one hand down on the table and turned the other away from you. “We've been through this many times.”

Tick.

“But it's not fair.” You got up from your seat suddenly, feeling a couple of tears running down your cheeks and worry welling up in Emily. “It's going to be a month of this already.”

“We're not going back now. It's still dangerous for everyone.” She stood up behind you, trying to talk some sense into you. “We'll come back when it's time.”

Tock.

“And when will it be time? How much longer? You told me it would be a short time and now...” Your daily round of questions since you two had arrived there had begun once again.

“Please stop acting like a little girl.” Emily spoke up before she could think through her words.

Boom.

Oh, that was something your mother would say, not your sister. She would never judge you for being afraid and sentimental.

“Am I a little girl for wanting to know when we will have our lives back?” You asked after a few seconds to process her words. “I'm sorry, I don't have your mental strength to take it. I don't have a JJ to talk to and play online games with every time I drown in here. I don't have anyone but you, and I feel like you don't even trust me.”

The words had come out of your mouth without much thought, and you realized that they might have caused some distress when you saw her expression.

“I trust you, you're my little sister.” She came up to you slowly, trying to show you that what you said wasn't true. “I've known you since you were born. There's no one I trust and care about more.”

“And where was that confidence when you needed help?” The question came out of you automatically before you went to your room.

As soon as you laid your face on the pillow, you thought about how much you needed the people who were away at that moment, especially the one who was your voice of reason. You felt a certain longing for their presence.

September 21st, 2011

Spencer was frozen in place because you weren't there.

There was no trace of your presence in the room, and his heart threatened to burst with pain. His eyes were tired of desperately searching for you, and his mouth was tired of holding back questions about your whereabouts because the answer frightened him.

“I'm really sorry, but I've wanted to tell everyone the truth for a long time.” Emily said after several unexpected hugs and reunions. It was only then that her gaze fell on him. “Reid.”

“She is...?” His voice was cut off before he could finish his sentence. The mere possibility that his mind had been playing tricks on him all this time tore him apart.

“Alive.”

In that moment, all other concerns in his life receded into the background, including the intense discomfort in his hand. His world had once again come crashing down, and the pain he was experiencing seemed to lose its meaning in the midst of it all.

His heart seemed to start beating again after seven months of complete inactivity just by hearing that word. The few tears he had left moistened his eyes, momentarily blurring his vision and preventing him from seeing how everyone around him looked at him. Just one word kept going through his mind.

Alive. Alive. Alive.

You have been alive all this time.

“Where is she?” He asked instantly, anxious. He took another quick look around the room, but you weren't there. “Why isn't she here?”

Just from the apologetic look Emily gave him before she spoke, he knew something was wrong. “I haven't heard from her in almost two months.”

The sentence lingered in the air for a few seconds before it was processed. It was difficult to imagine that you would stay away from your sister for so long. That didn't seem like you.

“Why?” Penelope was so intrigued that she couldn't help but ask the question before anyone else in the room had a chance to. “Is she okay?”

The woman was clearly uneasy under the intense scrutiny of her colleagues, who kept glancing at her as if she were a ghost. “We had a disagreement, and she left. All I know is that she's here somewhere in the city trying to protect all of you.”

As it turned out, Spencer wasn't crazy. He really did see you on the street. It really was you all this time.

“I know this is a bad time, but I was hoping you could help me find her because I really don't know...” Emily tried to speak again, her voice cracking.

At that moment, JJ gently put a hand on her shoulder and approached the group, having spent several minutes in contemplative silence. “We've located her.” She noted respectfully, giving Reid a look that conveyed guilt and regret for what was happening. “And she is here.”

All eyes were riveted to the door of the room at that moment, waiting for you to be there to resolve some doubts and heal other pains. The hearts seemed to explode with the expectation of a new confrontation, of you being part of the miracle.

Because it was a miracle that you and Emily were alive, right?

“Hello.” Your voice echoed in the room and made everything fade away.

The mere sound of your voice, after months of hearing it only through old videos and voice memos, had Spencer leaning on the table with one hand and the other on his heart, trying to keep it from falling out of his chest.

God, you were there. Really there.

It was you again. Unmistakably you.

April 10th, 2011

“Hello?”

The telephone, which had been in your possession, suddenly became detached from your grasp and hung precariously close to the ground. You were overcome with a sudden rush of emotion, your body trembled, your breathing ceased, and your eyes brimmed with tears as you heard your boyfriend's voice.

“Hello? Who is this?” You listened as Spencer repeated when you had the strength to pick up the phone again and put it to your ear. “Hello?”

It's me, I love you, I'm sorry.

That's all you had to tell him, because it was the truth, even though he might not like it and it might ruin his day to find out about your charade. He had a right to know. Especially since he was the best thing in your life and you were the worst thing, causing him so much pain. You shouldn't have to be a psychic to know that he was suffering.

All those candid conversations you had with him about the challenges of losing loved ones were truly impactful. In a way, you were now one of the people he'd lost.

“What are you doing? Who are you talking to?” Emily's voice startled you, so you quickly hung up the phone, trying not to look suspicious. But she knew you too well to deceive her. “Please tell me you didn't do what I think you did.”

You didn't say a word, and that was enough.

“Please.”

“I was just thinking about what if. I didn't do anything, I didn't call anyone.” You raised your hands in innocence and walked away from the phone calmly because you knew you had already hung up. “I'm not a fool.”

That's nonsense. You were a fool for love and always have been.

Perhaps you loved too much, or perhaps you didn't love at all and just enjoyed the feeling of being loved. Your negative thoughts were causing you to doubt the reality of your experiences with Spencer. He seemed too good to be true, and you sought reassurance in his voice to confirm that you weren't losing touch with reality. The idea of trying to explain this to your sister made you feel self-conscious and a bit foolish.

“Okay.” She said in a calm tone, even though he didn't believe a word of it. She took you by the arm gently and spoke again. “I've found a store you'll like.”

You simply nodded and followed her because you felt it was important to avoid making it all about you.

September 21st, 2011

The person you had been waiting months to see had left the room upon seeing you, as if you were some kind of plague threatening to kill him. You felt a sense of loss, as if your heart had died in that instant, while you received the deep embrace of your older sister and the occasional dismayed look from the people who used to know you.

“You should go talk to him.” Emily said, her voice conveying concern and empathy, which caught you off guard. Her hand was still on your lower back, and it felt comforting.

You were at a loss for words, so you simply nodded and left the room to find him.

It was quite remarkable how you were able to locate his troubled figure so quickly after stepping out into the hallway. It seemed as if your intuition had guided you directly to where he was. You felt a pang of guilt as you noticed Spencer standing in front of the large wall with pictures of those killed in action, looking specifically at the lower portion where your picture was next to Emily's. It seemed somewhat incongruous that you were there, given that you no longer officially worked for the FBI and your death hadn't been in the field. However, you assumed someone had pulled strings to put you next to your sister.

“Spencer.” His name came out of your mouth slowly and painfully after you had avoided saying it for seven months. Your arms wrapped around him before you had a chance to think about what you were doing. You just wanted to feel him close and be reassured that he was real. “I'm sorry, I'm so sorry.”

He remained silent and still, seemingly unaware of your presence, as you clung to his body like a life preserver in the midst of a storm.

God, you needed him so much.

Just when you thought maybe he hadn't heard you because he hadn't even flinched at your voice, he turned away from you and spoke. “I've been looking at these pictures every day for seven months now, every time I pass by or get a chance to come by. I'm trying to convince myself that you were dead, really dead, and that I'm not freaking out already.” His tone was as cold and sharp as a knife edge. “And now you're here.”

As soon as you became aware of the absence of its presence, you felt a bit disoriented. You took a few seconds to regain your composure before you looked at your picture with a hint of disappointment and considered removing it from the wall, but you realized it was firmly attached and it might not be the most constructive approach. Removing it wouldn't address the underlying issue.

“I'm sorry, it wasn't my...just try to understand me.” You could only stammer at that moment, unable to excuse yourself.

“I can't do it. I understand Emily's motives a little better. She wanted to protect you, us, and herself. But you...” He paused, as if the words weighed so heavily that he needed to take a breath before saying them. “You knew when I was afraid of going really crazy, and yet you let me think I was losing my mind.”

His words had a profound impact, evoking a growing sense of emotional distress. You felt a deep sense of regret for causing pain to someone who had done nothing to deserve it.

“I know I hurt you, but I didn't mean to. I swear.” You spoke to him with a trembling voice, trying to control your need to walk up to him and take his hand in the same loving way as before. “I know you suffered, I did too, and I thought of you every day I was gone.”

He let out a short, frustrated sound and paced the room a few times before meeting your eyes again. You didn't need to take into account what the FBI had taught you about human behavior, because he went way beyond that and none of it was likely to help you now. You had gotten to know Spencer very well and had never seen him as upset as he was now. No manual could help you know what to do.

“I bet you thought about me and felt bad, right? But you know what the difference between us is?” His tone was harsh, but his gaze seemed so fragile it hurt you. “You woke up every day to an empty bed, and I woke up next to a grave. It could never be the same.”

Your lips were sealed because you knew he was absolutely right and nothing you could say would change that.

“Please, Spencer, wait.” You followed him down the hallway before he could leave and saw him stop to look at you doubtfully. You never before imagined that the one who used to watch you with such expectation and love was going to watch you as if you were a phony. “I love you.”

He frowned and lifted his shoulders. “It's too late for that.”

It is possible that it was.

[deakyjoe]

Stormy Skies

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (no pronouns used I think)

Category: friends to lovers

Summary: Din breaks you out of an Imperial prison (loosely based on chapter 15).

Warnings: angst, fluff, touched-starved Din, helmet is off, prison, nasty guards, restraints, bad men, talks of death, separation, loose implication of what bad men can do, pet names (cyar’ika), canon-divergence (I guess??), when I say loosely based I mean very loosely based

Word count: 5.5k

A/N: Sad, brown-eyed, pathetic love of my life. (He's not pathetic but I’ll make him pathetic.) Din is slightly out of character but only because he's head over heels in love and feeling all soft and squishy inside about it. He's also a little insecure. Poor guy. It's purposefully ambiguous about how long reader has been imprisoned, so guess however long you'd like.

Consider buying me a coffee :)

It took three weeks, four days, sixteen hours and twenty two minutes before you realised that the inside of this Imperial prison would be the only thing you saw for the foreseeable future. The three walls and one row of bars now being your home. After that you resigned yourself to the idea that you'd be there forever so you stopped counting the days, the weeks, the... months? You didn't know how long you'd been there and you didn't want to know how long either.

All you knew is that you wanted to leave. Not because you were scared of death or scared of never seeing the outside world again. But because you missed two very important people in your life. The big, scary Mandalorian who had hired you just under a year ago as his mechanic and his strange green son who had weird superpowers who you sometimes babysat. The both of them meant the world to you and the idea of never seeing them again hurt you. You feared for the child's life as he had also been taken at the same time as you but had been imprisoned elsewhere, probably to be experimented on. And you feared for the state of your Mandalorian who would be lost without his kid.

"Food."

The announcement made your stomach lurch as it knocked you out of your thoughts. A small plate, with a pile of something in the middle, was pushed into your cell - probably the most unappealing thing in the galaxy but your only source of nutrition. Your mind strayed to nicer things as you desperately tried to ignore the revolting taste.

You thought of days spent in the Razor Crest, your Mandalorian's ship, as the three of you travelled from planet to planet in order for bounties to be collected. The memories of attempting to teach the child to speak some words in Basic but only getting baby babbling in response, it didn't matter as his eyes always shone as if he knew what you were saying to him.

You ached for your clan of three to be reunited, but realistically you knew that was unlikely. If anything, you just wanted Grogu to be safe. Back with Din and safe. And there was no place safer for him than under the care of Din Djarin.

A guard walking into your cell had you scrambling back against the wall as he took your plate from you and laughed, slightly muffled by his helmet. He kicked at the chain bound around your feet and walked out again, locking the bars behind him.

He was your least favourite of everyone who served in your section of the prison. He didn't seem to like you very much, and wasn't afraid to show it. You feared that one day he'd use the power he had over you to do something awful. So, for now, you tried to play as nice as possible with him.

The sound of low chattering caught your attention, the unmistakable noise of Stormtrooper armour bashing against itself making its way down the corridor. Plastic against plastic made an unbearable racket. You looked up to peek through the bars of your cell and crawled towards the sound, hoping that they weren't coming for you. If you could guess from the sound of them alone, you'd say there were about three or four of them. Definitely more than two and probably less than five.

Your assumption was proven correct when three Troopers turned the corner at the end of the hallway. One was clearly in charge, leading the other two. You thought his name was... you didn't know actually. And you didn't care either. But he was their superior. But the other two... They were low ranking officers, obvious by their uniform and the way they looked around as if they'd never seen the inside of a prison before. Maybe it was their first day on the job? Boy, were they in for a surprise.

The bald one seemed vaguely familiar, although he looked like pretty much any other guy in the galaxy so you didn't dwell on it too much. The other one, however, held no resemblance to anyone you'd ever seen before. He had sad eyes.  That was the first thing you noticed about him. Sad, brown eyes. Along with a strong nose that matched his face. Golden skin. And messy hair along with unkempt facial hair. Very un-Trooperish. You wondered how he managed to get away with it. He was rather beautiful to look at. You pushed the thought away with a reminder of what he was - Empire.

As they got closer, you began to overhear their conversation. They were talking about some battle that had been fought a while ago, lots of soldiers lost. Baldy appeared mildly upset as he disclosed that some of his friends had died. Brown eyes wasn't listening and clearly searching for something. And he seemed to find it when his eyes landed on you.

He paused for the smallest fraction of a second before he carried on walking with the other two. He stared at you but you didn't back down, staring right back through the cell bars. You wouldn't let a Trooper intimidate you, especially not a new one. A sense of achievement hit you when he finally looked away, swallowing thickly and averting his gaze as far away from you as possible. He nudged the bald guy next to him with his elbow and tilted his head in your direction.

What the fuck did these guys want with you? You shivered at the thought, a million horrifying ideas running through your brain. You relaxed slightly when they disappeared around the next corner.

The rest of the day passed slowly, as they all did, and soon enough the lights were going out and all prisoners were warned to stay silent for the next few hours. You shifted to get your body in the most comfortable position possible, pretty difficult when you had chains restraining your limbs, and laid down, resting your head in the crook of your elbow.

You drifted off easily, the low drone of the power running through the walls and the floor lulling you to sleep. With nothing to do all day, zero access to natural light and limited portions of food you were tired all of the time. And the little energy you had was reserved for keeping your defences up when guards entered your cell on rare occasions.

Your dreams were full of Din and Grogu, as usual, and you often wondered during your conscious moments whether your brain was reminding you of happy moments to keep you sane or telling you what you'd had and what you'd lost as a way of punishing you.

What you didn't expect was to be awoken a short time later by your cell door being unlocked, the clanging of the metal shocking you out of your dreams. You sat up instantly, freezing when two looming figures walked in, whispering to each other in hushed tones.

The two Troopers from earlier.

You felt sick.

They were both wearing their helmets now and their heads snapped towards you when your chain scraped across the floor painfully. The broader one, who seemed to be leading the team of two, stalked towards you slowly.

"No, no, no, no!" You kicked at him as he went for your ankles trying, and failing, to fight him off. The breath spilling from your lungs was panicked as you failed to notice the other guy groaning and sticking his arms out to tell you to be quiet.

Your name came through the Trooper helmet in a familiar, reassuring voice. It was Din. Your Mandalorian. You'd never felt such a sense of relief race through your body as you relaxed underneath his touch.

"Mando?" You avoided using his real name around other people, as you'd agreed when he first told you. It was a small price for such a wonderful gift. His name. "You're here. You came for me?"

"Yes." He fumbled with your restraints, managing to get the ones off your ankles and moving to the ones on your wrists.

You looked at the other guy who had slipped his helmet off at some point. The bald guy. "Hang on. I saw you earlier. You walked through here with that guy in charge and-" Your eyes snapped back to Din. "That was you."

He was looking at you through the helmet, you could tell. "Come on, we don't have much time."

"B-but... you... your face." Your voice was weak, mind scrambling back to the memory of him. Brown eyes. Sad eyes. Messy hair. Unkempt facial hair. Strong nose. Golden skin. Beautiful.

He faltered. "I know. I did what had to be done."

"You broke your creed." You were almost crying. "To save me."

Hesitation. "Yes, of course. Come on."

The shackles finally fell from your wrists and you launched yourself at him, embracing him even if you were in a life or death situation.

"Thank you."

He seemed uncertain at the gesture as his arms slowly wrapped around your waist. "You don't have to thank me."

You pulled away quickly, not wanting to push it and make him uncomfortable. "Yes, I do." Looking back at the bald guy as you stood up, you squinted at him. "You're familiar."

"Mayfeld." He had a smirk on his face as he watched the interaction between you and Din, sticking out his hand in greeting but you ignored it. "You're welcome for this, by the way. I'm the main reason we're here right now saving you."

His name reminded you of who he was, a scowl settling over your face. "I appreciate it. But we're not out yet. They have people guarding everywhere. And I mean everywhere."

"It won't be a problem." Din's voice was low as he straightened up.

"How do you know so much about this place, hm?" Mayfeld asked you, stepping slightly closer.

"I may have attempted an escape... once or twice." You shrugged and kicked your restraints away from your feet. "That's why I was chained to the wall."

The two men were silent as they stared at you, Mayfeld looking surprised and Din's gaze burning into you despite being obscured by the helmet.

"I know their rotation schedules, how long of a gap there is between shift changes and which Troopers like me best so will leave the handcuffs a little looser." You looked between the two of them. "What? I had time to plan."

"And what have we got now?" Din questioned, glancing back at the open bars. "Anything scheduled to happen?"

You thought it over for a moment, glancing at the clock just outside of your cell. "Shift change in about six minutes. There will be a thirty-three second gap where the doors are unmanned."

"We can work with that." The Mandalorian replied, producing a pair of handcuffs from his back pocket.

A sick feeling settled in your stomach at the sight of them. "Ah, so I'm fake prisoner. Right?"

"In case we come across anyone." Mayfeld explained, a smug grin on his face. "Need to make it believable that we're moving you to a new cell."

With a nod, you looked back up to Din. "Be gentle, okay?"

"Of course, cyar'ika."

You sighed, storing away the nickname to ask about it later. "Where's Grogu?"

His fists clenched by his sides, the leather of his gloves squeaking. "They still have him."

Bile rose in your throat. "What?"

Why was he here if the child was still missing?

"Maker, why are you here?" You asked him, pushing at his shoulder. "You need to save him!"

"I'm here to save you." He was already bored with you again, you could tell by the lack of emotion in his voice. Maybe he was regretting saving you.

"I could have waited! Grogu's a baby!" You cried, worry settling in your stomach at the thought of your poor, poor Grogu possibly being tortured and experimented on whilst you were swooning over Din rescuing you.

"They had information on the kid's location here as well." The Mandalorian offered.

That made more sense. "Ah, so it wasn't just to save me."

"I would've come for you even if they had nothing on him." He sounded annoyed now, frustrated at your questioning.

"Grogu's priority." You turned to Mayfeld. "Why did you let him come here when the child is still missing?"

His hands raised in surrender. "Hey! Don't turn this on me!"

"Be more grateful." Din stated as he walked towards you and turned you around, pulling your hands behind your back to secure them in place with the cuffs. "I could have left you here forever."

You didn't want to admit out loud that what he had just suggested was your worst fear and something you truly believed until he'd showed up. A part of you thought you'd be there for the rest of your life. But you couldn't tell him that. So you offered a weak joke.

"You know what they say... third time's the charm. I'm sure my next attempt at an escape would have worked." The cuffs clicked into place and you tried not to focus on the feeling of being restrained again. You'd spent too long like this, and here you were about to escape and you were back in the same position. It was almost funny.

Din could sense your unease and placed a gloved hand on the small of your back in reassurance.

"Let's go." Mayfeld chimed and marched out of the cell in front of the two of you.

You swallowed the lump in your throat and followed behind, Din's hands locked around yours to make sure the restraints didn't pull too harshly. Weaving in and out of corridors was dangerous, especially with the guards constantly patrolling. Unfortunately, it didn't take long before you bumped into a couple of them.

"Halt!" They shouted, raising their weapons to the three of you. "What are you doing with prisoner five six one?"

There was probably too long of a pause between the question and the answer that was finally given, setting off the initial seed of suspicion.

Mayfeld stepped in with his sly smile. "We were instructed to move the prisoner to a new cell."

The two guards bowed their heads together, mumbling a quick debate. Your hands twitched with nerves behind your back and you felt the Mandalorian trace a thumb over them in comfort. It somewhat worked.

"We'll need you to come with us to confirm." One of them said, straightening up and re-aiming his blaster right at you.

"I'm sorry, cyar'ika." Din grumbled with a sigh behind you before there was a slight squeeze on the side of your neck and you were out.

When you awoke you were surrounded by the sounds of a humming engine and the whirring of the inside of a ship. You jolted up and almost hit your head on the top of the bunk you'd been placed in.

Wait. A bunk?

You looked around you rapidly to suddenly realise that you weren’t just in any bed. You were in Din’s bed. On the Razor Crest.

You jumped out of it and stumbled once you landed on your feet, leaning on the wall for support.

“Woah, woah! Slow down, take it easy.” A modulated voice appeared behind you as strong arms wrapped around your torso to keep you steady.

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” You slurred, still slightly groggy from being unconscious. “How long was I out?”

“A few hours.” Din replied, letting you turn to look at him. He was back in his Beskar armour, looking as shiny as ever. The sight of him made you smile.

“You knocked me out!” You cried but there wasn’t an ounce of real anguish in your voice. In fact, it was rather playful.

He didn’t seem to pick up on that. “It was necessary.”

You waved your hand at him, showing you weren’t really bothered by that. So you approached the subject you were really affected by. “You saved me.”

“Yes.” His voice was a gentle rasp as he spoke the singular word. He was never much of a talker. But you hung on to every word.

“Why?”

“What do you mean why?”

“You removed your helmet to save me.” You frowned at him, like you were annoyed at him for breaking his creed.

Another rasp. “Yes.”

“But-“

“But what?”

You laughed like it was obvious. "I don't understand why. I'm just me."

"And it's just a creed."

Your head reared back. "Just a creed?"

"Just you?" He answered back, imitating your tone and inflection.

"That's- Din, it's your life. Being a Mandalorian is everything to you.” You cried, hands waving in emphasis. “Why would you risk that? For me?"

His head tilted to the side in his usual expression of emotion. Or lack of. "This is the Way."

"No.” You snapped. “The Way is not showing your face under any circumstances. And you- you showed your face!"

"To save you."

"Yes!"

The helmet tilted even further. "What part do you not understand?"

"I'm not worth it." You said, hands wringing together in front of you. And you truly believed what you were saying.

"What?"

"Why would you do that for me?"

"I'd do anything for you."

Your mouth snapped shut, the protest you had prepared dying in your throat.

"You and the kid. I'd tear apart this galaxy for the both of you. You're... you're part of my clan."

A part of you wished he'd left you in that prison. If he'd done that then your head wouldn't be spinning and you wouldn't be overwhelmed with emotions at what he was throwing at you in that moment. His clan. You were a member of his clan.

"Din..."

His name was soft from your lips and he sighed slowly at the sound.

"The only way to explain is-" He cut himself off and inhaled, taking a step closer to you. Placing his hand under your chin, he tilted your head up to face him and lowered his helmet so your foreheads rested together. The cold of his armour sent shivers down your spine. Although it might have also been caused by the action of what he was doing, what he was saying.

Din had explained this to you before when you'd asked about affection between the people of Mandalore. It was a way for Mandalorians to kiss without having to show their faces. It was... intimate, to say the least.

Your eyes fluttered shut when the reality of what he was telling you dawned. "Din..."

Another soft whisper of his name had him sighing again.

Unfortunately, he took it the wrong way and pulled back. "You don't have to- The kid and you are important to me. That's... that's what you need to know. About why- why I did this."

You shook your head and smiled at him, hooking your hand around the back of his neck and tugging him down towards you again so your foreheads touched. "And I was willing to die in that prison to keep you and the child safe."

"They... they were planning to kill you?"

"I kept refusing to teach them how to get the kid to use his wizard baby powers. And I wouldn't tell them where you were either. Or how to contact you."

"What did they need me for?"

"See you as a threat. Or to use me as bait. I'm not sure which. Maybe both."

"It would've worked. You as bait. If I didn't already know where you were, of course."

"Of course." You grinned at him and hoped he was smiling back. You tended to guess what his facial expressions were, normally hoping that he was returning whatever you gave him but usually settling on the fact that he was probably bored and his face would show it. "I missed you."

"I missed you too, cyar'ika."

Your stomach flipped at the Mando'a. "What does that mean?"

"It's Mando'a."

"I guessed that. I'm asking for a translation." You rolled your eyes, finally pulling back from the Mandalorian kiss to look at him properly again. "I hope it's something nice."

You could tell he was smiling when he said his next words. They were hesitant, but tender. "It means darling or sweetheart. A term of endearment."

"Oh... that's- that is nice." Mentally berating yourself, you bit on your lower lip to hold back an excited giggle. Nice? There were so many words that were better than nice. "I don't have anything like that where I'm from. If I did I'd-"

He cut you off with a hand cupping your cheek. "I know, cyar'ika. I know."

There was a moment of silence as the two of you just looked at each other. It was broken when Din sighed suddenly and dropped his hand from your cheek.

"I never wanted you to see my face that way."

Oh.

"Din, I-" You cut yourself off to contemplate your words. "I'm sorry that you had to reveal your face. And that I saw. If I'd known... I wouldn't have stared at you."

"No, I didn't mean it like that." He exhaled loudly. "Do you remember? What I look like?"

The memory of his face flashed in your mind. Of course you remembered. Every single detail. And you'd probably secretly treasure it for the rest of your life.

"Yes..."

His head dropped for a second, helmet aimed at the floor, before it suddenly shot back up to meet your gaze. "And?"

"And what?" Having no idea what he was asking of you, your brows scrunched together.

He was so close now that you were sure you'd be able to hear his breathing even without the modulator. "Was I- was I a disappointment?"

"What?" Disbelief ran through you. How could this wonderful, gorgeous man ever be a disappointment? With or without the helmet obscuring his face he had always been and would always be perfect to you.

"Well, you must have had some... some image of what I'd look like in your head."

You immediately disagreed with him. "No, never."

"Don't lie. It's okay. You can tell me."

"I'm not lying. And I am telling you."

"Cyar'ika..."

Your heart did somersaults in your chest. "No, I never conjured up some fantasy of what you'd look like. Because this here-" You gestured at the whole of him, hand waving up and down his body. "-is my Din. This is you to me. Why would I ever warp who you truly are for some made up version?"

"You must've been curious."

You shrugged. "Maybe at the beginning. But who you are on the inside is all that has ever mattered to me."

"So what did you think when you saw my face?"

Your eyes snapped away from his on instinct, embarrassment crawling through you as you recalled your immediate thoughts of him. Thoughts you'd pushed away at the time because you thought he was a Trooper. Thoughts that had resurfaced when you found out that it was really him.

"Oh, no thoughts." Your voice was weak, barely coming out as more than a squeak. It was clear you were lying. "Just that you were a man..."

"Cyar'ika..."

A flush racked through you at the use of the term of endearment. He knew how to make you weak in the knees, how to make you break, you were sure of it.

"Calling me that isn't fair."

"Don't avoid the question." His head tilted to the side. "Tell me. What did you think?"

Unsure at how he'd turned from insecure, sweet Din to a version of Din that had you swooning, you shook your head at him. "I told you. No thoughts."

"And I can tell you're lying. Look at me." He placed his fingers under your chin to angle you to face him. "Tell me."

You started with a small truth. "Your eyes were sadder than I thought they'd be."

He seemed slightly taken aback by that but didn't hesitate too much in answering. "I was scared I'd lost you."

"But I thought you said you didn't know they were planning on killing me?"

"It was always a possibility." He shrugged. "We were getting towards the end of the cells when I saw you. I was... getting nervous. Thought maybe they'd transferred you somewhere else and I'd never find you. Couldn't live with that idea."

If it were possible, you softened even more under his touch. "But you did find me. And I'm here. Safe. Because of you."

"Hmm." He just hummed in agreement, shifting his hand so it moved to cup your jaw instead. "What else?"

You huffed, hoping you'd got out of the line of questioning about your opinions on his appearance. Whilst having openly admitted a whole spout of feelings for each other, you weren't quite ready to declare how absolutely breathtaking he was.

"Don't make me say it."

"Say what, cyar'ika? Hm? I'm just asking."

You leaned into his touch, the warmth from his palm along with the sound of the Mando'a pet name set off a spark within you. When his gloved thumb swooped over your cheek gently you were sure that your brain short circuited.

"You're beautiful, Din."

The statement was breathless but held certainty in it. The Mandalorian didn't reply, too shocked by your confession. He honestly hadn't been expecting you to be so open. And to say that of all things.

So you kept going. "It was never going to matter to me what you looked like underneath the Beskar. Because who you are as a person is the only important thing. But I have to admit that I thought you were gorgeous when you walked past my cell. And then I immediately felt guilty because I thought you were a Trooper." Your head dipped in shame for a moment. "You are beautiful, Din Djarin. Inside and out."

He still said nothing, hands just lifting to the bottom of his helmet.

When you heard the hiss of the seal, your hands slapped across your eyes. "Ah! What are you doing?"

"Taking off my helmet. What are you doing?" He sounded amused.

"Covering my eyes so I don't see obviously." You scoffed and scrunched your eyes beneath your palms.

"Cyar'ika, you've already seen my face."

"So? I might have remembered details wrong."

"Thought you said I was beautiful?"

You huffed, not liking how he was turning that against you. "I did but revealing your identity is a big no-no, Din! That's what the Way says, right?"

"Right." He was holding back laughter.

"Exactly! Doesn't matter if I've seen you before. Might not remember you completely correctly." You remembered him completely correctly. "So we cannot risk you revealing yourself a whole other time."

The way you were so respectful of his creed, no matter how ridiculous you were being at that moment with your hands pressed tightly over your eyes, had Din tingling inside.

"I don't think it's a risk if you've seen me before and you're a part of my clan, hm?"

You grumbled something underneath your breath. "I can't argue with you on Mandalorian culture because you're the expert. But I feel as if you're finding loopholes here."

"Perhaps. Just look."

The sound of his helmet hissing and the dull clang of it hitting the floor had you hesitating before slowly peeling your hands away from your face.

He was exactly how you remembered.

Every line, every scar, every eyelash, every inch of skin, the deep brown of his eyes, the angle of his nose, the unruly tufts of curls atop his head and the uneven patches of facial hair peppered across his jaw and down his neck. This was your Din Djarin. Stood in front of you, everything exposed and exactly how you remembered him. Exactly how you wanted him. Perfect. The whole of him was perfect.

With a stifled sigh of relief, you reached out your hands to cup his face, hesitating for a moment when you realised he might hate that. "Can I?"

He nodded, his eyes looking sad yet hopeful - an improvement from the last time you saw them.

Your palms settled on his cheeks, thumbs swiping over his cheeks and across his bristly stubble. A smile broke across your face when his eyelids closed and he leaned in your touch.

"Oh, Din..." Tears sprang to your eyes yet you couldn't exactly explain why, the flood of emotions was overwhelming.

"Cyar'ika..." He breathed against the skin of your wrist, turning slightly in your grasp to plant his lips against your palm.

You took a step closer to him, encouraging him to duck down and rest his forehead against yours. A Mandalorian kiss, stripped of the barrier between the two of you. He let out a shaky sigh as you made contact, his hair tickling your brow.

"When was the last time someone touched you? Skin on skin?" You needed to know, he was acting like he'd never felt the warmth of physical contact before.

He hummed lowly in his chest as he thought about it, eyes shut tight in contemplation. "My parents, I think."

Your heart ached for him. It had been decades. You wanted more, to give him more, but worried that it might be too much too fast. But you yearned to touch him, to show him how good it could be.

Broken out of your thoughts by a rustling noise between the two of you, you glanced down without breaking away from him to see that he was removing his leather gloves and throwing them to the floor beside you.

You stared at his hands, scars littering both the palms and the backs. You'd never wanted someone to touch you with their hands more.

Din appeared to have the same thought as he hovered them over your sides, fists clenching open and closed. "Can I?"

"Can you what, hm?" You wanted- no needed him to say it, to be as clear as possible between you.

"Touch you. Can I touch you please?" His eyes were still closed but you could see he was restless behind his lids, almost worried even.

"Of course you can."

You expected him to just place his hands on your hips or waist, which he did technically. What you didn't expect was for him to slide his hands underneath the hem of your shirt and place them directly onto your skin, squeezing slightly when he made contact.

You hummed contently in acknowledgement to tell him that it was okay and stepped closer to him, your chest pressing up against the Beskar now.

“Can I kiss you?” The question was sudden, hushed, almost unsure.

You didn’t hesitate in tilting your head upwards and reassuring him of how much you wanted exactly that. “I’m so glad you asked.”

Then his lips were on yours, a relieved sigh exiting him and a content one leaving you.

You moved together in time, like you knew how the other worked and what they wanted. And maybe you did. Maybe you knew each so well, or knew that the other wanted the same thing you did. Din’s thumbs stroked gently at the skin of your waist and yours swiped over his cheeks, brushing away a stray tear that had fallen from his eyes. His sad, brown eyes. You hoped they’d be less sad in the future.

He broke away for a moment to mumble against your lips. "I was so scared I'd lost you."

You shook your head and kissed him again. "I thought I'd never see you again."

“I wouldn’t have left you there.” He promised, hands gripping you impossibly tighter. “There isn’t a single thing I wouldn’t have done to get you back.”

You just nodded at him, believing every word he was saying, and pulled him closer to kiss you again. The way his lips melded against yours and the way your tongues curled together had you convinced that this was meant to be. It was so utterly perfect that it felt as if the stars had written it centuries ago, always destined to happen.

“Cyar’ika…” He hummed to you when you both broke away again for some air.

As much as you wanted this moment to last forever, a thought suddenly re-entered your mind. “Grogu!”

“It’s okay. We know where he is and we’re on our way to get him back.” He smiled at your concern for the child, understanding it completely. He felt the same after all.

You nodded gently, relieved that the child would be back and safe soon enough. Then things really would be back to how they should be again. The three of you - you, your Mandalorian and your green child. Perfect.

A/N: this has been under works for agessss… hope you enjoyed!

[feelingf1]

treat you right - charles leclerc

pairing: charles leclerc x gasly!girlfriend reader

summary: you go out clubbing one night with Pierre, that’s until he leaves you at the bar to go talk with his ex. Luckily there’s someone at the other side of the bar waiting for you

warnings: badly written NSFW. going down on eachother, p in v, all that jazz

authors note: this is my first time writing smut, so it probably sucks. sorry ‘bout that

enjoy :)

—————

The Monaco air was warm and heavy as you headed into the club. Your arm was linked with your boyfriend’s, Pierre. You two were going out to celebrate Pierre’s first podium since joining Alpine. You headed down to the tables, where you had margarita after margarita. You two were chatting the whole night, and you had never really felt happier.

But that was about to change dramatically.

You noticed Pierre’s eyes focus on somebody behind you, as his conversation started to become more distant. You stroked his hand. “Hey, you okay?”

Pierre nodded, “Yeah, yeah. I’ve just spotted Charles and Lando over there. Do you mind if I go and talk to them for a few minutes?”

Even though you were enjoying your private little night, you liked both Charles and Lando, and you knew how close Pierre was to the two of them.

“Yeah, go on. I’ll get us more drinks.” You smiled sweetly and got up from your table. He planted a kiss on your cheek. “Thanks, you’re the best.”

You headed over to the bar and sat up on the stool for a minute, waiting until the bar calmed down a bit before you ordered more drinks. You pulled out your phone and tuned out the world for a few minutes.

The bar finally calmed down, and you ordered your drinks and headed back down to the table. You started sipping on your margarita, until someone slid into the table, across from you.

“Hi, Pier-” You looked up from your phone to find out it wasn’t Pierre, but it was Charles that slid into the seat.

“Hey, Y/N, you look amazing tonight.” He said, whilst casually trying to check you out. “Thanks, you’re not so bad yourself.”

“So, when did you break up with Pierre?”

You nearly gave yourself whiplash with how fast you looked at him. “What? I haven’t broken up with Pierre. I’m here with him right now. He said he was going to talk to you and Lando.”

Charles gulped and lowered his voice. “Well I’m sitting in front of you, and Lando is in London. Also he’s talking to someone, that may or may not be his ex girlfriend.”

You whipped your head around again, to see Pierre in the corner of the club, rubbing up against his ex girlfriend. You watched as he tilted her head back and started kissing her. You turned around to face Charles again.

“That motherfucker.” You said.

Charles moved from the seat across from you to the side beside you, where Pierre had been seated earlier.

“Agreed. He shouldn’t treat such a spectacular woman in such a horrible way.”

He stroked your cheek and looked lovingly into your eyes. You could feel your heart starting to beat faster, as you both slowly closed the gap between the two of you.

He tucked a piece of your hair behind your ear. “You don’t deserve somebody like that Y/N. I’d never treat you like that. I’d make sure you’d be treated like a queen.” He said, his voice soft, barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?” You said. “Show me. Show me how I deserve to be treated.”

You were so mad at Pierre right now, you didn’t care that you were about to kiss, and probably do more, with his best friend, but weirdly, it didn’t even feel like it was wrong.

Charle cupped your jaw and he kissed you. At first it was soft and sweet, but you both began to deepen it within seconds. Charles bit your lips, begging for permission for his tongue to enter your mouth, which you granted him immediately. You felt yourself moaning into his mouth, trying desperately to make sure nobody else heard you.

As you started to deepen the kiss further, you could feel has hands traveling all over your body, lingering on your breasts and ass as he squeezed both. He guided you until you were sat on his lap straddling him.

He moved from your lips to your neck. “I’ll mark your neck princess, show everyone in the world that your mine. He would never have done that, would he?”

You shook your head. Charles really did know Pierre well, he hated PDA. Well he hated it with you. He was all for leaving marks all over his ex, but he wouldn’t even kiss your neck. Maybe he was never really into you in the first place, but Pierre was the last person on your mind right now.

You started grinding against Charles, wanting, begging for more. He made a trail of kisses down to your breasts, which were pushed up massively thanks to your bodysuit.

“Please Charles, I need more.” You whimpered and begged.

He nodded. “Yeah, but we’re going to have to move from here, you won’t be able to keep quiet when you’re screaming my name.”

He leaned into your ear. “Come back to my place, I’ll show you what your missing.”

You nodded frantically, not even having to think twice. Charles led you out of the club and he hauled a taxi to bring you both back to his apartment.

You climbed into the back and couldn’t keep your hands off each other. You had never been so thankful for a black-out screen, so the driver couldn’t see you.

Charles’ hands travelled up your thighs, until they reached your pussy. You moaned deeply as he felt how wet you were.

“So wet for me, mon amour, I love it.”

He moved your underwear aside and started fingering you. He found your clit almost immediately and you knew you wouldn’t be able to hang on long. You grabbed your tits and started massaging them.

“Charles, baby, you’re going to have to stop, I’ll come all over this taxi.”

As much as you enjoyed the PDA, you would feel terrible for making a mess in the back of this car. “Don’t worry about that, I have a solution.” He winked at you before going down on his knees in front on you.

You tried to resist but you couldn’t, as he spread your legs wide open and pulled down your underwear, leaving your pussy exposed. He didn’t waste any time before he licked a big strip, from bottom to top, before his tongue entered you.

He started to tongue-fuck you. You felt ecstatic, with the feeling his tongue hitting off of your clit. You held on to the door of the car, needing something to support you.

“Oh fuck, Charles.” You said, moaning his name. You grabbed onto his hair and guided him deeper into your pussy. “Fuck I’m gonna-”

Charles reached up and covered your mouth as your came, in some attempt to muffle your moans. He lapped up all of your juices like someone that had been starved. You collapsed into the seat, your heart beating fast. Once he was finished, he sat back up and started kissing you again.

“You okay?” He asked.

“Fuck. Yes. I couldn’t be better.”

“How much longer until we’re back at yours?” You asked, feeling the heat rising from between your legs. Whilst his tongue was spectacular, you needed something more.

“Could be 15/20 minutes. The Monaco traffic sucks in the middle of summer.”

You smirked up at him. “I know something else that can suck.”

You got down on your knees and pulled down his jeans and boxers, as his rock-hard dick sprung up. It twitched a bit after being exposed, before you started rubbing it and guiding it to your mouth.

“Fuck, Y/N.” He said.

You licked the precum off before taking all of him into your mouth, slowly at first, but then increasing your speed. You grabbed his balls and started massaging them too. You could feel him melting under you.

He grabbed your hair and started pushing himself deeper into your mouth. He tilted his head back and moaned, “Fuck. You’re insane.”

You started to gag a bit and tears were streaming down your face, but you ignored that and focused on making him come in your mouth, which you were sure he was close to doing.

“Y/N, I’m gonna come, fuck.” As he groaned, he came in your mouth, and it was your turn to lap up his cum. You wiped your mouth and sat up on the seat beside him again.

He turned towards you and lowered your bodysuit, exposing your breasts. “You’re so sexy.” He said, his breath still slightly out of control, as he starting sucking your tits and leaving hickeys all over you.

That taxi came to a stop outside of Charles’ apartment. The two of you practically ran to his door, not being able to keep your hands off each other.

Charles shut his door and backed you up against it. You kept into his arms, putting your legs around his waist as you began to suck on his neck. He carried you over to his bed and gently put you down.

He took off your skirt and bodysuit, leaving you in your lingerie set, which you had imagined that Pierre would be seeing, but you were much happier that it was Charles.

He stood back and looked down at you, nearly exposed. “Fuck me, you’re like a piece of art, you’re perfect.”

You sat up and grabbed the hem of his t-shirt, pulling him towards you. He pulled off his t-shirt to show his beautifully chiseled body. You looked down before looking up in his eyes. “Fuck me, please.”

He flipped you over so you were on your hands and knees and he started going into you, using one of his hands to hold your hip, for support, and the other to grab your tits.

You dropped onto your elbows with all the moaning he was making you do. You’d never been fucked like this in all your life. You moaned loader and loader each time.

“Scream my name. Let me hear how could you feel.”

After he hit your g-spot perfectly, that’s what you did. “Charles, fuck, oh my god.” It wasn’t long after before you came again, but it most certainly did not stop there.

“Please Charles, keep going, don’t stop.”

All of a sudden, a ringtone snapped you out of your pleasure. Charles leaned over to the side to see who it was. “It’s Pierre.”

“Fuck him. Don’t answer.” You replied back, you didn’t want to hear from Pierre now, or ever.

After a few minutes, he rang again. “Hang on amour, I have an idea.” He picked up the phone and put it on FaceTime.

“Charles, do you know where Y/N is?” Pierre asked, extremely slurred.

“Yeah, she’s under me.”

“Under you? No Charles in English you say with not under.”

“No, she’s under me.”

Charles then flipped the camera around to show Pierre how he was ramming into you, as you screamed his name again and again, unable to compress any of the moans.

He flipped the camera around again, “Don’t worry, I’ll treat her right.” He said, hanging up before Pierre got the chance to answer.

You and Charles then came at the same time. You came many more times that night, to the point you couldn’t remember who Pierre was. Charles made sure that you were his princess.

—————

you can read part two of this fanfic here

[icallhimjoey]

Lost & Found

♥ ♥  Joseph Quinn x Fem!Reader     Summary: You take a little break, a week away to somewhere warm to relax and calm your senses. So does Joe – same flight, same hotel, same travel plans and, worst of all, same suitcase. What was meant to be a lovely trip to the sun starts off on the wrong foot when you find expensive designer outfits belonging to a man in what you thought was your suitcase.     CW / disclaimer: rpf, fem!reader, lots of swearing, we get a little spicy but nothing too bad, 18+ just in case though!     Author’s note: I asked for requests and then used 0 of them – sorry – this is one of those things that started in a whatsapp chat and started living its own life fairly quickly. Wasn't meant to become a five-parter but, big sigh, here we are... I hope you enjoy this first part!    Wordcount: 3.4K  

part one - part two - part three - part four - part five

Of course. Of fucking course.  

Something always had to go fucking wrong, didn’t it? Couldn’t just be smooth fucking sailing for once, could it?    

Jesus fucking Christ.  

Joe massaged his temples as he let his breath escape through flared nostrils.   

Typical.  

He’s just flung his suitcase onto the bed, ready to charge what needed charging and to change what needed changing. The heavy bounce of it should’ve told him something was off.  

That wasn’t his. 

It wasn't his suitcase that he'd just flung onto his hotel bed.   

It looked enough like it, but his three-digit code didn't unlock it, and upon closer inspection, this one had a lot of marks on it that suggested it had been used a lot more and for a lot longer.    

Not his suitcase.  

Same brand. Same colour. Same model. Not his.  

He'd taken the wrong suitcase. Like the day hadn't been long enough already.  

The warm breeze had felt glorious when he'd stepped off the plane, the temperature balmy enough to really make him feel the difference when walked down the stairs onto the tarmac. The sun had been out, and he'd felt how it immediately relaxed his shoulders. It was exactly what he needed, why he even booked the trip in the first place, he thought, slipping his sunglasses down from the top of his head onto his nose.  

Sun. Warmth from up above that clung in the air that surrounded him.  

Was nice.

Lovely.

He'd gotten what he'd thought was his suitcase from the conveyer belt no problem, finding it quickly. Then it only took a minute to wait for a taxi that took him to his hotel. He'd booked a room in the kind of place you didn't need to leave at all if you didn't really want to – nice hotel restaurant downstairs, nice hotel rooftop bar upstairs, big pool surrounded by sun loungers outside and a view of the beach just behind it. Not quite a resort, but, kind of a resort, if you asked his mum. 

It was exactly what he'd needed. A few days away from the hustle and bustle of daily-life-sludge Joe felt he'd had a hard time wading through. Just a quick break to get his sun-starved skin some much needed vitamin D. Make the freckles that hid underneath his skin show up. It was the time of year when temperatures dropped fairly quickly once the sun went down, but the days were gorgeous still. The type of hot where you could sit in direct sunlight in the middle of the day without feeling like you were melting but still get tanned all over.  

Joe should've felt lucky, because that was what he'd been announcing to the world a lot lately. "I feel very lucky," over and over until it caught up with him.  

"Quick few days away will sort you out," his mum had told him over the phone, and mother's always knew best, didn't they?

So he'd just gone and booked it. Went, fuck it, this looks nice, I want to go there.

And now he was here.

He had five full days all to himself, travel days not included, in which he’d get to truly switch off a second. Enough time to listen to his favourite podcast for however long he wanted without being interrupted halfway through an episode. Enough time to finally get past page five of this book he’d started reading three times already. Enough time to work through his inbox at a leisurely pace. Have whichever drink whenever.   

Joe was meant to feel all lucky.   

It was just that... he'd just flung a suitcase onto his hotel bed that wasn't his, and... now what? The good bits felt all fucked up, the positive twisted, leaving him with just the negative frustrating shit. 

Trip fucking ruined already, and he'd not even been there two hours. 

All he had on him were his passport, his phone, a pair of wireless headphones that were running low on battery and his bank cards. He'd foregone bringing a backpack as carry-on, checking in his suitcase, and feeling very free as he'd walked through the TSA screening with barely anything on him.   

Now he regretted every single decision he'd made that lead up to this moment.   

Unbeknownst to him, you were just two floors up, in the same hotel, in a room that looked identical, also stood by your hotel bed. Difference was, you'd just opened what you thought was your suitcase, only to be met by a bunch of stuff that wasn't yours.   

You didn't own anything pinstriped. Or, um, Dior.  

You checked the code that you hadn't changed to open it – that wasn't what you'd set it as.   

That wasn't your suitcase.   

“Um, what the fuck?”  

Whoever the suitcase belonged to had shut it but then hadn't run a thumb over the numbered wheels to make sure anyone without the right combination couldn't open it – an idiot, you thought.   

And idiot with... very expensive clothes. Men's clothes.   

For a moment far too long, you just looked at what was in front of you and processed what this meant.

You didn’t have your things.

Your stuff.

No dress to slip into. No bikini to wear underneath.

Shit.

You'd have to phone the airline, let them know you'd taken the wrong suitcase. Yours had probably been brought over to lost and found, the owner of this one probably hoping his would be there too. Except it wasn't. It was a 40-minute taxi ride removed from lost and found, up on the 11th floor of a nice beach hotel. With you.  

Shit.   

You looked down at your own top, the stains from the bottle of coke that had sprayed everywhere upon the first cap-twist still evident.   

Fuck.  

This first evening you'd booked a table downstairs for dinner, and then were planning on having drinks upstairs to really make sure you'd knock yourself out cold until at least 10.30am the next morning.   

You threw an arm up and smelled an armpit.  

Rank.

Yea, no way you were going to do those things in the outfit you currently had on.   

"Hi, I have a question regarding baggage claim? Is there a service agent I can talk to? It appears I have taken the wrong suitcase by accident."  

Joe sighed as he got put on hold for a minute, only to be told later to please return the suitcase to baggage claim. He hoped they'd be able to give him any other information that didn't involve him traveling back there. Also, maybe a little info on whether or not his suitcase had been left behind and was now in lost and found, or if someone else had taken it.   

"Please find the baggage claim customer service desk, and we'll be able to help you locate your luggage from there."   

All right. Fine.   

Was he going to do that tonight? After just getting to the hotel, now hungry and tired and in need of some good food and a good night's sleep?  

No.  

Probably not the nicest thing, since, you know, someone else was likely also trying to track down what he was storing in his hotel room right now, but Joe had a dinner reservation for one he wanted to get to. Had scanned the menu online beforehand and was craving the steak tartare now. It just sucked he was going to have that in the same outfit he'd worn traveling there, as well as the rest of the night and the next morning.   

Deep breaths, Joe. Big gulps of air. Take a step back. Zoom out a little.

In the grand scheme of things... this was just annoying. Not the end of the world.

He'd fetch a spare charger for his phone from the front desk, have his meal, have a nice drink, and do his very best not to think about all the things that frustrated him for the rest of the night.  

But, that was easier said that done.  

Especially when, halfway through dinner, a pretty girl walked in wearing what looked suspiciously similar to one of his shirts.

Nah.   

Couldn't be.  

He was probably just seeing things. Was just looking because she was pretty. Was too tired. Had one drink too many.

Was grumpy about the fact that the only charger the hotel had for him didn't fit the outlets here, and they didn't have a plug adapter for him to make it work.   

Was more grumpy about the fact that you'd sat down in his direct line of sight. You know, since he couldn't just burrow himself into his phone for fear of the battery dying on him.   

Was most grumpy that the shirt looked better on you than it did on him.  

For fuck's sake.  

And he wasn't even sure if he even packed that shirt at all! 

For his own sanity, he convinced himself he didn’t pack it.  

Lots of people had shirts like it. Faded orangey colour. Striped. The one he owned probably wasn't quite as pink as this one. Or maybe it was... but, even so, it could be the exact same one, still didn’t need to be his. 

It was a little more difficult however, when upstairs at the bar, after the first sip of his gin martini, he saw you walk out in a jacket that he knew for a fact he’d packed.  

That was his jacket.

Stop it, Joe thought. You've gone mad.

Just a coincidence.

Big coincidence, though... wasn't it?

“you’ve overworked me, i should get another week” he texted his agent, blaming the fact that he was seeing things on that, and received a “lol no” in return.  

Joe was still annoyed the next morning when he climbed into a taxi, phone about to die any second now.

Had you been out the door about twenty seconds earlier, you'd have run into him.

Somehow, traffic turned the twenty seconds into over ten minutes. Joe was already standing by the baggage claim service desk, your suitcase on the floor next to him, patiently waiting as the lady behind the computer typed away with eyes stuck to a computer screen Joe couldn't see. 

You walked up, eyes on your phone, occasionally looking up for signs that pointed you in the right direction. You didn't even notice Joe, or your suitcase on the floor next to him. 

"At airport now, fingers crossed" you texted a friend, and got a quick, "it's there, it's GOT TO BE there" from her in response. It wasn't until the guy in front of you turned around, gave you a polite smile, and then did a double take for you to see it. 

Your suitcase.

"My suitcase!" 

"My jacket."

Oh.

Oh, fuck. 

You were standing in front of the guy whose suitcase you'd gone through the night before. Whose suitcase you did your best to pack so it didn't look like you'd gone through every single thing that was in there. Whose pinstriped jacket you'd thrown on because it was the morning still, a little chilly for... just his T-shirt that you wore underneath. 

You immediately forgot how to function as a normal humanbeing. 

Error 404: cognitive function not found.

"Um, I–I..." you faltered, blood heating your cheeks, and you saw how the brow of stranger in front of you slowly furrowed as his eyes scanned down your body. 

Fuck. 

Now, you see, in your defence... you were left to your own devices, just, all alone in a hotel room, unsupervised, with a suitcase that was full of special, unknown things. Lots of treasures and, expensive designer clothing... how was anyone to expect you to be sensible and not snoop? 

Of course you were going to be snooping.

You snooped.

Were a tried-and-true snooper.

It was just that... you hadn't just snooped, had you? 

Hadn't just let your eyes roam. 

You'd gotten your hands in there almost instantly. 

You'd called a friend, and explained your situation, and had then switched the regular call to Facetime to go through the whole thing together. Toiletry bag and all. Every single item had passed your grip, and you'd tried on more items than you dared admitting to anyone – the boyfriend-fit of every single item had made you consider maybe just... keeping a shirt.

"Fuck me, that looks good on you. Keep it." your friend only egged you on.

"I can't keep it," you said, checking yourself in the mirror before asking your friend to google for prices, wanting to know how much this had cost the owner of the suitcase.

When she told you, you took a moment to let that sink in before you said, "Yea, maybe I should keep it."

That jacket, or perhaps the one pair of jeans. Claim you'd just found the suitcase like that. He'd left it unlocked, anyway.

"Look at this, this... this is clearly someone on a business trip, there's suits, but then, look, he's got two-in-one shampoo and conditioner in his toiletry bag," you held up the bottle close enough to your perched up phone to show it properly. 

"Who takes shampoo on a business trip? Surely you just use whatever they have at the hotel?" your friend made a good point. 

"Especially two-in-fucking-one," you tossed the bottle onto your bed, next to all the other shit you were fishing out. Razor, nail clippers, a moisturizer of which you didn't even recognise the brand - very fancy.

"Men are insane,"

"Even the rich ones, apparently," 

"Especially the rich ones."

It'd been a good half hour of giggles before you'd decided you were just going to wear one of his shirts to dinner. Why not? You could fold it up nicer than the way you'd found it in there. You'd be fine.

He just... he wasn't meant to actually see you in his clothes. You were wearing literal proof of what you were desperately wanting to hide.

How were you going to talk yourself out of this? 

Were you just going to be honest? 

Look at him.

Of course you weren't going to be honest. This man would've made you nervous even if you hadn't shown up in his literal clothes, revealing you'd not just opened the suitcase to see it wasn't yours - you'd gone through it and were now wearing what was his.  

"Oh, excellent!" the lady behind the desk stood up and peered over the desk at the floor, at the two similar suitcases. "This will be a lot easier now," she stepped around with a little scanning device, scanned both labels that you, thank God, both hadn't touched. Imagine if you'd have ripped that off. You'd no idea what that would've meant, but surely it would have made the whole situation a lot more complicated. 

You were contemplating pretending to be crazy. Or stupid. Just really, really, really stupid. 

Shut the fuck up why did he not stop staring at you? Could he look away for just a second, maybe? 

"I didn't mean to– I only opened it this morning, I didn't have anything to we–" you rambled, stumbled through little white lies and stopped when you saw the faintest little hint of amusement on Joe's face.

"Are you going to sue me?" you winced.

"No," his smile grew, but he held out a hand. For the jacket, you presumed. 

"There, all settled." the baggage claim service agent smiled. "This one is yours, and this one is yours." 

"Thank you," Joe smiled at her – she'd done her job. You saw it was just him being polite before his attention turned back to you.

"Um, I won't sue you. But I would like my clothes back..." his hand was still there and you realised that you fully understood the body language, but hadn't actually moved to take it off yet. 

"Yes, of course! Sorry, I was– the plan was that I'd fetch my own suitcase from lost and found and then would change into my own stuff, and–" you squeezed your eyes shut, letting the jacket slide from your shoulders, knowing that you sounded absolutely insane. "You weren't meant to find out." you huffed a laugh, hoping that finding humour in the situation would make him copy it.

"Not exactly a water proof plan," Joe gave you a nod and looked at you a little apprehensively, head tilted down, as you handed over the jacket that he folded over his forearm.

"Well, had you not been here yet, I would've gotten off scot-free," you joked lightly, confidence creeping in a little as you raised your eyebrows at him just before kneeling down next to your suitcase and tipping it onto its side to open it.

"Ah," Joe nodded, all understanding, but his face quickly twisted in exaggerated confusion. "So... that wasn't you in my shirt last night?" 

Your neck cracked with how fast it snapped to look back up at him. Deer in headlights, eyes wide in shock, blush deepening. Had you ever felt sweat prickling in your pits before? 

"I–"

"And red jacket?"

Fucking fuck shit. You were such a fucking idiot.

"Red?" you focussed entirely on the wrong thing, but, what else was there to do in a panic? "No, t'was more of a brownish sort of–"

"Burgundy." Joe cut you off.

You looked at each other for a long moment where it took you a smidge too long to close the mouth you'd left hanging open.

My God.

You'd really worked yourself into a corner here, hadn't you?

"Is that... is that my T-shirt?" 

It got worse fast, though.

You looked down to see for yourself, eyes still huge, and for what? To check if you were still wearing the black T-shirt? You knew you were wearing his T-shirt. It was why you'd opened your suitcase in the first place, to fetch something of your own to change into. To take into a toilet stall so you could give him back what belonged to him, and if you were quick, give it back without pit stains. 

When you looked back up, you felt how the blush was now making your neck and chest break out in hives. There really wasn't a way out of this. Caught red-handed, you had no other choice but to surrender and admit to every single wrong choice you'd made. Not willing to speak the actual confession into existence, you let your arms move on their own accord and just... moved to take the T-shirt off. One of your arms disappeared into the T-shirt, out of the sleeve, and you were about to pull the whole thing over your head when you were stopped.

"No– no, stop, don't–" he laughed. Planted a hand on your shoulder – the one of which the arm was stuck inside the T-shirt now.  

You stopped, listening to his instructions from your kneeled position on the floor. 

Joe wasn't going to let you undress into just your bra in the middle of an airport. This was a weird beginning to his trip but, was it really that bad? He'd gotten his suitcase back. That was what he'd wished for ever since finding out he'd taken the wrong one, and now, it had been returned to him.

He'd gotten what he'd wished for.

So what if a pretty girl borrowed some of his clothes for a second? It probably only meant that some of it smelled nicer now. She looked like she felt bad enough about it, too.

No big deal.

"Are we staying at the same hotel?"

"I... I think so?" you sat unmoved.

"If you could leave that at the front desk, I'll just... it's fine, I'll pick it up there," the frown that graced this man's features earlier seemingly had been sarcastic. Or, he'd just turned friendly. Either way, everything about his face told you not to worry about it.

Well, tough. Fuck him. You were worrying. This was so awkward. 

You very slowly moved your arm back into the sleeve of the T-shirt and then moved to close your suitcase. 

"Okay," your voice had never sounded thicker with hesitation.

"Okay?" Joe laughed.

"Yea," you sighed. "Yea, all right. I'm sorry." you winced as you clicked your suitcase shut and got back up onto your feet.

"It's fine." Joe waved a hand, dismissing the whole thing. You thought that was just to make you feel more comfortable, because you were very clearly going through it. For good reason. Had you been in his shoes, you would've told yourself off for the shit you'd pulled.

"Looks better on you, anyway," 

And like you weren't red in the face enough already, the snort laugh that escaped you turned you purple whilst simultaneously breaking any and all tension.

---

The Taglisted

@adoreyouusugar, @alana4610, @ali-in-w0nderland, @alwayslindie, @babybluebex, @barfightzanddiscolightz, @bettyfrommars, @cancankiki, @capricornrisingsstuff, @chaoticgood-munson, @choke-me-eddie, @demonsanddemogorgons, @did-it-work, @dirtyeddietini, @dylanmunson, @eddie-joe-munson, @eddies-puppet, @electricmunson, @emma77645, @emmamooney, @everythinghasafacee, @figmentofquinn, @frogers, @frootvelvet, @ghost-proofbaby, @ghostinthebackofyourhead, @harringtonfan4, @haylaansmi, @jasminearondottir, @jewellethief, @joesquinns, @kellyxo1, @kennedy-brooke, @lovelyblueness, @miserybeans, @nadixq, @ohmeg, @paola-carter, @pepperstories, @phyllosilicate-s, @roosterisdaddy36, @sherrylyn628, @sidthedollface2, @thebellenouvelle, @thefemininemystiquee, @thewondernanazombie, @tlclick73, @werepartnersnow, @winterwakesthewolf, @yelyahcardella

taglist currently full, sorry

[redrose10]

I’m going to be working on chapter 3 of Cold Brewed Love. I was really sick last week and then my toddler got really sick and we’ve just been a mess. But hopefully that should be out sometime soon.

…Last night I had a horrible panic attack. It came out of nowhere and was one of the worst ones I’ve had in a long time. I thought I was getting passed this but I guess not. So to get my mind off of it I wrote this. It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while, but just never wrote out. It’s just fluffy and funny and cute. I hope everyone likes it and maybe it’ll help someone else feel better.

I don’t have a title so if anyone has any good ideas let me know!!

*******************************************************

Yoongi x Female Reader

Warnings: Swearing, kind of suggestive, anxiety, depression, jealous Yoongi, little angst, maybe bad judgements against foreigners but not in a hateful way (when writing this I did it from the view of an American who speaks English because that’s me so I apologize to others who read that may not fit that role), also fluffy dorky Yoongi

Word count: 3,702

(I included one of my all time favorite Yoongi photos because why not)

When Yoongi first got his military assignment he was less than thrilled about it to say the least. How do you go from writing hit songs while traveling the world performing for thousands of people and collecting records and awards like no one else to sitting behind a desk entering numbers into a computer for eight hours a day? But he understands the why behind the reasons he has to do this, along with knowing that it is his duty so he is committed to completing his service to the best of his ability. He gets up early in the morning pouring himself a cup of coffee before he puts on his uniform and makes the short drive to the office location.

Whether it was pure luck or a carefully calculated choice by someone in charge he was thankful to be working in a quiet building just outside of Seoul. His department was on the top floor. His desk in a back corner, by himself, somewhat hidden away from view. He could show up, do his job, and leave like nothing happened. He was content with keeping to himself, minding his own business, and not going out of his way to make friends. Of course he was polite and friendly if approached, but he was never the approacher.

And then he met you…

When his senior manager told him that he would be getting a desk partner he nodded and politely accepted the change but internally he was irritated. That irritation only grew when he found out that his new partner was a foreigner who barely spoke Korean. His mind immediately conjured up this idea that you were probably some kpop obsessed fan who moved here on a whim. The only saving grace he thought would be that due to the lack of mutual language you both would probably not be speaking much.

He got to work a few minutes earlier than usual on the day you were arriving to work with him. For some reason he wanted to beat you there feeling like he had to lay claim to his portion of the rather large desk. Your computer was already set up next to him. He sighed as he unpacked his bag and began logging in for the day.

Then you arrived. Your work uniform similar to his. You smiled and introduced yourself and then sat down and got right to work. You didn’t freak out and tell him how big of a fan you were. You didn’t even make small talk. You put in your ear buds and turned on some music and got right to work. You brought in a heavenly smell with you of vanilla and sugar. He’s sure it would be called something like Fluffy Cloud Sweet Sugar Oasis and Grandma’s Cookies or something like that if they sold it at Bath & Body works. And he was ready to buy every bottle.

When work was over for the day you told him to have a good night and packed your stuff and left. Yoongi realized this new seating arrangement wasn’t going to be so bad after all.

The days went by much similar to that first day. You introduced him to your best friend Joon-Sung who worked in a different department on the second floor. The first time he met him Yoongi felt what he told himself was just some indigestion from his lunch because there was no way he was jealous of the handsome man that you so freely talked to and joked with until he heard you mention something about Joon-Sung and his new boyfriend and the indigestion somehow magically went away.

Then Yoongi noticed that he found himself feeling a little more excited each day for you to walk through that door. He also started changing his routine bit by bit. He styled his hair a little more, at least the little bit of hair that was slowly growing back after having to get it shaved. He started wearing cologne again, even buying the one he heard you mention you liked after someone walked by wearing it. His nights were spent brushing up on his English so he could better converse with you and in the mornings he started bringing you cups of hot chocolate or herbal tea after he heard you tell Joon-Sung that you were trying to lower your caffeine intake because your anxiety was getting worse.

Then his world came spiraling out of control at the realization that he might like you…like a lot. The last thing he needs right now is any kind of relationship especially with a foreigner. Like sure you were really pretty and very nice and you both communicated well even with the language barrier and you were taking Korean lessons so you were getting better. You had acclimated to living in Korea just fine. Joon-Sung often joked that you acted more Korean than most Koreans and that you were a Korean Ajumma in a young woman’s body.

Your best friend other than Joon-Sung was your 80 year old neighbor Mr.Park and his cat Mittens which lead Yoongi into remembering a story about how you and Mr. Park spent all day hand making cat toys to take to the animal shelter which made Yoongi’s heart swell with affection before he quickly shook that feeling away.

The more he thought about it the more Yoongi realized how much of your life he had grown to know and how much he looked forward to seeing you and talking to you.

And how much he talked about you outside of work.

“I don’t know man, sounds like you like her.”, Hoseok said while having a couple drinks at Yoongi’s on his day off from the military.

“I do not. She’s just nice. We have to work together. That’s all.”

“Mmmhmm sure, that’s why you haven’t stopped talking about her all night. Jimin mentioned that you even told him about her over the phone. And your ears are doing that thing.”

“What thing?,” Yoongi questioned already knowing the answer.

“You know…that thing where you ears get all red when you’re lying or embarrassed. And by how red they are I’m thinking it’s a little of both.”, Hoseok chuckled before taking a sip of beer.

Yoongi couldn’t like you. He’s only known you for a few months. He doesn’t fall that easily for anyone. He knew his last partner for three years before asking them out. He hasn’t even hung out with you outside of work yet. He had your number, but that was because you asked him for it to send over a work file you were going to complete at home. He’s never texted you outside of a thanks once he’s received it. Sure he’s opened up a blank message and attempted to text you something almost every night. That’s normal though. Right? He’s just awkward and you’re just a friend.

Then he saw you walk in for the day. You were carrying two bags of fresh baked chocolate chip cookies. One bag had Joon-Sungs name on it and the other had Yoongi’s. You made him cookies. He thought his heart was going to explode.

When Joon-Sung walked in to collect his package from you he started complaining about how he was going on a date with some guy who loved basketball so now he was trying to cram full of info to try and impress him. He showed you his phone,

“Who is this?”

“That’s Lebron James.”

“Is he any good?”

“Well he’s the highest scoring player in NBA history, he’s top 10 in steals and assists, and has four championships so yeah you could say he’s pretty good.”

“Okay and what team does he play for?”

You sighed, “He was drafted by the Cleveland Cavaliers in 2003 then he went to the Miami Heat for a while and then back to Cleveland and now he’s with the Lakers.”

Yoongi listened as you rattled off basketball facts like nothing with his eyes wide.

Fuck I think I love her, he thought to himself.

Yoongi tried his best to push any thoughts he was having about you far out of his mind. But you were all he thought about. How good you smelled next to him. How sweet your voice sounded saying his name. How you would feel underneath him with his body pressed against yours…

Realizing he was about to really embarrass himself at work he quickly started thinking about that time he accidentally saw his mom in her underwear instead hoping to change the direction of his thoughts but because his brain seemed to hate him his thoughts wandered back to what you would look like in this black lace number he saw was being released by some high end lingerie brand. Maybe he could buy it for you as a gift. Or would that be weird? Quickly he excused himself needing to get up and get a distraction.

When he returned to his desk Joon-Sung was gone and you were typing away at your computer.

“Hey can I ask you a question?”, you said, “I hope I’m not going to make things weird between us.”

Yoongi froze. Did you notice? Could you read minds? Oh my God Yoongi that’s so stupid, people can’t read minds. He was so in his thoughts he forgot that you had asked him a question until he saw you staring back at him.

“Of course, go ahead.”, he managed to squeak out.

“So Joon—Sung is having a party this weekend. He wanted me to ask you to come. It’s nothing big. He does them every few weeks. He’s just social like that.”

Yoongi’s not sure if he’s relieved that you’re not some mind reader or if he’s hurt that you’re only asking him to come because someone else told you to and not that you actually want him there.

But he agrees to go regardless because he wants to spend time with you.

Yoongi doesn’t like to judge people but he’s a little shocked to find out that Joon-Sung lives in one of the fanciest most elite apartment complexes in Seoul. Something about having family money so he works mostly to give himself something to do. Yoongi admits he’s a little impressed and also a little jealous.

He came prepared with topics to talk about. He researched the bands he always sees you listening to even though most really weren’t his style. He looked into your home city so he could ask you questions. And if all else fails he can rely on basketball as a speaking point. He can’t remember the last time he put this much effort into getting to know someone.

He takes off his shoes and walks into the main living area and immediately starts scanning the room for you. He spots you right away.

He takes a moment to look you over. The dress you’re wearing is much shorter and tighter than your normal work outfit. It accentuates every one of your curves perfectly. He sees what he thinks is a thigh tattoo poking out the bottom. He wants to see more of it. You look so good and he can feel his temperature rising. Fuck Yoongi get it together. You’ve been acting like some deprived horny teenager he thinks while making a mental note to call his doctor. Maybe his hormones are out of whack or something. This isn’t normal for him to feel like this around someone.

He watches as you’re happily talking to some guy. Some guy who’s like ten feet tall and made of pure muscle and looks like he was ripped out of beauty magazine. Maybe that is your type. Maybe he should introduce you to Jungkook. At least then he’d still get to see you after his service is up because you’d clearly not be interested in someone like him.

You’re laughing at something the guy said while placing your hand on his bicep.

Well this is something Yoongi never thought about. He was so consumed in his feelings for you that he never stopped to think about whether or not you liked him too or if you were even available. What if you’re already seeing someone? What if you’re happily married with two kids? He never asked you about your relationships since it felt too personal at the time. He feels like the room is spinning as he is trying to find another route when he hears you calling his name.

You walk over and wrap your arms around him in a hug, “I’m so glad you decided to come.”

He smiles feeling some relief as you lead him to the kitchen to get a drink and something to eat.

You’re both eating a piece of pizza when you ask him a question.

“This is random but do you have a nickname? I mean besides Suga or Agust D of course.”

He shakes his head.

“You look like a Yoongles. Has anyone ever called you that?”

“A few fans have online but that’s it.”, he chuckles.

“Well I think it suits you. Or maybe Yoongily Boongily Bear.”

“Okay” he snorts trying to fake indifference but in that moment he realized that he’d let you call him Captain Dumbass if you wanted to just so he could see your smile and hear your giggle again.

Yoongi had gone to talk to one of your other co workers for a while to give you a break from him since you’d been attached at the hip. He was coming back from the bathroom when he noticed you were nowhere to be found.

Did you leave already? And without even saying goodbye. That hurt a little more than he wanted it to. He didn’t get the chance to ask you about your hometown. Now he’s stuck with all these useless facts about some city he’s never even been to.

Just as he was about to give up and head home someone moved the large curtain hanging against the window and he recognized your figure leaning against the balcony outside. Slowly he made his way there.

“I thought you left.”, he said when you turned to look at him after hearing the door open.

“No it was just getting to people-ish in there, I needed a break.”

Yoongi felt bad for intruding on your space.

“Oh I’m sorry. I’ll go back inside.”

He felt electricity shoot through his body after you grabbed his hand and pulled him over to the railing, “No stay. I like spending time with you.”

He felt his heart skip.

The two of you stood in silence for a few moments while staring down at the vast city below.

“I like to look out at the city when I’m overwhelmed or when my anxiety gets too much.”, you suddenly spoke, “I like watching the lights, seeing all the people move around. Some going to work, some coming home. Couples going on dates. Some people are down there having the best day of their life while others are having the worst. It’s comforting in a weird way.”, you chuckled, “To know you’re not alone out here in the world.”

Yoongi looked you over quietly. He didn’t know you struggled so much with anxiety and feelings like that. He knew you had anxiety which is why he never got you anything with a lot of caffeine, but he thought it would just make your heart race or something. He didn’t know you suffered so harshly from it. You always seemed to calm and put together. He felt a strong urge to just wrap you in a big fluffy blanket and give you a kitten to hold as he cuddled you close while telling you it’ll all be okay.

“It’s funny actually. I never really listened to your music before I met you.”

Yoongi gasped dramatically acting extremely hurt.

You giggled, “I know. I mean I knew of you guys and such but it wasn’t really my thing. But when I found out I was going to be working with you I wanted to know about your music and having something to talk about with you. Honestly I went into it not having high expectations.”

Now Yoongi was genuinely a little hurt but he knew everyone was entitled to their own opinions and feelings and that’s why music was so great.

You continued, “I was taken back by how real your music was. How full of emotion and the raw feelings you conveyed. Your song The Last, man I cried after hearing that. To see someone struggle as much as you did with mental health issues and still come out on top even though you had to fight for it. It gave me hope. Maybe one day I’ll be okay too.”

Yoongi thought about every funny scenario he could. That time Jin shoved an entire donut in his mouth and then accidentally coughed it all over Namjoon’s face or that time his brother slipped on some ice and conveniently landed right in a giant puddle of dirty water like he was in a cartoon. Anything to stop himself from crying in front of you.

“Then I listened to Snooze. And that song has become like my anthem. Any time I feel the walls closing in on me or I think I can’t do it any more I play that one and I can feel the gray clouds being pulled away and the sun shining down.”, you chuckled, “You have got to introduce me to WooSung by the way.”

Yoongi laughed with you but deep down he knew he was NEVER introducing you to WooSung unless it was at your wedding after you’d already exchanged vows and kissed and you were officially Mrs. Min Yoongi. Then MAYBE he might let you meet him…from across the room…over video chat.

“I’m glad my music could help you so much. Any time I hear something like that it gives me the motivation to keep going too.”, he said not really sure how to comfort you in that moment.

“How did you do it?”

He look at you confused.

“How did you heal yourself?”

Yoongi found himself chuckling. Not because he thought it was a funny question or anything but he never thought he’d be answering questions like that.

“I mean I don’t know if I’ll every be fully healed. At first I used alcohol. I’d drink until I wasn’t coherent enough to feel. Then I switched to working myself until I was so exhausted I didn’t have the energy to worry. But now I go to therapy and take medicine when it gets really bad. I use music as an escape without overworking myself. I also surround myself with people who I know are good for me. I think that’s really important.”

You nodded in understanding.

“Thank you Yoongi. For helping not only myself but also yourself and the millions of fans around the world.”

Fuck he wanted to kiss you so bad and and hold you and make sure you never felt another ounce of sadness ever again.

This conversation kind of killed the mood admittedly though. You just opened up to him about something that must’ve been difficult and he can’t just be like oh hey by the way I want to date you and hopefully do unspeakable things to you one day so do you want to go out with me? That would be really insensitive.

Instead he was going to simply invite you to hang out as friends, offer to be your support and see where it goes from there.

“Hey Y/N…”

Just then the door swung open and a very drunk Joon-Sung came stumbling out.

“There you are. I looked everywhere for you guys. I figured you were blowing him in the bathroom already.”

Yoongi choked on his spit and felt his entire body heat up at that statement.

“Did you tell him how you love him and you think he has the prettiest eyes and the nicest smile and the cutest little butt?”

“Go.to.bed.Joon-Sung.”, you hissed.

“Alright alright, but if you two are gonna fuck use the spare bedroom. I paid too much for my couch for there to be naked ass cheeks on it.”, he slurred before stumbling back inside.

You turned back around and continued to stare out at the city below. Yoongi thought you were handling this well. If it was him he would’ve already jumped over the railing from embarrassment.

“I’m sorry.”, you whispered when he came up next to you, “I didn’t want you to find out like that. It’s gonna be weird between us now. Monday morning I’ll ask for them to reassign me to a new department.”

“Y/N”

“Hell I’ll even move out of the city.”

“Y/N”

“I’ve heard Busan is nice.”

“Y/N”

“Just please don’t write a song about me. I don’t think I can recover knowing my most embarrassing moment is being retold on stage as seven guys do some extreme choreography while wearing coordinating outfits.”

Y/N!”

Finally he got your attention. He couldn’t help but smile at how flushed you were.

“Can I kiss you?”

“What?”

He used the new boost in confidence from knowing that you liked him too to take a step closer to you. So close he could feel the warmth of his breath bouncing back off of your skin.

“Y/N…Can…I…Kiss…You?”

You didn’t say anything but nodded which was all he needed to lean in placing his lips on yours. It’s cheesy but he felt like fireworks were going off. His senses were overloaded with you. That familiar sweet vanilla perfume you always wear. The softness of your lips. The taste of the pizza and hard cider you had earlier. It made him feel like he could fly.

“So you think I have a cute butt huh?”, he smirked against your lips.

“Seriously? That’s what you’re going to remember?”

He stepped back putting his hands up in defense, “Hey listen, you don’t even want to know the things I’ve thought about your butt over the last couple months.”

“Yeah well maybe you can show me instead then huh.”, you smiled pulling him in for another kiss.

“I would be happy to”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Rock, Meet Hard Place 2

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such as noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: your boss makes a deal that proves less than beneficial for you.

Characters: Nick Fowler, Lloyd Hansen

Author’s Note: This is what you asked for so don’t even.

Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself 💜

“Nick the dick. How’s it hanging? Little to the left? I’m a bit to the right myself,” Hansen strides into the room 

His arrival isn’t a quiet one. Fowler’s men put up the alert at their approach and their fearless leader spent several minutes fidgeting in agitated anticipation. As his adversary turned ally walks in, Fowler is already standing, coolly sipping from his whiskey. You’re glad he got it together. You don’t need him cracking right now. 

“Hansen,” Fowler lowers the glass. “Safe travels?” 

“Ah, ya know, got here with my foreskin on,” the mustached man chortles. 

You stare at him. Somehow, you’re not surprised by the trim along his upper lip. He would be the type. You stand quietly by the wall, observing. 

“And this must be the viper,” Hansen points as he turns to face you, “don’t think I didn’t notice you over there, sugar lips. Mm, a bit older than I expected but I don’t mind a vintage.” 

“Hansen,” Fowler girds. 

“Say, got enough of that to go around,” he flicks his index in Fowler’s direction, “I could use a drink about now.” 

“Help yourself,” Fowler remains by the unlit fireplace as he nods to the decanter and an empty glass. 

“You know what, you’re not too bad either. Got them Sinatra eyes,” Hansen grabs the crystal bottle and tumbler and pours messily, dripping some down the side. He sets down the decanter and switches hands, shaking off his fingers. He brings his knuckles up to suck off the excess. “Hard to tell when you’re behind a barrel, you know?” 

Fowler’s eyes wander over to you. You nod and turn your attention to the visitor. He drink sloppily and lets out a belch.  

“Damn,” he glances at you again, “you get anything done around her with her just standing there? Sweetheart, why don’t you do a spin? Bet you’re fine from all angles.” 

“Leave her alone,” Fowler grits. “You know this isn’t chummy. This is business.” 

“Ha, come on, loosen up,” Hansen insists, “finally, the two of us, together. Nothing in this world could stop us--” He pauses and his eyes drift over again. “Can you tell her not to look at me like that? I swear, I just retracted half an inch.” 

He reaches down to adjust the front of his cream-coloured pants. You roll your eyes. Fowler sighs loudly. 

“Damn, baby,” Hansen struts towards you, “do that again. I like that. You got the kinda eyes I want looking up at me--” 

“Don’t come any closer,” you warn. 

“Or what, mistress? Where’s the whip--” 

“Listen to her,” Fowler warns. 

“Ah, come on, we both know who the dangerous one is,” Hansen chuckles as he reaches to touch your cheek. You catch his hand and bend his fingers back. He yowls like a wet cat and recoils. You twist before you let him go. 

“I told you,” Fowler laughs, his first show of ease. 

“Fuck me,” Hansen presses his hand to his stomach. “Vicious. Oh, kitty, kitty, I like that.” 

“I won’t stop her.” 

“I don’t need you to,” Hansen winks. “Let me tell ya, the balls dropped again. Their fucking heavy. I got an idea how to drain them--” 

“Stroke your ego a little harder,” you retort. 

“Oof,” he wiggles excitedly. “How is she in the sack? You a bottom Nicky boy or--” 

Your knuckles crack across his cheekbone and send him stumbling. It’s not the worst you could do but enough to get the message across. Fowler laughs louder than before. 

“I did warn you--” 

“Shhhhitttttttt,” Hansen snarls as he cradles his face. “Hell of a left hook. I thought you were a righty.” 

“I’m a professional, Hansen, so when you address me, it’s not sweet tits or baby or--” 

“Juicy jugs?” He adds. 

You lift your fist to examine your throbbing knuckles and he flinches away, “alright, ma’am. Mistress? Madame? Tell me what you want and I’ll take it like a good boy.” 

“You like to suffer, huh?” Fowler scoffs. 

“Not much else to do in this life,” Hansen retreats and drains what’s left of the liquor. “So, do I get the grand tour or the two of you leave the dungeon in shambles?” 

You shake your head as Fowler wrinkles his brow. He doesn’t answer right away. You feel like you should say something but no better than to take Hansen’s bait. 

“Guess I can take you around,” Fowler utters flatly. 

“I’ll put this away,” you volunteer as you stride forward and cap the decanter. 

“Oh, oh, Nicky, wait,” Hansen smirks as he leers in your direction, “damn, look at that walk. You ever let her step on you?” 

Fowler’s fingers flutter at his side and his nostrils flair, “as I was saying, this way.” 

“No fucking fun,” Hansen grumbles and rubs his reddening cheek, poking out the tick of his tongue at you. “Sweet-- Ma’am, why don’t you do a shot and come join us. Maybe it’ll make us a little less... strangers.” 

“I have work to do.” 

“Work?” Hansen echoes and glances at Fowler, “is that what she calls you?” 

Fowler’s jaw squares. Hansen chuckles and turns to strut up to the other man. He swings his arm back and slaps his ass, giving a squeeze, “relax, I’m having some fun. Not much chance to beat the meat in a convoy full of trigger-happy dudes.” 

You almost laugh at Fowler’s reaction. He recoils and shoves the other man away. He slaps his shoulder and coughs, flabbergasted by the assault. 

“Fuck,” Fowler exclaims. 

“What kinda glute workout you do? Those are tight.” Hansen says. 

“What the...” Fowler mutters then sends you a look. He gestures to you. Better you go. “Hands to yourself.” 

“Fine,” Hansen raises his palms and splays his fingers wide. “Goddamn, what’s a guy gotta do to get off around here?”