#if anyone wants to send a test ask that's cool too

[thebookishwallflower]

hey y'all, i can't figure out what's wrong, but my tumblr inbox is reading that i have three unopened things in there, but, when clicked shows that it's empty?

don't know how that works, or what happened but if anyone has any insight please share, and if you're one of the three, i'm so sorry, i'm not ignoring you, i can't see it!!

[pomefioredove]

having a crush on you

summary: how they would act having a crush on you type of post: headcanons characters: pomefiore (vil, rook, epel) additional info: reader is yuu, reader is gender neutral, rook is rook, not proofread, hi I'm insane and I love pining, I NEED to write another fic but with rook. might write this same prompt with other dorms

𝐕𝐢𝐥 𝐒𝐜𝐡𝐨𝐞𝐧𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐭

don't take his calm and collected facade as apathy

he's slowly losing his mind about this

"pacing back and forth, mumbling to himself, falling asleep thinking about you" kind of losing his mind

it's my personal belief that Vil hasn't been in love before this

hasn't even really thought about it

so when you enter the picture it kinda throws him off balance

and with the exception of Rook, no one can even tell

he is an actor, after all, he can play the part of "totally platonic friends with room for Jesus"

(maybe a little too well)

but Vil isn't entirely emotionally repressed

he keeps things to himself, yes, but he's quite conscious of his own wants and needs

so when he realizes he's been craving your presence more than usual he does acknowledge it

in his head

and then does nothing about it for months

...what? he's busy

things like this can wait for him, and he doesn't want to put a rift between you two in case it might be a passing feeling

well... it doesn't pass

he becomes keenly aware of how much he wants you around him, how much he thinks about you, how much your very presence is enough to make him happier than he's ever... really felt

and you know what?

he is totally cool about it.

just kidding. he drives himself insane trying to think of the perfect way to confess, something that will impress you and meet his standards

he's dropping hints left and right and you don't seem to be picking any of them up

which again, just makes him crazy

(some days he really wants to ask you how oblivious one person can be, but he restrains himself)

I mean, how many times can he send you red tulips before you finally get the hint? he's practically spelling it out for you!

there is... a tiny, little part of him that worries you don't reciprocate

is he not your type? are you interested in someone else? perhaps he'd been too harsh on you, after all...

the fact that one little potato can make him so worried absolutely drives him mad

he is the vision of poise and grace and you are ruining him

and this sort of mood comes and goes in waves

just when he thinks he's pulled himself back together, you'll smile at him or say something cute and suddenly he's back to square one

(you're so adorable it's annoying -_-)

while he's sorting out a good way to express his feelings properly, he'll be spending all his free time with you

you need some new things? he'll be glad to take you shopping

you came over to see Epel? oh, well, he's not here, but you should stay for some tea, anyway!

your afternoon is free? he has some new lip gloss he's been dying to test out...

𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐧𝐭

contrary to popular belief, I don't think Rook would be so open about it

he still compliments you, of course, and sings praises of your beauty and elegance, and has little regard for personal space, as always

but he's like that with a lot of people, so it's hard to really tell when he likes someone

the truth of the matter is that Rook Hunt can be just as reserved with his feelings as anyone else

when he really, really likes someone, he keeps it to himself

why?

he's hunting you he's learning more about you before making his true feelings known

he feels it's necessary to have an adequate amount of information on his target before making a move, after all

for reference: you catch his eye at orientation, and do not have a single conversation with him until after winter break

(of course, after that, you start mysteriously running into him everywhere)

is he kinda weird about it? uh. yeah.

this is Rook we're talking about

on the other hand, he's completely lovesick about you and it's almost cute

he's definitely the type to write your initials in a journal with a glitter pen while kicking his feet back and forth and giggling

seeing if you would sound better with his last name or he with yours...

definitely has a very weird photo collection of you somewhere in his room

along with stacks of poems, pressed flowers, and little gifts he intends to give you once he's won you over

(when, not if. Rook is nothing if not patient)

you may find a rose left outside Ramshackle every so often

or a few cans of tuna for Grim

all while acting like the same old eccentric Rook, no discernable difference

except when you can feel his eyes on you at random places in the middle of the day

Ace and Deuce call you paranoid but you can't shake the feeling

though, every once in a while he'll get a little grumpy

Rook is easily jealous, and while that sort of possessiveness never extended to untouchable idols like Vil and Neige, he's already decided that you're his prey

and he'd kindly ask everyone else to find their own, thank you

he hasn't exactly planned the confession yet, but just know it's probably going to be the sweetest and craziest you've ever heard

𝐄𝐩𝐞𝐥 𝐅𝐞𝐥𝐦𝐢𝐞𝐫

first of all he's going to fight you for making him like you so much

second of all he's going to beg for a chance

maybe not in that exact order

Epel is constantly at war with his own emotions and having romance thrown in the mix is. uh. not optimal

not only does it ruin the stoic, strong male persona he's been trying to build, but it's also making him feel all soft and gushy

suddenly he cares about looking nice

(much to Vil's approval)

and now he wants to do nice things for you?

he's gonna bite you

how dare you make him think about kissing and holding hands!

don't you know he's supposed to be above all this romantic stuff? what is he, Rook?!

then, after his initial temper tantrum, he starts coping. hard.

he might be able to stomach the idea of being an item if he gets to wear the pants in the relationship

...yeah, right? right.

if you let him be the man, if you let him protect you...

he might be okay with it!

obviously he starts trying to show off his manly strength (seriously) every time he sees you

starts making comments about how tough practice was on him

will literally never let anyone else carry anything for you ever again

he even provides for you (in payments of apple juice)

obviously this backfires 'cause the second you do something that gives him butterflies he's back to giggling

(you'll have to ease him into the idea of being soft and romantic together, but he'll get there)

but, to his credit, he'd be the first out of all the above to confess

super suddenly and out of nowhere (and he ends up shouting it cause he didn't want to sound chicken) but it's sweet in its own way

[kafka-ish]

I want to be Art’s dealer when he needs an eighth after one of his games. I want him to get my number from Patrick because he’s new to this & doesn’t know anyone or anywhere else to get it. Hey, u got any weed? He texts him.

Not on me.

Shit.

I know I’ve been going crazy

Do u know anyone?

The next message is your number. No name. No address. Nothing. But Art’s desperate for a cool down that doesn’t include a tub of ice or a communal sauna. He’s going out on a limb here—hitting send as soon as Patrick relays the message. Nothing too suspicious. You’re at home when you receive a text from an unknown sender.

Maybe Art: Hey, Patrick gave me ur number. This is Art

Come by around 9

You tell him which dorm.

Maybe Art: Okay

He’s at your door at nine sharp, still in his tennis uniform. He’s sweaty from practice, nervously gripping his racket bag and wondering if he should knock or text. Obviously he’s never done this.

He knocks. Doesn’t expect to be met with a girl half his size on the other side. Maybe you’re just the dude’s girlfriend and you happen to be over and end up answering. And in that case he really shouldn’t be looking but he can’t help it. Your hair is wet like you just got done showering. Your shorts ride up, or maybe he’s just imagining things. But he’s not imagining your shirt that’s see-through and barely covers your abdomen. He introduces himself, “Hi, I’m Art.” Maybe that’ll clear up the confusion.

“Yeah you texted me earlier. Come on in.” You leave the door open. You also leave Art dumbfounded.

Art makes sure to shut the door behind him but he doesn’t sit down. Stands awkwardly by the entrance, wondering what he should do with his bag, thumbing the strap.

“So Patrick sent you, huh?” Your voice comes from the kitchen and Art nods even though you can’t see him. He realizes this and dumbly says yes. You look up from the counter, sandwich bag in hand, and you smile at Art who’s fiddling his thumbs by the doorway. “You can sit down. Make yourself at home.”

"Cool." He settles down on your couch, looking around the place, trying not to be obvious even though it is. You smile, wanting to relax him. That's what he's here for, isn't it? His tennis bag is at his feet and he rests his hands on his knees, trying to take up as little space as possible.

"I won't bite, you know," you say, sitting next to him. You place a scale on the coffee table next to a tray of weed that's already been ground. About an ounce, though Art's never seen that much weed at one time. The only time he smokes is with Patrick every once in a while.

"Yeah, I know. I just--"

"What? Is this your first time or something?"

"No! I--I mean. Buying yes." His cheeks are red.

"Okay well don't worry. It's real easy." Art nods. Believes this. "Well."

"Well what?"

"Now I know why Patrick sent you to me."

"Sometimes it's easy." You laugh. Like an inside joke you have but only with yourself. "Sorry I shouldn't have said that."

"No it's fine." And Art gives you this look. Like it is fine. Keep going. Explain everything to me. He wants to know the basics, the hard stuff and everything in between. You just shake your head. Ask how much he needs. "How much do people usually get?"

"Depends on the person." You shrug.

"How much does Patrick get?"

"Like an ounce. Half if he's short on cash." Art raises his eyebrow, shocked he didn't know that about his friend.

"So I should get an ounce," Art says. More of a question than a statement. He's testing the waters. Putting himself out there.

"How much do you smoke?" You push back. You want him to be careful. You also can't risk putting a super hot new customer in danger.

"Honestly? Only with Patrick." He's bashful when he admits this. You probably think he's lame now and totally off your radar. You're never gonna let him step foot into this apartment let alone sell to him again.

"Yeah you don't need an ounce," you say smiling, thinking of how he came in all politely with his tennis racket just like a puppy, tail tucked nervously between its legs, not knowing if he should stand or sit, silently observing your things. He has a good head on his shoulder with a future ahead of him and here you are selling him weed. Who are you to take advantage of such a thing just because Patrick sent him?

"So what do I need?"

"Probably some melatonin and a really good massage. But I'll give you an eighth and pretend like this never happened." This is the first time you've felt bad about selling. You take a jar from a drawer. There's even more weed in it than on the table, but in clumps. Green wads with streaks of purple. You set each on the scale in individuals first before packaging his pile in the bag you grabbed from earlier. "Here."

"How much?"

"On me this time. Think of it as a sample. You got a grinder or you smoking with Patrick?" Art's at a loss for words. He wants to pay you. He has cash too. He'll take you out to dinner. Instead he just says

"No, I, uh. Don't."

"Want me to roll you a joint?"

But before he can say anything you already find yourself folding a zig-zag with the filter, scooping the weed you have out with your fake nail into the paper. Art watches your hands. An expert at work. He thinks how everyone has their own niche and this is yours, just like how he has the tennis court.

When you walk him out you tell him to be safe. You're still smiling. You've never been this happy to not get money. He's about to leave but says, "I can pay, you know. I want this to be an honest transaction and everything."

"Art, I'm a drug dealer."

"Yeah, well--"

"Bye, Artie."

[morningsharksworld]

Hiding Underneath the Sheets

OW Hazard x Reader (Slight spice at the end)

A/N: I wanted to do a lil comfy fic again but with a hint of spice at the end to test the waters (I’m still not ready to write smut)

Summary: You have sometime for yourself at the hideout but turns out your not alone

────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ──────

The Phreaks’ lair had a strange kind of charm: a mix of grunge, neon lights, and chaos that only a group like them could pull off. Tonight, it was unusually quiet. The others had decided to hit up some underground party downtown, leaving you in the lair by yourself. You’d stayed behind, citing the bitter chill of the evening as your excuse. Wrapped in layers of blankets on the oversized couch in the living room, you had everything you needed—a steaming mug of cocoa and the lair’s giant projector playing your favorite movie.

You were so absorbed in the flickering images on the screen that you didn’t notice the soft footsteps behind you. A low chuckle broke the silence, sending a jolt through you.

“Didn’t think anyone else was stayin’ in” Hazard’s voice drawled, thick with his Scottish accent.

You turned, meeting his sharp, brown eyes. He stood there with his signature cocky smirk, hands stuffed into the pockets of his gray sweatpants. The dim neon lights from the lair’s decor highlighted his messy blonde hair. You had no idea he hadn’t gone with the others.

“Could say the same about you” you replied, trying to keep your voice steady. “Didn’t think you were the type to skip a party.”

Hazard shrugged, plopping down onto the couch next to you, much closer than you expected. “Wasn’t feelin’ it. Guess I’m nae the only one in hermit mode tonight, eh?” He grabbed a blanket corner and tugged it over his legs without asking. You rolled your eyes but didn’t protest.

The two of you sat in companionable silence for a while, the movie’s glow casting soft shadows on his face. You could feel his presence, almost too aware of the way he lounged—completely at ease, like he owned the place. Not that he didn’t; Hazard had a way of dominating any space he was in.

As the movie’s credits rolled, Hazard shifted, resting an elbow on the back of the couch to face you. “So, what’s yer deal, anyway? Thought ye’d be out there tearin’ it up with the rest of ‘em.”

“Not really my vibe tonight” you said with a shrug. “Besides, it’s freezing outside.”

Hazard’s smirk widened. “Ye’re one of those folk who’d rather cocoon up than brave a wee bit o’ frostbite, huh?”

“Absolutely” you shot back. “Some of us like bein’ comfortable.”

“Comfortable’s overrated” he said, leanin’ a bit closer. “But I’ll give ye points for the blanket fortress. That’s dedication.”

“Thanks…?” You eyed him suspiciously. He had that look on his face—the one that meant he was about to stir up trouble. And sure enough, he leaned back and stuck out his tongue, flashing something you’d never noticed before. Was that... a tattoo?

“Wait, what’s that?” you asked, leanin’ forward to get a better look.

Hazard’s grin turned downright wicked. “Oh, this?” He stuck his tongue out again,showing off a small, intricate design inked on the surface. It was hard to make out, but it looked like some kind of stylized spiked… skull?

“You have a tattoo on your tongue?” you said, incredulous. “Who does that?”

“Cool folk” he shot back, clearly amused by your reaction. “Bet ye’ve never seen one up close before.”

You snorted, trying to act unimpressed. “And here I thought you couldn’t get more ridiculous.”

Hazard’s eyes narrowed playfully, his smirk turning into something more mischievous. “Careful” he said, leaning closer until his face was just a breath away. “Ye keep lookin’ at me like that, an’ I might think ye’re interested.”

You could feel your face heatin’ up, and before you could stop yourself, you ducked under the covers. “Nope! Nope! Nope! Nope!” you mumbled, yer voice muffled by the blankets.

Hazard’s laughter rang out, low and teasing. “Hidin’ now? C’mon, don’t tell me I’ve embarrassed ye.”

“I’m not embarrassed!” you shot back, peeking out just enough to glare at him.

“Sure ye’re nae” he said, his grin widening. Then, with an exaggerated sigh, he shifted closer and grabbed the edge of your blankets. “Guess I’ll hae to come in an’ get ye out myself.”

“Wait, what—” Before you could protest, Hazard slipped under the blankets, his movements swift and deliberate. You tried to squirm away, but the couch didn’t give you much room to escape. In the chaos, you ended up flat on your back, Hazard loom—no, wait—looming over you, one arm braced on either side of your head.

“Caught ya” he teased, his voice low and smug. He was so close you could see the faint freckles on his nose, the sharp glint in his eyes. His cocky grin was firmly in place, but as the seconds ticked by, his gaze flickered down to your face—and froze.

Your cheeks were burning your wide eyes staring up at him in shock. Hazard’s smirk faltered, his usual confidence replaced by something uncertain as he seemed to realize the position you were in. His body was pressed against yours, his face just inches away.

For a moment, neither of you moved. Then, Hazard’s grin returned, softer this time, as his gaze lingered on your lips. “Y’know” he murmured, his voice low and warm, “Ye make it really hard to stay outta trouble.”

Before you could process his words, Hazard closed the distance between you. His lips crashed onto yours in a kiss that was surprisingly gentle, though there was an undeniable hunger behind it. The taste of him was electric, sending a rush through you that left your breath shaky.

Just as you thought he might pull back, his lips began to trail down the side of your neck, slowly, deliberately, pressin’ soft, lingering kisses against your skin. You gasped, your breath hitching at the sensation, and you felt a shiver run down your spine as he continued, his lips warm and teasing against your throat. His kisses were soft at first, almost like a whisper against your skin, but then, they grew more insistent, the touch of his lips making you whimper involuntarily.

Hazard chuckled low in his throat, the sound vibrating against your neck as he kissed his way down further. “Ye’re nae gettin’ away that easy”

His eyes locked onto yours again, a smug, satisfied grin tugging at his lips. “Guess I’m nae the only one stayin’ in tonight after all.”

You were too stunned to reply, your heart hammering in yer chest, as you stared up at him, flushed and trembling from the kiss. Hazard chuckled, brushin’ a strand of hair from your face. “Don’t go hidin’ under the blankets again” he teased softly. “I might just have to chase ye all over again.”

=================

You didn’t remember falling asleep, but the warmth of the blankets and the lingering haze of Hazard’s presence must have lulled you into slumber. When you woke up, Hazard was still sleeping on the couch, next to you. The neon glow of the lair cast faint colors across the room, and the faint hum of machinery filled the silence. Stretching and rubbing the sleep from your eyes, you wrapped a blanket around yourself and shuffled toward the kitchen, craving something to drink.

Boomslang was already there, leaning against the counter and nursing a mug of tea. Her dark curls were tied back loosely, and her sharp, inquisitive eyes flicked toward you as you entered.

“Morning, sleepyhead” she greeted, her Scottish brogue softer than Hazard’s but still distinct. “Didn’t expect tae see anyone else up this late.”

You mumbled something incomprehensible in reply, too focused on rummaging through the cabinets for a mug. You could feel Boomslang’s eyes on you, sharp as always, as you moved around the kitchen.

When you finally turned to lean against the counter, sipping your drink, her gaze narrowed. Her head tilted slightly, a knowing smirk curling her lips. “You’ve got somethin’ on your neck.”

“Wha—” You froze mid-sip, nearly choking on your drink. “What do you mean?”

“Come here” she said, setting her mug down and motioning for you to step closer. Reluctantly, you obeyed, and she reached out, tilting your head to the side to get a better look. Her smirk deepened as her fingers brushed just below your jaw, right over the faint sting of skin that felt far too sensitive.

“Well, well,” Boomslang drawled, her tone laced with amusement. “Looks like someone had a bit of fun last night. Bite marks and hickeys, huh? Dident know you were the type to let Hazard sink his teeth in.”

Your face went hot, and you pulled away, covering your neck with your hand. “It’s not—it’s nothing!”

Boomslang raised an eyebrow, clearly unconvinced. “Nothin’ huh? You want to explain why you look like you went a round or two with a hungry wolf? Or do I have to guess?”

You groaned, turning away to hide your face. “He’s such a menace” you muttered under your breath, more to yourself than to her.

Boomslang snorted, clearly enjoying your embarrassment. “But seems like you didn’t mind too much, judgin’ by how your blushing to your ears.”

You groaned again, hiding your face behind your mug. “Not a word to anyone” you warned, your voice muffled.

Boomslang laughed, the sound rich and teasing. “My lips are sealed. For now. But you might want to invest in a scarf. Or explain to the rest of the crew why Hazard’s marked you up like his favorite chew toy.”

Her teasing lingered in the air as she sauntered out of the kitchen, leaving you to stew in your flustered thoughts—and the undeniable evidence on your neck.

=================

You were still trying to process Boomslang’s teasing as you stood in the kitchen, sipping your drink and hoping the heat in your cheeks would fade. The last hing you expected was for Hazard to stroll in, his usual cocky swagger softened by the grogginess of just waking up. His eyes found you immediately, and he gave you a lazy grin.

“Mornin’, sunshine” he drawled, his voice rough from sleep. He raked a hand through his messy blonde hair as he made his way to the counter, grabbing a glass. “Thought ye’d still be curled up oan the couch. Ye move quick.”

You swallowed hard, keeping your gaze firmly on your drink. “Needed something to wake me up” you muttered.

Hazard leaned back against the counter, glass in hand, and gave you a slow once-over. His grin widened as his eyes landed on your neck. “Well, whit d’ye ken?” he said, his tone thick with teasing. “Looks like I left a wee bit o’ evidence, aye?”

Your cheeks burned as you tugged the blanket tighter around your shoulders, glaring at him. “You think?”

He chuckled, pushing off the counter and stepping closer. “Couldn’t help masel’, love” he said, voice lowering with that familiar mischievous lilt. “Ye looked too good no tae leave ma mark.”

You tried to stay composed, but the memory of his lips trailing along your neck sent a shiver down your spine. “You’re unbelievable” you muttered, but the heat in your voice betrayed you.

Hazard’s smirk softened, his mismatched eyes locking on yours. “Aye, but ye didnae mind, did ye?” He brushed his fingers lightly over your neck, tracing one of the marks. “Did it hurt, love?”

You hesitated, the ghost of his touch making your skin tingle. “Not exactly” you admitted quietly.

“Good” he murmured, his tone gentler now, but still laced with his usual charm. “I’d hate tae think I did somethin’ ye didnae enjoy.”

Before you could reply, his grin turned devilish again, his voice taking on that familiar cocky edge. “Y’know,” he said, leaning in close enough that you could feel the heat of him “I reckon ye wear ma handiwork pretty well. Suits ye.”

You swatted his hand away, cheeks flaming as you tried to maintain your composure.

Hazard chuckled “Well, then” he said, gesturing toward your neck with his hand “guess I’ll just need tae work harder, won’t I? But for what it’s worth, love, I think I’m off to a pretty decent start.”

You groaned, hiding your face in your hands, as Hazard’s deep laugh echoed through the room, leaving you flustered and far too aware of the marks he’d left behind.

[chappellroansdreamgirl]

officer!els<3

author's note - meow i love this woman.

content warnings - black!coded!reader ig????, fluff, els i love u ellie williams pls handcuff me to ur bed and police-brutalize me! , text msgs from reader that are very me-coded! , mostly just based off every grumpy but cool cop i've seen in media, lots of notes from me i'm going insane I NEED HER!!!!! , there's a white man in a pic i put... you have been warned, smut/suggestive shit at the end!

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- def wanted to be a cop when she was a kid and then was a total fucking juvenile as a teen. (duh!)

- always loved the police officers who barely ever gave troubled kids a hard time. (this is coming from a troubled kid. acab all the way except for u guys. well, still acab, but y'all r cool!) would refuse to talk to anyone except her favorites. i fully believe that's one of the reasons she would go into this workforce.

- when she got approved to start training to be a cop, u were home with her favorite strand of weed and she gave u a look like, "🤨🤨" , "can't be doing that no more baby, i'm gonna be a cop." , "...stfu and take the first hit before you piss me off..." , she's wearing a SHIT-eating grin before she takes it. (don't ask me how she passes her drug-tests!) (probably gets jesse to do it or someone idk maybe joel if she's lucky!) (def not joel...)

- ADDING ONTO THIS!^^ : every single time you smoke when she can't she'll look so sad or just side-eye tf out of you... "really?" , "what do you want me to do ellie..." u stopped smoking around her when she couldn't...

- this woman is so intimidating but once those cop dogs come on the scene she's so cute<3 . she's so smiley and happy they love her AND SHE LOVES THEM. she definitely sent u a picture of her with the group of the babies and was like, "can we adopt them all pls i love them ):" . you guys adopted a rescue pup shortly after...

- whenever you're doing ANYTHING EVER she flashes her badge at you and says something so loser of her , "don't make me handcuff you..." or makes finger guns with the sounds and GOD I LOVE THIS WOMAN.

- speaking of badges, she always has her badge on her. ALWAYS. it is EMBARRASSING!

- when she got her first arrest she was so happy:3 . i FEEL like she took a picture with the fucker and everything and she looked so proud of herself. "good job baby now pls get to the station before that mf breaks out of those handcuffs he looks like he's gonna murder u..."

- this is a headcannon of mine (and canon so why am i saying hc maybe it's just bcs it's more in-depth in my head.) but she loves kids and whenever she sees a younger person at the station, she makes sure that they're ok and have everything they need.

- with that being said, she HATES the teens who don't have a valid reason to be such delinquents. lovable delinquents are her soft-spot but those... THOSE ONES😧.

- definitely is a kitten-saver-cop. hates getting the call but she responds every time.

- sends u this pic anytime u say something mildly threatening to her in text msgs:

suggestive/NSFW!

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- the day she got her uniform, you wanted to jump her bones. she came back home, poor girl was so tired and all you could think about is how good she looked in that shit.

- like i said... the badge is with her at all times... maybe this is too feral but i feel like she put IT in ur mouth and took a polaroid of it after u were done eating her out or SSAAAWWWWMMMMTHHHIIIIING. (pls let me wear ur badge baby i'm on my knees BEGGING YOU!)

- definitely joked about role-playing jailer/jailed and then it wasn't a joke anymore. y'all tried it once and couldn't stop laughing.

- has definitely used her handcuffs on u or vice versa. she gets so excited when u pull that shit out.

- ggggg...g-g-gu-....gggggggggguuuunnn ki-

- definitely has fucked u in the uniform. u two probs have had a quickie in the station bathroom on multiple occasions.

bonus round - police!els edit<3 :

[library-ghoulette]

Headcanons: Copia (Papa Emeritus IV) x reader who loves to bake

SFW, gender-neutral reader

Some cutesy fluff that I haven't been able to get out of my head all week. Because we've seen him go to town on that whipped cream in RHRN, we know this man has a sweet tooth.

He finds out about your hobby when you bring baked goods to a staff meeting or a Ministry potluck. "Who brought these cookies?" "Er, I did?" "So good... Did you get them at that little bakery in town?" "Oh no, I made them!" "You made them??"

He would never outright ask you to bake for him, but he can't help bringing up those cookies every now and then. Just... wouldn't it be nice if there were something sweet at the budget meeting next week? People would probably like that?

You bring a batch, plus a little box with a few set aside especially for him. You pass it over to him in secret so that no one gets jealous, and he falls for you, hard.

He becomes your go-to person to test new recipes on.

Loves to hang out in the kitchen while you bake, chatting your ear off the whole time and stealing little tastes of batter and handfuls of chocolate chips.

Wants to help, but you always end up banishing him to a stool a safe distance away from whatever you're baking. It's not that he's a fuckup, but he gets nervous when he's outside of his comfort zone, and that's when you get chaos in the form of dropped eggs and tablespoons confused for teaspoons.

Asks questions about what you're doing and seems genuinely interested even if he doesn't really get the technical aspects.

Yes, of course he wants to lick the beaters. And the spatula. And the bowl. Yes, it does send your mind to filthy places every single time.

Prefers brownies and cookies just slightly underbaked and gooey, warm out of the oven. He's impatient and hates having to wait for anything to cool down.

He's definitely one of those people who make nigh-pornographic noises when they eat something delicious. Exclamations and expletives, moans, praise.

He has so much confidence in your abilities that it borders on delusion. This is a man who will see the most heinous challenge on GBBO, one that reduces the contestants to tears, and scoff, "Heh! You could do that, easy!"

He's careful not to take your baking for granted or make you feel unappreciated. He knows what it's like for people to constantly demand more and more, and he's not going to do that to you.

Realizing that sometimes you get a sugar craving when you don't feel up to making anything for yourself, he teaches himself a simple recipe for those occasions. Yes, it's just a chocolate mug cake made in the microwave, but he's so proud when he makes it for you. He always adds a generous dollop of whipped cream and some of whatever sprinkles he finds in your stash, usually Halloween ones.

If you find some expensive piece of equipment or fancy ingredient or novelty cake pan that you want but can't justify buying for yourself, he won't rest until you let him get it for you. Or, if you protest too much, it will just show up on your doorstep one day.

The first time you make a birthday cake for him--pulling out all the stops with luscious fillings, homemade buttercream, fancy piping tips--he tears up. Just stares at it for a moment in shock before blowing out the candles. Barely wants to cut it. Insists that you get good pictures of it before he does. It's one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for him, and it makes him feel so, so loved.

[skythealmighty]

gang ngl i miss object universe. i should rewatch it again and get way too emotionally attached to Ice Cream and Map

#rocket talk #i made fanart of them with a steven universe song once i'm unwell

(1 note)

🪟 im-not-electric Follow

why does gamey get to be on ii TWICE. who gave him permission

🪟 im-not-electric Follow

thanks for the suggestion @cabtube-truther

📟 knockoff-gameboy Follow

You don't hear PBSB complaining about this...

🪟 im-not-electric Follow

well they're in a show that's super popular

📟 knockoff-gameboy Follow

Yeah, and you're in one that got cancelled

🪟 im-not-electric Follow

shut up you didnt even finish season one

#just one more cameo mephone4 thats all i ask

(316 notes)

anonymous asked: not sure you're gonna want a cameo rn mephone is going Through it

🪟 im-not-electric Follow

hold on im not actually caught up lemme see

🪟 im-not-electric Follow

holy shit

#I TAKE IT BACK

(58 notes)

anonymous asked: omg fan pleaaaase marru me ill do anythinggg ❤❤❤🥵🥵🥵

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

hey @test-tubular just checking was i ever this weird

🧪 test-tubular Follow

Weird? Always. This weird? No.

💥 fans-fantastic-features Follow

COOL just checking anyway

no please stop sending me these

#fans fantastic asks #this is the least weird anon ask from i think this specific anon #ive blocked them but oh my god #NO!!!

(83 notes)

💥🔃 fans-fantastic-features Follow reblogged 4️⃣ four-therecord

2️⃣ hey-two Follow

Hello everyone!! 👋 Since I've gotten many an ask about my cheesecake recipe from previous TPOT episodes, I've decided to make a longpost and put it here for you all to use!! Feel free to use without credit but credit is still appreciated 😊

Keep reading

4️⃣ four-therecord Follow

i hate you

#so they ARE on here #followed both immediately #how did i not come across them earlier...

(2,613 notes)

💊 the-cringe-one Follow

Recovery across different universes, a scientific theory

(Full post below the cut)

((Thank you to @not-tally-hall for the testimony regarding the S*n!))

Keep reading

😎 the-chad-one Follow

boring 👎👎👎👎

💊 the-cringe-one Follow

Get off my post

⛳ bossy-bot Follow

This is incredibly fascinating and an enjoyable read! There are some points of debate I've brought up in DMs, but otherwise this is a very solid theory. Good job!

💊 the-cringe-one Follow

Thank you, that means a lot!!

#I follow your papers closely so hearing that coming from you is an honor #anyway back to my regularly scheduled nonsense

(13 notes)

🟧 julian-waiting Follow

Bonjour! J'ai découvert ce cite grâce à des vidéos amusantes

Je suis encore en train de m'habiteur à la société et je pense que c'est une bonne façon de me faire des amis! Enchanté de vous recontrer tous 😃

🥖 shut-up-about-boto Follow

bienvenue sur le site de l'enfer ! la plupart des gens ici ne parlent qu'anglais, vous pouvez donc m'envoyer un message si vous voulez parler à quelqu'un en français. je peux également vous montrer des endroits en ligne pour apprendre l'anglais

🟧 julian-waiting Follow

Cela signifierait beaucoup pour moi, merci

🥖 shut-up-about-boto Follow

bien sûr!

🍐 betterthanpearaib Follow

Baguette we all know you're not actually French you don't need to keep pretending 😒...

🥖 shut-up-about-boto Follow

K

(172 notes)

anonymous asked: your iconic quote from episode 10 has unfortunately become a vocal stim for me. please help, i'm suffering

🍿 stevecobseviltwin Follow

Hey? This is the funniest ask anyone's ever sent me. Can we make out behind a Denny's

#my condolences though oh my god 😭

(4 notes)

⚾️ take-me-out-to-theballgame Follow

Guys, this site is easy! Just watch

⚾️ take-me-out-to-theballgame Follow

Based ball? Based on what?

⚾️ take-me-out-to-theballgame Follow

#hey. are you doing okay

No

(42,526 notes)

🍐 betterthanpearaib Follow

Finally watched II! Good show. I want that twink OJ dead why is he like that

☝ i-date-iconic-posts Follow

Date of origin: November 2nd, 2020

🍐 betterthanpearaib Follow

I DIDNT MEAN IT I DIDNT MEAN IT I DIDNT MEAN JT I DIDNT

#😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭😭

(26,942 notes)

🎒 liam-plecak Follow

Thanks everyone for the help so far! I'm not too much of a science nerd, unfortunately, @bossy-bot, so I didn't understand everything in the papers you sent me- but they still helped a ton! Especially the coding help. I was a telemarketer, not an IT person...

Now that I know what I'm doing, I have some free time. With some recommendations from @fans-fantastic-features:

If you have any other recommendations, just leave them in the comments. And please go and send help to @fire-cartoon-schtick while you're at it!

[swiftiethatlovesf1]

Love strategy p.2

Hii guyss, I hope you enjoy part 2, here's part 1 if you've missed it :)

With your plan set in motion, you and Lando meet up to finalize the details of your fake relationship. The two of you sit in a quiet corner of a café, huddled over your drinks, hashing out the rules. You lean forward, fingers tapping nervously against your cup.

"Okay, if we're really doing this, we can’t tell anyone it’s fake,” you say firmly, setting the first boundary. Lando scoffs, leaning back in his chair, looking offended. “Who would I tell?” he asks indignantly, his face scrunched in mock insult.

You give him a long, pointed look. He blinks. "Okay, okay, fine!" he relents. "Second rule: no getting involved with anyone else. That would just make things messy."

"As if I’d do something so stupid," you shoot back, rolling your eyes. "Alright, third rule: no kissing."

Lando’s expression shifts, a playful glint sparking in his eyes. "No kissing? How are we supposed to make this look real?" he teases, leaning in closer. "Come on, kisses aren’t that big of a deal."

You narrow your eyes. "Not a big deal? You're seriously underestimating—"

Before you can finish, Lando’s hands are on your waist, pulling you closer, and suddenly his lips are on yours. It’s soft at first, almost like he’s testing the waters, but then he deepens the kiss, his thumb brushing against your jawline in a way that sends shivers down your spine.

You freeze for a moment, caught completely off guard. This was not in the plan. But the heat of the kiss, the way his touch makes your skin tingle, it’s impossible to resist. Without thinking, you find yourself kissing him back, your hands gripping his shirt to steady yourself.

When he pulls away, there’s a mischievous smirk on his face. "See?" he says, voice low and a little breathless. "Not so bad, is it?"

You stare at Lando for a long moment, still reeling from the kiss, but slowly coming back to the task at hand. "Alright," you say finally, though your voice is softer now. "Kisses… only when necessary. We're trying to sell this, after all."

Lando’s grin widens, clearly pleased with himself. "Necessary, huh? I can work with that."

You roll your eyes, but there's a small smile playing on your lips. "Anyway, we should post a picture together, somewhere casual. That way, when we 'come out' as a couple, it won’t look too sudden. People will have seen us together before."

Lando nods, the wheels clearly turning in his mind. "Smart. It’ll make everything look more natural."

You nod, feeling a sense of relief as the plan starts to take shape. But before you can dwell on it for too long, Lando leans in again, his tone casual but deliberate. "Speaking of tomorrow, you should fly with me instead of Carlos. It’ll help sell the whole thing."

You raise an eyebrow, taken aback. "Fly with you? That would be… weird. People will notice, and I’ve always flown with Carlos."

"Exactly," Lando says, his voice dropping to that mischievous tone again. "That’s the point. It’ll get people talking. That’s what we want, right?"

You hesitate, biting your lip. He’s right. But it feels strange, going from your usual routine with Carlos to something more calculated with Lando. "I don’t know," you murmur, your mind racing. "It just feels like—"

"Weird?" Lando finishes for you, a knowing look in his eyes. "It’s supposed to. But trust me, it’ll work."

You sigh, knowing he’s right, but still feeling conflicted. "Fine. I’ll text Carlos about it."

With a slight sense of unease, you pull out your phone and shoot Carlos a quick message:

Hey, I won’t be flying with you tomorrow. Going with someone else.

It doesn’t take long for him to respond:

Alright. Cool, no worries.

The shortness of the reply catches you off guard, leaving a strange feeling in your chest. You had expected at least a hint of curiosity, maybe a question, but instead, Carlos doesn’t seem to care at all. You stare at the screen, feeling a twinge of sadness that you hadn’t anticipated.

You blink back the unexpected disappointment, trying to shake it off, but the feeling lingers. Lando notices the shift in your expression and raises an eyebrow. "Everything okay?"

"Yeah," you say quickly, slipping your phone back into your pocket. "Just… Carlos doesn’t really care."

Lando frowns slightly, his gaze softening. "You sure you’re okay with all of this?"

You force a smile, pushing down the sadness. "Yeah, I’m fine. It’s just weird, that’s all."

Lando watches you for a moment longer, but then nods, his tone gentle. "Well, if it makes you feel any better, I care."

You let out a soft laugh, shaking your head. "Thanks, Norris. That helps… a little."

He grins. "Good. Now, let’s figure out what else we're doing because we’ve got to look convincing."

Here's part 3

Tag list: @abq654 , @spaceflowergal, @mads94sworld, @anewpersonthatexists, @qlovalova, @itsskavya

[nickeverdeen]

Not saying “I love you too” to the Fourth Wing characters before they leave

Violet Sorrengail

Violet’s mind would immediately race, wondering if something is wrong but trying to keep her cool

She would try to brush it off, telling herself it’s not a big deal, but the hurt would linger

Throughout the day, she’d find herself distracted, replaying the moment in her head

She might overanalyze every interaction leading up to it, questioning if she said or did something wrong

She’d send a check-in later, casually asking if you’re okay, trying not to sound too worried.

She’d confide in Rhiannon about it, seeking advice on whether she should be concerned

Violet’s insecurities would flare up slightly, making her wonder if you’re distancing yourself

She’d miss you more than usual during the day, longing for reassurance

The next time she leaves, she might hesitate before saying “I love you,” waiting to see if you say it first

Violet would gently ask you about it, trying to get to the root of the issue

She might have trouble sleeping, her mind not letting go of the small interaction

She might subtly distance herself, unsure of where you both stand.

Violet might subtly seek reassurance in other ways, like asking if you’re happy with her

Despite the worry, she’d find herself doodling your name absentmindedly

After you finally talk about it and reassure her that it’s a prank, she’d feel a huge weight lift off her shoulders

Xaden Riorson

Xaden would maintain a stoic expression, not letting on that it bothered him

Internally, he’d feel a mix of confusion and frustration, but he’d suppress it

He might briefly wonder if he’s to blame, questioning if he did something to cause it

Xaden wouldn’t talk about it with anyone, keeping his feelings bottled up

He’d become extra protective, channeling his emotions into making sure you’re safe

In his mind, he’d see this as a test of loyalty, waiting to see if it’s a one-time thing or a pattern

He’d throw himself into work or training, trying to distract himself from the lingering doubt

Xaden might subtly monitor your behavior, looking for other signs of distance

Despite his tough exterior, he’d deeply long for your reassurance

He might start to feel a bit of fear, though he wouldn’t show it

He’d put up a colder exterior, trying to protect himself from potential hurt

Xaden might test your feelings subtly, seeing how you react to his affection

He might indirectly bring it up, making a vague comment about how much he values honesty

He’d show his care through protective gestures, even if he’s feeling unsure

Once you reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a mix of relief and a renewed sense of connection

Liam Mairi

Liam would be immediately worried, thinking something might be wrong

He’d probably ask you directly if everything’s okay, his concern clear

If you brush it off, he’d try to reassure you softly, even if he’s still a bit uneasy

He’d be extra affectionate the next time he sees you, trying to make up for the missed words

His protective instincts would kick in, making him even more attentive to your needs

He might casually mention it to a close friend, seeking advice on how to handle it

Liam would keep a subtle watch on your mood, making sure you’re truly okay

He’d go out of his way to do something nice for you, wanting to see you smile

He’d worry that you might be pulling away, even if there’s no real reason

Liam would become even more supportive, trying to show you how much he cares

He might plan a small surprise, hoping it will cheer you up and bring you closer

He’d have a heartfelt conversation with you, wanting to clear the air

He might have trouble sleeping, his mind occupied with thoughts of you

After you talk and reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a deep sense of relief, his worries melting away

Rhiannon Matthias

Rhiannon would be confused at first, not understanding why you didn’t say it back

She’d start to doubt herself, wondering if she did something to upset you

She’d subtly check on you throughout the day, making sure you’re not upset

She’d be extra kind and gentle with you, hoping to smooth over any potential issues

Rhiannon would definitely overthink the situation, replaying it in her mind

She might seek comfort in small gestures, like holding your hand or cuddling with you

Rhiannon would feel a bit insecure, wondering if you’re losing interest

She might write you a sweet note, hoping to bring a smile to your face

She’d worry that something has changed between you, even if it’s just in her head

Rhiannon would be extra thoughtful, trying to anticipate your needs and make you happy

She might start to subtly distance herself, afraid of getting hurt

She’d have nervous energy, fidgeting more than usual when she’s around you

Once you reassure her that it’s a prank, she’d feel a wave of relief, her usual confidence returning

Dain Aetos

Dain would be immediately concerned, thinking something might be wrong

He’d ask you directly if everything’s okay, his tone serious and caring

Dain would go into overprotective mode, making sure you’re okay in every possible way

He’d plan a special date or outing, hoping to reconnect and make things right

Dain would be extra attentive, making sure you feel loved and appreciated

He’d reassure you with his actions, doing little things to show he cares

Dain would worry internally, even if he doesn’t show it on the outside

He’d subtly seek validation from you, looking for signs that you still care

He might have a sleepless night, his mind racing with thoughts of you

Dain would overanalyze the situation, trying to figure out if he missed any signs

He might ask again later if everything’s okay, just to make sure

Once you reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a deep sense of relief, his worry melting away

Imogen

Imogen would be confused at first, not understanding why you didn’t say it back

She’d play it off casually, but the confusion would linger in her mind

Imogen would subtly keep an eye on you, looking for signs that something’s wrong

She wouldn’t push you to talk about it, respecting your space

Imogen might give you a bit more space, thinking you might need it

She’d worry in silence, not wanting to burden you with her concerns

Imogen would be extra careful with her words and actions, trying not to upset you

She’d subtly seek reassurance from you, hoping to feel closer to you

Imogen would feel conflicted, not wanting to make a big deal out of it but also feeling uneasy

Doesn’t talk to anyone about it as this is her personal business

She might start to subtly distance herself, unsure of what’s going on

Once you reassure her that it’s a prank, she’d feel a wave of relief, her worries melting away

Jack Barlowe

Jack would feel immediate annoyance, wondering why you didn’t say it back

He’d mask his insecurity with a sarcastic comment, trying to play it off

Jack might overcompensate by being overly affectionate the next time he sees you

He’d seek validation from you, wanting to make sure you still care

Jack wouldn’t talk about it directly, keeping his feelings bottled up

He’d feel internal frustration, not understanding why it bothered him so much

Jack might make sarcastic comments, trying to cover up his feelings

He’d go into protective mode, making sure you’re okay in every possible way

Jack would throw himself into work or training, trying to distract himself from his feelings

He might indirectly bring it up, making a vague comment about how much he values honesty

He might start to feel a bit of resentment, though he wouldn’t show it

Jack might test your feelings subtly, seeing how you react to his affection

He’d show his care through protective gestures, even if he’s feeling unsure

Once you reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a mix of relief and a renewed sense of connection

Sawyer

Sawyer would play it off with a joke, not wanting to make it awkward

Despite his playful exterior, he’d feel a sting of disappointment

He might bring it up later in a casual way, just to see if you’re okay

Sawyer would keep things light-hearted, not wanting to put pressure on you

Later, when he’s alone, he’d overthink the situation, wondering if he did something wrong

The next time he sees you, he’d be extra affectionate, hoping to make up for whatever he did

He might check in with a Ridoc, casually asking if you’re okay

Despite his calm demeanor, he’d worry that you’re upset with him

Sawyer would be extra attentive, trying to gauge your mood and see if anything’s off

He’d plan a fun outing, hoping to reconnect and make sure you’re okay

Sawyer would avoid having a serious talk about it, preferring to keep things light

He’d subtly look for signs that you’re still interested in him, even if it’s just in your actions

He’d feel a bit of internal conflict, wanting to know what’s wrong but not wanting to push you

Once you reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a wave of relief, his playful nature returning full force

Ridoc

Ridoc would immediately joke about you not saying it, trying to lighten the mood

He’d briefly wonder if you were joking or if you meant it seriously

Ridoc would pretend not to care, brushing it off with a laugh

Despite his outward calm, he’d think about it later, wondering if something’s up

He might bring it up in a light-hearted way later, asking if everything’s okay

Ridoc would tease you gently about it, hoping to get a reaction

The next time he sees you, he’d be extra playful, trying to keep things light

Ridoc would worry in silence, not wanting to make a big deal out of it

He’d keep things casual, not wanting to pressure you into explaining

Ridoc might subtly check in with you more often, making sure you’re okay

He’d plan a fun day together, hoping to reconnect and make you laugh

Ridoc would feel a bit of internal conflict, not wanting to push you but also feeling uneasy

He’d avoid having a serious talk about it, preferring to keep things light.

Once you reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a wave of relief, his usual playful self returning

Garrick

Garrick would feel immediate concern, thinking something might be wrong

He’d ask you directly if everything’s okay, his tone serious and caring

Garrick would go into overprotective mode, making sure you’re okay in every possible way

He’d plan a special date or outing, hoping to reconnect and make things right

Garrick would be extra attentive, making sure you feel loved and appreciated

He’d reassure you with his actions, doing little things to show he cares

Garrick would worry internally, even if he doesn’t show it on the outside

He’d subtly seek validation from you, looking for signs that you still care

He might have a sleepless night, his mind racing with thoughts of you

Garrick would overanalyze the situation, trying to figure out if he missed any signs

He might ask again later if everything’s okay, just to make sure

Garrick would become even more protective, making sure you’re safe and happy

He’d feel a bit of internal conflict, not wanting to push you but also feeling uneasy

Once you reassure him that it’s a prank, he’d feel a deep sense of relief, his worry melting away.

[kneelingshadowsalome]

this has been on my mind for a while, how would König react to a reader who was around when he was being bullied, not one of the bullies since I doubt he would forgive that even tho the sex would be nasty but like a girl who was on the side lines doing nothing and just hanging out with the bullies coming to him apologetically and wanting to make amends??

Oh what a delicious idea!

I meant to answer this with a quick reply but alas 🙄 this turned into a short drabble almost

She wasn’t one of the bullies, which means she’s not someone who König would want to actively terminate (I hc him in some of my darker fics as someone who may or may not have killed his childhood bullies... and/or his father, which means König can’t go back to Austria bc MEMORIES and also bc he has like a raging criminal record there). But she’s an onlooker, practically an enabler, and used to hang out with his bullies, oh dear. König wouldn’t be all too welcoming with her.

Chances are she was someone who König crushed on during school. Unattainable, he daydreamed about having her as his first girlfriend, but naturally that never happened... Now he’s suspicious to the point of being a little paranoid: he built a tough shell because of his past, so doe eyes and apologies won’t get you very far, even if König is intrigued. To be honest, his interest is piqued, but he won't let you see that in a million years.

Perhaps you reach out after a class meeting, some get together he never attended. You always wondered what happened to the cute, awkward nerd who sat behind you in class, the clumsy boy who talked of Rome, chivalry and knights while other boys wanted to be F1 drivers... Maybe you fantasized about asking him to help you with your history or math test, maybe you even blew him a kiss one time on dare to see if he'd walk straight into a wall (he did).

Maybe you dolled yourself up, just for him, excited to see König after over 10 years. To see if the awkward boy would still blush, to see what kind of man he has become... Chirp your regrets after a few blunts and some booze and see if he still fancied you.

But König never came. And of course he didn’t, that’s hardly a surprise. The regret within you builds until you bite the bullet and send a message to his old number, and after a few months, a reply finally arrives, but it’s not the most genial one.

König wants to meet you though… And the man, the thing he has become, makes it clear that he's not the shy awkward boy anymore.

You spend the whole evening trying to get over the sheer size of him, the lack of shaking hands, the distant cold stare with which he looks down at you. The fact that he works as a mercenary, that the boy who never hit anyone now kills people for money... The fact that he looks like someone who could wipe the floor with the young men you used to think were kinda cool.

König, however, is trying to decide what you want from him. Do you still think he’s a loser who never hit back because he wanted to be the better person? Do you think he’s a good for nothing man, even now, upon seeing that he finally succumbed to his hate?

Why do you even want to apologize after all these years?

Do you want an official pardon so that you can sleep your nights better? Or do you want to gawk at him because he chose to skip that stupid get together, perhaps gossip about him to the others and see if you could still find something to laugh at?

He’s the perfect gentleman during your “date”, offers to pay for the food and wishes you all the best. You can see the hurt in his eyes, of course – he wants to make you feel even worse about yourself by being such a good joe, so you break before him when he tries to leave, apologizing again, even crying in front of him.

“I just wanted to know if you’re happy,” you say. “I just hope that everything’s alright now…”

You lay your whole heart out in front of this man, but he's not the boy you used to know, not anymore.

He doesn’t tell you that he’s not happy; he never was. Neither does he heed the wishes of his darker self, wanting to tell you that he’d be happy for a while if you blew him in the restroom. He’s fucking better than that.

“We were just kids,” he says instead.

And that’s it: that’s the apology. But you can’t let him go, and neither can he, not when you humbly decided to come and rip all his wounds open.

Cue to a few months from the first date, you’re neck deep in love with him while König tells himself he’s only having fun. You could say he’s using you for sex; yes, he’s just dating this chick from high school... You’re just someone he comes to fuck and cuddle during leaves. It's nothing serious, no. He can do without serious for a while.

And he’s not going to fall for your charms, no matter how sweet, authentic and loving you are... You make yourself so fucking easy to love, but he's not going to fall for that. Any other woman he'd worship, but not you.

Not you.

Not you…

[aisiedaisie]

Heyo!

I noticed you take asks, but after lurking for a bit, I saw you haven’t done any yet. No worries if you’re not ready! But do you write _ x reader? Because I was thinking it’d be a super cute idea if the reader has a crush on their TA, who happens to be one of the Marauders, in the most boring class ever.

Oh, and if you haven’t had any designated anons yet, can I be ☁️?

Hello hello~ !

I do take asks!!! This is actually the first ask I’ve received and I am so happy. Thank you for sending it in and of course you can be my ☁️ anon! As for _ x reader fics… I’ve actually never written a reader fic before but I’ve tried my best! I think it leaned more gender neutral more than female reader, but I hope its okay.

Also, as someone who normally writes in third person, second person is difficult!!!

TA! Sirius Black x GN! Reader WC: 1.1k

You can’t remember why you signed up for this class. Maybe you thought it would be easy? Or even interesting…

But no.

The only thing remotely worth your time is the observation lab every Friday. The rest? Well, that’s just a blur of uncomfortable lectures, ticking clocks, and the distant hum of other students’ barely contained frustration.

No one would expect you to have perfect attendance. Most of the class doesn't even bother showing up, since attendance isn’t mandatory. They only show for tests, and even then, some skip those. You can’t help but wonder if they dropped the class, or if they just don’t care anymore.

Unfortunately— or, depending on your perspective, fortunately— something other than the lecture has caught your attention. You can’t help but quietly admire the TA at the front of the room, his presence oddly magnetic amidst the dull hum of the class.

Sirius Black is as punctual as you—if not more. He’s always there before anyone else, scanning IDs with a detached efficiency as students shuffle past. Then he settles into the front row, laptop open, his fingers dancing over the keys. He posts notes on Canvas for the absentees, though you suspect it’s more out of routine than necessity, since the lectures are always recorded and uploaded that evening.

He doesn’t seem like the type who’d voluntarily spend his free time sitting through intro-level astronomy lectures. With his shoulder-length, wavy dark hair—often loosely pulled into a half-bun—and his signature worn black leather jacket, he looks more like someone who should be out of a 50s film than a lecture hall. His casual blue jeans and plain white T-shirt complete the look, giving him a James Dean vibe that seems a little too effortless, a little too cool for this room.

You try to refocus, your eyes drifting back to the lecture. Professor Fancourt’s voice drones on in a monotonous lull, and he scribbles another formula on the whiteboard. “With this equation, please find the orbital velocity of Neptune,” he instructs, his back turned as he walks toward the desk by the door where Sirius is absorbed in his typing.

You glance back at the formula, but it might as well be a foreign language.

You’ve never been good at math, and when you signed up for Basic Astronomy, you didn’t think it would be an all-out battle of numbers. You thought you’d be learning about planets, maybe some stars, a little science history. But math? Why did they have to throw that in?

A knot tightens in your stomach as Professor Fancourt starts pacing. You know what’s coming. It’s only a matter of time before he picks someone—randomly, of course—to come up to the whiteboard and answer the question. You have no idea what’s going on with that equation, but you’re pretty sure it’s going to be you.

You don’t want to be called on. Not today.

With a resigned sigh, you gather your things, leaving your notebook open on the desk. A quick break—just enough to clear your head.

You make your way to the TA’s desk. Sirius looks up as you approach, his brow quirking in mild surprise.

“Look at that—someone’s actually moving from their desk,” he teases, and you manage a tired, half-hearted smile, nodding in acknowledgment.

“Just need a break,” you mutter, pulling your ID from your pocket and handing it to him.

He scans it without a word, his fingers drumming absentmindedly on the scanner. “If you’re grabbing something, make it quick,” he says, his voice laced with a playful chuckle. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?” He adds a wink for good measure, making the suggestion feel almost like a dare.

You step out into the hallway, the noise of the lecture hall fading behind you. For a moment, the weight of the class lifts from your shoulders, and you allow yourself to relax. You focus on the vending machine in front of you, half-stalling, half-actually needing something to take your mind off the dull lecture and the growing pressure of the equation you still can’t wrap your head around.

You scan the rows of snacks—chips, candy bars, granola. You grab the chocolate bar you always go for when you need something quick. You buy it, but as you clutch the candy and step away from the machine, you remember Sirius’ words, his playful tone still echoing in your mind. “And don’t forget—bring me something back, yeah?”

You pause, eyeing your snack. An impulse hits you, and you decide to grab a pack of sour gummies from the row below. It’s different from what you’d normally get, but you figure it’s a safe bet. Plus, you’d hate to go back empty-handed after he asked, even if he was joking.

With both snacks in hand, you head back into the lecture hall. The familiar hum of the room greets you, but this time it feels different. The pressure in your chest has lifted, replaced with an unexpected calm. You’re grateful to find the professor already discussing the next topic when you return.

You make your way to your seat, but before you sit down, you glance toward the front of the room. Sirius is still hunched over his laptop, typing with the same detached concentration as always. His attention is on the screen, but when he hears you approach, he looks up just in time to catch your eye.

You raise the pack of sour gummies slightly, as if to confirm you heard him. “Brought you something.”

His eyebrow quirks in surprise, but the smirk that follows is unmistakable. He leans back in his chair, crossing his arms with a quiet chuckle. “Well, I’ll be damned. You actually came through.” His gaze flickers between the gummies and your face, and you can’t help but feel a little self-conscious under his attention.

“They’re for you,” you say, offering him the pack. “Hope you like them.”

Sirius grins, his fingers brushing against yours for a brief moment as he takes the gummies. “Thanks. This’ll make the rest of this lecture bearable,” he says with a wink. “Thanks, love.”

You smile, a little shy, your cheeks flushing at the nickname. You return to your seat as he rips open the pack, popping a gummy in his mouth. The subtle exchange is enough to keep your mind from wandering back to the looming equation on the board.

The rest of the class goes by in a blur.

Professor Fancourt drones on as usual, but you don’t mind so much now. For once, you actually feel... lighter. Sirius hasn’t left his post at the front of the room, but every so often, you catch him glancing back at you with a quiet grin, as if he knows exactly how much of an effect he’s having on you. It turns your cheeks even darker, and your eyes quickly dart away when you make eye contact.

By the time the class ends, you’re no longer dreading the idea of coming back next week. In fact, you might even look forward to it a little, and not just because of the observation lab on Friday.

[outercrasis]

The Distance - Ch 13

Pairing: Din Djarin x Pilot F!Reader (reader is petite/no other descriptors)

Word Count/Rating: 4.8k / T (will become M/E in later chapters)

Summary: Time to meet a new (old) friend.

Warnings: some general angst (nothing too heavy), alcohol consumption

Previous || Series Masterlist || Next

Din doesn’t offer any additional details about Mos Pelgo or whoever you're supposed to be dropping in on. You put together a small bag, prepping for a couple days away from your ship. Tex seems more nervous than you do.

“I know buddy, but I'll still be on planet,” you placate. “It's a good opportunity to test out these long range comms too. You can send me whatever updates you want while I'm gone.”

Tex beeps lowly, reluctantly accepting the situation. You don't blame him – you can't remember the last time you left Tex or the Chimera for more than a single night.

“Got ‘em!” You hold up your old goggles triumphantly, finally locating them at the bottom of a long forgotten pack. “Knew I still had these somewhere.”

Peli is already waiting for you at the bottom of the Chimera's ramp. You can see why Din likes her – she feels like a crazy aunt that you only see once a cycle, while also being able to intuit things better than anyone else you know.

“What should I know about her?” Peli asks. You can't help but smile.

Thirty minutes later and you've given her the  rundown of the Chimera's basics. Tex has instructions to share schematics with Peli when needed and is officially given authority over the pit droids. He's not so secretly thrilled by that fact. Knowing that Peli is the mastermind behind the N1 calms any of your bigger anxieties about leaving your baby behind for repairs.

Din is already standing by the speeder bike when you’re done. It’s a bigger model that could probably support a sidecar, but there are none of those in sight. The only option is to sit on the bike with Din. You steel yourself, trying to push down your hurt feelings. There’s no point in lingering on them right now when you’re about to be in very close quarters with him. 

You give Grogu a couple pats goodbye and then shove your bag into one of the saddlebags already attached to the bike. 

“Is it comfortable?” Din asks. You're more than a little lost.

“My bag?”

He chuckles, the low noise just managing to bypass the vocoder. “No, the holster.”

It's the first time you've been able to wear it since he got it for you. Sure, you've worn it around the Chimera a few times, but never out in the world. “It's good.”

If you were in a better mood you might tell him that it fits like a glove – that you can almost forget you have it on. You don't know how he managed to find a holster that feels like it was made for you.

“Good.”

You climb onto the bike, moving yourself forward to make it easier for Din. He turns and says something to Peli you don’t catch before getting onto the bike behind you. It’s tight, but you both fit. 

You’re hyper aware of his body around yours. The firm, cool beskar at your back, the way his legs bracket around yours, his arms caging you in as he reaches up to the handlebars. You barely have enough presence of mind to pull your goggles down before he takes off, launching the two of you into the vast expanse of the desert.

You wish you could enjoy this more. This is the closest and longest you have ever been next to Din and yet you're stuck in a terrible mood. With nothing to distract you, his stupid words are running on a loop in your head. 

Just a pilot.

Even worse is that you're getting upset with yourself as well as Din. You don't know why you can't let it go. Why the words wormed their way into the worst part of your brain, plaguing you and making you feel childish. He probably didn't mean anything by it. You wish you could convince yourself of that.

The speeder bike is doing nothing to improve your mood. While the bike is capable of carrying two, that doesn’t mean it was built for it. Peli was right when she said it was junk – the seat cushion barely offers a modicum of support. 

Din’s position on the bike is so firm you can’t move or readjust at all. It was fine at first, making you feel a bit safer, protected by him on the dangerously fast bike. Now though, your body aches. Your refusal to create any additional points of contact between your bodies beyond what's unavoidable isn't helping either.

Your muscles demand to move, one of your legs half asleep from the position it’s in. Only your hands are free to move but you can’t decide what to do with them, so you settle for relaxing them in your lap until that gets uncomfortable after a while. Logically you know this isn’t actually Din’s fault, but the irrational side of your brain is winning. You feel trapped, stuck in one place on the machine until Din determines that it’s time to stop. You aren’t even sure of a way to signal to him to let him know that you need a quick pause to stretch.

You endure for a bit longer before deciding that you can’t continue. You don’t know how far away Mos Pelgo is and your body feels like it’s being turned into stone from inactivity. Even if it’s only for a few minutes, you need to stretch your legs. You decide to tap Din’s leg and try to look up at him. He gets your message because soon the speeder slows down and comes to a stop.

“What’s wrong?” Din asks.

“I need to stretch. I haven’t moved in too long and I’m way too stiff,” you explain. 

Din gets off of the bike first. You keep your eyes firmly planted forward, unwilling to watch and risk an awkward situation.

You stretch your arms and back first before moving from the seat. Your spine pops and you can feel your muscles rejoice from the new movement. You swing your leg around and go to step off the bike, only to have your legs give out and nearly fall face first into the sand. It appears that your leg was more than half-asleep in its crunched position.

You’re saved by Din’s quick reflexes, catching your arm and holding you up before you fall completely. “You okay, can’gal?”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you mumble, pulling your arm from his hold. You do your best to ignore the painful tingles in your leg as blood flow and feeling returns. You scan the landscape as you continue to stretch. It’s desolate, countless dunes of sand as far as the eye can see. Yet the planet is beautiful in its own way – a sterile kind that is unique with its twin suns shining brightly overhead.

After about five minutes of stretching and moving around, you turn back to Din. He’s leaning against the speeder with his arms casually folded over his chest. He looks like he should be on the cover of Speeders Weekly.

“I’m ready. Mind telling me how much farther we have?”

You climb back on and Din follows. “About another hour and a half. Think you can hold on that long?”

You glance up at him behind you. “It would be easier without your giant body blocking me in, but I think I’ll make it.”

Din lets out a distorted chuckle at your barb. He gives your legs a quick squeeze with his own. You ignore the skip in your heartbeat. “You can move if you need to, just don’t fall off.”

“How can I, with you in the way?”

Din laughs again and starts up the speeder. You pull your goggles back down and he takes off, launching you back over the endless sand dunes.

Nearly two hours later, Din’s prediction a little off, you can see Mos Pelgo in the distance. The twin suns hang low in the sky and cast barely enough light to see by. The second half of the speeder ride wasn’t as bad. It was shorter and the suns sinking had alleviated much of the heat. 

You felt a bit more comfortable moving when your body began to stiffen which helped to prevent more pain. At some point you even begin to relax – if you ignored how uncomfortable the seat was beneath you it wasn’t so bad. Din’s chestplate acted as a nice backrest for you and you can tell he tried to position his legs to give yours more room. They didn't start tingling again at least.

Once you see the tiny settlement on the horizon you feel your stomach drop. Your palms are getting sweaty and you know it has nothing to do with the planet’s heat. This town clearly doesn’t have much and you wonder why Din made his way out here before. Did he track a bounty all this way? And who could compel him to return? Whoever they were, they must be pretty to come out here for a visit.

Din slows the speeder bike as you roll into town and you see a few people wandering around Mos Pelgo. You expect them all to stare in wonder or fear like what normally happens when Din comes into a town. Instead, you can hardly believe your eyes as they… wave? Are the people in this town actually waving at the big scary Mandalorian? Maker, what is this place? It’s unlike any experience you’ve ever had with Din at your side before.

Din stops the speeder outside of the cantina. He hops off and offers you a hand. You still feel anxious and a large part of you doesn’t want to take it, but you can’t fully trust your legs at the moment. His hand is firm in yours and you can’t help but feel a small amount of comfort at the touch.

The cantina is as small and cozy as you've ever seen one. The lights are low, half the tables taken up by patrons. There's a comfortable murmur filling the air that mixes with the jizz music coming from a jukebox in the corner.

Din guides you towards one of the rounded booths. You've never seen him this relaxed in a public setting before. His visor is scanning the room but the looseness of his shoulders tells you he’s not looking for a threat.

You figure you'll know this mystery person when you see them. Din might be hidden away under all that armor, but somehow the only the prettiest of people find their way to him. You've seen more than a few brave souls be turned away. Nerves get the better of you and you begin to absentmindedly pick at your fingers.

Moments later, a drawl comes from above you. “Well I'll be.”

You look up and see a tall, lanky but not awkward man standing in front of you and Din. He’s got a sideways grin plastered on his face, which should look more ridiculous than it does. His silver hair looks as though it was nicely styled like his short beard before the desert winds blew through it. His eyes are bright and you’re tempted to describe them as sparkling.

“Mando,” he says in a friendly greeting while sticking his hand out towards Din for a handshake.

“Marshal,” Din shakes the man’s hand. He turns to you and gestures to his acquaintance. “Meet Cobb Vanth, Marshal of Mos Pelgo.”

“Nice to meet you.”

Cobb turns his smile to you and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t feel yourself melt a little. You already understand why Din would want to come out here for a visit – this man could probably charm just about anyone.

“And just who might you be, darlin’? Don’t tell me you’re somehow that little green kid he had with him before.”

That makes you laugh out loud. “No, I’m not.” You offer up your name along with your hand to shake. Cobb takes your hand and presses a soft kiss against your knuckles. You have to admit, he’s smooth. Din gives a small cough from his side of the booth.

“Sorry there Mando, just couldn’t help myself,” Cobb says, winking at you. Oh, he’s very smooth.

“Sure you couldn’t.”

Cobb sits on your other side, across from Din, and hails the bartender over. He sets down three cups and an entire jug of spotchka. The Marshal must be well liked then, you think, if the bartender is willing to part with a jug so easily. Cobb pours all three glasses, which strikes you as odd, considering that he should know Din doesn’t eat or drink with others. Din doesn’t say anything about it though, so you keep quiet as well.

“What brings you out this way?” Cobb asks as he passes the cups around.

“Had the time. I was told you came back here after your time in the bacta tank.”

Just how many friends does Din have on this backwater rock? You thought you were getting to know one another – two loners who found each other – and here he is with a number of mystery friends he never speaks of. Maybe you had misjudged the closeness of your relationship.

“Nowhere else for me to go,” Cobb says. “Besides, the new arm works for intimidation purposes.”

With a flick of his wrist, a small blaster pops up out of the Marshal's robotic arm. It probably doesn't have any more power than a hold-out blaster, but it gets a message across. Din doesn't even flinch.

As close as you are to each other, you're able to see the gears whirring in his arm and follow the different lines and parts as they travel up towards his shoulder. His mod isn't the fanciest you've ever seen but it's still a work of art.

“Marshal, do you mind if I take a look?” you ask, gesturing towards his arm. He seems proud of it, so you don't think he'll mind the request.

He puts the blaster away, setting his arm down on the table in front of you. “Not at all. Just don't touch with that part there, sends my nerves ablaze if it's messed with.”

This new man is just as much of a mystery to you as the other one at the table. Din took months before he'd let you poke around at his armor’s electronic components and that wasn't even fully attached to his body. Meanwhile Cobb is more than happy to have you take a look while also revealing its biggest weakness.

Din and Cobb's conversation fades away as you look over his arm. This kind of fine mechanical work is always tricky, ten times more when you factor in the biological component. Cobb allows you to move his arm in whatever way you see fit, easily answering the questions that you’re mostly muttering to yourself. You ignore Din’s weighty stare.

“You’ve got a thing of beauty there, Marshal,” you say as you complete your observations.

“Well that's not a word I hear that often,” he defers. “And please, call me Cobb.”

“Somehow I doubt that, Cobb.”

He laughs loudly. “Well shoot. You've got one heck of a girl here, Mando.”

You glance over at Din. He's as stoic as ever. You're left floundering – no longer truly understanding your relationship with him or his relationship to Cobb. Irritation bubbles over.

“Not his girl. Just a pilot.” You throw back the shot of spotchka in front of you, ignoring the burn as it goes down.

“Duly noted,” Cobb says, giving you a small nod. You don’t look over at Din. You don’t want to see his reaction.

The three of you are able to fall into easy conversation from there. You discover the connection between Cobb and Din – You mean you haven’t told her ‘bout me? I’m hurt Mando, real hurt – and you decide you can’t imagine Mandalorian armor on Cobb. There’s just something about him that doesn’t work quite right with your picture. He’s too casual, too comfortable with himself to ever need a second skin over top. He's also too skinny you decide, not nearly broad enough to fill out Mandalorian armor as it should be.

You don't try to hide your fascination as Cobb regales you with the tale of the krayt dragon. "I thought he was a goner for sure, getting eaten like that. Just when I'm thinkin' the worst out he comes, flying out of the beast's mouth like some sorta hero."

You turn to Din, the spotchka in your system removing any embarrassment as you openly gape at him. "Is he telling the truth?" you ask. It's not that you don't trust Cobb, but the whole thing is so remarkable that it's hard to believe.

"He's making it sound like more than it was. I was covered in it's bile, I stunk for weeks after that."

You learn about Mos Pelgo, how Cobb came to be its Marshal, and how the town has been getting on since the dragon's death. He tells you about the run-ins with the Pyke Syndicate and how he came to lose his arm.

Through all the replays of Din and Cobb's greatest hits, you figure that if there are any kind of romantic feelings between the two, it's never elevated beyond some flirtation. It makes you feel foolish for ever getting jealous in the first place. Old habits and ways of thinking die hard, you suppose.

The spotchka goes down easy, a welcome distraction from any unhappy thoughts lingering in the back of your mind. Cobb continues to flirt with you throughout the night, serving as another nice distraction. You know you shouldn't encourage it, but his open attraction and the alcohol make it difficult to resist. Sure, he is a bit skinny, a bit talkative, and his skin isn't as sun-kissed as you preferred, but he could do. 

As the night wears to a close, you can feel sleep begin to pull at the corners of your mind. The long day in the sun combined with the alcohol you consumed start working together to make your body shut down. You hardly register as Din asks Cobb where the two of you can stay for the night.

You pull yourself out of the booth, slapping your cheeks gently to try and clear up the fog in your mind. You regain enough clarity to function without assistance. After Din grabs your bags off the speeder, you both follow Cobb as he leads you both to the single spare room above the cantina.

"Sorry it ain't much, but as you know we don't get many visitors out here," Cobb says as he opens the door.

He's right. It isn't much. Just a tiny square room with a bed and a dresser with a 'fresher attached. You're happy to note that it all looks clean though, devoid of the layer of sand that seems to cover everything on Tatooine.

"It'll be just fine, thank you Marshal," you tell him. Cobb tips an imaginary hat and throws a wink at you. He gives Din a wink too, which makes you snort. He then walks away, throwing a goodnight over his shoulder.

You shake your head, amused, and follow Din into the room. Rather than flounder about the sleeping arrangements, you grab some clothes from your bag and go into the 'fresher, determined to get off at least some of the day's grime. You're disappointed with a sonic shower, although you weren't sure what else you expected, being on a desert planet. Still, it provides some relief and you change into some clean clothes to sleep in. You splash a small amount of water on your face from the sink and gulp some down in your cupped hands.

"All yours," you announce as you walk back into the small room. 

Din doesn't say anything, but he goes into the 'fresher and closes the door just a bit too hard. Was he mad about something, you wonder? Although you've hit your second wind, the alcohol is still playing with your thoughts. Maybe he's just moody from the long day.

He doesn't take long in there, certainly less time than your small tipsy fumbles, and comes back out still fully dressed. You push yourself up onto your elbows in the bed and look him over. "Take off the armor," you tell him.

"You're drunk,” he responds.

“Yeah? And why does that matter?” you ask. Din doesn’t reply. You sigh and drop backwards to stare up at the ceiling. 

“There’s no way you can be comfortable sleeping in all of that metal. So just take it off and get in the bed. I’m obviously not talking about the helmet.”

You stay staring at the ceiling. It’s a fairly comfortable position, head cushioned in the pillows, while you try to not make him uncomfortable. 

You aren’t really sure why this is such a big deal to him tonight. He’s taken off his beskar in front of you plenty of times now. Yet maybe something had changed between the two of you again without you noticing. You were just a pilot to him, maybe that meant some of his walls were coming back up? Desperately, you tried to ignore the stab of pain that thought caused you. You don’t want to lose Din to the cold, distant Mando you met so many months ago, especially not without knowing why. The thought is too much to bear.

You turn on your side, away from Din, offering him extra assurance that you weren’t just trying to perv on him as he removed his armor. You know he's caught you staring more than a few times around the Chimera. Did that bother him? You should have asked.

Part of you knows you should be more nervous about sharing a bed with Din – particularly with this growing gulf between the two of you. This is intimate in a way, isn’t it? Sharing a space to sleep like this? Yet, whether it’s the influence of the alcohol or the exhaustion, you can’t find it within yourself to be flustered over it. It’s practical anyway. You both need sleep and Mos Pelgo only has the one room and bed to offer. One of you sleeping on the floor would be stupid. You try to convince yourself that if only Din would stop being ridiculous and get into the bed, things would be just fine again – right?

After what seems like an eternity, you hear metal pieces begin to clank down together on the dresser. A small smile works its way across your lips and you’re happy that for once it’s your face hidden away from his. He’s hesitant maybe, but not uncomfortable enough to keep the heavy armor on. Knowing that things are okay enough, your eyes shutter closed and a deep sleep carries you away.

Din is surprised to discover that you’re already asleep when he climbs into bed. You seemed so awake a few moments ago when he started taking off his armor. He’s still kicking himself for his reaction. 

Of course you meant for him to take it off to go to sleep, not... anything else. Why would you? You’ve been acting off ever since landing on Tatooine. You wouldn’t suddenly be asking him for that, not now. Not that you would want anything like that with him anyway – Din feels like a monster for thinking that way about you.

Looking down at you, Din ruminates a bit more. Somehow between all of the bounties, long hours, injuries, and repairs, you worked your way into his heart. Part of him doesn’t want to admit it still, that you have such a large effect on him, but it gets harder with every passing day. Touches and stares linger for longer and Din takes notice of your bashfulness every time he calls your name. Until today.

Din hasn’t been able to figure out what has caused the change. Soon after landing in Tatooine you brushed him off, distancing yourself from him. He knew the speeder bike situation wasn’t ideal, but usually you would have handled something like that with more tact, not the brash way you questioned Peli about another bike. You were tense for the longest time on the bike, not relaxing until the small break you took part way through the ride. Were you just upset to be stuck on Tatooine? Bothered by the beating the Chimera took? Or had he done something?

He was leaning towards the idea that he had done something to upset you. Just a pilot. Those words bounced around in his mind. 

He panicked when Peli asked who you were and those had been the first words out of his mouth. He hardly even considered the way they would sound. The way you repeated those words to Cobb, it felt like a slap to the face.

The town marshal wasn't helping anything either. Watching the two of you was making his blood boil. He likes the man, killing a krayt dragon together has that effect, but he has few qualms about punching the Marshal in the face right about now. He stared at you so openly, flirted so shamelessly, and you reciprocated. If Din was a lesser man he would have thrown you over his shoulder and carted you out of the cantina.

His mind continued to swirl and wander. Was it simply being stuck on Tatooine that made you change? Did being stuck here, with no agenda as you put it earlier, make you realize flying around with him was not the life you wanted? 

Of course you didn’t want to be stuck, tied down to a man who couldn’t even show you his face, who couldn’t even admit what you were to him. Cobb was able to make his intentions towards you obvious from the first words he spoke. You deserved that, not the brief, vague moments of intimacy Din had to offer.

Din looks away from you, trying to close his heart off from you, deciding that it’s what's best. He makes himself comfortable, lying on his back, helmet cushioned by the pillow.

He reopens his eyes just as soon as he closes them. You've repositioned yourself in your sleep, turning over and wrapping an arm firmly around his waist, face tucked into his side. 

The touch makes him nervous, unsure of how to react to the foreign embrace. His resolve to give you up quickly crumbles. Din’s never had this. He’s thought of it before, but it was all theoretical. This is real and unlike anything he ever imagined.

Part of him feels perverted for enjoying it as much as he is and so quickly after realizing you deserved more than him. You’re asleep and you fell asleep facing the other direction – you had no control over this, no consent. 

Despite those protests, he can’t help but sink into your touch. He repositions his arm, wrapping it around you, which causes you to shift your head up onto his chest. His breathing stops for a minute, terrified that you’ll wake up and pull away, but you remain lost in blissful dreams. The feeling of your warm body pressed against his, hand fisting into his shirt, the gentle rise and fall of your back against his palm while you breathe, is almost more than he can handle.

Din lies there for a few minutes, trying to commit every sensation, every sound you make to memory. It’s overwhelming and yet he craves more. With the helmet on in this position, he can’t get the right angle to look down at you. A risky idea runs through his mind and once again he ignores his protesting thoughts, following the path your touch has sent him down. 

He calls your name twice, softly, just to test how deeply you’re sleeping. When you don’t do so much as twitch, he decides it’s safe enough. 

Carefully, Din removes his helmet with his hand that isn’t holding onto you. He doesn’t set it down, holding onto it in case he needs to quickly put it back on. Vision unobscured, he looks down at you wrapped around his body. Din finds himself dumbstruck.

That moment secures your position in his mind as the most beautiful thing in the whole of the galaxy. You look so peaceful, any worries wiped clean from your face. Your mouth is slightly open and although Din knows that means you’ll probably drool on him, he can’t bring himself to care. Your hair is a beautiful mess and Din thinks back to the one time he was able to touch it before, back on Rishi with you half-conscious from a concussion. He's really got to stop having these moments while you aren't awake.

Moving more cautiously than he ever has before, Din dips his head down and presses a gentle kiss against the top of your head. He whispers cyar’ika to you and dares to kiss you again. With one final look and a shaky breath, Din slips his helmet back on. He knows he’ll never get to sleep otherwise, far too tempted to spend the rest of his night just staring at you.

No longer using a taglist -- If you want alerts, this fic is available and gets updated on ao3 at the same time, so you can subscribe on there if you want to know when I update!

also going to be mushy here and say thank you to anyone who has sent me a message, left a comment, etc on this fic. It genuinely means the world to know that people are still reading and thinking about this fic 🥺💕

[tangylemonade]

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Agent!Choi San x afab reader

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• Just a little angst/fluff? I wrote. It’s meh and I was just watching bouncy and got inspired by SAN’s look. Kinda sort of but not really a ‘will they, won’t they’ moment. SAN’s a Secret agent or whatever in this.

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“How are you feeling?” You asked.

You had pulled the van over now that you felt you were far enough away. You couldn’t be too careful, not when they were still looking for him.

“I’ll live. You should see the other guys.” San replied with a chuckle before grimacing and holding his side.

You made sure your parking space was secure enough for the time being and climbed into the back of the van. After locating your first aid kit you sat down in front of him assessing the damage.

The Guild.

They weren’t the bad guys, but they weren’t necessarily the good ones either. They did the jobs no one had the guts to do.

San was their top agent who always got the job done. Their golden agent if you would. Coworkers called him Invincible Mountain.

There wasn’t a mission he couldn’t complete.

Only he wasn’t invincible.

You knew that best of all.

You were the one who picked him up after each mission. You were the one that saw his labored breathing while you bandaged him up. You were the one that wiped the sweat from his brow while he fought in his sleep, unable to rest after nights of running.

“I can’t believe they sent you alone.” You grumbled.

“It was a covert mission, stealth was most important.” He said calmly.

San could tell you were upset. He knew that you hated this job.

What he didn’t know was that the only reason you hadn’t quit was him.

“Where do you rank on that list of importance?” You said so low San almost didn’t hear you.

“It’s okay.” San said softly, steadying your now shaking arm. “I’m okay.”

You avoided eye contact as you worked.

“Hey,” He said gently lifting your chin so he could see your face. “Look at me.”

Looking into his soft eyes that we’re worried for you was too much. The tears fell and you angrily wiped them away.

“It’s not okay San. You're not a machine. How hard is it for them to send you some fucking backup!?”

You wanted to yell but knew it wasn’t fair to him so you gritted your teeth until they hurt.

Not wanting your mood to bother San, you took a deep breath. You still felt your face burning and quickly changed the subject.

“So, do you think you can eat? I brought you some porridge.”

San wasn’t sure if he would be able to stomach anything right now. This job… it didn't leave you with much of an appetite.

But as much as he didn’t want to eat he knew that you had taken time out of your crowded schedule to make it for him and just that thought made his heart pang with two many emotions he couldn’t afford to count.

So he sat up as straight as he could and gave you his best smile, dimples and all.

Your heart fluttered as it always did and you cursed the silly thoughts away.

San winced as he picked up the thermos of porridge, the movement straining the pain in his shoulder. You quickly stopped him.

“No No love, let me help you.” You said opening the container and pulling a spoon out of the bag you packed.

San could hardly think with the pain but the moment he heard you referred to him so tenderly he felt as if time had stopped. He couldn’t remember a time when you’d ever called him something like that, and definitely never so softly.

The porridge was still hot so you blew on it, testing it against your lip until it was cool enough before offering it to him. You hadn’t looked at him while you worked so when you finally did and saw a peculiar look on his bruised up beautiful face you couldn’t stop the blush that warmed your whole body.

You were glad the van was dim.

All San could do was watch as you prepared a bite of porridge for him with the tenderness that one would for a baby. It felt strange, someone caring for him in such a way. It wasn’t something he’d experienced with anyone.

Anyone except you.

When you looked up at him he couldn’t help gazing into your eyes as emotions rushed him.

Even through the dim light he knew you were blushing.

Your relationship had always been close in the oddest ways.

You would tell him how much you worried for him and missed him while he was busy. You would stay up late preparing meals for him. Sometimes on cold nights you would cuddle up next to him while you two slept.

He’d seen you in your casual clothes while you briefed him for a new mission.

Sometimes you didn’t even have a bra or pants on when he showed up late at night to the door of whatever hotel or cabin you were stationed in asking you to research something for him, but you never made an effort to cover up.

You’d seen him in all states and probably stitched up every inch of his body.

Everyone in the company knew you guys were inseparable which is why they would always send you when it came to dealing with him. After all, you were the only one he would tolerate.

You often drifted to sleep while you worked on the paperwork aspect of the job, resting on each other's shoulders.

To outsiders, there were no clear lines. To be honest, the lines were starting to feel insignificant to you two as well.

As San took a careful bite of the porridge you had so delicately prepared for him, a moment of quiet intimacy enveloped the two of you. The comforting taste squeezed at his heart. Feelings of gratitude and affection for you overwhelmed him.

It was hard to take another bite.

You continued on patching him up between almost forced bites. The stitches of a wound you’d closed up for him not too long ago had popped open. You restiched it along with a new one that now accompanied it.

Luckily this time no severely broken bones, only slight fractures that you bandaged tightly. The more you worked the hotter you became with rage but you did your best to swallow it down.

Suddenly, without too much of a thought, San reached out his hand and gently cupped your cheek, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that you hadn’t realized had fallen.

The air in the van grew heavy with the weight of unspoken hearts… the weight of unexpressed desires hanging between you.

"You know," San began, his voice soft and warm, "It never hurts when you’re the one that patches me up.”

Your voice trembled slightly as you replied, "San, you don’t have to act tough for me. You know that right?"

San's gaze never wavered as he continued in a whisper.

“This morning when you were late I realized something.”

You turned your head in shame, distraught with yourself for being late.

“I’m so sorry.” You said, swallowing to try and calm yourself.

San continued with a soft smile.

“A million possibilities raced through my mind and all I could do was pray that you were okay.”

“You and I are far too similar.” You said, a small smile tugging at the corner of your lips as you thought about the prayers you prayed on your way rushing to him.

“I realized as I layed in the cold trying my best to stay hidden that- that losing you is my only fear. "

You blinked, completely caught off guard by his words.

“How- why would you lose me?” You said, unsure of how to respond.

You wanted to look away but his eyes had a way of holding yours. “Stop saying ridiculous things and finish eating.

Having finished your work you backed away from him leaning against the opposite wall of the van. You tried to take slow breaths to calm your pounding heart hoping he wouldn’t notice.

When that wouldn’t work you looked back at him with a frown.

“What do you mean by saying that?” You whispered, almost afraid to speak at all.

You squinting in the low light in an attempt to better see every nuance of his now pensive face.

San shook his head.

“I know how wrong I am to say this… I-I need you to stay strong for me.” He replied, his eyes now glued to nothing in particular on the floor. “I don’t know how much of this I can take if you’re not here to bring me home.”

Home? San didn’t have a place that an onlooker would refer to as a home. You’d pretty much seen him sleep anywhere.

Now in the back of a cold and dark old van as you saw his eyes slow with tiredness.

Why did it feel so safe here?

Just the two of you.

“What home San? That’s not really a luxury we’re allowed.” You asked quietly as the depression of the thought gripped you.

But San never noticed the absence of a bed to sleep on or a roof over his head.

He only noticed the absence of you.

San reached out his hand and you took it without thinking too much, allowing it to anchor you, cradling you from despair.

He gently pulled you towards him and you didn’t fight the urge to rest your tired body against his. He held you as close as he could without hurting himself.

“But you know y/n…” San whispered, his chin resting atop your head where he had placed a kiss so softly you wondered if you imagined it.

You laid still, listening to his heart beat, calm and steady..

You felt the tension ease out of you as his heart showed yours how to rest.

He was alive. He was safe. More and more you were feeling that that was truly all that mattered.

In that rickety old van, far away from prying eyes and the chaos of your worlds, you found solace in each other's arms.

“…You are my home.”

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[spookwyrdie]

👋🏻 heyyy so I was watching some of Skz old content and I kinda noticed how shy Seungmin gets when he's made to do something like dance alone in front of everyone or do aegyo or something. And I'm a huge fan of sub Minnie🤤 so I was wondering if you'd be open to write a fic where he's made to wear a remote controlled vibrator on his cock (and maybe one in his ass too😉) out in public or to dance practice or something that means it'd be a while before he gets to go back home and reader just playing with him and teasing him throughout the whole thing and maybe asking one of the members to record his reactions and send it to you. And like what if Minnie knew that the others were aware of his ✨ predicament ✨ and he's even more embarrassed, trying to keep quiet and act unaffected but you and him both know hes wayy to sensitive for that. 🤭🤭 Just love how red his face and ears get when he's shy or flustered. You're my fav smut author here and I ADORE🥰 your sub skz fics soo much and I'd really love to read this idea in your writing but it's okay if you don't want to. Have a good day/afternoon/night❤️😘

Anon! When I say I thought about this all day, I mean I thought about this ALL DAY.

Here it is!

Only Wanna Be With You~

sub!Seungmin x domme!reader

warnings: smut, sexual content, exhibitionism, public play, vibrators, edging

summary: You and Seungmin hang out at a karaoke bar to unwind, but you have a plan for him. Can he keep his cool in public?

word: 1.5k

a/n: I laughed very hard when Seungmin did this cover at one of their concerts, so I obviously had to add it. I also was thinking about a vibe like this one, in case anyone was curious. <3

You look up from your position on your knees, Seungmin’s cock in your hand as you adjust the cock ring to fit snugly against his groin, “I’m going to ask for the thousandth time, are you sure about this, Minnie?” 

“Y/n, I might be a little nervous but like... I think this’ll be fun.” A blush dusts his cheeks, thinking about handing over such an intimate type of control in public. He’s wearing a silicone cock ring with a vibrator that sits up against his perineum. Just knowing that it's there plus the constant light pressure is enough to twitch against the silicone.  

“Okay, you remember what we talked about, if you want to stop?” 

“Yeah, I snap my fingers at least 3 times,” he says. 

“Good,” you stand, taking his balls in one hand and pressing the motionless vibrator up towards his perineum. He grunts in surprise, the gentle squeeze is enough to have his hips bucking towards you, his hands grab your shoulders to steady his weight. 

You two have been getting together for a few weeks now, learning what the other likes, talking about boundaries, and what sorts of kink you’re both interested in trying. This is one of the first nights where you’re testing the waters, seeing how a little secret exhibitionism feels for him.  

The two of you arrive at the dive bar where you meet the rest of the guys. Celebrating the end of the semester, you all decided a shitty little dive bar on a karaoke night would be a great way to let off some steam. When you walk in, Hyunjin waves you over.  

“We got one of the best booths in the whole place!” he shouts over someone butchering a Lady Gaga song. You slide in next to Hyunjin, Seungmin pressed up against your side. The tablet at the table with a drink list and the karaoke sign-up sheet is shoved in front of your face.  

“Pick one! Everyone is required to do at least one song!” Han shouts over the table. “I’ll buy you a drink if you do something sexy!” 

“You’ll have to buy me a drink BEFORE I do a sexy song!” you laugh.  

You peruse the drink list, grab a couple of beers for you and Seungmin, and mull over the list of songs. Seungmin tries to look over your shoulder while you choose, but you cover the screen with your hand. You give him a playful smile and pass the tablet to him, running your hand up his thigh as he chooses his song.  

Han’s name flashes up on the screen, “Oh shit, MY TURN!” He bounds up to the little stage, pulls the microphone out of the stand, and “Pony” by Ginuwine starts playing. Han is living it up, hip thrusting and doing body rolls, while the table laughs. You sneak your phone out of your pocket and open the app for the remote control. 

Seungmin’s whole body lurches forward as if being electrocuted, his moan covered by the bass from the song. The vibrations shudder through him so hard, the shock from not giving him a warning makes his cock twitch in time with his heartbeat. He grabs your free hand and clamps it in his, rutting his hips into the worn pleather seat below him. Each roll of his hips presses the vibrator further into the sensitive area behind his balls. His head rolls onto your shoulder, whining into your neck. 

“I’ve barely turned the thing on, baby, and you’re already such a mess,” you chuckle in his ear. Pressing a gentle kiss to his cheek as he squirms in his seat. You look across the table, catching Changbin’s eyes as he appraises your situation. He gives you a knowing smirk. 

“Seungmin!” he calls out. Seungmin’s head snaps up, a panicked look in his eyes. “What song did you pick?” 

“I- I picked...” he slams his eyes shut as you amp up the vibrations. The way his face contorts, biting his lip to keep his moans from spilling out, has you salivating.  

You turn your head towards Changbin, meeting his smirk with one of your own, “You’ll just have to wait until it’s his turn to find out.” 

After a few minutes toying with Seungmin, you turn off the vibrator. Your name flashes up on the screen, and you shoo him out of the way to go up for your song. Seungmin’s legs are like jelly, so it takes him a moment to get his bearings.  

You go up to the little stage and your song starts playing. As the intro plays, you notice the boys leering at Seungmin, poking fun at the very obvious hard time he’s having. He looks up at you as you start singing, and you hold his gaze. 

Going with tonight’s theme, you chose a sexy song - “I Touch Myself” by the Divinyls. It’s true, you don’t want anyone else, you sing directly at Seungmin. He’s blushing for a different reason, his jaw on the floor as you confidently sway your hips and run your hands down your body while you sing a song about masturbation directly to your boy and his new little toy.  

During the guitar solo, you fish your phone out of your pocket again and turn on the vibrator again. This time, you take your thumb and match the beat of your song with as you play with the intensity of the vibrations. Seungmin looks like he’s trying to catch his breath, leaning back into the cushion of the booth again, his hands balled into fists on the table. The rest of the boys are chuckling at him, Felix going so far as to whip out his phone and snap a few photos of Seungmin’s agony. 

Your song ends and you turn off the vibrator again, shooting Seungmin a devilish smile. The entire table cheers louder than the rest of the bar. You mosey back over to your table, and you get an eyeful of exactly how red Seungmin has gotten. His ears are so bright, and his cheeks look like they’ve been slapped. You run your fingers through his hair and bend down to whisper in his ear, “Your turn, baby.” 

He looks up at you in confusion, his eyes practically glazed over. You peck him on the lips then point to the stage where the screen is flashing his name. You grab his arm and pull him out of his seat. He wobbles a bit as you push him towards the stage. He grabs the mic stand to steady himself as his song starts. 

“Hootie and the Blowfish?” The whole table giggles at his 90’s soft rock choice. Seungmin glares at the table as he catches your eye. He sings directly to you, adding a little snark to the lyrics. You look back at him, tongue running over your teeth as you hold up your phone again. His eyes go wide. 

“There’s nothin’ I can do, I only wanna be with yo- Uuuungh" he groans out as you turn the vibe up to the highest setting all at once. Somehow, he still finds his singing voice enough to continue the song. Sometimes his voice shakes a little when you bounce the intensity up and down on his vibe, an outline of his cock visible in his dark pants. His cheeks and ears are blazing red, his eyes flutter with arousal and concentration. You can tell he’s holding back, focusing on keeping his hips still. You still notice him convulse every few seconds, his pelvis jerking forward at the change in the vibrator’s speed.  

During the last part of the chorus, you turn the vibe all the way back up and Seungmin literally falls to his knees, masking his moan as the final note to sing. The bar cheers, especially your table, stomping their feet at his performance. He places the mic back on the stand and walks back to the table trembling.  

You're beaming with pride as you watch him return to the booth, unsteady on his feet. He stops right in front of you, grabs your arms and pulls you up, wrapping you in his embrace. He pulls you tight to his body, crashing his lips to yours, engulfing you in a kiss. You barely hear the other boys cooing at you, making kissy noises in your direction. 

“Home. Now. I need you,” he pants out, pressing his cock into your thigh.  

“Aw, Minnie, you’re so worked up,” you say as you lean your forehead against his. Your phone is still in your hand. You take your thumb, moving the intensity of the vibe back up. Seungmin buries his face in your neck, muffling the guttural cry that rips out of his throat as his hips thrust into your thigh. 

“GET A ROOM!” everyone at the table shouts.  

You grip onto the back of Seungmin’s hair, pulling his face gently away from your neck. Tears welling up in his lashes. He just looks so pathetic, eyes pleading for release. 

“Alright, let’s get you home,” you say as you smile sweetly and turn off the vibe. He sags in your arms. You lift his head once again, kissing him so gently. 

“That doesn’t mean I’m finished with you yet.” 

[mischievoushiddleston]

I Miss You (Chenford)

Warnings: Smut, Rough Sex, Oral Sex (Male& Female)

Masterlist here!

'I miss you...' Lucy typed slowly into the text field of her smartphone. Her fingers lingered hesitantly over the keyboard as she stared at the words. A heavy lump formed in her throat and her thumb hovered over the send button.

But then she shook her head vigorously and deleted the message with an angry sigh. The screen went blank, and with it her short-lived hope. It was a habit she simply couldn't break. Every evening, when the silence of her apartment caught up with her, she felt this urgent desire to write to Tim. And every evening it became harder to resist the temptation.

Frustrated, Lucy dropped her cell phone on the sofa next to her and stroked her hair. She leaned back and stared at the ceiling as memories of him flooded her like a tide. His laugh, his deep, soothing timbre, the way he looked at her when he thought she didn't notice... She missed him. More than she wanted to admit to herself.

At the station, she had firmly resolved to remain professional. But there was an unspoken tension in his gaze, his closeness, that tested her self-control time and again. Lucy couldn't stop her thoughts from returning again and again to the nights when she had been so close to him - so close that she had forgotten everything else around her.

A soft knock on the door snapped her out of her thoughts. Surprised, she turned her head. It was late and she wasn't expecting anyone. With an uneasy feeling in her chest, she got up and opened the door.

"Tim?" Her voice was barely more than a whisper.

He stood in front of her, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his leather jacket, the familiar, determined expression on his face - and yet somehow he seemed more vulnerable than usual. "I didn't mean to... I didn't want to disturb you," he began, hesitant as he rarely was. "But... I couldn't take any more."

Lucy's heartbeat quickened as she stared at him. His eyes revealed more than words ever could. She knew he had missed her as much as she had missed him.

"Why now?" she asked softly, even though she already knew the answer.

He took a step closer, the distance between them disappearing. "Because I've finally stopped telling myself I can manage without you."

The tension between them was palpable, the air literally crackling with unspoken feelings. Before Lucy could think any further, she felt his hand on her cheek, warm and firm, and then there was just the pressure of his lips on hers.

It was a kiss that said everything they hadn't dared to say in the last few months. His hands slid into her hair, pulling her closer as she clung to him as if she might otherwise lose him again.

"Tim..." she murmured against his lips, but he interrupted her with a harsh whisper, "Don't say anything. Please."

He gently pushed her back into the apartment, closed the door behind him and looked at her with an intensity that took her breath away. His hands found the hem of her shirt, slowly pushing the fabric up as his lips traveled along her neck. Each kiss burned into her skin like a promise, each breath between them grew heavier.

His hands slid slowly over her body, exploring every curve with a tenderness that left Lucy breathless. His fingers stroked the soft fabric beneath her breasts before he gently but firmly gripped her hips and pushed her against the cool wall beside the front door. The movement was demanding, but never too rough - as if he wanted to possess her completely while making sure she wanted it just as much.

Lucy's hands wandered over the fabric of his shirt, which clung to his muscular chest. She could feel the warmth of his body underneath, the steady rhythm of his heartbeat that seemed to merge with her own. Her touch was hungry, almost desperate, as if she wanted to erase all the months without him with it.

Tim's lips found her neck, traveling slowly along the sensitive skin. With a light nibble on a spot she knew all too well, he elicited a soft gasp from her. Her breathing became erratic, her knees almost gave way and she would have lost her balance if his hands hadn't continued to support her body.

"We shouldn't," she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper. But the quiet protest in her words lost all credibility as her fingers buried themselves in his neck and she only pulled him closer.

"I know..." he murmured hoarsely, his voice rough with desire. But his hands spoke a different language as he slipped her shirt over her head with a single, deft tug. The fabric fell silently to the floor, and the next second his lips were on her cleavage, exploring the delicate skin with kisses so hot and intense that Lucy felt a shiver run down her spine.

His hands followed his lips, running over her sides, down her waist, before pausing, as if he wanted to hold on for any moment. "Tell me when to stop," he whispered, leaning his forehead against hers. But Lucy only shook her head slightly, her eyes dark with desire.

"Don't stop," she finally managed to get out before she reunited his lips with hers. In that moment, there was no more doubt, no more restraint. Just the heat between them, the sizzle in the air and the inescapable truth that they had never really let go of each other.

The kiss was passionate, almost hungry, as if they wanted to make up for the time they had spent apart with every touch. Tim's hands stroked gently over her waist, up to the curves below her breasts. His fingers hovered there for a moment, as if to capture the warmth of her skin, before he deftly reached back. With a routine movement, he undid her bra, pulled the straps off her shoulders and let the garment slide to the floor.

He broke the kiss, his breathing heavy and uneven as he looked at her. His gaze slid over her exposed torso, admiring and suffused with a desire that made his blue eyes appear darker. There was an unmistakable intensity in his expression, a quiet promise that took Lucy's breath away.

"You're so beautiful," he murmured hoarsely before leaning forward and letting his lips trail over her delicate skin. He left hot, demanding kisses along her collarbone, her chest, until he finally paused. His tongue brushed lightly over her nipple before he took it into his mouth, sucking, teasing, while his hand gently grasped the other breast and kneaded it tenderly.

Lucy couldn't help but drop her head against the cool wall behind her. A soft moan escaped her lips, her fingers found purchase in his hair, pulling him closer as a warm shiver ran through her body. It was as if every touch drew her deeper into a sea of pleasure and oblivion, and she wanted nothing more than to stay in this moment.

"Tim..." she whispered breathlessly, his name a confession on her lips.

He lifted his head, looking at her as a mischievous smile played around his lips. "I'm not stopping, Lucy. Not tonight."

The words seemed to break the last of her restraint. With a soft gasp, she pulled him to her again, wrapping her arms around his neck and letting the heat of his body press her against the wall. Her lips found his again, the kiss even more passionate this time, even more demanding - an unmistakable sign that she wanted the same thing as him.

Lucy's desire became more and more urgent. Her fingers found the hem of his shirt and, without hesitation, she pushed it up. Tim understood immediately and pulled it over his head in one swift movement, the fabric falling carelessly to the floor. As soon as he was free, he pulled her towards him again, their bodies pressed against each other, skin on skin, the heat between them almost palpable.

But this time it was Lucy who took control. She placed her hands on his chest and pushed him backwards with a gentle push until his back touched the wall behind him. With a demanding look, she leaned forward and let her lips roam over his bare chest. Her kisses were gentle but purposeful, her tongue leaving a hot trail on his skin.

When she reached a sensitive spot on his collarbone, she playfully ran her teeth over it, eliciting a soft, raspy gasp from Tim. Her hands continued to explore his upper body, sliding over the firm muscles of his chest down to his stomach, where they paused briefly. She felt his breathing quicken as she moved lower and a soft, satisfied smile stole onto her lips.

Her fingers finally reached his crotch, where his erection was clearly pressing against the fabric of his pants. With a mixture of curiosity and intent, she stroked it gently, her movements slow and provocative, eliciting a deep moan from Tim. His head fell back slightly against the wall, his hands finding her hips as if he wanted to hold on to her while she pushed him further to the edge of self-control with every touch.

"Are you going to go again?" she asked softly, her voice barely more than a whisper, but the challenge in it was unmistakable.

Tim opened his eyes, now dark with desire, and looked at her urgently. "Not if I can help it," he murmured, his voice rough and broken with lust.

But Lucy didn't let up. Her fingers continued their gentle, teasing movements as her lips landed on his neck again. "That's not enough," she whispered, pressing her teeth lightly against his skin before running her tongue over it again.

Tim gasped, his hands gripping her hips tighter. "I swear, Lucy," he began hoarsely, pulling her back up to him with a sudden jerk so that their faces were only inches apart, "I'll never leave."

His words sounded like a vow, and Lucy could read the sincerity in his eyes. Her lips found his again, the kiss intense and full of passion as she gave herself completely to him.

Lucy's hands slowly moved to his waistband, her movements deliberately slow to further build the tension between them. She maintained eye contact as she undid the button on his trousers and slowly pulled the zipper down. The soft sound seemed to make the already charged atmosphere even more intense.

Tim's eyes were dark with desire and he watched her closely as she took control. His chest rose and fell heavily, but he held back and let her. With a gentle tug, Lucy slid his pants down over his hips, revealing more of him bit by bit before she finally sank to her knees.

Her breath brushed his body, making him shiver slightly as she began to place gentle kisses along his firm thighs. Her hands slid over the skin on his hips as her lips slowly worked their way higher. As she kissed the growing hardness of his cock through the fabric of his boxers, she could hear the soft, raspy gasp that left his throat.

"Lucy," he breathed, her touch seemingly both agony and release for him. His voice was hoarse, full of passion and unspoken pleading.

She looked up at him, her eyes twinkling mischievously as she placed her fingers on the waistband of his boxer shorts. Slowly, she pulled the fabric down, freeing him completely. The tension in the air between them was almost palpable as Lucy reached out and gently grasped his hand, touching the top with a kiss.

A low, guttural sound escaped Tim, his hands clenched at his sides as he watched her plan her next move. Her lips brushed against him again, soft and playful, before she circled the tip with her tongue, tasting the salty tingle of his desire.

Lucy's movements were calm, almost agonizingly slow, her intention clear: she wanted to drive him completely insane. His head fell back slightly, but his eyes kept wandering back to her, as if he couldn't stop looking at her.

"You're driving me crazy," he murmured, his voice little more than a growl, eliciting a satisfied smile from Lucy.

Lucy's lips slowly encircled him, her movements deliberate as she took more of him into her mouth. She took her time, feeling the gentle pulsing of his cock against her tongue as she let him penetrate deeper, bit by bit, until he filled her mouth completely. Her hand grasped the part of him she couldn't reach and began to tease him further with gentle, rhythmic movements.

The taste of him, the heat of his body and the soft, rough sounds he made made her focus on him even more devotedly. With half-closed eyes, she looked up at him, seeking his gaze as she slowly began to move her head.

Tim looked at her, his chest rising and falling in deep breaths. His hand slid gently into her hair, his fingers burying themselves in the soft strands, but he exerted no pressure. He let her take control, let her set the pace - and enjoyed every single movement, every moment she touched him in this way.

"Lucy..." he murmured, his voice rough and full of unspoken emotion. The sound of his name on her lips, the way her tongue teased him and the uninterrupted eye contact almost robbed him of his composure.

Lucy paused briefly, letting her tongue glide playfully over his most sensitive spot, before taking him deep into her mouth again. Her head began to move faster, a steady rhythm that drew him deeper into pleasure. The soft moans coming from his throat only made her more devoted.

His grip in her hair tightened, not to take control, but to anchor himself to her as he let the wave of sensations roll over him. "You're incredible," he whispered breathlessly, his words almost lost in another deep moan.

Lucy's tongue slid slowly, almost pleasurably, over his cock, her movements so sensual that Tim could barely hold a clear thought. But then she paused, let it slip out of her mouth briefly and looked up at him with dark, demanding eyes.

"Take control," she breathed, her voice barely more than a whisper, but the words were laced with a demanding intensity that took away the last of his restraint.

Without hesitation, she let him slide back into her mouth, willingly and with abandon. Tim sensed the invitation in her posture, saw the trust in her gaze, and it was as if he was given the final push to give in to his own needs. His hand buried itself more firmly in her hair as he began to slowly move his hips forward.

Each thrust was controlled, but increasingly intense, as if he was studying her reactions carefully so as not to overwhelm her. But Lucy made no pretense of restraint - quite the opposite. She matched his rhythm, letting him slide deeper, her tongue continued to play with him, and the low, contented hum emanating from her vibrated through him, driving him even closer to the edge of madness.

"Lucy..." he gasped, his voice husky and full of desire. His fingers stroked through her hair, holding her tight as he increased the rhythm. The heat in his body built up, becoming more and more unbearable until he finally felt he couldn't hold out much longer.

"I'm coming," he warned quietly, almost pleadingly, as if he wanted to prepare her. But Lucy didn't answer, she just pressed herself tighter against him, her fingers digging into the muscles of his thighs as she took him as deeply as she could. Her abandonment broke every restraint in him, and a deep, guttural moan escaped him as he climaxed.

He felt every tension in him release as waves of relief and ecstasy ran through his body. Lucy continued to hold him in her mouth, taking it all in without letting go of him for even a moment. Her tongue brushed gently over him, as if to comfort him, while he had to brace himself against the wall to keep from losing control of his body.

Slowly, she let it slip out of her mouth, looked up at him and wiped her mouth with a playful gesture. "I think that was just what we both needed," she said softly with a slight smile, her voice full of satisfaction.

"It might have been... but I haven't had enough," Tim murmured in a raspy voice that vibrated with desire. With a firm but gentle grip, he pulled Lucy up, his lips finding hers in a slow, intimate kiss. The taste of her devotion, mixed with a hint of himself, sent an intoxicating warmth coursing through him.

As he led her towards her bedroom, his hands did not remain idle. He deftly undid the buttons of her trousers, pulled the zipper down and let the garment slide to the floor along with her panties. Now she stood completely exposed before him, her body flawless and tempting in the soft light of the room.

"What now?" Lucy asked, her voice teasing as her fingers tenderly stroked his chest, which was still rising and falling under his deep breaths.

Tim paused for a moment, his eyes traveling over her body, before he instructed her in a soft but firm tone, "Lie down on the bed... And spread your legs."

A mischievous smile played around Lucy's lips, but she obeyed without hesitation. She lowered herself onto the soft sheets, moved to the middle of the bed and slowly opened her legs so that she was fully exposed to him. Her hands lightly stroked her own body, her fingers played with her breasts and wandered down over her waist before sliding to her center.

"I'm so wet for you," she whispered, her voice heavy with lust. Her fingers found her entrance and she let out a soft, pleasurable sound as she slid a finger inside her. Her back arched slightly, her eyes searching his as she offered him this intimate display.

Tim watched her, his breathing became heavier and a deep, throaty growl escaped his throat. The sight drove him to the edge of his self-control. Without another word, he lowered himself towards her, the bed giving way slightly under his weight as he positioned himself between her legs.

Lucy held her breath, her hand pulling back as she felt his lips approach her most sensitive spot. Then she felt it - his tongue, warm and demanding, sliding slowly over her wet heat. She moaned loudly, her hands seeking purchase in the sheets as he pleasured her with a devotion that almost overwhelmed her.

"T-Tim..." she gasped out, her voice trembling as he continued to work her with his mouth. His hands held her hips as if he wanted her right there, while his tongue traced deeper, more seductive circles.

Lucy's head fell back on the pillow, her body quivering beneath him, and she knew she didn't want to - or couldn't - resist the control he had over her.

Tim showed no sign of hurrying as he continued to pleasure Lucy with his tongue. His every move was deliberate, as if he was studying her reactions carefully to find out what she enjoyed most. His tongue slid slowly and sensually over her sensitive skin before sliding deeper and pressing into her wet entrance. He felt her twitch beneath him, a soft, demanding moan escaping her lips as her fingers buried themselves firmly in his hair as if to pull him even closer.

Her hips moved slightly, seeking more contact, more pressure, and Tim gave her exactly what she needed. His tongue pushed deeper into her, twisting playfully before she pulled back again to make room for his fingers. With a gentle but firm touch, his fingers slid over her sensitive heat, teasing her further as he returned his attention to her clitoris.

When he finally closed his lips around the sensitive spot and began to suck lightly on it, Lucy gasped out loud. Her back arched under the intense sensation coursing through her body, her hands pulled harder on his hair and her legs trembled slightly as she opened herself even wider to him.

One finger slid slowly inside her, penetrating deep before curving slightly, finding the exact spot inside her that was almost driving her insane. "Oh God, Tim..." she moaned, her voice full of lust and devotion.

He moved his finger in a rhythmic beat, pulling it back only to thrust it deep inside her again as his tongue continued to tease her clitoris. The interplay of pressure and movement made Lucy's breathing quicken, her hands released from his hair and reached for the sheets beneath her, which she clenched tightly in her fists.

"You're so perfect," Tim murmured hoarsely between movements, his voice full of awe and desire as he continued to drive her towards her climax.

Tim didn't let up, his movements becoming even more purposeful as he felt Lucy's body becoming more and more restless. Her breathing was rapid and uneven, her legs began to tremble slightly and her fingers dug deeper and deeper into the sheets. His tongue continued to play over her most sensitive spot as his finger moved inside her, keeping the perfect rhythm to bring her closer and closer to the edge of ecstasy. 

"Tim... I..." she gasped, her voice trembling as her head fell back and she lost control of her movements. "I'm coming..." 

With a final, deep thrust of his finger and a gentle, forceful suck on her clit, Lucy was overwhelmed by a wave of pleasure. Her back arched violently, a loud, guttural sound escaping her as she surrendered to her climax. Her body shook beneath him and Tim held her tight, his fingers and tongue keeping her climax going for as long as possible before he finally stopped. 

He gently withdrew, letting his tongue glide over her once more before slowly pushing himself up. His gaze wandered over her body, which was still trembling from the after-effects of her orgasm. Lucy's eyes were half closed, her face flushed and she looked like the most beautiful mess he had ever seen. 

He moved closer, bent over her, propped his arms next to her head and gently slid his body against hers. His cock pressed hard and demanding against her warm, wet pussy, but he held back, savoring the moment of her closeness. 

"You're breathtaking," he whispered hoarsely, his lips found hers and he kissed her deeply, passionately, with a devotion that no words could describe. She tasted herself on his lips, which only heightened her own arousal. Her arms wrapped around his neck and she pulled him closer, their bodies pressed tightly together. 

Lucy's hips thrust impatiently against him, a slight tremor running through her body as her fingers stroked his bare skin. Her breathing quickened as she breathed against his lips in a trembling voice: "Tim... I want you."

A low, raspy growl vibrated in his chest as he moved closer to her, increasing the pressure between them. His hands slid over her sides, exploring her with a slowness that nearly drove her insane. "You'll have me, Lucy," he murmured, his lips brushing her throat, his breath hot on her skin. "But not until I'm sure you're ready to take whatever I want to give you."

"I'm ready," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath as she pressed herself against him. Her legs opened a little wider, silently begging for more. He didn't take long to comply-his tip found its way, slowly sliding inside her and making them both moan.

A throaty moan escaped her lips as he slid deep inside her until he filled her completely. Her body tensed briefly, only to relax again the next moment under his familiar pressure. Lucy had missed this feeling-the sweet stretch, the burning heat and the deep closeness that only he could give her.

Tim paused for a moment, letting her feel every millimeter of him before he withdrew agonizingly slowly. Her fingernails dug lightly into his shoulders as she jerked against him, lifting her hips demandingly as he thrust into her again. A soft gasp escaped her as he went deeper, tighter, their bodies fitting together perfectly.

Lucy clung to him tighter, her fingernails digging deep into his shoulders, a silent plea for more. The slight pain made him inhale sharply before a dark growl escaped his throat. His movements became harder, more demanding, as if her touch had unleashed something inside him.

"Don't hold back," she gasped, her voice full of desire and devotion. Her words finally shattered his last restraint. Tim looked at her with a burning gaze, his breathing rough and uneven as he pushed himself deeper into her. A hoarse moan escaped him as he increased his pace-hard, rhythmic and relentless.

Lucy's body shook beneath him, her moans growing louder as he drove her higher with every movement. Her nails left marks on his skin, but he paid them no mind-all that mattered was the rush that engulfed them both.

Tim rolled his pelvis in deep, powerful movements, hitting the exact spot that made her tremble each time, while his pelvic bone rubbed over her sensitive clitoris with every thrust. Lucy's breathing was intermittent, her hips lifted towards him, demanding and in time with his movements. Heat built up inside her, running through her body in waves as her moans grew louder and louder.

Tim was panting harshly, his own rhythm becoming increasingly uncontrolled. He lowered himself onto her, supporting himself with his forearms next to her head so that she could feel the full weight of his body. His hot breath brushed her skin as he thrust deeper and harder into her.

Lucy's fingernails dug into his back, her body quivering beneath him, caught between pleasure and the inevitable climax. She knew that tomorrow her body would feel him with every movement-every touch a burning echo of this moment.

Tim felt Lucy quiver beneath him, her fingernails sinking deeper into his skin as her hips arched desperately towards him. But he gave her no respite-no escape. With a dark growl, he grabbed her wrists, pushed her over her head against the mattress and held her there.

"Stay right there," he murmured in her ear, his voice rough and full of possessiveness. "I'll decide when you cum."

Lucy's eyes widened briefly and a soft whimper escaped her as his words passed through her. But she obeyed. Her legs opened wider for him as he pushed himself deeper into her, his thrusts now harder and faster.

He watched her every reaction-the way her lips quivered, the way her back arched as he drove her body to the edge again. She could barely hold it back, her whole body tensing beneath him.

"Tell me who you belong to," he demanded as he ground his hips against her, each movement a thrust that brought them closer.

"You, Tim... only you!" she moaned, her voice torn between lust and devotion.

He rewarded her with an even harder thrust and she broke beneath him. Her body jerked violently as the climax gripped her, waves of ecstasy made her scream, but he didn't let up.

Tim held her tight, riding out her tremors, forcing her to endure the sensations with each successive thrust until her body shuddered again. "One more time," he commanded, his voice a hoarse rumble. "You can do it."

She did. Her body obeyed him, even as the overstimulation brought her to the brink of despair. She came again, with a loud gasp that finally drove him to the edge.

Tim felt her muscles tighten around him, holding him tighter, and his own moans erupted from him. He gripped her hips and thrust deep into her one last time before finally releasing. His body jerked as he came inside her, hot and powerful as he gasped her name.

He lowered himself heavily onto her, his breath hot on her neck as their bodies still quivered. Lucy clung to him, feeling his warmth and the throbbing of their joined bodies as she slowly caught her breath.

"I love you," he breathed, his voice softer now, though the dominant fire still blazed in his eyes. His touch became gentler as his fingers stroked lovingly over her heated skin.

As he looked into her eyes, Lucy raised a hand and gently stroked his cheek, her gaze as tender as it was demanding. "This is the only chance you'll get. Do you understand?" Her voice was soft but firm-a sweet contrast to the devotion still on her features.

A brief smile twitched across his lips before he leaned down and kissed her gently, as if to remove any lingering uncertainty. "Understood," he murmured against her lips as his hand slid over her waist, promising that it was far from over.

 

A/N Did you see the teaser for the seventh season yesterday? I did at least a few thousand times🔥😅

[rocksibblingsau]

We had several asks discussing and asking about Funk Branch/Lownote Jones, but never for the other Branchs... So, if you're to be so inclined, Branch/LJ (we need a better ship name tbh) dynamics for some of the different AUs? Pretty please *batting my eyelashes*?

Rock Branch: They meet during the "world tour" arc. I can't get into how they actually MEET but Lownote is intrigued by him. Branch isn't sure why this objectively cool guy is hanging around him but he's not about to complain. His friends are definitely going to tease him about it though.

Since Rock Trolls tend to not establish they're in a relationship, Lownote (trying to do things the Rock Troll way) decides that they're dating. He didn't exactly do it right, there's a lot of nuance, which Val calls him out on.

"No you didn't do it right, you suck at this."

Lownote's actually pretty good at adapting to the other tribes, so he's also popular with Rock Trolls, but in a 'Woah the prince's boyfriend is so cool' kind of way. The tabloids also agree that Lownote is Branch's boyfriend. Branch is still not aware of this.

Techno Branch: Laguna is discussing the Techno tribe's defenses and many of the Funk Trolls are interested in the Troll who made them. They go visit Techno Reef and Branch is in the middle of trying to make a portable rave.

It catches on fire.

Underwater.

Branch is thrilled that people want to see his defenses. He shows off all the traps and censors he has. While not nearly as advanced as what Funk has, they're impressed because they know the other tribes have less technology than them. Lownote invites Branch to a Funk lab.

Thing is, there's one huge difference between Techno labs and Funk labs, which is gravity. Branch is used to just setting things down in the water around him and after about five broken test tubes they catch on that it's a huge adjustment. Lownote thinks it's cute though.

Classical Branch: He's immediately charmed by Lownote the way most people are. He does what he never thought he'd have the courage to do and sends Lownote a wedding proposal. Lownote turns him down and Branch is of course a bit disappointed and embarrassed but he goes on about his day.

Thing is, Lownote gets proposed to a lot. To the point he forgot that's how Classical Trolls ask someone out.

(I imagine this somehow gets out to the Classical Trolls and it's QUITE outrageous to them that THE Branch Chrysostomus Trollzart sent Lownote a proposal and he turned HIM DOWN???!!! Does the man have no taste?! No one has EVER gotten such a letter before and it was WASTED on a Troll who does not understand what he is missing out on)

Lownote actually does think Branch is pretty cool, but he's not into the Trolls who are TOO big of fans of his. I can't blame him, dating a superfan would be very weird. I think he elects to talk to Dante about it, who has a lot to say. Lownote gets out that he's kinda interested in Branch before Dante interrupts him.

"Interested? My dear friend the only interesting thing is your absolutely heartless reply to Branch's proposal! And now you have the audacity to say you are interested in him? Does your heart secretly harbor only the most cruelest of desires?! The shame you have brought to him is only matched by the shame you brought to yourself in the same stroke of a pen!"

Lownote is very confused until Dante explains that Branch asked Lownote out in Classical and Lownote's reply, while very kind to anyone looking from the other 5 tribes, was the classical equivalent to going 'ew why would you think you had a chance', and it was ONLY because Branch has experience with other tribes that he didn't take it to mean that.

Lownote drafts another reply/apology, this time with Dante looking over his shoulder, where he explains that he misunderstood the proposal and he's actually very interested if Branch would have him.