#if anything this would make more sense since house got his keys taken away

[averagesawfan]

you ever think what would've happened if amber and house switched places.

amber wakes up after the bus crash at Princeton Plainsboro with a higher blood alcohol level then she should've. Wilson asks "why, I won't be mad just why" and she can't remember...

[lloydskywalkers]

drywall

went to go work on raising hell and ended up missing Skylor, so!! I will always have so many emotions about s8/9 and the aftermath of it, here's another gallon of them.

Two months after they’ve taken back the city and the street lights are finally starting to work again, Lloyd shows up at the restaurant an hour past closing time, sporting a spectacular bruise and enough blood across his gi to make the Ninjago City Blood Drive team’s day. 

“Hi, Sky.” Lloyd waltzes — or attempts to, it’s more of a stumbling collapse — right in as if nothing’s amiss in the slightest. “Sorry, I’m, uh. Was in the neighborhood and I wasn’ sure…where else t’ go.”

Skylor, still frozen over a stained tabletop with her dishtowel in hand, stares at him. 

All things considered, she should be fully prepared for something like this. It should practically be in her restaurant’s training manual, that at some point you’ll end up confronted with a bloody, half-dead ninja in your door. But given how slow the past few weeks have been, coupled with the sheer exhaustion of dealing with the lunch rush and the dinner rush and the late-night somewhat-inebriated people rush, her guard is apparently down enough to leave her reacting with a simple, useless, “Oh god.”

“Tha’s my grandfather,” Lloyd says. There’s blood at the corner of his mouth — coupled with the bruising, Skylor thinks (hopes) it’s simply from split skin or a bitten cheek, instead of crippling internal bleeding. 

Crippling internal bleeding is enough of a concern to finally spur her into action, dropping her towel and rushing over to help Lloyd finish stumbling through the door. She spares a moment of thanks, that there’s even a door at all — repairs in the city have been slow, since Harumi’s brief reign of terror, and the insurance provider is still holding out on her. 

But the door was a good thing to prioritize, she thinks, bolting it firmly behind them. 

“Sorry, again,” Lloyd murmurs. His jaw is working in the tight way it does when he’s biting back pain, his bottom lip bruised and bleeding. Skylor’s stomach twists. 

You’d think, after all she’s been through, she’d be more accustomed to seeing the people she cares about in pain. That she’d be desensitized enough, to fight back the aching nausea and the gnawing desire to look away. 

Or maybe she’s just a coward. That would track, she thinks. 

“Shush,” she says instead, maneuvering Lloyd further into one of the nicer booths, careful of the blood that’s…everywhere. “What did you do to yourself this time, huh?”

“I didn’t do anything,” Lloyd grumbles, his voice steadier now that he’s sitting down. Unfortunately, he’s only paler under the yellowy restaurant lights, and the blood looks about ten times worse. “I just…slipped. A bit.”

Slipped. Skylor could smack him, if he wasn’t already hurt. 

“Lemme see, then.” She bends down to where she can tug the folds of his gi back, trying to trace the blood to a source. She finally finds it — an ugly wound in his left shoulder, several long gashes across his forearm. A knife, maybe. Possibly a sword, but it looks close-up and quick. It’d need to have been quick, for whoever was wielding it to land this many hits. 

Or Lloyd would have to be sloppy. 

Lloyd gives a stifled, shuddery exhale, a dangerous preamble to tears. Skylor pauses, just for a moment, and deliberates. 

She’s got Nya’s number, carefully keyed into her phone ever since she and Kai started visiting the noodle house. There’s no doubt in her mind that she’d want to know about this — and there’s less doubt that Kai would want to know. if anything, she’s surprised he hasn’t burst through the restaurant doors already, summoned by whatever sixth sense he has that goes off when Lloyd’s in danger. 

But Skylor also knows there’s got to be a reason that Lloyd came here, despite his claims. Just as there’s probably a reason he didn’t call Kai or Nya, or any of the others. 

And perhaps she feels just a little proud, that Lloyd’s chosen her to come to. 

It’s quickly lost in the blood that coats her hands as she begins patching the wound in his shoulder, but the feeling’s there nonetheless. 

It’s a nice feeling, being relied on. Being trusted. 

“Who got you this bad?”

She speaks up mostly to break the quiet. Lloyd isn’t quite like Kai, who likes talking simply to fill a space, but she knows he isn’t fond of silence, either. It’s one of the things they share in common. 

“No one.” Lloyd sucks in a breath as she draws the bandage tight across his shoulder, wrapping it beneath his arm and back over. His eyes close briefly as she ties it off, forehead scrunching up, before he lets out another shuddery exhale. “Some guy, uh — guy on the way home, near the subway. I had answered a call earlier, and I guess — ow, hey—” 

“Sorry,” Skylor winces, as she finishes dumping antiseptic across the slashes on his arm. “It hurts less if you aren’t expecting it.”

“That’s a lie,” Lloyd says, pointedly. 

She shrugs. “So, random subway mugger?”

Lloyd looks away, his cheeks darkening. It’s a relief, to see any color in his face at all. “Sort of.”

He leaves it at that, lapsing back into silence. Skylor looks down, focusing on the butterfly stitches she’s placing across his arm. Were it anyone else, she’d have panicked for actual stitches, but Lloyd heals with an uncanny quickness. She remembers Nya complaining about it, back during the Resistance — how Lloyd threw a fit when his skin healed over the stitches, and they’d had to cut him open all over again. 

She’d probably throw a fit of her own, to be fair. 

“Well, if you see him,” she says, reaching for the roll of bandages. “Point him out. I could use a punching bag.”

Lloyd’s lips quirk, a ghost of a smile. 

“Thank you.”

It’s quiet enough she might’ve missed it, if they were any further apart. Skylor doesn’t miss the meaning, either. She simply shakes her head, wrapping another layer around his arm. 

“I’m just glad you came to someone,” she says. “Instead of half-assing it yourself.”

Lloyd’s fingers twitch. “I wouldn’t do that.”

“Uh-huh.”

She can’t pretend she doesn’t understand. Her childhood is filled with fun little memories of patching herself together, hiding wounds from Clouse or her father in an attempt to convince them she was better than she was.

Not that the people Lloyd is hiding from are anything remotely like her father, of course, but there’s an overlap between people you fear and people you love, and trying to convince them you’re stronger than you are. 

“That should do it,” she nods to herself, surveying her work. She feels unusually proud of herself — Skylor’s never really stayed with a team long enough to have many chances to patch people up. It’s rarer that people are so open to her touching them, once they’ve learned what her power is. The ninja are an exceedingly kind exception, but it still makes her feel warm, being given this kind of trust. 

She glances up, eyeing her patient. Lloyd’s still pale, but it’s far better than the ashy color from earlier anymore. “Anywhere else?”

“No.” Lloyd stares at the strip of bandages across his arms, shoulders hunched over on himself.

“I have Nya on speed dial, you know—”

“Its just a few scrapes,” Lloyd rolls his eyes. “It’s nothing.”

Skylor sighs. “Lemme see.”

Lloyd grumbles, but he lets her grab his arm again, wincing as she dabs antiseptic over the smaller cuts. There’s nothing serious — just a few nicks and scratches, the kind you get from eating the ground mid-fight. He’s got one uglier scrape, but it’s about as nasty as a skinned knee, and easily eclipsed by the scar it bleeds through. 

Her fingers falter. She knows this scar — she was there when Kai struggled to patch the wound it once was, back on her father’s island. It’s an ugly, jagged scar, a testament to how Kai’s hands had shook as he’d tried to be gentle. 

In hindsight, it had been a terrible moment. Kai wasn’t sure if Lloyd had picked up the wound from the underground tunnels, Chen’s cultists, or his own brief slip into the madness of the staff. Lloyd wouldn’t say where it was from, even if either of them had been much for talking. And Skylor had been an awkward, purple-scaled fixture next to them, holding the medical kit while the others planned how to kill her father. 

And yet, it was the lightest she’d ever felt. 

Skylor bites her lip. 

She’s never told Lloyd, what exactly he’d meant to her. He likely has no idea, what he’d represented when she’d first met him. 

The son of one of Ninjago’s greatest villains — and people loved him. 

Kai loved him. 

If Lloyd could overcome the hurdle of his parentage and choose to live the way he wanted, if people could look past the dark stain of his legacy and love him anyways, then maybe—

He’d been hope, when she needed it most. And Kai had lived up to that hope, taking Skylor’s half-formed, frail dream and fueling it into a blaze.

Her eyes close, briefly, and she shivers. 

“Are you okay?”

Blinking her eyes back open, she comes face to face with Lloyd’s concerned expression. She shakes her head, looking away. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine.” Embarrassment pulls at her. “Just a bit of…aftershocks. You know.”

Lloyd frowns, clearly not knowing. “Aftershocks,” he repeats. “From…”

His eyes go wide, only for his expression to immediately crumple. “Oh.”

Skylor waves her hands. “It’s not bad,” she reassures him. “I can barely feel him — his power — anymore. Just pins and needles in my hands sometimes, that’s all. Totally…totally normal.”

She hopes. Garmadon’s power had burned, in the way bitter cold feels against your skin, so a bit of numbness is pretty decent tradeoff, if she says so herself. 

Lloyd looks down, expression shadowed and hidden. Skylor could curse herself — she knows better, than to bring up—

“Here.” Lloyd’s suddenly holding his hand out, looking at her earnestly. It’s an almost childish expression of sincerity, one that makes him look much younger — a little more like the Lloyd she met on her father’s island, who beamed when his father ruffled his hair. 

Her chest aches fiercely, and Skylor holds out her hand before she can hesitate. Lloyd takes it carefully in his own, and she watches in fascination as the low shimmer of green engulfs her fingers. Lloyd’s power is as gentle as he is — nothing like the ravaging purple storm that was his father’s. 

“Oh,” she says. “That’s nice.”

Lloyd makes a humming noise. “I’ve been practicing. H-his power doesn’t get along with mine, that much. So it kinda…makes room. For whoever’s stronger, at the moment.”

Skylor fights back a shudder. Realistically, she knows she shouldn’t feel ashamed, that Garmadon overpowered her — he’s Garmadon. The reminder of how his power felt still stings, though. 

It’s a reassurance, that Lloyd’s power is stronger now. His element, if you can even call it that, is probably the one she’s the least familiar with — she’s never tried to copy Lloyd’s power. She isn’t entirely sure if she could, or if she should. Dipping into Garmadon’s power was dangerous enough. Skylor isn’t stupid enough to pretend she has the willpower to meddle with the power of the FSM’s family much more than that. 

“It feels like cheating, kinda,” she finally says. “That fighting fuels his power. How are you supposed to fight back?”

Lloyd shrugs, letting her hand go. “You don’t. You get really good at dodging.”

Skylor leans forward, propping her chin up in her palms. “That’s stupid.”

“Well,” Lloyd’s lips twitch, just the slightest bit. “That’s Garmadon, so.”

His expression immediately fractures, and Skylor can spot the battle in his eyes as he tries to grasp for composure. Her teeth worry at her lip.

She should really call Nya, now. Or try to track down Kai’s number. Or anyone else — it’s nearly two hours past closing, the kitchen’s still a mess, and Lloyd’s blood is all over her dishrags. Lloyd himself is hardly in better shape, the ghostly pale of his skin reminding her horribly of when she first saved them from the Sons of Garmadon, and Skylor is—

Not enough. 

She ought to know that, by now.

But the fact still stands, that Lloyd came to her. A part of her clings to that, and another selfish, awful part of her, the part that festered on her father’s island for so many years, the part that still flinches beneath the weight of her last name — well. 

Misery loves company, is probably the best way to put it. 

“I should…I should probably get going,” Lloyd says, uncertainly. He doesn’t make any move to get up, though, still small and weary where he’s hunched up in her booth. 

Skylor stares at him, and thinks of sitting for hours on the edge of her father’s island, staring at the sun on the water until her eyes ached. 

“Hey,” she says, a bit breathless, twisting her fingers together. “Wanna go skip rocks?”

Quite fairly, Lloyd stares at her like she’s lost her mind. 

They end up on the rickety end of one of Ninjago City’s abandoned docks anyways, a mismatched selection of somewhat flat rocks spilling out of a Chen’s to-go bag. Lloyd’s left arm is tied up in a mangled sort of sling they fashioned from Skylor’s old sweatshirt, leaving him to turn a rock over in his right hand awkwardly. 

“So, funny thing,” he says. “I don’t, uh. I’m not very good at this.”

“That’s okay,” Skylor says, sifting through the rocks they’ve gathered. “I’m not, either.”

“Yeah?” Lloyd sounds hopeful. “I mean, you at least know the trick to it, right?”

“I don’t,” she shrugs. “I’ve never…I’ve never skipped rocks before.”

Lloyd stares at her. 

“It’s not that weird,” she huffs, fighting back the urge to hide. “I mean, I never really had the chance, but I aways thought — I grew up near the ocean, and all these lakes, so I always thought it’d be fun to, y’know, skip rocks, since I didn’t really have…anyone else, to…”

The rest of the sentence is about to turn even more humiliating, so it’s a relief when Lloyd interrupts her. 

“I haven’t either.” 

He immediately flushes. “That’s why I’m not good at it.’Cause I’ve never actually skipped rocks.” 

“Oh.” Skylor looks at their bag, then back up at him. “Well, cool. We’ll both suck, then.”

“How hard can it be, anyways?” Lloyd says, sorting through their rocks. “You just find a flat one, right?”

“Yeah,” Skylor says. “Then you sort of just, frisbee it. I think.”

“Hm.”

“You haven’t thrown a frisbee either, have you.”

“Oh, like you have.”

Skylor presses her lips together, snorting. “Was wondering when your snark was gonna show back up.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Do you not remember half the stuff that came out of your mouth, back at the tournament?”

“You would’ve been out of your mind too, if you had to herd the guys around then — also, bold words coming from you, ooh, how dare you call me a traitor, even though it’s totally dead-on—”

“That wasn’t even close to what I said, and also—” Skylor snatches a smooth rock before Lloyd can, hefting it up. “It’s not like I was gonna admit to you all I was a traitor. That defeats the whole purpose of betraying. Lying my way out of a corner was the smart choice.”

“You’d be surprised,” Lloyd mutters, as Skylor flings her rock across the water.

They both watch as it splashes sadly, sinking instantly like, well. A rock. 

“Okay,” Skylor cringes. “That was a warm-up.”

Several warm-ups later, neither of them have made any progress whatsoever, save to torment whatever fish are hanging out on this side of Ninjago City’s harbor with relentless rock barrages. 

“This is ridiculous,” Lloyd huffs, watching as his rock all but torpedoes into the water. “What’s wrong with us, that we can’t get one stupid rock to skip?”

“Maybe it’s in the wrist?” Skylor flexes her hand, angling it one way then another. She winds ups, throws the rock out, and — nope. 

“I think we’re getting worse,” Lloyd remarks as Skylor sputters, wiping the seawater that splashed up from her face. 

She can’t help but agree. They’re down to a few rocks left, and neither of them have made any progress, much less skipped a single rock. At some point, they give up altogether, seeing who can throw their rock out the furthest instead. 

“This one’s going…” Lloyd raises his arm, closing one eye and squinting as he angles higher. He finally pauses with his hand pointing upwards toward Ninjago City. “Right through that weird oval thing on Borg Tower.” 

“Don’t hit it too hard,” Skylor says. “They just got it back up last week.”

“I’m not hitting it, it’s going through it, weren’t you listening?”

“To you? Nah. I’ve heard you suck at public speaking.”

“Wow, after you forced me into the live broadcast and everything—”

As if to emphasize his distress, Lloyd takes a running start, hurling the rock forward. They watch as it arcs across the skyline, before plummeting somewhere in the harbor. 

“So close,” Skylor murmurs. 

Lloyd flops on the ground with a dull thump, legs sprawling in front of him as he leans back on his elbows. Skylor’s makeshift sling isn’t doing much at all anymore, though it looks like he doesn’t need it to.

That, or he’s hiding pain stupidly well. Which wouldn’t be surprising, if disappointing. 

“Defeated,” he mourns. “Overthrown by rocks.”

Skylor dusts gingerly at the ground before sitting next to him. “They sure got the best of us, this time.”

“Maybe it’s a learning curve,” he says. “That or we missed, like, the optimal rock-skipping development time.”

“Mmh. Maybe we need to recruit a teacher who actually had a decent childhood.”

“If you find someone, lemme know.”

They both laugh, breathless and hollow, because they’re not much else they can say, to that. 

Lloyd sits up suddenly, pulling his knees to his chest. His arms wrap tightly around them, eyes glued forward. Instead of asking, Skylor follows his gaze to the skyline of Ninjago City, the darkened scars left behind by Garmadon and Harumi painfully pronounced this late at night. 

It couldn’t have been longer than two weeks, could it? Their rule over the city?

It feels like years.

She can’t imagine what it must’ve been like for the others — can’t imagine what it was like, ending it. 

It pains her, but Skylor doesn’t remember much of Garmadon’s defeat. She’d thrown everything she had into controlling his power, and when it had snapped back on her, ravaging through her like a cloying poison, everything had gone dark and hazy. 

It kind of sucks, because she’d done all that just to miss the most important parts, but…it is what it is.

What she does remember, besides Nya’s steady voice and Dareth’s panicked yelling, is the blazing warmth that was Lloyd carrying her.

That and his painfully bony shoulder digging into her stomach. 

“I was trying not to get us crushed,” Lloyd mutters, cheeks turning pink. “Sorry my shoulder wasn’t up to cushion-y standards.”

“And I’m trying to say thank you,” Skylor sighs. “But seriously. Put something on those bones.”

“Meh meh meh,” Lloyd mocks. There’s a lack of his usual energy in the action, the dullness to his eyes only made worse by the bruise-like circles beneath them. But it’s still very Lloyd — a flash of the friend she knows. 

“I really do mean it,” she says. “Thank you. For carrying me out of there. For saving me.”

Lloyd stares at her with dark eyes. Not as dark as they were, back when he’d lost his power, but the glow is almost entirely absent.

“You shouldn’t—” he bites off, frustrated. He tosses the rock he’s holding, up and down. “It was never a question.”

He glances at her. “Besides,” and there’s the closest she’s seen to a real smile. “You saved us first.”

Not nearly soon enough, she thinks. 

She should’ve told him, should have asked — should have let him know how it felt to watch her father fall deeper into madness, told him what it felt like to lose hope — what it meant, to move on. 

To cut ties, before they strangled you. 

“How are you,” she says, as gently as she can. Then, because gentle doesn’t always get you through the walls they build— “For real. Not how people want to hear you’re doing, or the answer you think they want. How are you.” 

Lloyd stiffens. There’s a flicker of fear in his expression, his mouth moving on instinct. 

“I’m doing okay.”

Tremors lace through his hand where he holds the rock, shuddering fingers tracing over the rough surface. 

“Okay as I can be.” He looks down, the rock slipping from his fingers as his arms wrap around himself. “I know that isn’t the answer you want, but I don’t…”

He looks back up, the lights of Ninjago City misty in his eyes.  

“I don’t know what people want me to say,” he whispers. 

Skylor wishes he’d screamed it. Wishes he’d snap, wishes he’d find the anger where it simmers inside him and turn it outwards against the world, rather than violently projecting it inwards like a masochistic missile all the time. Anything at all, instead of this hollow brokenness. 

It reminds Skylor a bit too much of—

Well. 

“I know I — things are—” Lloyd swallows. He pauses, raising his hand to scrub at an already-bloodshot eye. “Everything happened so fast. It was like — like getting hit with a bus, then another bus, then she — put the bus in reverse and ran me back over, and I never really had the chance to…to…”

“To get back up?”

Lloyd nods. He picks absently at a bloodstained patch on the leg of his gi. “And I know that’s just a stupid metaphor, but getting back up is…it’s really—”

Lloyd’s pulling threads loose now, tugging hard enough that he’s likely to start unraveling holes in his gi. 

“Can I tell you something? Something that’s not…not so good.”

“Hey, you know me.” Skylor elbows him. “I’m an expert at not-good.”

Lloyd’s eyes are a little too knowing. “You’re really not.”

And she’d turn a mirror on him, if she could. “What is it, then?”

Lloyd looks away, one unusually-sharp tooth gnawing at his lip. 

“I know my dad — my dad I used to have — he loved me. I know he did.” Lloyd sounds, rather devastatingly, like he’s trying to convince himself. “But now that he’s…now that he’s like this, and after everything that happened, I almost wish — I almost—”

He cuts off, covering his face with his hands. “Never mind.”

Skylor stays still, her gaze fixed ahead on a dark spot in the city skyline. If it were her, she’d want—

Lloyd’s voice is a muffled whisper. “I wish he’d never loved me at all.”

Skylor lets out a long, shaky breath. 

Lloyd gives a dry, horrible kind of laugh. “That’s terrible, isn’t it? It’s so selfish, it’s — I’m a horrible person, for thinking that way. But it — it hurts now, to think that — that maybe, now that I’m different — and her — that even my dad—” 

“It hurts,” she murmurs. “To lose it. To think that it’s your fault.”

Lloyd brings his arms over his head, the bandages on his left arm a stark white in the dimness as he buries his face in his knees. Curling up, as if he can make himself small enough the world will finally forget he exists. 

Skylor’s…familiar. 

But then again, is she? 

She swallows. Her father was one thing, but if — if he came back now, after she’s worked so hard to move on — at the height of his madness, what would she do? 

She’s out of her depth, as she’s always been.

But there was a reason she answered the call so fervently, a reason she followed Lloyd without hesitation. Skylor doesn’t put much stock in the Green Ninja, doesn’t put much in any kind of prophecy. But she does care, very much, about Lloyd, and she thinks that’ll take her a bit farther.

“You know.” She looks down, running her finger over their last rock. “You were one of the first people that gave me any hope that I could change. That, uh, someone could love me.”

Lloyd startles, emerging just enough that she can see the green of an eye. “Huh? Me?”

She nods. “Back on my father’s island, during the tournament. I was convinced that…that after everything I’d done, with who I was, there wasn’t a chance I’d find someone who loved me.”

Lloyd frowns, lowering his arms so he can look at her fully. “But I didn’t — Kai was the one who reached out to you. He was the one that saw you. I didn’t…I didn’t really do anything.”

“Yeah. He did. But he reached out to you, first.”

Lloyd stares at her, eyes wide. Skylor smiles at him. “You were good. No matter how bad your family had been. And it…it had been okay, for you.” 

The mistiness returns to Lloyd’s eyes as he looks back to the skyline, his lip caught tightly between his teeth. 

“We’re doing okay, right?” Skylor pulls her own knees up to her chest. “You and me. I mean, we helped, a lot. We fought back for the city. You did a lot more than me, obviously, but—”

“Don’t say that,” Lloyd sounds pained. “Don’t compare it, like I’m — I do a lot more harm than good, sometimes.”

“You don’t say that,” Skylor snaps. 

Lloyd flinches. She bows her head, staring down at her feet. 

“We’re good,” she says, hating the way her voice wobbles. “We’re different.”

It’s occurring to her, how cold it is out here on the water. She hopes Lloyd doesn’t get home with a cold, on top of everything else. 

“We’re different,” Lloyd echoes.

“Yeah.” Skylor swallows. “That has to count for something, right?”

Lloyd makes a small noise, but it isn’t one of disagreement. There’s a rustling as he reaches for the bag, then holds out their final, sad rock. 

“Wanna give it the last try?” He gives her a crooked, half smile. “Make it count?”

Her fingers close over the rough surface, cold against the warmth of his hand. 

The brightness of the sun against water on her father’s island in her eyes, Skylor flings the rock as hard as she can, far enough that it’s swallowed entirely by the harbor darkness. 

If she tries, she can imagine it skipping, just once, across the freezing waters. 

She tells herself, it counts anyways.

[lovepotionsandlust]

Pt 8

CW: Violence in this chapter

Once returning to Burrow, you could not help but notice that everyone had made their way inside.

“Something isn’t right, come on.” Concern flashed across Freds face, grabbing your hand pulling you into the house with him. Entering the door, you were met with hushed and tense conversations. You were surprised to find Professor Lupin standing with the Weasleys. For the first time since your conversation upstairs, George had now made his way to the kitchen, jaw clenched, his eyes never lifting to meet yours. Molly noticing your entry, the conversation halted. You were afraid they were upset for your sneaking away, not sure what to say you looked up at Fred, who was staring at his twin trying to be clued in on what the fuss was.

“What happened?” Fred spoke.

Lupin stepped forward, “The Ministry has been abuzz since your stint at the school, Umbridge apparently lost her job after the embarrassment to the Ministry’s reputation. She has gone on quite the rampage, making some very serious threats to you and your brother.”

“That’s absurd! She only got exactly what was coming for her after what she was doing to Hogwarts. She has gone mad if-”

“You’re right, she has gone mad. Delores has never been the gentlest even on her best days. That’s why we are moving you and your family until she has been located.”

Molly stepped forward, “Hermione has returned back home, we know that Umbridge will never attack amongst the Muggles.”

Fred pulled you closer behind him, you were unsure if to protect you or to hide you. Arthur cleared his throat looking uncomfortable with the news he had to share.

“I will escort the girl home, she will be safe there as Umbridge is unaware of your budding relationship.”

“You have gone just as mad as Umbridge has if you believe I am going to leave her alone right now.”

Sensing how serious Molly, Arthur and Lupin were you spoke up. “Freddie, I will be okay. Umbridge never saw us together, she would have no reason to connect us together. You need to go to with them.” Giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, “The order moves quickly, there are more of them than there is of her. This won’t take long, as soon as she has been found you can come get me.”

George stepped away from the sink he had been leaning on, “Umbridge knows she is friends with Ginny, that is an open link you all seem to be missing. You must know she is smarter than to ignore that connection.”

“If it will keep everyone comfortable, as soon as we get you all to the second location, I can personally return to guard her home.” Lupin interjected.

“See? I will be just fine,” your eyes flashed back and forth between the twins, “you all need to get to where you need to be. I will not be responsible for any of you being hurt.”

George scoffed, shaking his head. “Fine, if someone stays with her, I will go.”

You were taken back by George’s concern for your safety, even more so after how cold he had been towards you earlier. Fred stepped closer to Arthur, his eyes pleading, “please, if anything happens to her-”

“Yes, we know.” Arthur turned to you, “The order will keep ALL of us safe. Like you said, there are more of us than there are of her.”

***

 You followed the twins up to their room while they quickly packed their bags. Fred insisting on staying with you as long as he could before you were forced to depart. If George was on edge before, he was teetering now. You kept your distance so as not to upset him further. George finished packing his bag first, pushing past you without a word, making his way back downstairs. Freds hands were shaking as he closed the zipper to his bag.

Sliding up behind him, you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his back. He took a deep breath, placing his hand atop yours. “I promise you, as soon as she is found I will come straight to you. I will not let her ruin anything else for me.” You could hear the nervousness in his voice.

“I will even send my spare key back when they drop me off, so no matter when this is over, you can come back to me.”

Fred spun in your arms, wrapping you in an embrace. After a sullen moment, he pulled back slightly resting his hand on your cheek, pulling your eyes to his.

“I promise to always find you, always.” Butterflies filled your stomach at his tone. “This isn’t right, you should not be the one doing the comforting here, I have a group of people with me, you’re going home alone.”

“I won’t be alone; Remus will be with me until you are back at my side where you belong Freddie.” He pulled you in giving you a soft kiss.

A knock at the door caught your attention, you turned to find Molly awaiting in the doorway. “I don’t mean to interrupt but we have to get moving.”

***

After departing from the Burrow and more importantly the Weasleys, Lupin saw to it that you were home safely before leaving you. “Once I have confirmed that everyone has made it to the safe house as intended, I will return it should not take more than an hour. Do your best to relax, have some chocolate, it helps.” Keeping true to your promise you sent him with a key for Fred. Making a quick exit, you locked the door behind him, making your way back to your bedroom. You should have been nervous, terrified even, and yet you had full faith in what Lupin had told you. With the knowledge that Lupin would be returning shortly, you decided to take the opportunity to take a shower.

 Entering the shower, your aching muscles were grateful for the relief of the warm water rushing over you. Humming contently as you massaged your conditioner out of your hair, you were sure you had heard the front door close. You would not have put it past Fred to sneak away from the group that quickly to return to you. Finishing rinsing the product from your hair turning off the water. You stopped to listen for any evidence of movement, you heard shuffling from your bedroom.

“Hello?” you called out wrapping yourself in your towel. A moment passed, but no response to be heard. Not wanting to be caught without your clothes on, you promptly pulled on your clean clothes before reaching to unlock the latch. Before you could reach for the door a whisper sounded on the other side, “Alohomora”.

Frozen with fear you stood and watched as the lock slowly spun within the handle. Looking to the counter, you remembered your wand was left next to your bed. The door swung open quickly, nearly knocking you back. You could not have prepared yourself for what you saw next. Standing in the entryway to the bathroom was Delores Umbridge, looking greatly disheveled. Her wand was pointed directly at you, her hand shaking. “Where are they?”

The look in her eye was unnerving, deranged almost. You knew without a fraction of a doubt, you were not going to tell her anything.

“I will have order, that red headed twit and his brother have caused far too much dismay” She paused. “ I saw more than the students realized during my time at Hogwarts. The way those two watched over you, it was easy to know where at least one of them would be after that show of complete disregard for authority.”

Her wand lowered slightly, giving you the confidence to respond, “If you know where they are, why are you asking me?” causing her jaw to clench. What happened next scared you more than you thought was possible in this moment. A high giggle escaped her, and an evil smirk crossed her face.

“Well if you wont tell me where they are, I am sure we can find a way to bring them to us. If their sweet love is under the effects of the Cruciatus Curse, they are bound to come running to her rescue.”

“You wouldn’t use the Cruciatus curse just for information. Over a little firework show?” attempting to call her bluff you stepped towards her. “Oh, Delores, you didn’t let them affect you that much did you? I took you for a stronger woman than that.”

Before you were able to continue, your entire body filled with the most excruciating pain you had ever felt. Your knees gave out from under you throwing you to the floor, you attempted to scream but the air felt as if it had been pulled from your lungs.

Umbridge stepped closer to you, wand still pointing at you, the pain relented for only a moment. “Do not tell me who or what I am little girl, you will either tell me where they are or you will call them to us.”

As quickly as the pain had stopped it rebegan. Even with the pain enveloping your body, your mind was pushing through. “don’t tell her anything, eventually she must stop. You have to get to your wand. Stand up.” Your vision was going blurry, and you were fighting to stay conscious. Once again, the pain had stopped.

“Not so mouthy in pain, are we? Are you ready to tell me where they are?”

“You must buy time for Lupin will return soon or you have to get back to your wand.”

You nodded weakly, gasping loudly attempting to catch your breath.

A satisfied squeak pushed through her lips.  “See how easy that was?”

Your mind was screaming at you to cause a diversion, to fight back. Just hoping she could not see past your deception, you pulled yourself to your feet. Staggering towards your room, her wand pushed into your back, causing you to freeze.

“Now no tricks, I have not been known to be the forgiving type.”

You knew if she saw you reaching for your wand she would start her assault again. Thinking on your feet you added “I need to get my shoes; I will take you to them.”

“I assure you; cold feet are the least of your worries, take me to them.”

“You won’t let me get my shoes? There is still snow on the ground.”

“Well then you best move quickly if you want to keep your toes.”

***

You had no idea where you were going to lead her, now having no shoes, jacket or wand. With no knowledge of where the safe house was, you left your home. Hoping that anyone from the Order would see you with Umbridge and assist. She quickly interlocked her arm with yours keeping her wand pressed to your side beneath her coat. Walking in the dark, aimlessly, your hope of someone spotting you was diminishing. It had had to have been at least twenty minutes of walking, your feet had gone numb at this point, your wet hair now covered in a layer of frost. You still had no idea where you were going but you knew you could not lead her to the Weasleys. Noticing a pair of footprints in the snow, you had decided to follow them into the woods. Hopefully you would run into someone along the way. “if we go deep enough into the trees, try to run from her, disarm her if you can.”  

The light of the moon was all that was illuminating your path forward, as you reached a clearing, she pulled your arm stopping you in your tracks.

“Where are you leading me? We have been walking far too long at this point.”

Her wand raising to point at your chest, you were shivering at a rate that made it hard for you to speak.

“I-I am t-t-trying. I-it is s-so c-cold.”

“How close are we?” You must have taken too long to respond, because the pain once again washed over you.

Falling to the forest floor, a scream fought its way past your chest, screaming into the darkness. You laid there, freezing, in horrible pain. Accepting your fate that she was most likely never going to give in. You were so tired from walking; your feet had broken open from the cold and were bleeding into the snow below you. Darkness was closing in on your vision, you weren’t sure how much longer you could stay awake, pain radiating deep within your core. From the distance you could see a dark black dog approaching you rapidly. You had done your studies well enough you knew this was the Grimm. Panic should have flashed through you at the thought of death coming for you, but the idea of this pain coming to an end felt like a relief. Watching as the dog rushed towards you, you were expecting it to bend down to take you. You closed your eyes waiting for its arrival, suddenly the pain stopped, but you were still awake. Reopening your eyes at the sound of Umbridge’s yelps, you watched as it lunged towards her, biting down firmly on the arm that was holding her wand.

She released her grip, her wand falling to the ground near you. All you could hear was gnashing teeth and deep growls. With the last strength you had left, you crawled over to her wand, raising it from the snow drift it had landed in. Your vision was spotty, hands shaking, you could barely hold your head up. Fear ran over you, worried you would hit the dog and not her, that she would continue to harm you.

A voice rang from behind you, calling out your name. You recognized him immediately; it was Lupin. It must have been his footprints in the snow you were following, or maybe he heard your screams and came to your rescue. Now knowing you were safe at last, your body gave out, unconsciousness taking over you.  

***

Your eyes opened slowly, not recognizing your surroundings. You attempted to sit up quickly remembering your earlier attack. A hand met your shoulder stopping you, turning to your right you were met with George. “Shh, it’s okay, you’re safe now. Don’t try to move too quickly.” His voice was much softer than you had expected.

You looked to your left, finding Fred asleep on your thigh. You had no idea where you were, or how long you had been asleep for. You went to question where you were, a stinging pain returning to your head, stopping you.

“You were smart to follow Lupins tracks. He was on his way back with Sirius when they heard your screams.” He paused, pain radiating from his expression, releasing a shaky breath he continued, “They said you were trying to fight back brilliantly. They said they had never seen someone hold off the Cruciaders curse for so long.” He had been holding your hand, not yet ready to meet your eyes, he watched your fingers. You could see his face was tear stained, his eyes puffy from crying.

“How long have I been asleep for?” Your voice was raspy, your throat aching with thirst. George must have heard how parched you had been, promptly grabbing the glass of water from your end side table. He lifted the cup to your lips assisting you to take a sip.

“You have been asleep for about 10 hours; you awoke much earlier than they had predicted. You are stronger than everyone gives you credit for, you know that?” He brushed your hair out of your face, looking over you for any cuts or bruises. He let out a sigh, “I told them she would have been smart enough to come to find you, but they just wouldn’t listen to me. Took a swing at my dad even when I found out what had happened.” He paused, his chin quivering.

“Georgie, look at me. Please.”  

He took a moment, closing his eyes, attempting to find his composure to meet your gaze.

Tightening your grip on his hand, you gave it a reassuring squeeze, “Hey, I’m okay Georgie, I was not about to let her find you both. I wasn’t sure where I was going to take her, but I knew it was not to either of you.”

He nodded, a sob escaping him. “It was either me or all of you, I was never going to bring her to you.” You shrugged, “Figured I was stronger than the two of you combined.” A confused look crossed his face, finally looking up at you. “Just trying to diffuse the tension” you smiled at him.

“You’re joking at a time like this?” he paused wiping the tears from his face, “my brother really is the luckier twin, isn’t he?”

It was your turn to look confused.

“This is not right; you should not be the one doing the comforting.” You smiled to yourself noticing the parallel in this statement as Fred had stated something similar to you before leaving the Burrow. A stir from your left caught your attention.

“You’re awake? How are you feeling? George why didn’t you wake me?” stumbling over his words, he stood up leaving a kiss on your temple, resting his forehead on yours. “Do you need anything? How is your pain-“

“I am ok Freddie, really. Georgie here has been taking good care of me.”

“What did you think you were doing out there? What happened?” Fred scooting his chair closer to you.

“We don’t need to know what happened just yet, let her rest Fred.” George interrupting his brother.

“No, no, it is alright.” You tried pushing yourself up to a more sitting position, your muscles screaming with exhaustion” I will tell you what happened. Just please be patient with me, my memory is still foggy.”

George stood from his chair turning his back to both of you.  He crossed his arms across his chest, he knew he could not look at you, but refused to exit the room. He could not be expected to hold his composure as you discussed your attack, let alone while his brother embraced you the way he so desperately craved.

As you recounted the events that had unfolded, Fred watched you intently, trying to hide his horrified expression. You recalled the pain you had felt, and how your consciousness was pushing you to fight back. How your feet cut open in the snow before they had gone numb, and how cold you had felt laying on the forest floor. Pausing to take a deep breath, fighting back tears.

George uncrossed his arms, his fists clenching at his sides. His worry was quickly turning to anger. The idea of you in that much pain, or fear, became too much for him. He exited the room slamming the door behind him. The loud bang causing you to jump.

“Ignore him, he just can’t hold his emotions well.” Fred stated watching the door, quickly returning his attention to you. “What can I do for you? You have done so much for us, for me.”

You slid over in the bed making room, “please come lay with me Freddie.”  

Cautiously, Fred crawled into the bed with you, allowing you to curl into his side, head on his chest. His fingers tracing up and down your back, you melted into him.  

“It was so awful, I didn’t know what was going to happen, if I was going to see you again. If I could stop her-“ a lump in your throat formed, choking back your words. You could not hold back the tears any longer. Fred pulled you in closer as they streamed down your face, you gripped onto his sweater, afraid if you were to let go, that he would evaporate from your clutches.  

***

The exhaustion of everything you had been through mixed with the comfort of Freds embrace eventually had lulled you into a dreamless sleep. Fred was grateful that you were resting, that you could not see the expression strewn across his face as his heart broke for what you had gone through. A knock at the door pulled him from his thoughts.

“Who is it?” he said softly to not wake you.

“Its George, can I come in?”

“Yeah but be quiet.”

George tiptoed his way into the room, closing the door quietly behind him. The sight of you curled up on his brothers’ chest felt bittersweet. Relieved that you were once resting again and safe, yet wishing it was him making you feel that way. He sat back in his chair alongside the bed, watching you carefully. The twins sat silently, both focusing on your breathing, ensuring they did not wake you. Your slow, deep breathing confirmed that you were resting peacefully.

“She’s going to be okay you know?” They both questioned each other in unison. Causing them both to chuckle.

“George, how did we let this happen? We should have brought her with us.”

“We were greatly outnumbered I’m afraid. That one right there was enough to convince me that the sky wasn’t falling.” He motioned towards your sleeping form.

“She is quite compelling.” Fred chuckled, placing a kiss to your forehead. “You know you are going to have to tell her eventually, right?”

For the first time since re-entering the room, Georges eyes diverted from you, looking at his brother. “What are you talking about?” Panic washed over him.

“Oh, come on George, you act as if I haven’t known you since before, we were born.” George expected Fred to look angry, or even disappointed, surprised by his relaxed expression. “I’m sorry it took me so long to really realize it. I have been so caught up in everything lately to even notice how much you were effected by this. By us.”

“What gave me away?”

“When you tried to hit Dad. I have only ever seen you that mad once before.”

George chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck, “fourth year, when Wood had accompanied Katie Bell to the spring fling after I had followed her around for a week trying to gain the courage to ask her. I was lucky he didn’t kick me off the team for knocking that bludger directly at him.”

“Why only have one great beater when I have two?” They both stated in a mocking tone. A small moment of hushed laughter passed over them, falling into a comfortable silence.

“Are you not upset with me Freddie?”

Fred shook his head, “I don’t think I could blame you; it was only a matter of time before we both fell in love with the same girl. Honestly? I am relieved. After what happened yesterday, I am just glad she has two of us to watch over her.”

“Trouble does seem to follow her around, doesn’t it?”

“Well, she did find us, didn’t she?”

“I don’t think I can tell her though. I refuse to put her in a position where she feels she must choose”

“Maybe she doesn’t have to.”

[heavyhitterheaux]

fl getting turned on by jack being stern with one of the triplets

It was two in the morning and both of you were fuming. Autumn had taken it upon herself to sneak out knowing that just about the entire house was filled with security cameras and as soon as she had gotten in the car with whoever at the end of the driveway, it immediately alerted you since it had detected movement.

“She’s going to be grounded until she’s 50.” Jack muttered. You wanted to laugh, but you knew that right now he was one hundred percent serious. 

“Babe, 50? Really?” You asked with your arms crossed.

“Make that 70 if she has an attitude when she walks through that door.”

“Ohh can’t wait for this. I’m interested to see what her explanation is going to be.” You said as you played on your phone. 

Both of you were sitting in the dark in the living room knowing that it would catch her off guard when you finally heard the door open.

She had her heels in her hand and was trying to make her way towards the steps when Jack promptly turned on the brightest light in the living room startling her.

“Oh.. umm.” She started to say, but Jack immediately cut her off. 

“This gentle parenting thing has me fighting for my spot in heaven on a daily basis. Autumn Danielle, get over here, NOW.”

“But…”

“Did I give you permission to speak?” Jack asked and this completely caught her off guard.

“Daddy…”

“Strike two and don’t you dare ‘daddy’ me. Where were you? I’m giving you one chance to answer and you better not lie.”

“I went out with Jaden.” She quietly said and before you even had a chance to respond, Jack let her have it.

“How many times do we have to tell you to stay away from him? Was Ax beating his ass for the way that he talked about you not enough?”

“I…”

“There is not a good enough explanation in the world right now for how you’ve been acting. You were already grounded, but now you’ve tacked on another month. Skipping school, failing your classes, and now we can add sneaking out to the list. And we’re now definitely taking your car away.”

“A month?! That is so unfair! Mommy! Don’t tell me you agree with him?!”

“Autumn, all I’m going to say is that we raised you better than this.” You said while sitting back and letting Jack handle it because truth be told you were tired of the way she had been acting and didn’t have the energy to deal with it. This blindsided her because Jack was usually the easy going parent and now the tables had been turned. 

“DO YOU NOT KNOW HOW LUCKY YOU ARE TO HAVE US AS YOUR PARENTS? NONE OF YOU EVEN HAVE TO LIFT A FINGER AND EVERYTHING HAS BEEN FU-...HANDED TO YOU SINCE THE DAY THAT YOU WERE BORN! SO WHY DO YOU INSIST ON ACTING OUT?”

“I DIDN’T ASK TO BE BORN INTO THIS FAMILY! I FUCKING HATE IT HERE! YOU NEVER LET ME DO WHAT I WANT TO DO! YOU TREAT US LIKE WE’RE SIX AND NOT SIXTEEN!”

“EXCUSE ME?” You said, but Jack looked at you and shook his head.

“I got it, baby. Oh. Oh really? Okay from this day forward, Autumn is going to get a part-time job, officially will not get an allowance anymore until I say so, will have no car, no phone, no laptop, will go to tutoring multiple times a week to get her grades up, will not be allowed to perform with the dance team, and will take care of her younger siblings without getting an attitude. And better not under any circumstances be around Jaden. Do I make myself clear or do I need to repeat myself?” Jack said in a calm manner while you were in the corner with your mouth hanging wide open. 

“Wifey, do you have anything else to add?” Jack asked as he turned to look at you.

“Nope.”

“Autumn Danielle Harlow, do I make myself clear?” He asked her once again and she had now began to cry but slowly nodded her head.

“Speak up because I can’t hear you.”

“Yes.”

“Good now go and get every single electronic device and put it in our room as well as your car keys. Do it with a smile because if I sense any more attitude out of you, I’ll add not only another month but the entire summer and you won’t be able to go on our annual family vacation. Try me, Autumn. I dare you. And don’t you ever fix your mouth to cuss at us ever again in your life.”

“Okay, I’m sorry but…”

“No, what I said still stands. Don’t try to apologize now. You should’ve thought about it before you did what you did. Goodnight.”

Without another word Autumn made her way upstairs and all you were doing was smiling when Jack turned around to look at you.

“What? Was I too hard on her?” He asked immediately starting to get nervous.

“No, not at all because that’s exactly what I would have done. I… just…. love to see you when you get like that.” You answered while wrapping your legs around him to bring him closer to you.

“Get like what?”

“When that alpha persona comes out of you. I mean we all know it’s really me who runs this household, but you get it.” 

“Oh, so do I need to take care of something for you?” Jack asked as he leaned down to begin kissing along your neck. You moved to the side to give him better access and immediately nodded. 

“I think that you do.” You quietly said before Jack picked you up bridal style with you letting out a yelp.  

“Hmm, whatever my wife wants, she gets.” Jack said while leaning down to kiss you which you quickly accepted.

[possum-quesadilla]

The last chapter of Time is a Flat Circle is up! So sorry in advance. (No I’m not.) Be sure to read the trigger warnings and tread carefully! This one is a doozy!

Here are the details for this specific chapter! Time is a Flat Circle as a whole will have a “post mortem” itself before Part 2 comes out. If you have any questions you’d like answered, send them my way!

- The lyrics from this chapter’s title is from “This Woman’s Work” by Kate Bush! Heavily inspired by a scene using a song in “Our Flag Means Death”, I listened to this song endlessly while writing this chapter. I believe it fits it so well for obvious reasons.

- “His senses weren’t overly reactive, recently. It was easier to spend more time outside, or among the humans’ excited chatter. It was nice. It made them feel… not peace, but a lack of unease.” - he is experiencing overstimulation less and less due to the humans helping him have access to accommodations!

- “(where the hell even was “Miskatonic University”?)” - This is a reference to H.P. Lovecraft’s work, since it inspired Beetlejuice’s last name, but also more to the movie “Re-Animator”! It kicks a lot of ass if you can stomach it. Check the trigger warnings before watching. Highly regarded in the trans autistic community.

- Beej’s favorite pizza toppings being pepperoni and mushrooms is a reference to That Beautiful Sound!

- “one of the “fidgets” she was particularly fond of; a singular key of a keyboard.” - This is based on my favorite fidget!

- “Can you even blush?” - He can!

- “ the gaudy floral wallpaper.” … “the tackily patterned yellow wallpaper. (How repellent. How dull.)” - The appearance of the wallpaper and the way Beetlejuice describes it is taken straight from one of my absolute favorite horror short stories, “The Yellow Wallpaper” by Charlotte Perkins Gilman!

- “I promised I’d get you all out of this, and ‘m a… thing of my word.” - Taken straight from my own vernacular. I’m not a man or a woman of my word, so I say “thing” as a joke!

- “Hot damn!” - this is a reference to one of my favorite “Brooklyn-99” cold opens.

- The TV show Barbara and Lydia start while the boys are busy with the model is “The Fall of the House of Usher”, which is one of my absolute favorite shows ever. It is an amalgamation of Edgar Allen Poe’s stories! Lydia would go nuts, I think.

- As Adam states, Beetlejuice has very sensitive eyes! They’re built for darkness, so they don’t know how to handle an abundance of light properly. Also, the sensory nightmare of ‘sun in your eyes’ sucks.

- “Gardening with Barbara was like a short dream conjured up from a summer afternoon nap.” - Although altered, this comparison is taken straight from my absolute favorite story Stephen King has ever written: “Laurie”. It is phenomenal. Highly recommend you listen to MrCreepyPasta’s reading of it.

- The soup Beetlejuice helped make was loaded potato soup! One of my favorites.

- “It should be a comfort, shouldn’t it? No one else got a chance like this, to have the precious moments mapped out, to have their time left set in stone.” - This is taken straight from my own thoughts. As someone with many chronic illnesses and a projected shortened lifespan, this is something I often tell myself.

- “after he’d wrapped her up in blankets and tossed her onto her bed.” - Fun sibling activities! My older brother used to love to wrap me up tightly and toss me across the room onto my bed. I also loved it.

- “I don’t keep anything strong on me after Adam freaked out about my flask.” - My version of Adam has trauma related to alcoholism/substance abuse. Beej took his concerns seriously and stashed away most of his ’goods’.

- “ “There is no… other side for me.” He gently squeezed her hand. “This is it.” ” - This is, of course, one of the hardest lines ever written, from “BoJack Horseman”. Made me bawl my eyes out when I first heard it, and I bawled again writing it into my fic.

- The various smells!

- Black tea and perfume - this has already been addressed! Beetlejuice mentioned how Barbara smells like iced tea and perfume a few times before.

- Isopropyl alcohol and tung oil - aftershave and woodworking materials!

- Vinegar-y chemicals and formaldehyde - Lydia has traces of photo-treatment chemicals on her. And she likes taxidermy things.

- Beetlejuice’s reaction to being called sweet is a direct mirror of my own. I have no idea how to respond to being called kind and such and act all grumpy.

- On the “diagnosed” conversation - everyone but Beetlejuice knows that that’s about. Lydia has been diagnosed with a few things as well! Perhaps we will get into it in Part 2?

- “The evening passed at the speed of a dream. Dinner, dishes, laughter. Pajamas, blankets, rounds of Clue and tossed game pieces.” - This is meant to parody General Gibson’s speech in “Asteroid City”. Specifically when he says, “twenty years passed at the speed of a dream. A wife, a son, a daughter, a poodle.” This movie literally altered my brain chemistry, no hyperbole. It will be referenced again.

- “Eric is returning to his grave.” - This is meant to be foreshadowing for Beej’s plan!

- “Lydia suggested they watch “The Exorcist”. Despite the Maitlands being terrified of the film, they stuck around to watch it. But the humans did not make it to the ending. They fell asleep huddled together, all pressed up against the demon’s sides. “God damn you, take me!” It wasn’t so funny this time around.” - This has a few layers; it’s referring to how movie Beetlejuice has seen “The Exorcist” 167 times, and says it gets funnier every time. The scene that is being quoted is when the priest character, Karras, tells the demon to take him instead of the girl it’s possessing. He then jumps out the window to kill the demon along with himself. For obvious reasons, this is not quite as funny to Beej anymore. (And, I mean, it’s about an exorcism. And he is dreading an upcoming exorcism. Not fun!)

- “How exquisitely stupid. How perfectly splendid.” - These are both references to two of my favorite pieces of horror media. The first is from “Nope”, the second is from “The Haunting of Bly Manor”.

- “They tried, desperately, to hold it all within their grasp, to savor it, to hold it close. But it’s hopeless. The last day with their BFFF passes like sand through his fingers.” - This is meant to be a reference to “So Long” by Tokyo Elvis, which was the song for one of the previous chapters!

- “7pm arrives like a thief in the night, sure and swift and inevitable.” - the phrase “like a thief in the night” is from “The Masque of Red Death” by Edgar Allen Poe. Lydia’s love of the poet is rubbing off on him!

- “He empties out their belongings from his hammer space and leaves them in tidy piles in the basement.” - this is a reference to a line from Mitski’s “The Last Words of a Shooting Star”, which was almost the song for this chapter. The lyrics it references are “And I am relieved that I'd left my room tidy, They'll think of me kindly, When they come for my things”

- The scene where Lydia calls Beetlejuice “BugBeverage” is meant to parallel the goodbye hug they exchanged at the end of the musical, just somewhat reversed!

- “Of all the billions of breathers that coulda seen me and said my name, I’m so glad it was you.” - this is meant to be a homage to a very impactful scene in “Fantastic Mr. Fox”. Shout out to all my fellow autistics that this movie made cry.

- “W-Wiggog Y-” - This is a cheeky reference to Wiggly from the Hatchetfield Universe! I have my own Tickle-Me-Wiggly!

- “I bid you, full foul in your fury, to smother this profane blight with your icy cull,” - This is a rephrasing of one of the best monologues ever from the best movie of all time, “The Lighthouse”. (I have seen it 103 times. I am not joking.) The original lines were, “rise from the depths full foul in his fury!” And “smother this young mouth with pungent slime”

- “His feet shifted, teeter-toter- Deep breath, it’s time.” - Taken from “The View from Halfway Down”, a poem read on “BoJack Horseman” from the same episode as the other quote in this chapter. It is a haunting, distressing poem from the perspective of someone who has jumped off a bridge to commit suicide, but regrets it halfway down. I thought it was extremely thematically relevant here.

- “Morning Frost.” - Morning Frost is a creation of my own. It’s a play on the ‘Morningstar’, or Lucifer, the original demon. The original head honcho of the Netherworld. Not much is known about them by Beej, so we are too for now! The only way to kill a creature born of hellfire is to freeze out that fire.

- “Heart. Lungs. Liver. Nerves.” - This is taken from a similar scene in “Slay The Princess”, one of my favorite games ever!! A horrific timeloop, a twisted romance. I won’t spoil anything, but the character saying this is doing so to keep his body from shutting down, like Beetlejuice. I say this to myself over and over again sometimes when I’m having a panic attack and it’s helped!

- “They hope it’ll lull them safely into a gentle goodnight.” - this is a reference to a famous poem, “Do not go gentle into that good night” by Dylan Thomas.

- The feeling of warmth returning is a bad thing, which is why Adam freaks out more when he notices! One of the last stages of hypothermia is feeling incredibly warm and stopping shaking. There’s also disorientation and confusion, hence why Beej can’t talk or think quite straight after this point.

- A fun little lesson on treating hypothermia from the Deetz-Maitlands! Warm the neck and core with blankets, get heated blankets if possible, and give them warm, sweet beverages. Starting to shake again is a great sign.

- “… he couldn’t let them see him as he was) and stepped forward to greet the pair, shaking on his humanoid illusions and Ghost with the Most persona.” - Beeltejuice is afraid that he can’t take anything back now. He wants to make a good impression on Charles and Delia. Sucks to suck, buddy!

If you’ve made it this far, wow… thank you! This monster of a fic wouldn’t be possible without the serotonin boost every like, comment, and FANART (still can’t believe that one) sent my way. Thank you so much. Can’t wait for Part 2! I will add hints and teasers for what’s to come in the Post Mortem. I’m going to keep working on my crochet sandworm now.

[lovebillyhargrove]

Slow burn. Season 1 Steve Harrington meets asshole Billy Hargrove. Fire on fire, leading to an explosion. First chapter of this whole idea where there are definitely gonna be casualties

On ao3 "Wake me up when July is around"

Chapter 1/?

***

Fuck this stupid fucking Hawkins. What in fucking hell has he done to deserve it? Who the fuck moves away from California to a shit hole like this??

No one, apparently, except for his dad.

There are a lot of things about Neil Hargrove he finds weird. But the strangest one? Neil never fucking cared about the ocean. Billy doesn't remember a single time when his dad actually went to the beach, with or without his son. How can you not go to the beach if it's right there, on your doorstep?

Fucking insane.

The only thing Neil has ever cared about is being a respectable member of the community. Don't stick your head up too high, or you might get it chopped off. Be like everyone else.

If that's what being an adult is, Billy would rather die young.

Fuck this shit. Fuck this lame town. Fuck his life.

His hands are itching to turn the ignition key and drive away without looking back right this fucking second, but Billy needs to finish school first. He also needs some money and to turn 18. He knows that, he's not a fool.

This year's gonna be such a drag.

His father is a mechanic, and a good one. They lived in the suburbs of San Diego, where his father worked for many years at the Marine Corps Air Station in Miramar. Billy isn't sure if he counted as military or not, maybe he was just a mechanic who worked on a military base on a contract. But it seems that they paid him a good amount of dough when he quit. Or when he was made redundant, his dad didn't bother to fill Billy in on the details.

Parents never tell their kids anything, they never fucking explain. Like kids are so dumb, they won't understand adult stuff anyways. But then they go and demand from children to be mature at the age of fucking four. Be a man, his dad always says. Billy has been listening to this phrase ever since he got out of diapers. He's pretty sure he heard it before as well, it just didn't register on his level of understanding. Be a man. Respect and responsibility alright, but, somehow, it's supposed to go only one way. Kids don't have to be respected.

What a bunch of crap.

We're moving, son, that's it. Whether you like it or not, whether you want it or not. Us adults make decisions, and you just have to swallow everything down, not have your own opinion, go pack your bag and help Susan. Put all the furniture in the van, come on, chop the fucking chop.

Billy remembers how his father took him to the Miramar base when he was little. Billy, of course, was impressed. Huge planes and helicopters, he'd even dreamt of becoming a pilot one day. He'd fly away, and find his mom, and they'd live on a deserted beach without the bad people.

As he grew older, he realized how naive and childish his dream was. He also understood quite quickly that he did not like anything connected with the army and the military. Always live by someone's orders? His whole fucking life, until retirement? No thank you, sir. He had enough of this coming from his dad. Billy was actually more interested in traveling to different places once he grew up, he craved the sense of freedom. Of going anywhere. Around the States, he's always wanted to drive to the Atlantic. Or Mexico, where, they say, the beaches are fucking brilliant. Or South America. The world is fucking huge, so why the hell not?

Not to Hawkins, Indiana, obviously, but here he is. Stuck in cow shit. Waiting for his stepsister to come out of the house so that he can drive them both to school.

Billy wasn't impressed with the military stuff, but he himself was good with his hands. Must've taken after his father. He enjoyed it too. Which was surprising because initially it was Neil who taught him a lot about mechanics. Very quickly, this father-and-son time has become a burden for Billy, a suffocating chore he didn't want to do anymore. Because it was constant pressure. It was constant dissatisfaction, even contempt. His dad was never happy, even about little things, like tightening a loose screw. It's not like that. You did it wrong there. You could have done a better job, do you hear me, son? The son himself could've turned out much better generally as well, Billy already got the basic idea.

Sorry, dad. For being the way I am.

Billy has been hanging out at this garage near his house since he was little. Learned a lot there too. When he was fourteen, he brought a crashed blue 1979 Chevrolet Camaro Z28, which he found at a junkyard, to that same repair shop. He remembered almost losing his mind when he saw that beauty, just standing there, waiting to be towed away for scrap, to be crushed, sent into non-existence. Irreparable damages. Fuck no. It was his car now. The guys at the garage were kinda taken away by the determination of a 14-year-old. They helped, a lot. Billy spent all his savings on that car, working on it practically every day for months. It was a lot of work, and Billy enjoyed every bit of it. He also tried applying for a driver's license at 14, claiming he had no other option of getting to school, of course it was such transparent bull, his application got rejected at first. He then begged Neil to help him. His dad did, used his military connections. At 15 and a half Billy was already behind the wheel of his super dope car.

As soon as Billy got his own car, Max was handed over to him, hanging like a concrete slab around his neck. Take her there and there, pick her up, wait for her. Be very careful when you drive. Do not ever exceed the speed limit. Personal chauffeur, damn it. No complaints allowed.

Billy put two and two together and figured out pretty quickly why his dad had been so eager to help with getting that license.

Max? She has always been the privileged one since the day she appeared in his life. Max became and still was his unwanted responsibility. He was doing fine, being an only child, and then one day, he got a fucking sister he never asked for.

His father married this colourless shadow of a woman, Susan, four years ago, and then, when Neil's job was over, they decided to move to the ass of the world, a nowhere town called Hawkins, cause Susan is from Indiana, and some of her relatives still live around here somewhere. Apparently, Susan had fallen in love a long time ago, moved to California, had this red-haired misunderstanding, then something had gone wrong, as with most marriages. But with Neil, it actually went right. Four years and counting, of this mind-numbing righteousness. The jury is still out on that though, but these two seem to fit together, both so boring and ceremonious, and with baggage in the form of children from previous relationships. It's hard to find a match with a kid hanging around your neck. Susan and Neil are trying. To build a fucking family.

So after Susan's brainwashing, Neil found some work here, in this joke of a town, on a farm or something, and off the whole family joyfully went.

Billy is taking a long drag of his Marlboro. It's a bit chilly this morning but, he must admit, it's not unpleasant. Although he already misses the sun like crazy.

Where the fuck is Max? They are fucking gonna be late for school on their first fucking day, for fuck's sake.

Billy suspected it wasn't that easy with Max's dad. Maybe she missed him. Maybe he was an asshole to Susan, just like his dad was to his mom. Divorce is never easy, and it hits kids the hardest. But Billy was jealous. Susan took Max with her. Unlike Billy's mom who bailed and left him with Neil. Why, Mom? Billy wasn't little anymore, he understood why.

But like a fucking toddler, he was jealous, of Max. His mother didn't want him.

They still don't know the whole truth about this idiotic move. Billy bets Max thinks it's because Neil wants his son to be as far from California as possible. It's stupid. His mom left without a trace, why resurface after so many years? That's not a threat. Billy's money on the opposite idea - Max's father could be involved in that shit. Maybe Susan wanted to tear all strings with that man.

Maybe not. Billy really doesn't give a flying fuck.

One year, that's it, then Billy can leave wherever his eyes take him. University on scholarship, very possible. Has to study hard, of course, and he can when he wants it... Maybe a gap year. Maybe just a job, in that same garage in San Diego, why not, really?

He just needs to fucking leave. He doesn't owe anyone shit. Well, we do owe, as his father always tells him. Life is full of responsibilities, that's real.

Mom left him. She didn't and doesn't owe anything to anyone. She probably had this in mind when she ran.

If Billy is really honest, it's all crap. We do owe, if we love someone. Or if someone is just close to you. He hates to agree with Neil, but sometimes he does.

Mom. Mom is his pain, and only his. No one cares about this, and no one needs to. No-one has to know. Everything is clear as the brightest daylight. Only this voiceless Susan wouldn't run away from Neil. Billy noticed that Susan's eyes are always cast down when Neil's at it with him. She avoids looking, like if she doesn't look, she doesn't have to deal with it, that's not her problem. She doesn't see the problem.

Maybe that's her secret. Cause living with Neil is truly unbearable. All brains will be thoroughly fucked by his dull moral teachings. With Billy's mom? It sure didn't work out. She tried though, for eight fucking years. It couldn't have worked out between Neil and her.

Billy remembers, Neil was so angry and jealous too. She must've found somebody else.

Billy understands it. It's just that, why have a child, a question for all of you responsible fucking adults? Was it really necessary to have him? They shouldn't have had him. What the fuck for? Only to quit? To abandon your kid? Leave him all alone in the house with Neil fucking Hargrove?

Yeah, Neil didn't quit on him. Thanks for that, I guess, Dad. I'd really appreciate it if you were less of an asshole, but that's probably on me. Uh-oh, the son turned out completely wrong.

Billy would, truly appreciate the fact that Neil hadn't abandoned him, if his father hadn't drained Billy's whole soul during all these years.

It was a fucking dick move to bring Billy into the world, like, no-one benefitted from it. Fucking useless.

Billy knows he won't have children. Well, maybe, but only in the distant, faraway future. Kids are actually cool, and Billy always pities them with his whole turned-out-not-the-way-we-wanted heart. Adults generally don't give a shit what the kids think or feel. They just use them, for... literally for anything. Own ambitions, exaggerated expectations, an outlet for frustration and aggression. Money. The sense of being in power. Dump it all on the kids, they are resilient. They'll adapt, everything is fine. They'll manage.

If Billy ever, ever, gets a little creature to raise, then he will definitely never leave them. Maybe he won't marry at all. If everything goes well, he might take a kid from an orphanage when he's like... 40 or something. He can be a single father, why not? Relationships are overrated. Marriage is overrated. Love is mostly bullshit, people fuck and have kids, then they run from their children like from the plague. Very few actually care about kids. In these seldom cases, the little motherfuckers have hit the jackpot.

Billy has always liked kids. Little ones, not the obnoxious teens like Max. The worst age, for fuck’s sake. No, the little kids who look at the world with wide open eyes and say the most honest shit there is. Still unbroken. Still happy, even if they've already seen that life's fucking unfair. Even if the world has shown them its ugly face, but they still somehow believe it.

Okay, what the fuck, enough with that cesspool of sadness, what's wrong with him. It's fucking pathetic.

It's probably just the first day in a new place, the nerves are acting up. Well, they've already been here a week, but it's the new school day, so.

He'll just have to hold out for a year here, fuck, it's only nine months basically, and then beat it, dust under the tires, miles away from his dad.

Dammit, is Max going to school today or not? Neil has already left for work, so there's no harm in showing a little disrespect. Billy honks the car horn couple of times, out of irritation.

Finally, Max rolls out of the house, thank fuck for that. Red-haired monster.

She jumps into the passenger's seat, like it wasn't on her.

"Mom was packing lunch!"

"Mom? Lunch? Well, hold on then, you dimwit. It's gonna be your fault."

Billy calmly drives away from the house to a safe distance and then floors the gas pedal, not without a tinge of pleasure. Makes the music louder, Scorpions are so good this fine morning. Let's fucking go.

He hears Max shrieking something like, "Billy, are you nuts?!? We're gonna crash!"

Same old, every goddamn time. Like Max really thinks Billy's gonna slow down if she's hollering like the chickenshit that she is. He's just gonna go faster.

"You should've packed your stupid lunch quicker. Now we're gonna be late because of you. And don't even think of ratting me out to the parents for speeding."

Max pouts and shuts up. She only clings to the safety belt, as if it would help her if they crashed for real. They won't. Billy knows his car like the back of his hand and he is an excellent driver. Driving and cars are two things that he's pretty good at.

Billy also likes basketball. Dribbling that ball, blood pumping, shoving other guys' sweaty lean bodies around the pitch, the euphoria of scoring.

And he has... well, had a great surfboard. Left it at a friend's place back in Cali, the fuck he was gonna do with a board in Hawkins, fucking Indiana. The friend promised not to use it too much but to take it out for a spin occasionally. He put in the garage, told Billy to come back for it. With god's help, Billy will surf on it again one day.

That's like his best friend, Nick. They've known each other for ages. Billy sometimes caught himself thinking that he would probably try something with Nick. Something like fooling around, in bed, that is. Billy thought about it a couple of times when they were stoned as fuck, sitting on the floor of Nick's bedroom. But Nick had a girlfriend since forever. Like real love and everything. And Billy respected that. Also like... Billy isn't stupid. There is no need to throw sex into the mix with good friendship. Now with the new school starting, everything will get going, he should call Nick, tell him how fucking lame it is here, ask how things are back in San Diego.

Billy wonders if they have some good weed here. There is a plastic bag at the bottom of his suitcase, under all his clothes. Nick gave it to him as a parting gift. Not to go completely off the rails with boredom here.

Drugs? Billy saw what drugs do to people. No, thanks. He smokes weed, but that's it. Well, he has tried molly a couple of times they went to big events with a crowd, but anyway, it's a fucking slippery slope, so no.

Alcohol, cigarettes, weed, sex when it's available. Driving his baby around which makes him feel alive. Working out. No surfing here obviously, but he's already signed up for the school basketball team.

Without all this maddening pressure from his dad and his heavy hand, Billy's life wouldn’t actually be so bad.

In California. Here it's gonna suck ass.

At the bottom of the suitcase there are also magazines, the latest issues. Not only the latest ones, but also those that he especially likes.

And if he has a couple of another kind of mags lying around under ordinary Playboys, then this is only his business. His father would kill him on the spot, no doubt about that, if he ever found out. But Neil didn't even welcome girls. Called them all whores anyways, like Billy wasn't even able to find anyone good.

First you need to get an education, son, decide on a job, and only then date a respectable girl, blah blah blah. Well, he's basically right about getting a job and stuff. Like...a relationship is at the bottom of Billy's priority list right now. Hell, it's not even on the list.

So Billy would bring a girl home only if he knew for sure that his father was not there and would not be for a long time. Billy couldn't even imagine what would happen if he brought a guy home. Ohh what a shitshow it would be. It'd definitely end up being a crime scene with the police and that yellow tape.

There is also Susan. And Max, the fucking snitch. Yeah, fuck it. At least masturbation to any kind of magazines won't bring him unwanted problems.

Also, if you do bring a girl home and they catch you, you'll end up answering all these annoying questions. What and who, what's her name and who are the parents... Who the fuck cares who her parents are. What were you doing there in your room, Billy? We were listening to music and holding hands, for fuck’s sake, Dad, leave me alone. Nope. Leave me alone - that's a very wrong thing to say to his father. Billy will immediately get smacked on the lips for such disrespect. Or worse.

Billy takes out another cigarette and lights up. Well, here's the new school. He drove so fast, they got here in under seven minutes. Of course, upon approaching the parking lot, he had to slow down, one of his most favourite songs blasting through the speakers.

Fucking hell, Billy still can't believe he ended up in this godforsaken swamp of a town. He misses his life back in Cali, he was doing so good there. It's gonna be a hell of a long year.

"Don't be late after school or you're skating home."

Max doesn't even say thank you for the ride, just bangs the door. What a spoiled little brat. Billy hates it when she does that, he hates that she gets away with it, she gets away with fucking everything. Next time she slams the door of his car, he's gonna teach her not to ever do it again.

He sets his boot on the ground. Heavy. Like his fucking heart.

Max is off to the middle school.

Billy is scanning the parking lot. Everything looks ordinary, everyone is busy with their own stuff. Most of the cars are the boring usual, but a couple catch his eye... That BMW over there looks interesting, apparently, someone got lucky with a rich daddy. That must be the rich kid, in a striped polo, bleh. He eats money for breakfast, it's so obvious. Staring at Billy like he's just seen Jesus descending from the clouds. What a dumb bitch. He must be the hottest one around here. Hairstyle and all that, a girl hanging on his arm. Surrounded by the court of jesters and such. Billy fucking hates rich kids. They are full of shit, rotten through and through.

Not far away, there are girls lined up in a row, assessing the new guy. There, in California, Billy was, of course, a 10 out of 10, but honestly lots of guys there were fit, tanned, with dazzling smiles and that special something about them. Like they are... carefree. Life by the ocean gives you this, like a gift. No matter how much it hurt sometimes, the ocean always, always helped. Healed him. It's 1779 miles away now. The Atlantic is closer. Billy craves water washing over his feet.

So yeah, Billy looks good. He knows it. However, if back in California Billy's looks are nothing special, here, oh here he'll be a fucking curiosity. He bets he'll get lots of girls drooling to get a piece of his hot ass.

They are already checking out his car. Well, sure he can have fun, it's the last year of school, after all. Just nothing serious. And, most importantly, no one gets pregnant. Double bag it.

Billy was already beginning to get the sense of dull annoyance, with girls. They just want to get the status of a girlfriend. Then plan their whole life, his too. He doesn't fucking need it. So who cares about a relationship. Sex with no feelings involved is always a good option though.

Billy smiles to himself as he sees the chicks twirling their hair. A couple of them don't look so bad either. The rest is meh.

He throws what's left of his cigarette and heads for his first class.

@dragonflylady77 a huge thank you for your help💖

***

Chapter 2

[kooktrash]

omg hi i was the one who sent in the spooky request 🫣 here it is again bby HAHA 💘:

could u please do yandere!neighbor taehyung x innocent reader where he helps her around the house a lot (chores, homework, etc) just so he can have an snoop around her things and spy on her. reader is also very innocent/naive and tae takes advantage of this by slowly corrupting her.

one day tae steals a spare key and makes it a nightly thing to visit reader and touch her while she’s sleeping. usually, he’s slick about it and even drugs her on some nights to make sure she stays asleep. until one day, reader wakes up in the middle of the night to tae in between her legs and u know the drill hehe the rest is up really up to u dear author 🖤✨

sickening love | kim taehyung

drabble: SMUT, DUBCON, SOMNOPHILIA [do not read if uncomfortable], oral sex [f recieving], manipulation, yandere Taehyung, breaks into y/n’s house, neighbor Tae, obsessed Tae, naive y/n, gaslighting, etc.

It had started with a knock at first. A simple and gorgeous smile on his face as he introduced himself to his new neighbor. Of course you hadn’t known that he was infatuated the day he saw you moving in exactly two months ago. It had been a slow, calculated first meeting. He had dressed in his best clothes, styled his hair more than usual, wore expensive perfume. All just to say hello to you. Now, he’s not sure if he could ever live without you. Who else would protect your nativity and corrupt your innocence? Surely not any of this so-called close friends of yours. The ones he’d grind his teeth at when one would sleep over and he’d have to leave. He snaked his way into your life by doing small favors for you. He learned your schedule early on, always making sure you ride in the elevator together every morning and afternoon. Of course you didn’t know he had no reason to do any of that. He does keep secrets from you but once you’re together he’ll be honest.

“I can’t do any more Tae, please can we take a break?” You asked one evening as he helped you with your homework. You were still in college, young and 21, too trusting that’s for sure. He was older but not by much, even if he acted like your caretaker and you let him. Why? Because you didn’t know how to be independent and Taehyung loved that. It was your first time living alone. Your life had always been sheltered not only by your parents but by friends too. You’d always had a sense of innocence around you. Too trusting because nobody in your life had ever done anything to deliberately hurt you and Taehyung would do the same. Taehyung basically forced himself into your everyday life and you hadn’t even realized it. Your friends told you it was strange but maybe you were naive and too trusting. Never being on your own you haven’t learned how to truly be independent so it was easy to depend on Taehyung, ultimately a stranger.

“You’re almost done sweetie, I can get you a little snack if you’d like,” he said with a little smile as he pet your head already moving to stand up. You were finishing up an exam on your laptop that you had been stalling till the last minute. Taehyung was the one who offered to help you since he’d taken the exact same quiz when he took the class in college. In truth though, he didn’t even attend the same university that you did when he was in school. He came back from the kitchen holding a plate of cut fruit and a glass of water. You reached for the fork but he got to it before you could and fed a piece to you. It went on like this until you finished your exam.

He helped you clear the table, a part of him realizing how domestic this all was and how he wanted to make you his already. But you’re like a kitten, if he gets too close so soon you’ll run away. He had to take baby steps so you could trust him.

A light buzzing came from your phone and before he could look at the caller you were standing up with phone in hand, “Jungkook!”

He rolled his eyes as you excused yourself to your room to answer and before he knew it he was going to follow. His ear pressed against the door trying to decipher the muffling but his blood was beginning to boil, thrumming in his eardrums. He could practically picture you right now. Smile on your face, giggling about something your friend said. The same friend who’s in love with you and wants to make sure you stay away from Taehyung. His jaw clenched as he backed away from the door, he couldn’t have you catch him eavesdropping. He walked past by your door, looking down at your entrance table, a silver shining object catching his eye.

He looked back to your bedroom door still hearing you talk and his feet took him toward the trinket bowl where your keys sat. Next to your main keychain was a single silver key and as he held up comparing it to your other key he noticed it was for the apartment. Without another thought he dropped the key into his pocket getting away from the table and sitting down to wait for you. It was a rush, his hands shaking at the thought circling his mind. He has only been able to be at your apartment when you’re in class.

He would steal a package of yours or watch a new piece of furniture come and he’d convince you to let him help you when you were gone. He’d take his time looking at all your photos, looking in your drawers, in your bathroom, anything. He’d smell your scented shampoos and wrap your blanket around him taking in your sweet smell. He will admit that he might’ve taken a pair or two of your underwear but it was the clean ones. He still too nervous to go through your hamper. Now that he’s got the key he could do so much more than just snoop while you’re not home.

“Sorry, Jungkook wanted to know if he was picking me up tomorrow and then I got distracted,” you said as you came out, completely unaware of what Taehyung just did. He smiled, “It’s alright but it’s getting late, maybe I should head home now.”

It happened two nights after. Taehyung had been hanging out with you when he was off work and crushed a few tablets of Melatonin into your water. He didn’t want you drugged up, but melatonin would surely knock you out. He mixed the water with a flavor packet and you hadn’t tasted the sleeping supplements.

Taehyung let out a shaky breath at the image in front of him. Your sleeping figured curled up under the sheets in a deep slumber. He pulled the sheets back immediately biting back a groan at the sight. You slept in only a t-shirt and panties, the t-short was twisted and your panties barely covered anything. You stirred at the sudden exposure, but didn’t wake up.

He took a seat at the edge of the bed. He shouldn’t do this, right? Yet even as he thought that his hand was gliding along your soft leg, goosebumps raising on your skin that he tried to soothe. “I have to,” he whispered to himself thinking back to all those times he dreamt about this. Of course you were awake in those dreams but this would have to do. Things weren’t going as quickly as he hoped and he just couldn’t take it anymore. He had to have you, that way your friends such as Jungkook won’t steal you from him. He spread your legs carefully.

His eyes fell shut as he placed gentle kisses on your thigh, your heat coming closer and closer. He took a deep inhale smelling hints of your body wash. He had stolen a small amount one day and washed his own body with it. Without your knowledge, your body was reacting to his proximity. He could practically see the smell wet patch forming on your underwear and it’s only then that he realized how close he had actually gotten. His nose brushed against the thin material of underwear.

“You won’t be mad, right?” he teased the lips of your cunt through the fabric, his thumb running over your clit, “You have to understand baby, I need this. I’ve been so patient and you don’t even realize it.”

Taehyung did not hesitate to pull your underwear down, eyes locking at the glistening pushy. You had already been wet and he wondered if you were having a wet dream, maybe about him. Lord knows he’s had too many with you as the star.

He dipped tongue inside to taste you, not being able to hold back. A moan slipped past his lips as he sunk his tongue between your pussy lips, nose bumping your clit before lapping up some of the slick. His eyes locked on your face, almost daring you to wake up but you simply withered in his hold. His hands held your thighs apart giving himself more room between your legs.

He knew you’d be sweet. Everything about you was just so sweet, even your essence and it drove him mad, clearly. He’d never done anything like this, he never put this much effort into someone but you were different. You were destined to be his and that thought alone was enough for his hardened member to brush against the mattress.

He was getting ahead of himself, his middle finger massaged your outer folds, lathering his digit with your slick, running it up your slit and poking at your clit. It was dark and he wished he could your pretty cunt but he knew he can’t turn the light on. In a stroke downward his fingers dipped into the ring of nerves at your entrance, already feeling so tight. He had wetness dribbling down his chin along with a little bit of drool and he couldn’t take it anymore. He wanted to bring you so much pleasure, so he let his finger sink in. The puffs of your tight walls hugged his finger snugly and he was groaning at the feel. He looked down at your clit before bringing his lips down onto it, sucking gently as if it was a nipple all while his finger began to thrust in and out.

You began to stir in your sleep but he was too far gone. He needed to taste your release and it had him sinking his ring finger in as well. Your brows scrunched together and he watched your face contort in confusion or pleasure while his tongue flicked over your clit, moving it around with his probing.

“Ah,” you whined but he didn’t stop. Not even when your hand was flying down toward your heat wondering what was happening. Your hand landed in his hair and his eyes rolled. Yes, touch me too, he thought as he sped up his ministrations.

Your eyes widened, sleep draining from your body as you released a loud moan. You looked down at the soft locks you were holding, mouth drawing open in bewilderment, “Tae? W—what, ngh, Wait…”

He didn’t, he kept going feeling the pulse of your walls meaning you were close. You tugged on his hair to get him to stop but the pull only turned him on even more. Your head dropped back, “Please, sto—“

He pulled away, crawling up your body bringing his fingers to his mouth for a taste. He stopped when he was facing you, your noses nearly brushing and he watched your eyes water. “What are you do—“ his lips pressed against yours and you blamed it on the stimulation he’d given you that had your mouth opening to the kiss.

“Shh, don’t you trust me?” He asked peppering your face with gentle kisses, “Aren’t we friends?”

“Yes, but how’d you—Tae!” He sucked along your neck wanting to create love bites on your skin. His hands groped your sides, “Don’t you like me? Don’t you think I’m handsome?”

You thought about it for a second. Of course he was handsome but he’s your friend. He went on kissing down your exposed collarbone, “Don’t I always take care of you?”

“You left your door unlocked and I came to tell you,” he pulled at the hem of your shirt, you weren’t wearing a bra and he wanted to kiss the mounds of your breasts, “But you looked in pain, and I don’t like seeing you in pain. Doesn’t it feel good? Getting the release you need baby?”

“I—“ his hand was cupping your breasts through your shirt hiking it up letting the cold hit your exposed cunt, “It does feel good but, aren’t we friends?”

“Friends can help each other sweetie,” he was yanking your shirt up, “Aren’t I helping you right now? Look at your body, it’s so wet and your nipples are so stiff baby, I just wanted to help.”

“You know I’d never hurt you,” he said pulling away to look down at your pretty body. He’s only seen glimpses of it through your cracked door when you change or bathe but it was beautiful, and all his.”

“You don’t want my help?” He made a pout letting his hands cadres your shaking thighs, “Your body wants my help, won’t you let me help? I’ll make you feel so good.”

Your eyes locked with his and he was bucking his hips seeking friction against his jeans. You were so damn beautiful and innocent and naive and perfect for him. You didn’t want him to think you didn’t need him. You did need him but you never expected him to do this. But, he was making you feel good and you had been tense lately. Maybe he sensed it and thought he should help? He helps you with everything else anyway. “Baby?” He called out, his patience running thin wanting to move things along. You nodded and it made his heart skip a beat, “Words honey, use your words.”

“Will you be gentle?” You asked and he audibly moaned, his eyes closing, yes finally.

“Of course,” he leaned down and pressed a soft kiss to your lips, “See? And after, you’ll help me feel good too right? That’s what best friends do.”

You never did this with Jungkook but maybe it’s because Taehyung’s older. Maybe this is how more matured friendships do. You nodded in agreement, “I’ll make you feel good.”

“Fuck, baby you’re so perfect,” he let his head fall against your chest, rubbing his face between your breasts with his mouth drawn open, “Tomorrow I’ll take you shopping. I’ll buy you whatever you want because you’re such a good girl. Aren’t you baby? Aren’t you my good girl?”

You nodded and he smiled, he looked like a predator as he began to slide down your legs to continue what he’d done when you were asleep.

::.

ok fr thanks for sending this in. I’ve been wanting to do a yandere Tae but my minds been going blank lately

[starlitangels]

(Still) Not a Tank

A little race/role swap AU for Sam and Darlin’. There’s a lot more to explore in this AU. No promises for a Part 2 but it might be fun... 3.4k words

—

“See ya tomorrow, Audrey Jane!” Sam called as he shoved open the door to the healer’s clinic, keys already in his hand.

“See ya, Sam!” Audrey Jane called back.

Whistling, Sam unlocked his truck and climbed up into it. He turned over the engine and shut the radio off. It had been a long day and Dahlia’s Top 40 was the last thing he wanted to get jammed into his brain. Music was nice in the morning to help him wake up, but after the long day, he didn’t want anymore.

Despite the day being long, it had also been slow and boring. Not a lot of healing to do, but that was partially because his class had taken a lot of burden off the clinic staff in order to get their practical, hands-on experience.

The nice thing about clinic life was the hours. Three twelve-and-a-half-hour shifts per week with four days off, and he skipped rush hour. Which meant it took him twenty minutes to drive home instead of an hour. Twenty minutes during which he decompressed from the stress of the day.

After parking in his garage, Sam pulled out a container from the meal prep he’d done yesterday, reheated it, and ate quickly. He was hungry—having not eaten since about two and it was half-past nine.

Once he ate, he moved to go upstairs to shower, but froze. His house’s property bordered the woods. Wildlife sounds weren’t uncommon.

The snarling he heard was not wildlife. It didn’t sound like shifters getting in a tussle either.

Completely unable to ignore the concern that sprang up in his chest, he shoved into his boots and ran out the backdoor.

Maybe for some people, one person running headlong into the woods would seem dangerous and reckless. But Sam was a Freelancer—and a strong one, as far as Freelancers went. He wasn’t scared of wildlife—and he sure as hell wasn’t scared of other empowereds.

He followed the sounds of violence deeper into the trees, noticing scuffs in the hard-packed earth and broken bushes and branches all along the way. Whatever was tangling, they were both big and both really strong. There were no whines of pain like an animal or a shifter would make, and Sam could sense the subtlest echoes of magic. He had one guess.

Vampires.

There came several cries of pain from up ahead, and then the telltale Zip of vampires taking off at top speed. A moment after the Zips faded, Sam heard a thud.

He kept going. Heavy breathing met his ears the closer he got. He swung around a tree trunk—

And there was a person, lying in the dirt. Technically lying on their side, but tilted dangerously steep like they were going to fall on their face. Their aura was subdued when his magic reached out to sense it. But he’d recognize a vampire’s aura anyway.

He rushed over. They were covered in blood. A decent chunk of it their own. If the gashes in their skin were anything to go by.

He knew vampires regenerated quickly. Healing magic could kickstart the process, but usually they didn’t need it. But as he knelt next to the half-conscious vampire, he didn’t see any sign of their wounds closing up. “Oh, God,” he whispered. His hands hovered over them, unsure of where to start. “Hey, can you hear me?”

No response.

Sam took a deep breath and sighed. “Can’t heal ‘em out here,” he muttered. He shook his head and rolled them onto their back.

Suddenly, silver eyes snapped open. Fangs protruded from their mouth as they snarled and tried to scramble back—but got cut off with a yelp as their hands flew to one of the injuries on their side. “Get away from me!” they spat.

“Whoa there, darlin’,” Sam said. “I’m a healer. I’m not gonna hurt you.”

They tried again to move, but their body wouldn’t let them do much more than jerk without a recoil of pain. Sam put his hands up to show he meant no harm.

“Look, I’m not the one who just got in a fight with three vamps—”

“Four,�� they snapped. “And, for the record, I won.”

Sam made a show of taking stock of their injuries. “Uh-huh. Whatever you say,” he remarked sarcastically. They growled at him. “I can start fixin’ you up. Ya just gotta work with me. Can I pick you up?”

“I would rather—” The vampire tried to stand, but convulsed. “Yeah, yeah okay. Fine.”

Sam scooped them up as gently as he could and started to pick his way back the way he’d come. The vampire was holding their side. Sam suspected they probably broke at least one rib. “You from one of the clans ‘round here?” he asked, trying to make conversation.

They scoffed. “Only one in this city,” they choked out.

He shrugged. “Doesn’t mean y’ain’t from the surroundin’ region.”

“Nah. Moved to Dahlia long before I turned. Stayed after I turned.”

“So you’re Solaire Clan?”

“Mmhmm.”

Sam smacked his lips. “Is that sour grapes I taste?”

“Mind your business,” they spat, fangs snapping out and digging into their lower lip.

“Just tryna keep ya talkin’, darlin’. Keeps your mind off the pain. And you don’t seem the type to respond to the usual bedside manner tricks,” he remarked casually.

“I could kick your ass into next year, you know.”

“Oh without a doubt,” he agreed. “But in order to do that, you’ll have to be able to stand. Which you currently can’t. So I’m gonna take care of that for ya, okay?”

They growled again. But with a huff, they didn’t bother to argue. Despite the fact that they were clearly turned in their mid-twenties, they had an impetuous teenager attitude brewing around them.

“I’m Sam,” he said.

“Okay.”

He rolled his eyes. “What’s your name, darlin’?”

They didn’t reply. Just tensed their arm holding their side. Sam “Hmm”ed and ducked under a busted branch.

“If you don’t tell me your name, I’m just gonna keep callin’ ya ‘darlin’’,” he said.

They grunted.

He shrugged. “Alright.”

The rest of the walk back to his house was short, but spent in silence. He used a bit of Psychokinesis to open the back door and took them upstairs, putting the vampire in the shower/tub combo of the guest bathroom. They groaned in pain. Sam made a sympathetic face, waiting for them to find a comfortable position.

Once they settled, he scanned them with his eyes again. “Okay. I'm gonna clean the wounds first. It’s gonna sting.”

“I’m familiar.”

“Were you empowered before you turned?”

“Yup. Shifter.”

Sam swore quietly under his breath. “Hard to make the change?”

“Not really. Fighting as a wolf, fighting as a vamp—one less step in between. Still use my teeth and claws.” They flexed their hands to show off sharp nails. Not quite claws, but he understood the sentiment. “Just get to stay on two feet and maintain use of my thumbs.”

“I meant the lifestyle change. Pack to clan. From what I’ve heard packs are much tighter-knit than clans.”

“They are. But I was always more solitary by nature anyway.”

Sam cleaned out all their wounds in a burst of magic while they spoke. They wrenched out a swear before going limp in the bathtub.

“Coulda warned me,” they growled.

“Hurts less when it’s a surprise.”

“No it doesn’t.”

“Know that from experience, do you?” Sam sniped.

“Yes, actually,” the vampire shot back. Sam stared. “You’ll see.”

Not knowing what they meant, he shook his head and went back to what he knew. Healing. “Mind if I move your clothes around to see your wounds?”

With some fidgeting and grunting, the vampire fully stripped their shirt off. “Don’t care,” they said.

Sam certainly did. He’d seen patients without any clothes on before. That wasn’t what startled him.

No. He was startled by this vampire’s body. Covered in scars that even a vampire’s healing factor or the act of turning them couldn’t fix. Not to mention the muscles packed tight under their skin. He made himself ignore his curiosity about the tattoo peeking around the arm farthest away from him and get to work.

“Can I touch? Healin’ works better if I—”

“I know. Go for it.”

Sam gently probed at their side. They hissed. “Yeah, that’s broken,” he murmured to himself. “Just… take a slow breath in. Not too deep. Just slow.” He inhaled with them. “And out.” As they exhaled, he healed the broken bone. They twitched, but otherwise didn’t react. “Took that well.”

“I’ve been healed a lot,” they grumbled. “Usually by my best friend in the pack back when I was a shifter.”

“One of the ones around here, I’m guessin’?”

Jaw tight, the vampire nodded. “Shaw.”

Sam blinked, startled. “As in Gabe and David?”

“Yup.” They sucked a deep breath in through clenched teeth, and slowly exhaled.

Then gave him their name.

Sam blinked. “I… know that name.”

“Duh. It was all over empowered news about fifteen years ago,” they ground out. Sam guided them through another inhale and exhale as he healed the worst gash he could see—the one on their other side just over their hip. “That’s why I don’t use it much anymore. Can’t get a lick of privacy when the Shaw Pack’s beta—” They snarled the word out. “—runs afoul of a damn leech and gets turned because of it. Even fifteen years later.”

“What happened?”

“Don’t you read the news?”

“No.” Sam healed what must have been a broken finger. They bit out another sharp curse.

“Damn bastard named Quinn. Nomadic. He doesn’t have a clan. He and I got in a fight when he strayed into Gabe’s territory. I just about had him beat when he caught me off guard and pulled a damn trance on me. Crooned about how he never tranced if he could help it—that it wasn’t as fun—but that he knew he couldn’t beat me. Decided to teach me a lesson.” Their fangs slid down into place again. Sam guided them through one more breath to heal another nasty injury. “Bit into his own wrist and made me drink it, then drained me. I passed out.

“When I woke up, William’s first blood, Alexis, had torn Quinn to shreds. I was barely conscious. She carried me back to Will. Dropped me rather unceremoniously on his desk. Said something she’s never explained about rectifying a mistake of hers, told William I was his problem now, and then left the office.

“I spent the next year being shepherded through my bloodlust by William and Vincent with no maker. Which suits me just fine. After I was out of it, William offered me a place in the clan. I wanted to leave but I couldn’t get back the life I’d lost. Gabe had replaced me with Adrian and was right to do so. Striking out on my own sounded great but… I owed a great debt to Will and Vincent for taking care of me. By the time I estimated I’d repaid them both, I’d grown too damn attached to them and just… kept… not leaving. So I stayed.”

The entire time they spoke, Sam used their distraction to heal them without them dwelling on their pain. Sounded like they needed to get it off their chest anyway. Fifteen years was a long time to hold onto that story, and he imagined they’d never told anyone else.

“Alright. If you don’t use your name anymore, what name do you use? What do I call you?” he asked as he finished up the last of the worst injuries. Their healing factor seemed to have finally gotten with the program and stitched up the little stuff.

“Gabe used to say I was built like a tank. Caught on with the pack. They called me Tank when they were being funny. That’s still what I use when I don’t want to draw attention to myself.”

Sam raised a brow. “Think I’ll just stick to ‘darlin’’,” he remarked.

They scoffed. “Whatever.”

“It’s been a while since you fed, isn’t it?”

“What?” Their tone turned even sharper than it had been. Defending a weakness, he thought.

“You weren’t healin’ naturally as fast as most vamps your age could. Only reason for that I know of is when a vamp hasn’t fed in a while.”

“Mind your business.”

“I’m a healer, darlin’. The health of my patient is my business.”

A growl rumbled low in their chest. They assessed their body with a sharp gaze. “Looks like I’m all healed up now, though. Not your patient anymore. So… Thank you, Sam. I'll get out of your hair.”

They moved to get up, but Sam put a hand on their shoulder. “Now hold on, darlin’. Healin’ magic that deep will knock you right out. If you pass out on the run back to your clan’s den, you could plow face-first into a tree.”

“I know how to power through the fatigue.”

“You shouldn’t have to. Got a clanmate’s number I can call to have someone come pick you up?” he asked. They opened their mouth—presumably to protest again—so he cut them off. “Because it’s that or you’re stayin’ the night in my spare room.”

They dodged out from under his hand on their shoulder. “No thanks,” they said.

“Alright. Who should I call?”

“Ghostbusters,” they retorted sarcastically. Then sighed. “William’s probably the easiest to reach. He’s always in his office all night. I don’t know the number off the top of my head and my phone’s at home but if you look up Solaire Property Management on Google Maps, you’ll find the building number. You can get to William that way. Or one of the clan.” They smirked sarcastically. “If you’re tech-savvy enough for that.”

Sam rolled his eyes and pulled his phone out. “Surprisin’ as it might seem, you and I are probably not that different in age.”

“Probably not,” they agreed, stretching. They narrowed those silver eyes. “Let me guess… mid… late seventies?”

“Late.”

They nodded. “Eighty-one,” they said. “You’ve got five years on me, max.”

He chuckled. “Yup.” He’d found the Solaire Property Management building on Google Maps and tapped the phone number, selecting the Call option and holding it up to his ear.

It rang three times before, “Solaire Property Management, this is Astoria. How may I help you?” The woman had a faded European accent.

“Hi there. My name is Sam Collins. I’m a healer and I found one of your clanmates pretty beaten-up out in the woods behind my property after pickin’ a fight with four other vamps. I patched them up but they’re really not in any shape to be runnin’ home. Healin’ magic tends to make people drowsy. I was hopin’ someone in your clan could come pick them up.”

There was a long pause. “What’s the address?”

Sam relayed his address.

“Tell Tank that Vincent will be there soon,” Astoria said.

“How did you—”

Astoria cut off a laugh before it fully made it out of her throat. “Who else would it be? The only other member of the clan reckless enough to pick an unwinnable fight like that got his head torn off last year.” She cleared her throat. “Vincent is on his way.”

“Thank you kindly, ma’am,” Sam said.

“Thank you for healing them.”

“Just doin’ my job.” Sam hung up.

Tank snorted humorlessly. “Of course she knew it was me,” they groaned, leaning their head against the back of the bathtub. “She’s right. Adam was the only other member of the clan stupid enough to do what I did—except he was worse and got what was definitely coming to him.”

“And you?”

“I will one day, probably. But, this time at least, I was defending my clan’s territory from raiders. Smaller clan in the region who keeps trying to snipe our territory out from under us. Third time this year I've found rogues in my woods.”

Sam hummed in thought. “Listen, darlin’, I know you’re a vampire and your healin’ is good. But you should come into the clinic near the academy campus later this week. Give it three days to see how you’re healin’ up. I’ll be workin’ that day. I’ll stay till the sun’s down so I can check up on you, okay?”

Tank opened their mouth, but no sound came out. “You’re not giving me a choice, are you?”

“‘Course I am. It’s your life. It’s your health. But, as a healer, I have to do my due diligence. And I want to make sure you’re okay.”

They blinked slowly at him. “Okay,” they said. “I’ll see you in three days.”

“See you in three days.”

Sam helped them gingerly pick their way out of the bathtub. Blood clung to the ceramic. He would clean it later. Carefully, he monitored their progress down the stairs and led them to the front door and out onto the porch.

They waited all of ten minutes before bright headlights swung around the corner and a sleek, cherry-red Mustang pulled up in front of the house.

Sam whistled. “Nice car,” he said.

“Vincent loves them,” Tank grumbled.

A man who appeared only a few years younger than Tank climbed out of the car, dressed in a suit with no jacket on. He was tall and pale, with curly black hair almost blue in the moonlight. He braced his elbows on the roof of the car and perched his chin on his hands. An impish smile was already on his face. “What’d you do this time, slugger?” he asked playfully.

Tank muttered some choice words under their breath. The young man laughed.

“You wish,” he retorted.

“Sam, this is Vincent Solaire,” Tank said. “Vincent, this is Sam.”

With a Zip, Vincent was standing on the porch, a hand out. “Hey,” he greeted. “I assume you’re the one to thank for the fact that this pain in the ass is on their feet?”

Tank hissed at him. Vincent hissed back, but he was smiling.

Sam shook Vincent’s hand. “If that’s how you want to put it,” he said.

“Pleasure to meet you. Vincent Solaire.”

Tank groaned and scoffed with a roll of their eyes. “Stop flirting, Vin,” they spat, grabbing Vincent’s wrist and starting to pull him off the porch.

“I just said hello!” Vincent protested, hopping along, off-balance, behind them.

“For you that’s flirting,” they retorted, shoving him at the driver’s side of the car. Vincent rolled his own eyes and climbed back in. Tank hesitated before ducking in. They glanced back at Sam. “Thanks again, Sam.”

He gave them a smile. “You’re welcome, darlin’,” he replied.

They smiled back—just a little one—and ducked into the car. The engine revved and the car sped off, back the way it had come.

Inside it, Vincent turned a playful grin on his clanmate. “‘Darlin’’?” he quoted.

Tank shoved him in the shoulder. “Shut up,” they snapped.

—

William looked up from his desk as two of his progeny—only one in blood, the other in bond—stepped into his office. The younger of the two drenched in blood. He pulled his reading glasses off his nose. “What happened to you?” he asked, concern dripping from his tone.

Vincent snickered and took up a post by the door. Just in case they tried to escape to get out of an awkward conversation again.

The younger vampire plopped down in one of the leather armchairs across the desk from William. “Oh. Y’know. Scared four vampires off our turf and got put through the wringer for my troubles. Typical Monday for me,” they said sarcastically.

William sighed and steepled his fingers. “What are we going to do with you?” he asked with a fond smile on his face.

“I think we should keep ‘em,” Vincent joked. He was rewarded with Tank’s middle finger flashed in his direction. William gave them a disappointed glance, and they shoved their hand in the torn pocket of their jeans, their own expression turning from irritated to apologetic.

William pulled a blood bag out of the mini-fridge built into his desk and passed it over. “Feed, my dear,” he said. “You need it.”

They didn’t protest. Just took it from his hand.

“Once that’s empty, Vincent will take you home. I expect you to clean up and get some rest, do you understand?”

“Yes sir,” they said.

“Now. Tell me what happened?”

Taking a deep breath as they opened the blood bag, they launched into the full story.

—

Tag list: @zozo-01 @shellssstuff @thegoldenlittlerose @darlin-collins

[joshslater]

Bleecker House

Partial rewrite of an unnamed story by jovialpersonheroflap. Similar stories and bonus material on my Patreon.

“But surely there must be some mistake, I didn’t even choose this dorm as one of my three preferences!” I felt a pit in my stomach. Ever since I got the acceptance letter I've read everything I could online, web pages, blogs, social media, to get to know the University as best I could three states away. You could sense the eye-rolls through the screen every time someone mentioned a student from the Bleecker House, or Bleacher House as it was commonly known. The jock dorm.

“Yes,” replied the admin, “but if you read the terms and conditions, it does say that you may be assigned to a random dorm in the unlikely event that none of your preferences are available. We make sure that as many of our students who ask for specific dorms get them, but this is just one of those years when the math didn't add up. I'm sorry.”

"Isn’t there some other room? In another dorm?" I knew my judgment was clouded with unfounded bias. I'm sure they were all great guys, they passed the entry requirements after all, but it's just that I spent so many years in active opposition to jocks. In my eyes they were dimwitted bullies who ruined my day more than once over the years. More pragmatically I'd have nothing in common with them as a lanky English major with barely passing theoretical knowledge of any sport.

The admin kept clicking around on the computer, presumably rerunning the same queries a second time. “No, I’m afraid we seem to be full. If you wait a few weeks someone may have dropped out but you’d have to find alternate accommodation until then.”

I sighed. With everything I had to buy there was no way I could afford staying somewhere else, if there even was anything available.

“I can’t do that, I guess I’ll just have to bear it.” The admin smiled and handed me a room key and a map.

“I’m sure you'll find you have more in common than you think. You're all students after all.”

“Sure. I guess,” I muttered under my breath.

I rolled my suitcase through campus and through the dorm following the map, and easily found my room, a double on the second floor. Glued on the door were two small football jerseys in paper, one with my name on it and one saying "Dean". I took a deep breath. Maybe she was right. Maybe it wouldn’t be so bad after all. Just because this was known as the jock dorm didn't mean everyone there was a jock. I wasn't, so it stood to reason that there would be more students assigned there against their wishes, or just having no idea to begin with.

There wasn’t. Dean was laying in his bed, wearing only baller shorts, scrolling on his phone when I entered. His hair was wet like he had just taken a shower. His face lit up as he saw me and jumped out of bed. "Hey bro. Dean!" he said with a smile while reaching out with a hand. His body and the way he moved didn't go together in my mind. Dean was huge, built to a whole different scale than I. Not only tall with a big set of feet to keep him balanced, but wide and thick from years of workout. But I had never before seen anyone so large move so quickly. He was on the football team, he explained for the first time of a million, and promptly asked who I supported. I blanked and said "Lakers" before realizing they play basket. He smiled a wry smile and said "Shrewd move, bro. But honestly I don't care if you don't cheer the Cheifs. That doesn't make us enemies. It just makes you wrong. Come! I'll show you around."

Leaving the room barefoot, wearing nothing but his shorts, he led the way to present everyone and everything. Everyone there was some kind of jock, even the girls. Everyone was dressed in sports jerseys or workout gear, to what degree they wore anything at all. Even most of the girls were lounging around in sports bra and hot pants, revealing their toned tummies or outright six packs in between. Literally everyone in the building could beat me up without effort.

Everyone was nice enough though, despite having nothing in common. At first I thought Dean was trying to educate me on football with his endless lectures about what happened at practice that day or what one of the other guys on the team had said. He was even trying hard to get me to come to practice with him. I could admire the sports things from afar, but it wasn’t something I wanted to get into. After having tried to change the topic from sports I found that it wasn't so much educating me as him not really being able to talk about anything else. Sure, he watched pop culture movies and listened to music like everyone else, but had no deeper insight into art than "fight scenes good" and "loud music relaxing".

I did get used to it. While everyone still acted nice, it was obvious that I was getting more and more ignored. The jocks preferred to talk to other jocks about jock things. I wasn’t really versed in sports lingo. Classic literature was more my speed, but I tried to tackle it as a new subset of literature. I learned more in a month than ever before in my life just by listening. The ones I did talk to repeatedly didn’t seem to have much of any other interests outside of their sport. In fact, some of them were so stupid I wondered how they hadn’t flunked out of college already. The school was probably keeping them on so they could play sports I reckoned. It drives recruitment and revenues so many colleges are willing to bend the rules so long as you could give them that in return.

A month and four days into the semester my cell phone rang in the middle of the night. Afraid I had woken Dean I quickly grabbed the phone from its charing place only to see his name as the caller. 2:46 in the morning said the clock. In the dim light from the phone screen I glanced over at his empty, messy bed to verify he wasn't there before answering. I asked him what was up in a raspy voice and he asked me to come and help him move something at the sports center, as if it was afternoon or something. I told him it was too late, or possibly too early, and hang up on him. The sports center is just outside the dorm, because of course it would be, but I was way too tired to be bothered.

Dean called again, and this time he sounded more panicked. Not quite as drowsy this time I realized he might have gotten in trouble, and needed his roommate to help him out. We might not have anything in common, but at least we were friendly and if he was in trouble this was definitely what dorm mates were for. Besides, it’d be best not to lose the only friend I had in this dorm.

I got to the sports center and met him at the door. He thanked me for coming and led me into the building. We walked in silence.

“So…how are you liking the dorms so far?” he asked, trying to make conversation. The topic felt both random and out of place, and all urgency from the last call had vanished.

"They’re okay, I guess."

"Met anyone interesting?"

"No, not yet. Everyone seems to be really into their sports. It's not really my thing."

"Yeah," he laughed, "we do have a reputation to uphold. I still think it’s weird that you don’t play any sports. I mean, I’d get restless sitting around all day. You need to blow off some steam man, it’s good for the brain."

"Thanks, I’ll keep it in mind."

We came to a door which he opened. It was pitch black and I couldn’t see inside.

"So what did you call me to move, exactly?"

He smiled at me. "You," he said and pushed me inside, probably with more force than he intended. I tumbled down the stairs just inside the door. Fortunately there were only a few steps down to a platform where the stairs took a turn.

"What the fuck man!"

His silhouette chuckled. "Sorry bro. You alright?"

"Couldn’t you just have asked me to walk down the stairs?"

"Better start walking, or we'll be late," he answered, ignoring my annoyance.

I got up and rubbed my side that I’d hit on the fall. Nothing major. At worst maybe a bruise or something. I glared back at Dean's outline and continued down the stairs.

"Late for what?"

"You'll see"

When we reached the bottom it was nearly pitch black, with the only faint light from the door at the top of the stairs.

"I won't see anything with the lights off."

There was no response but I heard Dean shuffling around. I slipped my hands in my pockets and swore. How had I managed to forget my phone? I could have used it as a torch or something. As if on cue, the door at top of the stairs slammed shut with a loud bang.

“Dean! What the fuck!”

I stumbled around in the dark, stretching out my arms in front of me to make sure I didn’t hit anything. I heard a click and a light turned on behind me. I turned around finally got my first look at the room. It was much bigger than I’d thought it was, in fact, the light only illuminated part of it. In the light there was a single chair and a hooded figure standing by it. I was genuinely scared for a moment before I realized what was going on. This must be some sort of initiation, and since it was Dean who brought me, I guessed it was to initiate me into the dorm. At least that would explain why almost no one was talking to me. I walked towards the chair and stopped about six feet away from the hooded figure.

“Very funny Dean, can I go now?”

He said nothing but gestured towards the chair. I sighed and sat. Sportspeople take their initiations way too seriously, and at least this would be a good story to tell.

Out of the shadows emerged five figures, similarly clad to the one who stood next to me. They each carried a red solo cup in their left hand, and either wore or carried items affiliated to different sports in their right hand.  One wore a baseball helmet on his head and a baseball bat in his right hand, another football pads, another held a basket ball, another a lacrosse stick, and the last wore hockey pads and held a hockey stick in his right hand. They all stopped at the same time, well rehearsed, and gave it all an eerie look. I couldn’t see their eyes but they were all faced towards me nonetheless. I looked to the figure next the chair and he gestured towards the other five.

"What do you want me to do?"

He didn’t reply but repeated his gesture. I got up and walked towards the five. Even close up I couldn't see who was wearing the outfits in the dim light. They probably wore neck gaiters or balaclavas or something. I looked in each of their cups.

The first, the baseball one, held an orange drink. It looked and smelled like orange juice except for the black lumps floating in the cup. They didn’t smell of anything, but I couldn’t tell what they were.

The second, the football one, held a yellow drink. It smelled like piss but didn’t look like it. It was murky, with some sediment mixed into it. I also smelt lavender, which felt out of place.

The third, the basketball one, held a green drink. It was transparent but smelled of mint. Actually, the mint smell was so present it smelled like toothpaste. Strong toothpaste.

The fourth, the lacrosse one, held a blue drink. It was carbonated and clear, but it smelled sickly sweet, like they’d added way too much sugar.

The fifth and last, the hockey one, held a white drink. It was white like cream, and smelled overwhelmingly of mayonnaise.

I looked back at the figure next to the chair and he repeated his gesture a third time. I walked back to the one with the lacrosse stick as from what I could tell, his drink looked and smelled the least weird. I wasn’t looking forward to this, not knowing what they’d put in it, but I guessed they wouldn’t let me leave until I drank something. I just hoped that they’d only made me drink one, not all six. I took the blue drink out of his hands and drank. It was both sweet and sour and went down petty easily but burned every so often. I couldn’t finish it in one go, I had to pause a few times to let the burning subside. I finished the drink and looked back at the figure by my chair. It didn’t move. I on the other hand started to sway like I had instantly become smashed. I started to feel my eyelids getting heavy. Why was I suddenly so tired again? It must have been something they put in that drink. My legs gave out and I fell to my knees before lying down on the ground. I tried to hold my head up but I was fighting a losing battle. Eventually I gave in and slumped on the floor, letting the sleep wash over me. I could feel hands grabbing me, carrying me away.

I woke up in pain. My whole body felt uncomfortable. I recalled the kidnapping by Dean at the sports center, the ceremony with the hooded figures and their boozy, drugged up drinks, but then nothing. Nothing clearly anyway. I had this lingering weird dream of being a jersey or something in a laundry basket, carried to the washing room. Then I sat down on the washing machine, but it was an armchair. Then I sank down deep into the armchair. Then the washing machine started and I could smell the sweaty laundry again. You can't smell in dreams though, can you?

I was trying to locate where the pain was coming from, but no matter what muscle I twitched there was a bit of ache. I really hoped I hadn't done anything stupid while drugged. Something they filmed and would use to extort me, or just publish online to humiliate without the trouble of threatening me with it. I looked over to Dean's bed. He was sound asleep face down into a pillow, his body only partially covered by a sheet.

I got up from the bed, back screaming in agony of being bent straight. trying to ignore the pain that was everywhere. Had they pummeled me or something? No, this was more pain of exhaustion, like the time Ryan took me wall climbing, only much worse. I raise my hand to scratch my face and paused. My nose felt different than usual. Had I broken it? No, my face and head were the few body parts that didn't hurt. Mindful to not wake up Dean by turning on the light I went to look in the bathroom mirror. I was shocked.

In front of me in the mirror was an entirely new person. I was taller to start with, so everything looked slightly different from this angle. My body wasn’t as skinny as it used to be. I would even call it athletic with lean, defined muscles all over, hints of veins popping out on arms and legs, and most distractingly of all a well-defined six-pack. Obviously my clothes had been removed at some point, because I always sleep in a T-shirt. But what shocked me most was my face. It had changed so much I was almost unrecognizable. I say almost, because the more I stared at my face, the more I found pieces of my old face. My ears were the same, just a little bigger. My eyes were a bit narrowed and my eyebrows bushier. My nose had changed quite a bit. Somehow I looked flippant, obnoxious even. Like someone who would make everything into a dare or a competition.

I hated it. The more I examined the body the more things I found that were altered. The skin was way more tanned than yesterday, and almost all hair was gone. The old scar from the camping trip was gone too. What happened last night? Dean, I thought. Dean would know. He was there.

I walked out of the bathroom and turned on the light.

“Wake up!”

Immediately he jerked awake. “What time is it?” he said, shielding his eyes from the light.

“You’ve got some explaining to do!”

He ignored me and checked his phone, “Five to seven. Fuck it, I might as well.” He trailed, then hauled himself out of bed and towards the bathroom. He passed me without even a glance. Over the past month I’ve learned that Dean is not a functioning human until he’s had his morning shower. Soon after I heard the noise from the shower Dean’s phone dinged. I quickly moved over to his bed and read the message on his lock screen.

"How’s he doing? He’ll be in pain, take it EZ on him. Don’t forget to bring him to the nets."

Then I noticed the date. It said Saturday. Dean had called me on Thursday, well early Friday. I had been blacked out for almost thirty hours. I put down his phone, sat back down on my bed, and stared at my feet. They didn't look like my feet. They looked... powerful. Larger for sure, but there were more to them. "Fuck!" I exhaled. I noticed my rippling six-pack still looked athletic even sitting down. No folds of tummy fat. Even Dean had that.

I jerked, surprised by Dean opening the door from the bathroom, and stepped out into the room naked. Without saying anything he started to clothe himself with his workout gear. It's was Saturday, apparently, and everyone in the dorm had training to get to.

“Are you not gonna say anything? Tell me what happened?” I demanded.

He stopped what he was doing, paused for a second, and then turned to me, half-dressed. “How much do you remember?”

“Not much. Everything after we went into the basement is gone.”

“Okay. It was your indoctrination…”

“Don’t you mean initiation?”

He looked sincerely at me. “No. I don’t.”

He looked away and continued. “It was your indoctrination. We made you choose a sport. You chose lacrosse. Then we gave you something to…alter you. To make you a better lacrosse player. A better jock.”

I looked down at my feet again. My lacrosse feet, purpose-built to play lacrosse. It all felt surreal. “You can’t be serious.”

“I am. It’s what happens to people in this dorm who don’t fit in. We make them fit. Guess why all the options were team sports. I'm a bit hurt you didn't pick football for the record.”

“This has to be illegal! If I tell the college board…”

“They won’t believe you," Dean cut in. "And even if you ask to do a blood test nothing will come up except for alcohol. They will kick you out for that. They know we’re doing this but they don’t mind. You know as well as I they are willing to bend the rules for sports.”

“But I don’t want to play lacrosse! Or any sport for that matter!”

He laughed. “Oh, you will. You will.” He looked at his phone. “It seems Zac and Mort want you down at the nets after training. Since it’s lacrosse that should be around 11:30. You’ve got a few hours as it’s only…7:15 now. I’d use it to do some work if I were you. You won’t be doing any for the rest of the weekend.”

“Oh,” he continued, “and your body might hurt now but it’ll get better once you start moving. I've heard burpees are good.”

His words brought my attention back to the pain. It was still bearable, but definitely there and a bit annoying. He slung his bag over his shoulder and started to leave.

“Dean! What the fuck!”

He stopped and turned towards me again. Really looking at me this time. "Look, if it was up to me we would have just found a different dorm and transferred you there, but no one came asking me. I know this must suck for you. You're rewired and rebuilt to excel in one thing and one thing only, and it's not even something you wanted to be good at. I get that. You've lost pretty much everything you thought made you you. Your clothes don't even fit anymore, and how you are going to explain who you are to your parents I can't even begin to imagine. I have no idea how the process works, I left before you even selected your sport, but I'm pretty sure it is irreversible. I can tell you this though. While no one I know would dare go through what you just did, almost everyone will be envious of what you have become. For the next few weeks, this first one in particular, your body memory will soak up movements like a sponge. Make good use of that." He turned to leave. "Just be down at the nets by 11:30."

"Hey, Dean."

"Yeah"

"I have nothing to wear."

"Just take a pair of my shorts." He made a final pause before leaving. "Welcome to the dorm, for real."

[soft-boi-eli]

Mcyts helping a trans masc after top surgery. (Part 1)

Tw:swearing, pain pills, some hints to vomiting, fluff as well.

Wilbur

This simp...

Makes sure you regularly drain your drains, take your medication.

You dont even have to get the fuck up, I mean he's your personal butler until the doctor gave you the okay.

Three times a day you get a smoothie. He can tell that you dont want to eat because of the pain.

The least you can do is drink something to nurioush you while you were in pain.

If you're embarrassed about having to sleep on some dog pee pads for the drain. Dont be.

Wilbur may not understand but he will constantly comfort you. He'll even make a video to tell his viewers he won't be posting for a moment. A personal issues came up and that is all they know for now.

Also when cold he'll try to keep you warm by very, very gentle cuddles. But any sign of pain and he's off of you and getting you warm blankets and heating packs.

His sweaters? Now all yours. You have no say. He will give you one every day knowing you find alot of comfort in wearing his clothes.

The last thing he wants is you in pain. Especially if it was caused by him.

Your testosterone shot? Dont worry he's got it for you.

He doesn't want you to get up unless you needed to go to the restroom or you were itching to get up.

If you dont take it slow he will threaten you.

This is a threat. He will make you sit back down if you tried to get up and clean.

All in all he is a simp and your butler.

Technoblade

Technoblade may not know what to do but he will try.

He's quite nervous but when he realized you havent eaten and needed something in your system for your pain meds hell make you something soft and light on the stomach.

Are you cold? He'll cover you in a blanket and just sit next to you. Floof senses you in pain and cuddles you more then technoblade.

Techno was a bit butt hurt but knew that you needed alot of support right now.

With his height his clothes are either tight or loose. But his hoodies are always huge. And very fucking comfortable.

His scent relaxed you and helped you sleep at night.

He is a hidden simp.

He will make sure you're comfortable. If you want him to he'll sleep with you in the living room.

When you start walking him and Floof are constantly following you. Just to make sure you are safe and comfortable.

You cant help but love your two boys.

His streams and videos are already inconsistent but he did say his next video or stream might take a longer time.

But if you dont mind then you'll sit near him while he streams. If you needed anything he'll get it.

You saying hi to chat. They know you're in pain by your tone.

And anyone he's in a call with will ask what's up. And when you tell them they'll understand and they'll hype you up.

It warms techno's heart when his friends hype you up.

God this closeted simp is melting internally.

Schlatt

He will tease you.

Pictures are taken and spread around the internet like a wild fire.

Caption to those pictures?

This dumbass just got out of surgery and didnt expect to feel like trash lol.

But off camera he's quite the nice guy. Reminding you to drink your water, getting you soft foods or soups, heck he give you some of his pushies from his youtooz.

And this behemoth of a man will give you his shirt or hoodies.

You are with him when he streams or records.

There is no say.

He wants to keep his eyes on you and make sure you are comfortable and safe.

Lowkey dragged you bed into his recording room, you were just vibing in the corner.

You meds are on a set schedule. If the time lands when he's on stream he doesn't think. Just gets up grabs your meds and a premade smoothie.

With that he gave them to you.

Watching you swallow that pill because you can be stubborn with pain meds.

Returns to the stream.

Yells at chat for calling him a simp. He told them you were in pain and it's the least he can do for you.

Will low key rub your back off stream. As sleeping while sitting up us hell on your shoulders.

Jambo is all over you, soaking up the attention he can get while you were immobile.

Schlatt would glare st him for taking away his S/O.

When it came to you wanting to walk he will let you.

If you hurt then this man would laugh and tell you to sit your ass down. You are going anywhere just yet.

He's gonna carry you when you are in as much pain.

He's tall and there is no stopping him.

It makes him feel a bit happier due to the fact you aren't hurting as much, and still getting to the place you needed.

Also he will hug you if he sees you are uncomfortable. The hug is very soft and unlike him.

But at least he is trying.

He also keeps his yelling down, doesn't want you to make too many stiff movements. It would hurt the hell out of you.

Tommy

Ok. Hear me out, butler.

He see the pain you are in and as one of his best friends he wont let you do anything.

Your parents were out of town after your surgery and it wasn't their fault their work called in suddenly.

So you were sent over to Tommy's for the three weeks they were out.

Tommy would let you relax on his bed, heck even sleep on it as well.

Doesn't care if your drains stain the bed. That's an easy clean up and he wants you to be comfortable.

He does still stream. Because it's something he does for a living.

But he'll try to keep it a bit quieter.

You once walked out of the room when he was streaming. You looked like a gremlin, hunched over while you had to take a piss.

When you entered you were greeted by wilbur, techno, and phil telling you they hope you heal fast.

"It only gets better from now on (y/n). Take it easy alright?"-wilbur

"Congrats mate, just relax and dont forget to focus on healing."-Phil

"Yo you got the surgery. Pog. Stay healthy (y/n)."-techno

You melted lightly. A small smile graced your face.

It brought you joy and there was nothing that could compare to it. Honestly.

It seemed almost every day someone tommy knew was hopi g a speedy recovery.

He once yelled at chat for saying you should suck it up.

"CHAT THEY JUST WENT THROUGH SURGRY. LEAVE THEM ALONE!"

You forgot that your parents were even out for those weeks.

Tommy would definitely understand slightly that it would hurt to constrict your chest.

"You cold?"

When you nod tommy is up and handing you one of his hoodies. They are big and comfy. Easy to put on too. So they are perfect.

His two dogs, Walter and Betty?

Expect them in his room curled around you. Dogs know when humans feel pain and when they need something to comfort them.

The stream kind of enjoyed that.

They got wholesome content from you and dog content.

Win win.

Tommy will make sure you have your meds.

If it lands during a stream he blacks out the camera and carefully gets you the things needed for it.

Get you a best friend like tommy.

They wont let you do much when in pain.

Tubbo

He doesn't fully know what to do. He went and spent a few nights over at your house.

Your parents asked his parents for help so they sent over tubbo.

They made a list but the poor boy couldnt read it.

"A sm-oosthie with their pain pill... what the hell is a sm-oosthie?!"

It took him calling tommy to ask him to tell him.

"Tubbo. It says smoothie and who is this fo-."

He hung up before tommy could finish and made the smoothie.

Your cat was quite cuddly.

When he walked in your cat was on your lap.

"Tubbo? When did you get here?" Oh yeah it was a surprise.

"Not too long ago. Your parents left and asked me to help."

He was doing it in all good.

But he scared you so badly.

He bought you a stuffed animal...

It was a huge minecraft bee. And by huge I mean huge.

Like here's the stuffed animal.

Ignore the child. I wished there was a better picture.

But yeah you get the point.

Tubbo may not know how to help you fully but he's trying.

Tommy came to visit with wilbur and phil.

Tommy was meeting up with them and you lived close to wilbur.

When they saw you laid up in bed, tubbo trying to find out how to help with your medication phil kinda went father mode.

You got homemade soup to take your meds.

Tubbo was quite happy to see you smiling and lightly laughing.

When they left you felt better.

Tubbo may not know how to do alot but he tried his best. And you loved every moment.

You got you best friend to help you. And nothing was better then that.

Ranboo

Ranboo spent the night and all you guys could do was joke about the pain.

The jokes were quite self deprecating too.

All night you guys were up.

You couldn't sleep because of the pain and he didnt want to sleep due to the fact he didnt want you to be alone.

So you two were sleep deprived and your parents were concerned. But understood you two didnt want the other to feel bad.

After you healed a bit your parents got called into work. Leading to you spending a few days over there.

Ranboo streamed a recorded with you in the back ground.

He forgot you were there once and he turned on face cam. There you were in the background nose deep into a book while wearing one of his hoodies.

You were freezing and your shirts were a bit too tight.

He just gave you one of his and that was that.

"Whis in the background?"-dono

"In the background?" He turned around to see you just reading your book.

"Oh. That's one of my friends. They had a surgery a week ago."-ranboo

He turned to you, "(y/n) say hi to stream."

Looking up you waved.

"My gay mind went brrr at the idea of no sacks of fat. Now body do the big pain."-(y/n) 2021

It brought a laugh to ranboo and his chat.

You joked through the pain. It was funny.

Dream

What is this I see? He's a simp indeed.

Low key he's answering your beck and call.

He's smothering you in love.

It may not be physical affection but it is still affection.

Your hoodies are replaced with his.

They are huge and comfy.

He saw something online that reminded him of you.

He said it was cute and decided you needed it.

You loved it. It helped you sleep.

Since sapnap lives with him he sends in sapnap sometimes because he's recording or has to get something that wasn't in the house.

Also when you found the zipper you unzipped it and found dream stashed some gift cards and little trinkets in it. Along with a note.

'Knew you would of found this.'-Clay

It shocked you kind of.

But you loved it. It was quite comforting that he gave his affection in these ways still.

Even if it wasn't physically.

Patches is on you 24/7.

She's cuddling you and being very gentle on you.

Low key she won't leave you though, she's following you everywhere, on your lap, sitting there when your on the toilet.

She's clingy. More clingy then before.

But it warmed your heart.

If george visits then he'll see a little gremlin making a b line to the bathroom.

All because the pain made your stomach feel upset.

And you hadn't eaten anything because of pain.

Dream is quick to rush in and see what's wrong.

You were sitting on the ground in the bathroom. Needless to say it didnt end well and you hated it.

"Baby. Do you want me to get you a smoothie and your pain meds?" You were grateful.

After leaving the bathroom you lightly hunched over you noticed the British man in your living room.

You watched his videos.

You waved lightly with a smile.

"Oh sorry (y/n) I didnt tell you george was coming did i?"

Your look told it all.

"Sorry you have to see me like this." You had the urge to apologize.

"No dont be sorry. Surgery is painful."-george

With a small nod you went back to your room and relaxed.

George

He didnt know what to do at all.

He answered your requests.

But he didnt know why you needed that thick ass blanket in the middle of the summer.

But now you have it.

Your stuffed animal that was left in the living room?

It's in your arms by your side.

He's sad it wasn't him in your arms but understood it would cause you pain.

He just lightly lays in your lap.

It brought you comfort and him comfort.

Your germilin ass tended you get up and walk at the weirdest time too.

3am?

Your are going to get a snack.

5am?

You are on your way to the toilet.

7am?

Your once more in the kitchen getting something to eat with your pain pill.

George slept through it and was confused when you weren't in bed like the doctors told you to.

He's quite meticulous with your meds and eating habits.

He doesn't push but makes sure you have something with that pill.

Hell try to help you with your bandages. But sometimes got queasy at the blood and stuff.

It was okay with you though.

You didnt mind that due to the fact that you too got queasy as well.

I think you guys sleep through this alot.

Wilbur and tommy visited.

You was shocked and confused when they had a few get well soon gifts.

Tommy got you a small fidget toy, just something to do with your hands sometimes.

Wilbur got you a few books and a small stuffed toy.

It was a orca.

You loved it but still loved the one that george got you.

He got you a little wooloo one.

It was something that was soft and easy to cuddle.

But the books wilbur gave you were amazing.

It gave you something to do for a long while. And it gave george some more cuddle time.

Other than not knowing what to do george was a great source of comfort.

Sapnap

Sapnap is a bit more experienced with it.

Kind of knowing what to do and all together he just know more then most people.

There is a regular schedule for you meds and so called meals, he changes out the dog pads if he notices them dirty. He knows how to maneuver himself next to you so there was no pain.

He also sucked up that he would be overwhelmingly hot and sat next to you under the blanket.You weren't nearly as cold because of that.

Also since sapnap lives with dream I imagine that dream pops in some times and so does patches.

You all were probably best friends as children. And people always thought that you and dream would get together.

Only because you two were more touchy.

But you saw him as an older brother, and took a liking to sapnap.

Dream was really suportive and saw you as a little sibling.

Dream probably saw you not doing to well and made you something to eat and brought your pain medication.

That was because sapnap was sleeping next to you.

Patches curled up between to two of you and dream brought in something you hadnt seen before.

A roll away bed.

This mother fucker got a whole new bed just so he could sleep in the same room as you and sapnap.

"Sapnap is a heavy sleeper. What if you need something?" He was correct.

You woke up to pain and discomfort.

Dream woke up but sapnap didnt.

You were mainly cold though...

How the hell were you cold with this man radiating radiation the heat of a thousand suns?

No clue. But probably the anesthesia since you were in sapnap room dream just opened the closet and tossed his hoodie to your lap.

You woke up sapnap when you put on the hoodie on accident.

He pushed up against your shoulder a bit more and draped his arm over your lap.

"What's wrong?" Sapnap mumble made you stiffen up. Dream seemed to fall back to sleep too.

"Just a bit cold." He lightly nodded into your neck.

"Mmmmmm. How though."-sapnap

"I dont fuckin know."-(y/n)

He let out a sleep chuckle and seemed to fall asleep again.

You just sat there. Patches and sapnap on you lap technically.

Sapnap woke up and made you breakfast at some point. You were in and out of it due to barely any sleep.

Dream woke up as well. You didnt even know when they left. But patches stayed with you.

Those weeks you were treated the best with these two with extra cuddles from patches.

I didnt know there was a max amount of paragraphs. But hey I guess it's something you find out sooner or later. So there is going to be a part 2. Including some character I missed.

[cosmiccandydreamer]

Tranquility chapter 2

*Sorry for the delay folks! Also those of you have watched the hit series on Hulu called P-Valley we'll get the reference about the stolen IDs and the wiring of money. I understand that some of the things I reference are not necessarily 1970s 1980s things but it's my story lol. Also I'm going to make the time gap between our character and her man getting reunited not 10 years because we know she couldn't wait that long to see her boy. *

Usual warnings no one under 18 violence language sexuality and all that good stuff.

Otis driftwood x reader ( she/ her )

"So what happened?" Foxy asked, removing his jacket and setting the keys on the table by the door. He watched you walk towards the bed in the middle of the hotel and sit down. You took a deep breath and started rubbing your hands together, not looking directly at him. Where to even begin? You saw it flash through your mind. Everything that happened was so far away, yet it happened the same day the concept of time was lost to you; everything had been such a whirlwind that you hadn't even allowed yourself to process everything last week. Wow, it had only been a week. You saw back to what happened after getting out of the hospital and, unfortunately, losing your baby; you knew that Foxy had lived close to the Mexico border. You remember talking to Otis about it because he had mentioned that he wanted to visit his brother at some point. You placed the first time you met Foxy. It was the night of one of the Halloween rituals. You two hit it off right away; he remembered you as Babies intelligent and shy friend. You were off-limits according to the family that you were one of the fireflies even though it was unofficially.

The last time he had come by, you and Otis were a couple, and you had participated in the ritual yourself; he saw the way his brother looked at you, and he had never seen him look at anyone that way before he knew he was in love which was something he didn't think was capable of his brother. At first, you weren't sure how you felt about Foxy; he seemed like a creep and asshole. But the more you talked to him, the more you realized that he had his unique sense of humor and way about him just like the rest of the family, and soon you became great friends. It had been some years since you had seen him; life had taken him away from the house and off on his adventures. Still, you always knew that you could count on him if needed. Hence, you decide to take a chance and go to the last place you knew that he had been; according to the family, he had been running some underground operation from Mexico to Texas, and he used the hotel as one of his meeting points for a lot of his clients.

So after about an hour, you explained the whole situation to him he didn't interrupt you; he listened intently, watching you with sad eyes, knowing what this ordeal had taken on you and the fact that you had lost a child that's even more traumatic he didn't have anything to say that could directly comfort you. Still, he reassured you that he was there for you in any way that you needed him. "Damn little sis, I'm so sorry; that's a hell of a journey you were on. I wish I could have been there to help you through most of it," he stated, lighting a cigarette and taking a long draw from it. "But I'm here now, so whatever you feel you need to do, let's do it. I'm down".

"Well, the first thing would be breaking them out of jail. We can't let them stay there. We have to devise some kind of plan to rescue them, and then after that, we'll decide where to go from there. I can't think straight knowing that they are locked away". Foxy put out his cigarette and took out another, lighting it before answering you. "Do you know where they are and all of that because I'm sure I can break them out. I got a good idea." "Yeah, I do know,” you stated, "honestly, it's all over the news, so everyone knows where they are right now."

Foxy thought to himself for a minute, “you know what? I know that prisons tend to have many inmates in the yard in chain gangs. I bet I could break him out from there, but we just need some money."You chewed on your inner lip a bit and molded over the possibility of having to sacrifice some of your morals to get some money quickly. You were doing this for them, so you decided that the greater good would rule over anything that you had to do. "I can help you get some money," you stated, looking directly at him for the first time " I'm not sure how yet, but whatever I have to do, I will do it." "What did you have in mind?" Foxy asked. He was looking at you with a curious look. He could tell there was a lot on your mind, but he couldn't quite read your face. "I got a couple of ideas," you said, smiling at him for the first time. "It's risky, though." "Shit, honey," he laughed, putting out his jack daniels bottle from the seat under his chair. "Risky is my middle name."

You stood up and emptied the bag sitting next to you; many fake IDs fell out onto the bed. "So this is what I'm thinking. Have you heard of disaster relief Reformations?"Foxy nodded but ushered for you to continue, "so during natural disasters, anyone in the area that has been affected can apply for aid, and it just has to be wired to you well after the last superstorm, we have quite a bit of id's I don't know how many of them are eligible for reparations, but I have no problem putting on a nice little wig and attempting to go and commit identity theft I mean honestly it's not even the worst of what we've done so…" you began to explain your plan you were going to go and try to steal pretty much the identity of all the young women that you had at your disposal, thus getting as much money as you could. And if that plan did fall through, you were thinking about applying at the nearby local strip club; showing your body to other men other than Otis did not sit well with you, but you also knew that that was quick cash.

So here was the plan so far, foxy made a lot of money in illegal transportation of goods such as drugs and guns, you name it using the hotel as his front. You planned to get as much money wired to these accounts that he had set up throughout various banks in Texas. You were going to steal the deceased woman's identity and get as much money wired to you through the reparations you could. You were also going to help rob and lure potential victims to the hotel, bringing them back to the room with the promise of sex just to have foxy knock them out and steal their money. It was a risky plan, but one that you had to take.

And thus began your plan; your first step was to the dollar store to collect as many wigs and disguises as you could to try and match your identity to the many IDs you had at your disposal. If any questions arose, Foxy would act as your husband, father, cousin; you name it. You both traveled outside of Texas for the first few hits as far as you could to try and hit the banks and the wiring centers there. You had to admit this was fun; it almost felt like old times again, running around and doing these horrible antics with the family. And Foxy was a good partner; he knew how to cover his tracks and make sure that nothing got in your way; he had to admit though the first few times that he allowed you to be the bait and bring the gentleman back to the hotel so they could be robbed and then you could split he was nervous he knew deep down that Otis would never forgive him if he let anything happen to you. Watching you flirt with the guys and their eyes light up, hoping that they would get lucky, is hilarious; he knew that you would never let any other man other than his brother touch you, so watching their hopes rise and then get crushed was hilarious. Watching you walk out of the hotel room dressed up to go and bait, the gentleman foxy had to admit you were a beautiful young woman; he could see why besides the fact that you had a spitfire personality Otis was attracted to you if you weren't his brother's girl he would have already tried to make his moves on you himself. He let his eyes wander over your figure as you walked over to the car. The night went well, and the gentleman came without question with the promise of a very intense coitus session waiting for him back in the room. You gave the nod to Foxy, and he sprang into action with your already previously discussed plan. He was waiting in the closet when you unlocked the hotel room and let the drunk man stagger into the room.

You had a bright crimson wig and sunglasses that you refused to remove in the bar. "Hey, well now, beautiful, will you let me see those pretty eyes?" The man asks, slurring his words and falling over himself. "in a minute, honey, you just get comfortable, and I'm going to freshen up, okay?" You told him, lightly patting him on the shoulder and winking at Foxy as you walked by. That's when he's sprung into action busting out of the closet and smacking the man with the tire iron. "Well, that was fast," you said, coming out of the bathroom and drying your hands on a towel. "Yeah, I'm getting hungry. I decided we should just hurry this one along." He said, slapping on his black gloves and rummaging through the man's pockets. "I'm hungry, too; where should we stop on the way back to the hotel?"

At this point, you and Foxy had moved to a different hotel, another one that he felt secure at because they didn't ask too many questions. Still, with the larger room, he slept on the couch and allowed you to have the bedroom, surprisingly a revenant of the Southern gentleman that appeared to live in him still despite his outward exterior.

He watched you adjust your breasts in the tight red dress you had and quickly forced himself to look away. What was he doing? He thought to himself; this is your brother's girl, but man, she looks outstanding in red, he thought to himself. He quickly shook those thoughts away and escorted you back to the car before you both took off. Entering the hotel room, you promptly pulled off your wig and lighter out of your bra lighting a cigarette; you pulled out a bunch of cash you had in your purse and sat down at the table. "Not a bad night tonight," you said, running it through the money counting machine. "But I still think we're a little short; I'm thinking of applying at the strip club down the street." "You?" Foxy asked, taking off his coat the thought of you half-naked on a pole made him feel hot under the collar, he cleared his throat "I didn't peg you for much of a dancer." "I'm not," you replied, "but I figure if you're halfway decent in this town and show a little ass, men will throw money at you, especially if they're desperate enough for a few sweet nothings whispered."

Foxy sat down in the armchair, lighting his cigarette and looking up at you. "Well, you ain't gotta worry about that because you're not halfway decent you got some looks to you, kid." "Aww, Foxy, thank you," you smiled, looking back towards him "you can be so sweet sometimes." He laughed and shook his head "you better tell nobody." You and Foxy both decided to celebrate the ending to a very intense week; you found yourself drinking along with him and laughing, reminiscing about old times and stories that he told you that he and Otis had done when they were younger. "So the midnight wolfman has always been wild, I see," you laughed, taking another shot. "Oh man, honey, you have no idea," he laughed, wiping his mouth and looking at you; he noticed that some of your hair had gotten stuck on your lip gloss and leaned forward to remove it from your face and tuck it behind your ear. You chuckled, "oh, thank you, I didn't even notice that," and tucked the rest of your hair behind your ear. Foxy looked at you,.. really looked at you.. the light shining through the window and damn, you looked so beautiful in the moonlight. He found himself staring at you and you staring back, your half hooded eyes from the alcohol catching you off guard. Your beautiful smile creeps up on your face as you start to laugh and pull your arms over your head to stretch. He found himself watching you and the familiar urge growing in his loins. His pants felt tight, and his throat felt dry; he wanted to reach out and kiss you, throw you onto the bed, rip your clothes off and make you his own. He blinked hard and stood up; no, you were off-limits, and he knew that; he went back to sit on the couch and took a swig of the bottle before running his hands down his face. "I'm gonna call it a night," you said, getting up and heading towards the room "night." "Yeah," he replied as you closed the door. He hoped you didn't see any of that, and if you had, he hoped that you would keep it to yourself. Otis didn't need to know about his thoughts; it would just drive a wedge between them; he knew he had to shake the possibility of seeing you in any kind of intimate light out of his mind; you weren't his, and he had to remember that.

You later got up to take a shower, and when you got out, you saw that foxy had passed out on the chair with the half bottle of Jack in his hand; you laughed to yourself silently. You then walked out onto the patio staring at the never-ending flatlands before you. There was a slight breeze rolling in, and you remember the last time you were standing outside when it was cold, and you complained. Otis laughed at you and told you to dress more appropriately for the weather but then said you better put no pants on because he likes seeing your beautiful legs, and he took off his flannel and put it around you and pulled you close.

Tears were stinging your eyes before you knew it, and silent waterfalls began to cascade down your face. You missed him in any way that you could miss someone; every second of every day of your existence felt like torture without him. You had to get him back; there was no way you could continue your life without him by your side; the possibility of him not being returned with you was not something you would even consider. Every day was another step towards getting him back. You wished you could talk to him and tell him how much you missed him and how strong you were trying to be for him. You missed your sister and Spalding; the family dynamic you had grown to love felt like part of your heart had been ripped out through your chest, and a gaping hole was left. You missed working at the gas station, missed playing dress-up with baby in her room, you missed Mama's cooking as crazy that sounds; you missed working on cars with Rufus and bringing down a plate for tiny you even missed the grandpa in some ways even though he was a disgusting, vile person watching the Munsters with him laughing over TV dinners you missed home. Lost in your thought, you didn't even hear the back door open, and Foxy walked onto the patio; he watched you cross your arms, staring out into the nothingness. He heard you sniffle and walked over to you." You know Otis wouldn't like you crying, he would say, well what the hell are you doing that for? No reason for that shit Cheer the fuck up". You turned to him, wiping your eyes and giving him a sad smile. "I know, but I just miss him; I miss them." "I know, but you'll see them soon." He said, looking out into the dark with you, "real soon."

[blu-joons]

Telling Him You Have A Daughter ~ Lee Changsub

“I can feel a pair of little eyes watching us over there.”

Your head snapped around as Changsub spoke, stopping midway through getting into his car. As you looked back to your apartment, you noticed a figure quickly ducking down in the living room window, with their fingertips still on show. A sigh came from you as you kept your eyes on the house, knowing that beside you Changsub was doing exactly the same.

“Is that your little sister?” He innocently asked you, chuckling at how quick the figure was to duck as soon as they realised that they were spotted.

A weak smile formed in your expression as you got into the car with a shake of your head. Your heart raced as Changsub closed the car door for you before making his way around to get into the driver’s side of the car.

You could tell as he did so that his eyes were still looking back to your home to catch another glimpse of the figure. It wasn’t going to be something that he would just forget, with intrigue as ever getting the better of him.

Yet as he got into the car, Changsub could tell how stiff you were, with your eyes staring forwards, and almost as if you didn’t want to acknowledge that he was with you any longer.

“Do I get to find out who that little sweetheart was?”

A deflated drop of your shoulders followed Changsub’s question, nodding your head before you really thought. The two of you had only been on a handful of dates, and now you had been thrown in at the deep end in the worst possible way.

“She’s a bit more of a closer relation to me than a little sister,” you subtly explained to him.

“How much closer can you get then siblings?” He laughed in reply to you, placing his car key into the ignition, “unless she’s your daughter or something perhaps.”

There was a moment of silence from you, as Changsub’s head turned around to face you, “would it bother you that much if I said she was?”

“N-no,” he stuttered, taken aback. He was expecting you to laugh and joke how funny it would be for her to be your daughter, never expecting for it to actually be true.

You were terrified as you noticed Changsub’s expression drop, “you look like you’re horrified that she’s my daughter, maybe we should just call it a night for tonight, it’s alright.”

As you went to unbuckle your seatbelt, a hand reached across and quickly stopped you. Changsub was surprised to say the least, but it didn’t change how he felt about you, despite what you were thinking as you studied his expression closely.

“I can’t believe you’re a mum,” he whispered, keeping a tight grip on your hand, “you seem like you’ve got it all so together, fresh as a daisy. I could never have imagined that you’d be a mum when you’re so organised, strong, but now that I’ve seen your daughter, it makes sense why you’re such an incredible person.”

“If you take one step in my house, I promise that you will see that I’ve far from got it all together,” you lightly joked in reply, “you can barely step around my home without landing on a doll or a toy car that’s being raced around.”

The more you spoke, the more Changsub’s smile grew, the qualities that he had picked up of yours that he admired fell into place more and more as you told him about parenthood.

The way you cared for him since your very first date, how you had everything in your bag that someone could need in case an accident happened made so much more sense. They were little things that Changsub had appreciated, but now he was seeing exactly why you were so prepared for anything that life through your way.

“I wasn’t quite expecting her to spy on me, my mum’s supposed to be babysitting tonight.”

“I wonder if she likes me,” Changsub suggested, “does she have high expectations?”

Your head shook back to Changsub as he finally began to pull away from your home to get to your location for your date night. As you did, you noticed a head peeking up over your window, watching the two of you pull away.

“She’s been wondering when she can meet you, but I don’t want to rush things.”

“I don’t mind,” Changsub responded, taking you by surprise. “I know we’ve only been on a few dates, and maybe you probably wouldn’t have told me about her for some time if she hadn’t spied on me, but if she’s nosy, then isn’t a good step to take and not worry about anymore.”

You knew that Changsub had a point, getting your daughter’s approval was the most important thing to you whenever a new person came into your life. If she could get along with Changsub then it would be by far the biggest hurdle that you’d have to step over, not to mention how much more comfortable you’d be around Changsub too.

“Is that something that you’d really want to do?”

Changsub nodded confidently, convinced that he would be able to impress your daughter, having already whisked you off of your feet since the very first date that you had.

“I love kids,” he encouraged, turning his eyes away from you to focus on the road, “and I love cars, so maybe I can show her a thing or two at your house one day. It’s your decision though, I don’t want to pressurise you.”

“No, I think that it would be good too.”

It was far from the direction that you imagined your date going on, but at the same time it felt right. There was something about Changsub that you just trusted, and you knew that your daughter would trust in him too.

“Maybe we can arrange something for our next date,” he suggested.

Your head nodded in agreement back at him, “are you sure that you want to meet her? She’s a handful, you won’t get a second to breathe when you’re around her.”

“If she’s anything like you, we’ll get on like a house on fire,” Changsub encouraged, reaching across to rest his hand against the top of your leg, “she must like me a little bit already to want to spy on me too.”

“She definitely wanted to see what you looked like,” you chuckled, “and also apparently she wants to make sure that you’re a gentleman around me too.”

A loud roar of laughter came from Changsub, “I’ll make sure that I’m on my best behaviour when I’m with her in that case, and make sure that I treat you well, although I’m sure that I already do that, don’t I?”

“I’ve already told her how amazing you are,” you promised, “I think that’s why she’s so keen to find out some more about you.”

Changsub’s smile widened once again, “I’ll have the two of you falling in love with me soon enough, you just wait and see.”

“You sound pretty confident,” you joked, “are you really prepared to enter my crazy world?”

“Absolutely, your crazy world seems amazing.”

---

Masterlist

[lollypopsx]

Flatmate!Harry: I'll Make It Up To You - Part 2

Please like if it’s not too shabby, reblog for anyone who may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Warnings: Hints of depression and anxiety

Part 1 - Part 3

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Days had passed since the audition, and while you were sat on your laptop every hour searching for new jobs, new projects, more auditions and pure hope of some miracle, you couldn't help but starting to feel like you were failing slightly.

You liked to write happy songs and create stories using your music, but you were finding it harder to find the inspiration. Usually you and Harry would sit and talk ideas for hours, but since he made you miss your audition, you were distant from him, it was only the last day or two that you had been getting slowly back to normal.

Every day since the incident when Harry came home after working at the studio, he would open the curtains to make sure you had fresh air and daylight after cooping yourself up on the sofa all day, in the dimly lit living room. Not only that, he would check the cupboards, fridge and the sink to check that you were eating enough. He had seen you stressed and upset before. He had been there through some difficult moments in your life, and had always been your rock throughout the years, especially when your mental health was struggling during these times. But this time was worse. He couldn't help being concerned for someone he loved and cared for.

"Hey pumpkin..." He whispers softly, settling himself down beside you after completing his daily routine "Have you done much today?" he gently combs his fingers through your hair before dropping his arm round your shoulders.

You just sigh softly, looking ahead blankly at the quiet TV, simply shaking your head. If only he could see what was going on in that pretty mind of yours then maybe he could make everything better.

"I see you used the piano and the guitar today though..." he states, although it came out more like a question.

Minutes of silence filled the room until out of the blue, some words left your lips. "...Adam came to get the ring today" you whisper, feeling the tears brim your eyes once again, for what felt like the millionth time today.

"Oh darling" He frowns, pulling you into his chest tightly, just like he did the night you found out your (now ex-) boyfriend, Adam, was cheating on you. Unfortunately, you happened to find out minutes before he proposed to you, in front of all of your friends, including Harry. You didn't know what to do, so you took the ring, said you'd think about it and you left him standing alone. This all happened months ago, and you really thought that you was totally over it.

"Everything that's happened this week...I-I just...I feel like such a failure Haz. It just feels like I...I-I'm falling...falling apart and nothings going right! Why isn’t anything going right! I can’t even write one stupid song that makes sense" you let out hard sobs as your hands fisted his clean white t-shirt.

"No...no, no, no don't say that...please don't ever say that." He frowns, pulling away from you, but still staying close. His warm hands press against your cheeks as he lifts your face gently "hey, hey look at me" he whispers, begging you to look at him.

Your sad wide eyes flickered up into his, gentle tears falling down your face. "I know...I know it's hard at the moment. But everything happens for a reason. And everything will get better...I know it will. Do you trust me?" He whispers, his eyes gazing deep into yours, almost like if he looked hard enough, he could read your mind.

You give a hesitant nod as he pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead before wiping the tears dampening your cheeks. Being affectionate together wasn't anything unusual for the two of you, you really were the best of friends.

"I'll go make some dinner okay? Pasta sound good?" You just nod your head gently at him as he leaves your side. You let out a deep sigh and head over to the living room window, watching the sunrise beginning to set over the busy London town. "So...how's the studio going?" You ask him curiously, your gaze still at the window.

"I erm..." He clutters around in the kitchen. His job was a topic he had been avoiding for the last few days. He didn't want to rub it in that he was busy writing an album for millions of fans, who would be screaming his lyrics back to him all over the world in years to come. "It's...good. I mean, its tiring but I...yeah. It's good" He nods.

"H, you don't have to avoid it. I forgive you for what happened. I know you would never have done it out of spite...and you deserve your life style, you work hard!" You say as you head into the kitchen, re-filling the water in the vase on the table, your vibrant roses and lilies still looking as beautiful as the first day Harry bought them for you.

"You work hard too!" He frowns softly "Harry I don't think moping around on the sofa, drowning in my sorrows, is the definition of working hard" You let out a gentle chuckle.

"So...how's it really going?" You hop up onto the stool beside the kitchen counter.

"Well, we have 4 songs so far...and they are...different to the last album. I mean they reckon three of them will be on the pop charts...maybe even a number one slot there" He sighs softly.

"Oh wow, that does sound different to before...and you...don't want that?" You ask curiously, judging by the lack of excitement. "Well...it's not that. I just...it's hard to write another album when the last one did well, and you have to make sure it's better than the last one." He sighs softly as he cooks. "They want me to write some slower, more emotional songs. I just can't...well the words don't fit right. I'm just not feeling emotional about anything, so I don't know where to get the emotion from"

"Well you can't put a price on emotion Haz, you can't just go and buy it in Gucci. You have to really feel it. Even if you aren't thinking about something specific or direct to you. I used to find that sometimes when I was trying to write, I'd create these characters in my head, and I'd give them all these different stories and personalities. And I...I used that to really help me write music. It's not easy." You explain while getting two of the plates from the cupboard and pouring two drinks for the table.

"You used to? You mean you don't use that method anymore?" He asks curiously, while giving the pasta one final stir.

"I...I think I've decided that I'm not going to write music anymore" You shrug softly, your eyes unable to life to his. "I need a proper job. And things aren't going well with auditions lately and I make a total fool out of myself every time I go into a meeting. It's time I looked for a proper job. Besides, the price of bills in this house keeps going up and up."

"What?! Y/N you're so good at writing songs and music! You can't throw it all away now! That is your proper job. And I love hearing what you write, it inspires my own stuff!" He frowns, his brow furrowing, trying to understand you. "Think of all the songs no one will get to hear"

"No one hears them anyway...It's different now. The entertainment industry is changing more and more by the day. Maybe the stuff I write just isn't as trendy anymore." It was difficult for you to admit, but you knew you had to accept it.

"There's a fine line between us Styles, because the difference is, you're already there. You have the whole world in your hands Haz, you can go anywhere and do anything. You could sing a song to a fish and the whole world would be adored by you still! If I did something like that...I'd be laughed out of every interview, audition and meeting for the rest of my life. But we’ll be alright" You smile and shrug, your mood had certainly been hit and miss the last few days, but you knew you had to carry on with your life.

—————————

“Hey Y/N come here!” Harry calls from the living room. You were currently in your room, scrolling through your Instagram, while in a pasta coma after dinner. You rush over to the living room “What’s up?” You ask, seeing him sat at the gleaming white piano, which as always was sat under the window.

“What do you think?” He starts to play a few notes on the piano, looking between the scruffy paper notes cluttering the top of the piano and his hands. 

“Can’t put a price on emotion...it’s something that you just can’t buy...you...you’ve got my devotion...but....but” He sighs softly, playing around with the notes and the wording on his notes. 

You smile softly as you recognise his acknowledgment of your earlier conversation “...but man, I can hate you sometimes” you sing gently, testing to see how it could fit.

“Hey that’s mean! Why would you say that!” He fakes a pout up at you “I thought we- hey actually...you’re right! That really fits!” He chuckles, pulling you onto the stool beside him. “Can you try a G chord, B chord and....lets try a C...” You nod and smile as your fingers gloss over the keys effortlessly, while Harry fits the verse together and tries to find the right tempo.

“Wait...it doesn’t sound right. Maybe lets try a D instead of C?” You suggest as you re-try, playing those three chords over and over again.

“You...are...a genius!” He grins and wraps his arms around your waist. ”Keep going!” He smirks, pushing more lyrics in front of you. Sometimes having a fresh pair of eyes really helped...or perhaps he just wanted to prove that you had talent.

You peer down at the pages upon pages of words flooding your view. “...I don’t want to fight with you....and I...and I don’t like to sleep in the dark...we’ll get the drinks in...I...I can’t stop thinking of her...” 

Harrys fingers join yours at the piano “We’ll be a fine line....We’ll be a fine line...”He smiles softly as he taps on a few random keys. 

You pull your fingers away gently “It...your song sounds...really good H. It’s beautiful actually.”

 “You mean our song...” He whispers.

“Harry no, it’s your song, all the pieces, I just put your jigsaw together” You smile. “I know how it is writing songs and the first draft is never the same as the final version. You might decide to change it all completely” You whisper.

���Not with your lyrical genius ability and words of wisdom...your name will be all over this track” You felt a shock of electricity ripple through your veins as you felt his eyes burning into yours. His lips pressed gently against your forehead, lingering against your skin longer than usual. That sort of affection was normal from your best friend...so why did it just feel like something completely different? And what did he mean about my name being all over the track?

—————————

Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino

[barnes-n-nobles]

Youre My Path (SMUT)

Yandere Bucky being crazy, possessive, and DARK!

TW-Mentions on non-con, drugging, stalking, and overall dark behavior. A little bit of knife play as well.

Smut SMUT SMUT

Let me know what y’all think 

Today was just another boring ordinary day. You had to go to the store and stock up on some groceries that you had been planning on getting but you lacked the will power to do so. You opened your phone and looked at the time. Ugh, I need to go before they close you thought to yourself as you managed to peel yourself off of your comfy sofa. You got ready and headed towards the nearest super market.

Lately youve been having some weird feelings, as if someone is constantly watching you. You always shake it off though, because nothing ever happens to you. You always get home safe and sound. Today was a little more intense though, as if you could almost hear someone breathing behind you when you were walking to the store. Relieved to have made it inside, you grabbed your cart and started your trip through the empty isles of the store. You loved and hated to come at night, it made you feel at peace knowing there there wouldn’t be annoying ass kids and angry moms yelling at them to behave. No people blocking the isles with their carts and most importantly, no need to run into someone you knew. The only reason you hated it, was because you didn’t want to get kidnapped and left for dead.

As you made your way to the bread isle, you had that feeling again. You felt like someone was behind you, you stopped dead in your tracks to see if anyone would walk past you. You pretended to look at the merchandise and you slowly turned around to see if there was anyone there. You looked both ways, and sure enough there was nothing. You rolled your eyes and kept it moving. As your trip started coming to an end you decided to stop by the makeup isle, needing a couple of items that you would use for your upcoming date.

Usually you didn’t try this hard but you figured you would give it a shot. All the past times you went on dates they would disappear after your first date. You weren’t sure if it was because you didn’t try hard enough or if they simply weren’t feeling your vibe. As your mind trailed off you accidentally ran into another person with your cart, completely snapping you out of your mind. A broad man, fell to his knee. “Oh my god!!! I’m so sorry. Are you ok? God I’m so clumsy please forgive me” you said frantically as you started to help him up. He lifted his head up to meet your gaze, big blue eyes % bore%% into your own. Your eyes started to trail from his eyes, to his lips, and up again to his perfectly sculpted face. You were mesmerized, you had never seen such a handsome man. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it, y/n” he said quickly getting up and walking off with a visible smirk on his face. You scrunched your eyebrows in confusion, knowing damn well he did not just say your name. You werent exactly sure if your mind was playing tricks on you or if he really said what you think he had said. You got up quickly, still in shock but hoping that it was really your mind playing tricks on you. Hesitantly you continued to shop, even though there was a little voice in your head telling you to get the hell out of that store.

Bucky POV

FUCK she’s so beautiful, he thought to himself. The way you stared at him, it was clear you wanted him the way he wanted you. This was the moment that he had been waiting for ever since he laid eyes on you. He had never been this close to you, it was like a dream come true. You smelled like candy, your beautiful e/c eyes meeting his. Just how he had imagined but better. The way you apologized made him hard. Just think of how submissive my y/n will be to me mmmm I’m going to devour her in every way possible he thought to himself, smirking.

Bucky ran into you at a coffee shop near your house. It was love at first sight for him. He watched you interact with your friends, smile, laugh, and it was like a match made in heaven for him. He knew he needed you to smile for him, laugh for him, and live for him. He followed you home that night. Making sure you wanted to be safe, of course. But his monthly visits turned to weekly and then turned to daily. He eventually managed to get into your home. You left a space key under your mat, and he felt so happy yet disappointed that you would endanger yourself like that. “When we live together, I’ll make sure you don’t make silly mistakes like this” he said to himself as he got into your home.

He went through your house just browsing, seeing if anything interesting caught his eye. He then made it into your room and continued to look through your things. He found your panties next to your bed and quickly grabbed them and put him in his picked for him to enjoy later. He also took some pictures of you, to also enjoy later.

You were his new routine and he enjoyed every second of it. As time went on he would keep tabs on you, absolutely hating it when you went on dates. He was consumed with jealousy and couldn’t believe anyone would dare lay a finger on you. He knew that this would not fly and he had to make sure to get rid of any roadblocks that got in his way. Bucky murdered them and everytime he did he felt relieved, almost happy knowing that he was that much closer to you.

After his encounter with you, Bucky walked off into the parking lot, one car over from yours, slipping into the drivers seat. His mind started to go wild. He needed you so badly. He wished he could have taken you right then and there. How he wished he could be inside you, your soft moans begging him to make you feel good. His cock soon started to throb at the thought of you. He leaned back in his seat taking a pair of your panties out from his pocket. He brought them to his nose and inhaled deeply, moaning as he exhaled. “Fuck Y/n...you make me so horny...I’m going to fuck the shit out of you when you’re here baby just you wait”.

Wasnt long before he pulled out his dick, stroking it hard. His hips bucking into his hand wishing it was your pussy. He started to think about how beautiful your pretty mouth would be around his dick, how good your tongue would feel swiveling around his tip. Just as he was about to cum, he stopped. He growled and threw his head back lowly moaning your name. “Fuck...I cant take this anymore. I need her” He quickly tucked himself back in and relaxed.

All you could think about was how that guy knew your name. It kept replaying in your head and it didn’t make sense. You headed to your car and started to load everything in. “Hello my Y/n” you heard someone say in a low deep voice. You quickly turned around, your heart starting to beat a little faster. “Umm. Do I know you?” You asked. Bucky sighed and started to walk towards you. “Not yet doll but you will” a smirk on his face once again. You backed up as he took steps forward. “Don’t come any closer, or I’m calling the police”.

Bucky pressed himself against your body, his hands snaking their way to your hips. His face now pressed against your neck. “No you wont Princess, I know you like this. I can tell by the way that you’re breathing that you want me to keep going” his low voice going straight to your core. “N-no please...stop I ..” you tried pushing him off but you started to feel so weak. You had not noticed that Bucky had used something to drug you. All you felt was your body going limp and you falling into his arms.

Bucky smiled as you fell into him, placing a soft kiss on your temple. He noticed that someone was coming over so he quickly pressed your body to your car, and grabbed your face, kissing you. The person walking, walked a little faster as they were feeling a little awkward. Perfect he thought to himself. He placed you into the back to his car, resting your head to a pillow he had just bought and covering you with his sweater. He quickly drove off, leaving all your things by your car.

Your eyes opened, your head pounding. Wherever you were it was dark but comfortable. You groaned as you started to fully wake up, slowly sitting up. Your left hand felt heavy, you tried pulling it and you heard a chain. You yanked your hand hard again, making a loud sound. Bucky heard the noise coming from your guy’s room and he smiled and quickly got up making his way to you.

“Baby you’re awake now” Bucky excitedly said

“What’s going on..why are you doing this to me, where am I?”

“You’re home doll, with me”

“But I don’t know you” you cried softly

“My name is James Buchanan Barnes, but you can call me Bucky. I’ve been looking after you for a while now and it’s been a pleasure but I'm so glad that I finally have you all to myself, just how it was always meant to be”

He started to get on the bed climbing towards you. You backed up as he came towards you, your back was now against the wall, pinning yourself between the cold wall and his broad body. His hand going to the back of your neck, bringing you close to him, your lips almost touching his.

“I’ve waited a life time for this, to have you here with me. You make me crazy and I would sacrifice the world for you. Now that you’re all mine, I won’t ever loose you” he closed the gap between you two, his lips desperately locking into yours. Kissing you passionately, he was hungry and desperate. You turned your head to the side, breaking the kiss.

“This isn’t the way Bucky, this isn’t right. You need to let me go” you begged. Bucky smiled and looked down moving back away from you. It made you feel relieved that he was not too mad due to your actions. He slowly got up from the bed and went over to his dresser, rummaging through some things.

“Bucky...maybe we are in different paths right now, maybe in the future we will be together but now right now, not like this...please Bucky listen to me”, hoping that he would have a little sympathy, you used his name to make it more personal.

“You know , y/n...just because you say we are on different paths doesn’t mean it’s true” he grabbed something and started to walk towards you again. This time his metal arm reached out to pull you by your leg to the edge of the bed, giving you whiplash. He quickly climbed on top of you, pinning your arms above your head with his metal arm and pulling out a syringe with his other hand.

You quickly started to wiggle around trying to get him off you. Shaking your head, “no no please stop no”. Buckys eyes had a hint of madness to them, dark and disturbing. “Don’t worry these don’t hurt, it will make you feel better I promise”. He quickly injected it to you and you soon started to feel get hot, with a tingling sensation “This will loosen you up a bit, it’ll make you relax so that we can enjoy eachother baby”

His lips made their way onto your neck, kissing and licking you all over. Your heart started to race, your eyes closing, soft moans escaping your lips, “n-no..” Bucky grunted as his erection started to press against your clothed pussy. His hips bucking forward, dry humping you. He lowered down to your ear, whispering, “ cant you see what you do to me. You’re so sexy and sensual you’re almost making me cum in my pants with your adorable moans, my love. As much as love to hear you right now, I want you to moan and scream my name y/n...begging me to fuck you harder”

All his words, combined with his dry humping made you soaking wet. As much as you hated this you couldn’t help but moan louder. His cock pressing against you was not enough and you needed more. You tried your hardest to resist, “G-get a..way f-from me..” you managed to choke out, trying to not moan anymore and trying to push him off with your body. Suddenly Bucky got angry. Hating how you were fighting him. He tore off your thin leggings in a fast single motion, revealing your soaked panties. He took out his knife and pressed it against you, earning a frantic gasp but you stopped moving. “Stop fighting me doll, for your own good because I swear I will fucking destroy you. I’ve waited too long for this, don’t push me because you won’t like the way I punish you.But......if you behave I’ll make sure to take care of you..real good care darling” he said as his knife traced your body. He grabbed your shirt roughly and ripped it off, slicing your bra open as well.

His mouth watered at the sight of your delicious breasts, making his cock twitch with excitement. His knife trailed down to your panties, making you whimper. “You’re so delicious kitten, I’m going to fuck you so hard. I cant wait till my cock is right in here” he motioned and tapped your clit with his knife. He roughly grabbed them and ripped them open instantly. He threw his knife to the side and quickly started to rub your clit making your back arch with your eyes closed. Your moans now filling up the room. Bucky smiled and took one of your nipples into his mouth, making you quiver and move your hips down into his hand. “Mmm, I knew you wanted this..wanted me...only me” he growled against your chest. “F-fuck Bucky...keep going please”. You hated yourself for saying that but you couldn’t help it, you were in pure ecstasy.

Just as you were about to reach your orgasm, he removed himself from you. Making you whine and buck your hips up, wanting and needing his touch once again. “Don’t worry kitten, I’m not done with you yet”. He quickly undressed and positioned himself at your entrance, rubbing his tip on your clit, making you mewl. “Tell me what you want doll...tell me what you want from me” he coaxed. You didn’t answer, as you were too embarrassed to say anything. His metal hand went to your neck, squeezing it hard. “Tell me y/n..tell me what you want NOW” he yelled, releasing his grip from your throat.

“Fuck me Bucky...please” you finally said. “I don’t think I heard you doll, say it loud and clear”. “FUCK ME BUCKY PLEASE I NEED YOU...PLEASE”. You finally broke. You needed him now, there was nothing in the world you wanted more than to have his cock inside of you, his lips on your skin and his hands all over you. You were finally filled with his big cock slipping in and out of your wet pussy. His hands on your neck, choking you but not too hard like before. His hips snapping in and out of you making your body shake. 

“Such an obedient slut, MY obedient slut. I’m going to break you and bend you to my will. Making you all mine. I’ll make you crave my touch, my attention, my voice. You’re going to live only for me, doll. Only for me” he growled as he pounded into you, rubbing your clit making you loose it. He then started to feel you reach your end, making him moan, “cum on my dick baby...cum for me. Let go” he cooed as he angled himself to reach into you deeper. That’s when you felt your orgasm hit you, your body started to shake, waves of pleasure surging through your body. “Mmm Buckyyyy” you moaned. Making him loose it as well, he coated your insides in his thick warm cum. Pumping himself in and out slowly. Gasping for air.

Fuck he was such a God, he made you want more of him. It was the first night and you were already going crazy for his touch. You wanted him to keep going keep doing you however he wanted, but most importantly to keep pleasuring you. Bucky finally pulled out and laid next to you, looking at your beautiful face. He brought his lips to yours and gave you a soft kiss. “The drug hasn’t worn off baby, don’t think this is over. We’re going until we cant no more, doll.” He said against your lips, flipping you over for round two.

[deborahmessingsfingers]

I’m Tired

pairings: bo burnham x reader

word count: 3283

tags/warnings: explicit language, mental health issues, mental breakdown, angst, hurt/comfort, sad Bo, gender neutral reader

also on ao3

Bo had been off for a while. He’d only been working on the special for a few months when you noticed the first sign. He started to talk a little less, which at first glance, you weren’t too worried about. He often became quite reclusive and introspective when it came to his writing process, channeling all of his energy into planning and drafting.

It’d happened before, when he was in the early stages of producing Eighth Grade. Conversation grew thin and infrequent, all of his time and energy was spent planning, writing and ruminating, though as the process progressed from writing to filming, his sparkle returned and you could see the life and excitement dancing around in his eyes once more.

Since he started Inside, you were lucky if you got to see his eyes at all.

At first, he’d come bouncing back from the guest house each evening, excited to discuss his latest ideas and concepts, eager to receive your feedback and the fresh perspective you gave.

This routine was quick to disappear.

Every day, he’d come back from the guest house a little later and a little more deflated until your interactions were limited to a kiss good morning and a kiss good night.

Eventually he stopped coming to bed all together. You never went into the guest house so as not to disturb his flow, but you assumed he’d taken to sleeping on the fold-out couch. You’d hoped he was sleeping at least, for the sake of his well being.

You missed him. God, you missed him, more than you ever thought possible. Despite the fact that he was a mere few feet away from your front door, you felt more distanced from him now than the times he’d been on the other side of the country, touring, performing, and seeing the world.

He’d always been like that. Limitations in physical proximity could only wedge such a divide between you two, it was always the inner demons and anxieties that caused the rifts.

You attempted to rip the bandaid off after a month of the same, silent routine. You anxiously approached the guest house with the best olive branch you had available; a peanut butter sandwich and a cup of coffee. Your free hand knocked on the door of the guest house tentatively, not wanting to disturb him in the middle of something.

No answer.

You knocked again, still quietly, but with more intention.

No answer.

You shakily grasped the doorknob and twisted, your mind flicking through every dreadful outcome. Opening the door, you see one outcome you didn’t quite anticipate.

The room was dark and humid, the space overwhelmingly cluttered with miscellaneous cords, lights and stands.

And in the middle of all of the chaos, he was just… sitting there.

Hunched over the keyboard in the corner of the room. He just sat and stared at the keys, his white-knuckled fists resting on his thighs. You immediately noticed just how long his hair had grown, long enough to cover his eyes, the rest of his face hidden in it’s shadows. He appeared completely immersed in his own world, clearly missing all your attempts at grabbing his attention.

“Bosey,” you said, your tone just short of a whisper, head cocking to the side to see him a little better from the doorway. Bo inhaled sharply as his head turned to face you, seemingly pulled from his thoughts. His brow was quick to furrow.

“What’re you doing in here?” he asked. His voice was raspy and hoarse, not unlike how it sounded first thing in the morning. It reminded you so much of all the mornings spent waking up next to him, often in his arms, spending hours upon hours talking until noon about anything and everything, at least until you were cast out of your cloud of bliss by your worldly responsibilities. God, how you missed those moments.

“I thought I’d just come check on you. Didn’t think you’d eaten anything in a while so,” you paused, setting the peace offering down with a quiet clink, “thought I’d make myself useful.”

You smiled, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes, and his thanks was expressed simply by mirroring your unconvincing grin. He tutted, running his hands through his hair, as he often did when nervous. You could tell he was exhausted; the bags under his eyes were so dark and he could hardly make conversation with the one person who knew him best.

The air was thick with tension, the awkwardness quickly made you both uncomfortable and your head was reeling with anxieties on how you wound up feeling like this; like an unwelcome stranger in your own guest house.

“You been sleeping okay?” you asked, hand gently gesturing to the fold-out couch behind him as you lent against the doorframe. You felt slight comfort at the sight of tangled bedsheets, though the relief was quickly expunged as you lost count of the wires and equipment covering the mattress.

“Y-Yeah, i’ve been... It’s fine,” he sighed, his large hand wrapping around his jaw to scratch the sides of his beard, “I’m just a little busy right now honey, I-I gotta get back to it.”

His hands slapped his thighs matter-of-factly before he stood up, shuffling towards the back of the room. He began to fiddle with equipment, pointlessly messing around with a tangle of cords he’d picked up from the kitchen bench.

Your eyes instinctively closed shut as you felt a wave of dizziness hit you. His avoidant nature and impatience all but confirmed it; he was not doing well.

You felt incredibly and painfully torn. You knew him better than he knew himself sometimes, but if there was one thing you were both unsure of, it was how to handle situations like these. Pressing any harder would only prove to make him snap, though leaving him to his own devices would only further encourage his bad habits.

You could ruminate on this dilemma for the rest of your life to no avail, but an instinct deep within you pushed you to query just a little more, to try and reach out as gently as you could.

“Have you thought about, um…” you faltered, scrambling to find the right words, “taking a break soon, honey? Even just a little one? I know how important this is to you, but I know in the past you’ve burnt yourself out, and maybe even if you just came inside for a shower, just to reset and maybe just-”

“I said I’m fine.” he interjected harshly. You were caught off guard, now feeling sheepish and bewildered, truly feeling like an intruder. You kicked yourself inwardly for pushing too far, you knew this would happen. You opened your mouth to try and apologise, to take back the supposed infringement, but his voice came through when your own refused.

“I’m about to start filming. Could you…” he asked, hoping you’d get the message and leave without having to ask you explicitly. You were too befuddled to push any further, already regretting the attempts you’d made.

“Of course, sorry honey.” you replied, shaking your head. Your lips pressed together in a tight, forced smile until you left and shut the door behind you. The slam was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

You shook your head to try and clear it, trying with all your might to move on from the incident and figure out a plan moving forward.

He said he was fine.

You knew he wasn’t.

There were a few times you thought it was all going to be okay. Shortly after the guest house dispute, you were surprised by the sound of the back door being opened. He greeted you with a tired smile and you quickly snaked your arms around him, holding on to him for dear life, telling yourself you’d never let go again.

He sat with you in the kitchen, peacefully watching you cook. You could tell he missed your company just by the soft smile on his face, the first one you had seen in a long time, and you beamed at the very sight of him sitting contently with Bruce on his lap. There wasn’t much conversation over dinner, though compared to earlier, the awkwardness was nonexistent. Until dessert.

You wanted to pull out all the stops, utilising every second of this rare quality time to enjoy his company and to show him how much difference a few hours of luxury and relaxation can make.

You left him lounging on the couch to make his favourite dessert - sticky toffee pudding with vanilla ice cream. You were so relieved you could scream at just the simple thought of him zoning out in front of the television with the dogs, truly letting himself just be, for the first time in a long time.

When the pudding was ready however, your cheesy grin quickly dropped as you realised you were presenting dessert to an empty room. The dogs were quick to start barking, running back and forth between yourself and the back door, and you nearly dropped the plates at the sound of that heinous shed door closing once more. You couldn’t believe it. Just when you thought things were starting to look up, he waltzes straight back towards the problem itself.

Not thinking for a second, you set the plates down and marched over to the guest house. You didn’t bother to knock this time, instead assertively opening the door to see him already settled with a keyboard on his lap. His head flew up at the sound of your entrance, mouth flying open with silent questions. You stopped for a moment - both of you did, a little surprised at your bold entry. Coming to your senses, your gait quickly softened, hands clasped loosely in front of you so as not to alarm him.

“I-I made dessert. Your favourite.” you explained meekly, watching him from the doorway once more. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed deeply, filling you with a sense of dread. You knew what would happen if you pushed it, but here you were. You were so desperate at this point, missing the man you fell in love with and frightened of the shell he’d become. Even more so than that, you were frightened for him.

Bo had always had trouble accepting help, and the idea of him asking for it was inconceivable. He’d opened up to you over time about a lot of things, but every time it got a little more serious he’d close up like a clam, refusing entry into his world until the situation simply dissipated.

“I can’t, I’m busy.” he deadpanned, fiddling around with the microphone stand. You could feel the wave of disappointment wash over you once more. For a few hours, you really thought things had taken a turn for the better, for a few hours your hopes had been lifted, all for it to just come crumbling back down tenfold. The adrenaline quickly hijacked your brain, talking on your subconscious’ behalf before you had a moment to strategize.

“You’re always busy.” you snapped. Your voice wasn’t that loud, but you knew he could hear it shake, months of anxiety and concern finally bubbling over. Your fear only grew when you saw a glint of rage flicker behind his eyes.

“It’s my job.” he rebutted with a swift, disapproving shake of his head.

“But you always push yourself too far, Bo. I know you’re just so passionate about what you do, but you always end up so burnt out and I-”

“Stop saying that!” he bellowed, finally placing the keyboard aside and standing up to face you. His height has never intimidated you, but the way in which he towered over you made you feel so small and powerless.

“You keep saying that when I'm not, it’s like you want me to be, like you want me to stop working.” he explained sternly. You felt your words get trapped in your throat, hyper-aware and petrified of digging this hole any deeper.

“I don’t want you to be burnt out, Robert,” you explained, using his full name in hopes it would better emphasize your sincerity, “I just care about you. I’ve seen this happen to you before, when you just go and go and go until you can’t anymore, you stop eating, you stop sleeping and you never talk to anyone about it, you just bottle it all up and let it eat you alive. And I mean, I miss you. God, I miss you so much, but more importantly than that right now, I’m worried about you.” you blurted.

You could feel your body tremble, your veins flooding simultaneously with relief and pure fear after finally airing the grievances you’ve fostered for months.

You watched as he processed your words. You might have just been projecting, but for a moment, you swore you saw his face soften, a part of him wanting so desperately to give in, to surrender and let you help. Lamentably, he huffed out a tired, contemptuous laugh.

After all you said, he simply turned his back to you, picked up his keyboard and continued on like you hadn’t said a peep. For a moment, you stood there, truly gobsmacked, but the piercing screeches of his synthesizer were enough to usher you out the door and back to the house, not stopping until you were in bed and crying into your pillow.

Your mind wouldn’t let up, over-processing every word he spoke, every breath he took, looking for illusory warning signs that this was it. All the years you’d spent together, all the hard work and love and dedication you’d poured into the relationship, all of the sacrifices, all of the rewards, it was all now null and void because you’d pushed him too far.

At some point, your mind had crossed over into the world of paranoia, manipulating every once-pleasant memory of the evening to fit your new narrative, that this was the end.

You don’t remember falling asleep, but the slightly-damp pillow was enough to indicate that it happened pretty fast. Your brain soon caught up with your body, picking up the very noise that woke you up - the shower.

You rose from your bed with a furrowed brow and made your way down the stairs as quietly as you could, as if your presence would scare him off like a fly. You made it face to face with the door of the guest bathroom, the shower was undoubtedly on, and from the excited state of the dogs, Bo was undoubtedly in there. You gently rested your hand against the door, unsure of what to do.

Eventually, you backed up and took refuge on the couch, allowing him space to wash away the day and hopefully clear his mind.

Ten minutes passed, you sat patiently, silently on the couch as you waited for the shower to stop.

Another ten minutes later and you hadn’t moved from your spot, save a few adjustments for Bruce who had curled up under your arm.

It had been half an hour since you sat and your nerves were multiplying by the second. You were using every fibre of your being to hold yourself back from going in there, no longer trusting that gut instinct that, once again, reared it’s ugly head. You could hear it’s faint screams echoing in the back of your head;

‘Push’.

The impulse grew more enticing with every passing second until it had been forty five minutes since you awoke and you could no longer wait.

Pacing up to the door, the hesitation that stopped you from going in last time revealed itself once more. The hesitation was quickly silenced, however, by the sound of muffled sobs.

Your heart was in your throat, your stomach twisting and churning itself into impossible knots in response to the muted lamentations. Your body turned to jelly as you dubiously opened the door, wincing at the creak of it’s hinges. You could feel your heart drop to the floor and shatter at the sight before you.

Bo was curled up in the corner of the bathtub, arms around his knees as his hair completely concealed his face. He was seemingly unbothered by the harsh, hot stream of water hammering against his head, and you could only just make out the shaking of his shoulders through the steam.

Without a moment of hesitation, you stepped out of your shoes, well beyond caring about the clothes you were wearing, and stepped into the bathtub fully clothed to sit behind him. Your legs splayed out on either side of him, and your arms quickly wrapped around to sit atop his own.

You could truly feel him crying now as he leant into your touch, too exhausted to fight any more. You could feel his laboured breathing, you could hear his wordless whispers as he tried and failed to speak. So you spoke for him.

“I’ve got you, Bo.” you said quietly, beginning to rock him back and forth and softly kissing his head. Finally, he managed to squeak out a few words,

“I’m so fucking tired.”

It was punctuated with a sob, and you had to muster every ounce of strength you had not to cry yourself. You’d never seen him like this before. You’d seen him stressed, you’d seen him deflated, you’d seen him tired, overworked and depressed. But never quite this broken.

“I’m so fucking tired. I’m so tired, please” he continued, repeating his mantra over and over again,

‘I’m tired, I’m tired, I’m tired’

You couldn’t imagine how much he must have to say, and neither of you knew quite where to start. But after all these years, he’d finally hit the breaking point.

You continued to slowly rock him back and forth, gently kissing his hair as the both of you sat under the scalding hot stream of the shower.

He tensed up for a moment in your grip, his demons seemingly coming back to remind him he isn’t worthy of help. A vague suggestion of ‘You shouldn’t have to do this’ was muttered under his breath, but this time when you pushed back, he let you. Your hold on him endured, soothingly rubbing small circles on his arm with your thumb until he settled once more.

“I’ve got you.” you reassured him once more, hoping to god that this time you got through. And as you felt his shoulders start to shake once more, you think you just might have.

“Why am I doing this?” Bo asked, voice raised to compete against the strong pelt of the shower. You stayed silent and let him continue.

“What’s the fucking point? I can’t even tell what I'm doing anymore. It’s all I can think about, all I can do is just work on it but I hate everything I come up with, it just makes me so fucking miserable. And sometimes I just wanna stop, for the night, and get into bed with you, and the girls, and just forget about everything for a few hours but I can’t switch my fucking brain off and I’m just stuck in this fucking endless feedback loop in my head and I’m just so tired” he cried, gasping in a loud breath.

“It’s okay, baby,” you cooed, pulling him a little closer to you, “you don’t have to be okay. I’ve got you.”

Bo didn’t know how to say it, he didn’t know where he’d begin, but he was so thankful that you persevered, that you were still there with him, that you were right there holding him through this.

[parker-razor]

many a dream about you

afab!reader x mando (no y/n)

5.2k words, 18+, EXPLICIT!! 

warnings: SMUT (extended warnings under the cut), mentions of injuries, unprotected sex (use protection!), very little editing

summary: when you and mando are forced to share a bed together, you end up having a dream that reveals more than you had hoped...

author’s notes: ahhhh! this is my first fic!! i’ll be honest, i got so excited i wrote most of this in one sitting. indulge me in some of my favorite smutty tropes about everyone’s favorite space dad!

extended warnings: oral (f receiving), wet dreams, thigh grinding, mentions of rough sex, multiple orgasms, overstimulation... i think that’s it

*****

Stars, you were exhausted.

You had just spent three weeks on the Razor Crest with the only bed available to you being a cheap mattress that might as well have just been a sack stuffed with sand. On top of the little sleep you were running on, you had just finished loading three bounties onto the Crest and into carbonite while Mando patched himself up. Dragging three grown men onto the ship and freezing them took all the strength out of you.

You finally collapsed into the pilot’s seat in the cockpit, catching your breath and giving your muscles a well-deserved break. Your eyes flutter closed as your body decompresses from the hard work and no sleep it’s been put through these past weeks. Mando had hired you just a month ago to look after the ship while he was away on hunts. Not to mention the little green gremlin he had adopted as his own, who kept you company and looked to you to get taken care of. It was much better than the life you had known; growing up on the outskirts of Tatooine was hard enough as is, but when your little shop had been pillaged and ransacked, you had nothing left on the small, desert planet. Mando had shown up just in time, sitting next to you in a dive bar.

*****

You had never seen one of his kind before, and to be honest, you were overwhelmed with the way he carried himself. He was big, towering over everyone he passed on his way to the barstools. You wondered why he even bothered if he couldn’t remove his helmet to drink, but you’d never ask. He sat himself just a few stools from yours, and after stealing a few glances with flushed cheeks, you finally opened your mouth to say something.

“Bounty hunters like you must be pretty busy on a planet like this,” you said, trying to talk over the loud band playing in the corner. “Not too many upstanding people tend to find themselves here.”

Slowly turning his helmet to face you, the Mandalorian said, “What does that say about you?”

Damn, you thought, he was quick to the draw.

“It’s not exactly my choice to live here. I’d give anything to get off this ball of sand.”

He says nothing, just turns his helmet forward again. You figure that’s the end of that, at least you tried. You can now say that you’ve talked to a Mandalorian before.

After a few beats of silence, he finally speaks. “Anything?”

You whip your head towards him, trying to figure out where this was going. Of course you wanted to leave, but you didn’t want to come off too eager in case he wasn’t serious.

“I mean, what do you have in mind?” you ask, trying to act as calm as possibly, but you couldn’t help but get a little excited at the prospect of leaving.

“I have… a son. He’s very small and can’t take care of himself yet. I don’t like taking him hunting, but I can’t leave him on the ship by himself,” he pauses, piecing together his words carefully. “I need someone to look after him.”

“So, I’d be his babysitter?”

“And ship sitter. Just keep it clean, nothing complicated.”

You pretended to ponder his proposition, but you knew you’d say yes almost immediately. There was nothing left for you here; no family, no livelihood, no friends. This was the best deal you had gotten in a long time. Except…

“So, what do I get in return?”

“I’d pay you, as much as I can afford. But you’d have your own bed and food.”

You’re sold.

*****

You’re brought back to the present when you hear Mando’s footsteps ascend the ladder to the cockpit. The child is holding onto him, smiling when he sees your face.

“How bad are you hurt?” you ask cautiously.

“I’ll live. Just a gash.”

“Well, I got the bounties in carbonite. But I gotta say Mando, I don’t know if I can sleep another night in a row on that shitty mattress.” He says nothing, and you haven’t figured out if that’s a good sign or a bad sign.

“Not that I don’t appreciate you making room for me! I’m just saying, I think we both need a proper rest tonight, especially after today,” you backtrack. You hear him sigh, nodding his head in agreement.

“Alright. I passed an inn on the way back here. Let’s see if they have any vacancy, hopefully with a bed better than the one you have.” You blush, embarrassed that you came off as ungrateful.

Mando was a mystery to you. He was quiet, a man of few words. It was especially hard trying to read him without being able to see any facial cues or expressions. Nevertheless, something about him exuded strength. He was much taller than you, but he was also just… big. Especially with all the beskar adding a whole other layer of strength. You couldn’t explain the attraction you felt for him. Something about how he towered over you, his visor boring into your face made you weak in the knees. How could you feel this way for someone who you’d barely talked to, let alone never seen their face?

He made you feel weak, but for some reason you liked that. Growing up on your home planet, you had to learn to fight for yourself. You were strong, with curves and muscles that showed just how tough life had made you. You never let a man make you feel less than or weak, always ready to defend yourself. But you liked that Mando made you feel small. It made no sense, but it also made perfect sense.

Sometimes at night, you’d let your hands wander. One hand wandered up to your face, whether to bite down on a finger or cover your mouth to keep yourself quiet, and the other down the front of your pants. Being around Mando so much made it difficult to wait until after he fell asleep to take care of the burning need you felt for him. You had your fair share of flings with the boys in your village, but none of them made you feel the way Mando did. With the most subtle actions he could make a heat blossom in your stomach and goosebumps spread over your arms. Sometimes the way he’d fly the Crest made you clench your thighs together; he looked so in charge in that pilot’s seat. Rubbing tight circles on your clit, clenching around nothing while angling your hips just right, you would be sent into orbit at the thought of his hands taking care of you instead.

After you and Mando had packed up your essentials, you got Grogu into his pram and headed off to the village nearby. You had no idea what planet you were on, but the flowering trees brought some joy to you. In the past weeks travelling with Mando, you had seen so many new things. You had never once left your home, and things like trees and streams had you in awe. You would never get used to how it made you feel.

The village was small, and it didn’t seem like there was anything else around for miles. You got to the motel, one of the larger buildings in the area. The lobby was small and surprisingly clean, much cleaner than the interior of the Crest. An older woman, the innkeeper you presumed, stood at the desk.

“We’d like two rooms. How much would that be?” Mando asked, not interested in entertaining niceties.

“So sorry sir, we only have one room available. A few of our rooms are under renovation, and there’s only one unoccupied that is fit to house anyone,” the woman said with a sickly sweet smile.

Mando sighed, obviously conflicted with the choice laid in front of him. He turned to you for your input.

“I- I don’t mind sharing a room. We don’t have to if you’re not comfortable, I just thought it be nice to escape the ship for the night.” You rushed your words out, feeling shy at the prospect of sharing the room with Mando. He had his own quarters on the ship, and you had yours, if you could even consider them quarters. After a few beats, Mando put some credits on the desk, and took the key the woman was offering.

Pushing down the excitement you felt, you grabbed your things that you had set down and followed Mando to your room. It’s not like you hadn’t been living in close proximity with Mando for the past few weeks anyways.

But this was different.

And you didn’t fully realize why it was so different until you opened the door to your room and saw that there was only one queen sized bed. Your jaw dropped, as you looked to Mando for his reaction. Nothing, as usual. He just walked into the room as if nothing had changed.

How was this gonna go? Were you just supposed to… share? The bed wasn’t puny, plenty of room for the both of you. But this was crossing a line that you didn’t even realize had been established. You didn’t really know much about each other and hadn’t been acquainted for very long. Not to mention the burning need you felt for him growing day by day.

And now you had to share a bed with him. No big deal.

Grogu’s cries for attention brought you out of your reverie of thoughts. You picked him up from his pram and placed him on the bed, allowing him to take in the room. The love and affection for the child had grown immensely since Mando had first introduced the two of you. You were initially shocked at how silently affectionate Mando was with him. You had never expected him to be the paternal type. You had yet to learn how the curious pair had found each other; a small part of you wondered if Mando looked similar to the child under his mask.

Mando had set his things on the chair in the corner and mumbled something about using the refresher. And as quickly as the door shut, you heard the shower turn on and the sound of beskar hitting the floor.

The realization that Mando was maskless, naked, just a few feet away sent a shockwave through your body. Was he tan? Did he have blond or brown hair? Was he truly strong or did the beskar just add extra bulk? You imagined he had scars littering his body, with chest hair dusting his front. The thought of it trailing down beneath his pants sent a shiver down your spine. Stars, your mind was in the gutter.

The sun had set, and Grogu’s eyes started to flutter and shut on one of the pillows on the bed. You picked him up and cradled him, resting your cheek to his. You savored moments like this; the ones that made your heart warm and full of comforting joy. Grogu’s breathing slowed, letting out snores every once in a while. You heard the shower shut off, and carefully placed Grogu into his pram, closing the top for him to sleep in peace.  

Mando stepped out of the refresher in a thin pair of sleep trousers, a similar shirt and, of course, his helmet. Your gaze made you realize that he was definitely not wearing underwear, not leaving much to the imagination. You felt your face heat up as you looked anywhere but at him, almost positive that your face has turned as red as the setting sun.

“Your turn,” Mando said as he sauntered to the chair in the corner. He placed his things on the ground, sat in the chair, and crossed his arms as if to get comfortable.

“You’re not sleeping over there, are you?” you asked.

“I… just assumed… I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable.” Your blush was back with a vengeance.

“I don’t mind. We got this room to relax, and you sure as hell don’t seem at ease with the way you’re sitting.” He said nothing for a few moments before sighing and standing to walk over towards the bed.

Oh Maker, this is actually happening, you thought. What act was more intimate than sharing a bed with someone? Well, there was the obvious one, but…

You scurried to the washroom, desperate to cool yourself down and collect your thoughts. This didn’t have to be a big deal, and if you kept acting all standoffish like you had been, you’d chase Mando away with the bizarre energy you were emitting.

You splashed cold water on your face to calm your blush, brushed your teeth with vigor, and changed into your pajamas. Granted, they were much scantier than the ideal, but you hadn’t expected to be sharing a bed, let alone a room, with the Mandalorian.

Stepping out of the refresher, you see Mando lying in bed with the lamplight on. Maker, you wanted to nothing but climb in with him and lay on his chest…

His chest. This was the first time you’d seen him without all that bulky armor. Through his thin clothing you could tell he was strong, with broad shoulders and contoured muscle. His helmet turned towards you, and what you didn’t know was that he was eyeing you in your not-so-modest sleep clothes as well.

What you didn’t know was how Mando gazed at you when you held the child, cooing at him as he gently tugged on your hair or stroked your cheek. His helmet protected him from you finding out how often he stared at you in adoration. Your curves, your smile, your silent strength. Stars, he thought you were the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen. But what you saw when he looked at you was a silent T-visor staring at you with no emotion.

After a beat, your gaze met the floor as you walked to the other side of the bed, closest to the window. You crawled under the covers, waiting for some quick comment or a reaction from the man next to you. Finally, he spoke.

“Are you sure you don’t want me in the chair?” he asked.

“Stars, Mando, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you’d want to be as far away from me as possible,” you responded, embarrassed.

“That’s- no, not at all. I, uh, just wanted you to feel comfortable,” he stumbled. You had never seen him so lost for words, so taken back.

“I promise, Mando, if anything I feel more comfortable with you next to me.” Oh Maker, why did you just say that? That was the most upfront you’d been with him. Just as you were about to take back your words…

“I feel the same,” he responded quietly. Stars, if your heart didn’t explode at his words.

It was quiet for a few moments, until you said, “Well… goodnight Mando.”

“Goodnight.” He turned off the lamplight and shuffled deeper under the blankets. You were unsure if you should stay as close to the edge as possible or be truly comfortable and let yourself get a little closer to Mando. Before you could make up your mind, exhaustion overtook you and you drifted to sleep.

*****

Mando stirred in your sleep, disturbed by something he hadn’t recognized yet. As he continued to drift in and out of sleep, he heard something that he wasn’t sure was a part of a dream or reality.

Quiet mumblings came from your side of the bed, mixed with indistinguishable groans. His instincts kicked in, becoming fully awake to survey the room for any threats. It took him a moment to realize that as you slept, you had moved closer to Mando – much closer.

Your leg was draped over his torso, with your chest pressed to his side and your arm resting on his chest. But what he noticed most was the way your hips rolled, your core grinding against the side of his thigh. Looking at your face, he could tell you were asleep. Your breaths grew heavier, quiet groans turning into moans. Mando felt his pants grow tighter, not know whether or not to wake you from your obvious wet dream.

Mando froze when he heard you say his name while your hips sped up. “M-Mando, don��t stop… Please…” Fuck, you were dreaming about him. He wanted nothing more than to rub the growing problem in his pants, but he knew that crossed a line.

As your breath started to hitch, he could tell you were getting close. Just as you were about to cum, you jolted awake, breathing heavily while taking in what was going on.

You looked down at the scene you had caused, rendered speechless. Flooded with humiliation, you jumped out of bed and ran to the refresher as Mando shouted your name. You slammed the refresher door and locked it, tears springing to your eyes. Fuck fuck fuck, this was bad. Did you just ruin everything? Mando must hate you now.

“Please open the door, I’m not mad. Let’s just talk,” Mando said through the door, not wanting to reveal how he felt behind a slab of wood. You said nothing, feeling utterly mortified. There’s no way you could look him in the eye (well, helmet) after getting yourself off on his thigh in your sleep. Fuck.

After twenty minutes of Mando trying to convince you that he wasn’t upset and he just wanted to talk, he gave up. Sighing, he pushed himself off the floor and went back to sit on the bed. Though the tension in his pants had gone down, he couldn’t stop thinking about the sounds you made. He looked down to see that you had left a wet spot on his leg, causing him to groan. He had to stop himself from thinking that way, at least for right now while you were upset.

Meanwhile, in the bathroom, you were in shock. You tried your best to recount what had happened, but it didn’t help that you were asleep for most of it. The dream you were having a blur; Mando on top of you, and the intense feeling of being filled to the brim. Then, you remember waking up to Mando staring down at you, putting two and two together, and that was that.

You realized that Mando was awake before you were, which means he was watching you… do that to him. He didn’t try to wake you up or stop you. He was watching you get off. That had to mean… he liked it. He liked seeing you like that. Right?

You slowly stood up from the bathroom floor, wiping the tears you didn’t notice had fallen down your cheeks. Taking a few deep breaths, you calmed your bedhead and opened the washroom door, rounding the corner to face Mando sitting on the bed.

He looked up from the spot on the floor he was staring at as he sat deep in thought.

“Are- are you okay?” he asked, uncertain of what he should say.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I was asleep and I wasn’t trying to make you uncomfortable,” you admit, eyes glued to the floor. A few moments of deafening silence pass, with you shuffling in the spot where you stood and Mando’s helmet fixed towards you.

“What did you dream about?” Mando asked quietly. The Mandalorian was normally so stoic and strong in his conviction that to hear his voice quiver in nervousness made your gaze shoot up to his.

“It’s… embarrassing. I don’t want you to think less of me.” Your face turned beet red, a trait of yours you didn’t realize you possessed until you met Mando. He was the first person to make you feel shy and flustered.

“I won’t, I promise. I just want to know… I need to know.”

“It was… about me. And you.” Mando rose to walk over to where you were standing, near the foot of the bed.

“What about us, exactly? You can tell me. Tell me everything.” You hesitated to meet his gaze, eyes wide and nervous.

“You were… on me. In me. All over me.” You felt yourself getting breathless as Mando got closer to you, as you retold your dream without getting too graphic yet still admitting that you had dreamt of him taking you.

“And was I gentle, or was I rough?” Mando’s voice grew husky, just as breathless as you. Maker, his voice made you weak at the knees.

“Gentle, at first. But the longer you went you got rougher. Much rougher.” Your voice dropped into a whisper as Mando found himself right in front of you, almost chest to chest. Your eyes dropped to admire his chest, what it’d look like without his shirt. You wanted to trace every scar that marked his skin, kiss him, bite him.

He grabbed your chin with his thumb and forefinger, drawing your gaze from his chest to his helmet.

“And which did you like better? Tell me,” he whispered through the modulator, but there was no filtering out how deep and raspy his voice had gotten, like you had never heard before.

“I… I was just happy you were touching me,” you whispered, in shock that this wasn’t just another dream. His hand drifted from your chin to your neck, caressing every inch of you. You closed your eyes, unable to believe that he was touching you without his gloves on.

Suddenly, both hands came to your waist and pulled you into his chest, your hands finding their place on his chest. You whimpered, never feeling so small, not knowing why you liked it so much.

“Do you want me to touch you, sweet one? Like I did in your dream?” he rasped.

“Please… please touch me, Mando.” He groaned at that, manhandling you so your back turned to the bed and quickly thrown onto the bed.

“I like hearing you beg, love. Beg some more for me.” You whimpered, flushed and embarrassed but in the best way. Mando yanked at your legs so they were hanging off the bed with him standing between your knees. His hands drifted from your stomach up to your breasts, squeezing them while his thumbs rubbed your hardened nipples through your shirt.

Unable to take it any longer, you sat up and yanked your shirt over your head as Mando did the same. His expanse of muscle was all you could think about, the thatches of chest hair made you want to run your hands all over him.

He dropped to his knees in front of you, playing with the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“Tell me, did I eat this sweet pussy of yours in your dream?” You moaned, unable to remember but wanting his mouth on you all the same.

“I want you to, but your helmet…” Mando grabbed the blanket that was at the end of the bed, throwing it so one end covered your stomach and the other fell near the middle of his back. Awkwardly, you saw him maneuver under the blanket to take his helmet off, and then your shorts.

Before you could say so much as a “please,” Mando’s mouth enveloped your cunt with his hot mouth. Your gasp was loud and ragged, not expecting him to feel this good. You felt him moan into you, licking from your hole up to the tip of your clit.

“Am I the one who made you this wet, my sweet one? You’re dripping onto the bed for me,” you heard him rasp under the blankets.

“Please, Mando, you feel so f-fucking good,” you gasp as he puts his mouth on you again. You reach under the blanket to grab his hair to pull him the exact spots you wanted his mouth to be. Maker, his mouth was immaculate. His tongue messily toyed with your clit, groaning in your cunt when you tugged his hair which sent vibrations everywhere.

When he found that one spot, just to the left of your clit, you started to feel that familiar tension in your stomach, the one you’d get when you’d touch yourself in the silence of night in the Crest. You tilted your hips just right as he sucked your clit into your mouth, letting out an animalistic moan.

As soon as you felt him hum into your cunt again, you were gone. You fell over a cliff higher than ever before as everything went utterly white, white in your vision and white noise in your ears.

Maker, you came so fucking hard. And through the whole thing, Mando licked and sucked at you, slowing down when you eventually came down. You felt like you were floating through the aftermath as Mando kissed the inside of your thighs, and through the reverie you were in you felt the tickle of facial hair on your skin. You smiled to yourself, finally able to know something about the appearance of the man you adored so.

Mando quickly put his helmet back on under the blanket before pulling himself over you, stroking your face with the back of his hand.

“Do you want more? Or do you want me to stop?” he asked. As spent as you felt, at the sound of his voice your body began rearing up for more.

“More. I need your cock, Mando, so badly,” you whimpered, feeling a brand new wave of wetness flood at the apex of your legs.

You picked your head up, finally wrenching your eyes open as you felt Mando start to take his pants off. You were very suddenly awake again when you saw his cock spring out. He was big, bigger than the boys you had taken by far.

“I- I don’t know if you’ll fit. I’ve never had a man bigger than you.”

“No, sweet one, you’ve only had boys. I can’t wait to be the first man who wrecks you,” he rasps into your ears as your hands wrap themselves around his neck and down his back. Stars, he was sexy, an odd mix of shy and domineering all at once.

He started rubbing the tip against your cunt, and suddenly you were on fire again. You had never tried to get yourself again after one orgasm, always too spent and high on dopamine to go again. So you never got to realize that once you had one, more orgasms were not very difficult to achieve. Until, Mando’s tip swirled around your clit and you could feel the coil tighten yet again.

“M-Mando, I’m gonna cum again if you keep doing that,” you whimpered, causing him to groan and only put more pressure on your clit.

“Then do it, my love. I want to see your face when you cum for me.” You let out a series of curses until you came again, slightly weaker than the previous one but it rocked through you. Before you could even come down, Mando thrusted himself into you in one go. You let out a yell bordering on a scream, feeling your pussy stretch itself to fit all of him. Stars, the burn of the stretch made you shiver.

“Oh f-fuck, my sweet girl has an even sweeter pussy,” he gasped as he started to thrust himself into you. “S-so fucking t-tight and w-warm, I’m not gonna last…”

Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as Mando’s thrusts sped up, slamming into you at an unfathomable rate.

“No no, look at me. Look at me while I’m making you feel good,” Mando growled as he grabbed your cheeks to make you look at his helmet. You tried so hard to keep your eyes open, but as Mando tilted his hips just right, jamming into your G-spot, you lost control over your body. You were saying something, but you were so far gone that you couldn’t decipher what it was.

“Is that- fuck- all you can say, pretty girl? Please? Please what? What do you need, fuck I’ll give you everything you want, just say the word,” Mando rambled, just as drunk on your pussy as you were on his cock.

“D-d-don’t stop, p-please don’t s-stop,” you uttered out, not completely sure if you were having one long orgasm or if it was building to something even bigger.

“I’m never gonna stop, baby, never wanna stop…” Without warning, an orgasm so strong racked through your body. You had never cum just from penetration before, but the way the hair at the base of Mando’s cock was brushing against your cunt as he fucked you sent you beyond the edge.

“Oh my fucking- stars, baby you’re so tight I can barely move… I-I’m gonna-“ Mando gasped as you felt him cum deep inside you, moaning louder than you thought he would.

You both gasped for breath, utterly exhausted from the best sex in both of your lives. Mando pulled out and laid next you on the bed, stroking your hair gently.

“I wish I could kiss you right now,” you croaked, voice almost gone from overuse. Silence fell over the two of you, and you wanted to take back your words, until…

“Close your eyes. And don’t open them. Promise?” he said.

“I promise, I swear I won’t,” you said, shutting your eyes with your heart leaping at the prospect of finally kissing him. After a few moments of the sounds of shuffling next to you, you felt a soft pair of lips meet yours. It was tentative at first, but after a few gentle pecks Mando caressed your face and kissed you with a passion so strong it took your breath away. You felt his mustache tickle your upper lip as he kissed like if he pulled away, he wouldn’t know what to do with himself.

When he finally pulled away, you reminded yourself to keep your eyes closed as he put his helmet back on. You pulled yourself over him, almost in the exact position you had found yourself in when you woke up from your dream, except this time Mando’s arm was draped under your neck.

“I’m glad we finally did that,” Mando admitted after a while. “I’ve wanted to kiss you since the first day you started living on the Crest.” You lifted your head from his chest and rested your chin on his right pec, gazing at his face.

“You mean that?” you ask.

“Why wouldn’t I?”

You grinned from ear to ear, thanking the Maker that this wasn’t just because Mando was horny and he had found you getting yourself off on him. He had wanted you, too.

“For a minute I thought…I thought you’d tell me to leave and never come back. I was so embarrassed to wake up like that. But… I guess it ended up helping us out,” you chuckled. You heard Mando chuckle too as his chest shook a bit, warming your heart.

“I will never ask you to leave. I want you to stay, I need you to stay,” he admitted quietly. “Plus, I don’t know anyone else who would take care of Grogu so well.”

“Oh, Maker, Grogu!” you exclaimed, realizing Grogu had been closed in his pram in the corner throughout the entire… act.

“The device is soundproof, he didn’t hear a thing,” Mando explained. You let out a sigh of relief.

“I don’t know, with those ears?” you laughed, hearing Mando laugh with you.

“Maybe they’re more for balance rather than hearing,” Mando replied, causing you to let out a loud laugh, making joy flood Mando’s body.

“We can only hope…”