#like I said I'm just trying to keep some semblance of composure

[cuteniarose]

As someone who has seen the LoK Book 4 finale, I can say with full confidence that if Korra was down, Kuvira would absolutely not say no to, at the very least, a one night stand

As someone who created Suiren and thus is the ultimate authority on every last thing about her, I can say with full confidence that hot and muscular is very much her type and if Korra was down, she'd absolutely go for it, shared history be damned

And as someone who has said before that at some point Suiren and Kuvira would like to try with a third, I can say with full confidence that they would both be down. Would Korra be? Idk, probably not, but for the sake of argument I could see it happening a few years post-LoK. Mostly because I need a Korviren threesome to happen at least once. For my mental health. It would be the equivalent of being sent to the seaside in the Victorian era. Please

[yazmarina]

close to you

for hit play, a drabble event.

—"break my heart and start a fire, you got me overnight, just let me be" (close to you by gracie abrams)

oscar piastri (f1) x afab!reader

warnings/notes: smut, protected sex, cunnilingus, first date, basically you match with oscar on a dating app lol

a/n: what a weekend guys. have this as the cherry on top <3

You never really expected anything much to come out of it.

You swiped right on the app, highly suspicious if this was really even him, but for the plot (as the kids say), you wanted to try anyway.

The screen graphics confirmed that it was a match and you felt your blood run cold.

Oscar Piastri, Formula 1 driver, had matched with you on a dating app.

You locked your phone and paced about the room for a solid five minutes, refusing to pick your device back up. You yelped as you saw the screen light up. You shoved it under your pillow, rushing out of the room and pacing even more, but this time, around your living room.

It took another ten minutes for you to gingerly return to your room, your trembling hand flipping your phone upright to expose your notifications.

Oscar: Hey :)

You nearly dashed out onto your balcony and leaped off the edge right then. With bated breath, you tapped on the notification, thoughts cycling seemingly a million miles a second.

You: Hi! Fancy seeing you here haha

You groaned immediately after sending the message, cringing at the utter lack of eloquence.

A sob nearly escapes your lips when you see his reply.

Oscar: Don't tell on me, then ;) I take it you're a fan?

"You have no idea, Oscar Piastri," you whispered to yourself as you tried to maintain a semblance of composure in your following messages.

You really should have practiced restraint, a cautious approach to this whole situation. What if it was some sort of poser? What if whichever dickhead pretending to be Oscar posts your responses online to dunk on you? Your face was exposed, goddammit.

But after two hours of messaging and a selfie sent from his side to prove that, yes, he really was Formula 1 driver Oscar Piastri, the two of you agreed to meet the next day.

You're still not fully convinced at that point but you decided to go with it. You sent a vague yet urgent message to your friend who lives nearby, in case you need an escape plan.

You covered all your bases, said all your prayers, and plucked every stray eyebrow into perfection.

Your heart nearly gives out now as you look up to see Oscar approaching your table, the sun gleaming down, casting a glow on his wavy brown hair. You're seated just outside the restaurant doors, the breeze gently displacing some of your own hair.

A nervous giggle escapes you as you tuck your hair back in place. Oscar beams and pulls the chair out in front of you.

"Hi. Sorry to keep you waiting."

You shake your head almost instantly. "No, it's okay. I wasn't here for long."

Oscar smiles even wider and you clamp your hands together under the table to stop them from shaking.

"It's nice to meet you," Oscar says, reaching his hand out. You chuckle at the formality but grasp his hand in yours nonetheless.

"Same here. Though, I'm a little nervous," you reply.

"Though, I hope you aren't super weirded out about going on a date with a fan," you rush out. "I just really enjoy the sport and I think you're a great driver."

You see a hint of pink dusting Oscar's cheeks. Your own face heats up at the realization.

"It's fine," Oscar consoles. "Thanks, by the way. I mean, you're gorgeous, so you're not the only one in awe here."

Oscar's eyes widen as he realizes the words that had come tumbling out of his mouth. Your own jaw slackens and another nervous laugh rises from your chest.

"Thank you," you manage to splutter out. "I-I don't know what else to say to that without sounding like some lovesick fan."

Oscar bursts out laughing, his hand coming up to rub at the back of his neck. You realize that every inch of skin above his shirt collar is tinged with red.

"I think that's our signal to order," Oscar offers, flipping through the menu in front of him.

You nod silently, doing the same.

-

The text you send to your friend after your lunch with Oscar is just as vague, if not a little more.

You tell them that your date went well and that you'll be moving to another place. You don't exactly clarify what this other place is, but with the way your friend tells you to be safe and call immediately if anything goes wrong, you know that they're aware of where this is going.

You lean back, comfortable in the passenger seat of Oscar's car. You set your phone down, sneaking a peek at the man beside you, and for a split second your eyes meet.

"You good?" Oscar asks, his eyes trained back on the road. There's an easy smile playing on his lips and you can still see pink on his cheeks.

"Yeah," you say, digging through your purse and retrieving some breath mints. You pop two in your mouth and you offer Oscar the container.

You smile knowingly as Oscar glances at your outstretched hand, his smile widening into a bashful grin.

"Want some?" you offer, toying with the candy in your mouth. Just then, you come upon a stoplight and Oscar turns to you fully.

He holds up his palm and you shake out two more mints onto his awaiting hand. Oscar places them in his mouth, watching as you put the candies away.

"Any particular reason you'd be needing breath mints?" Oscar asks almost playfully.

You snicker. "Not really. Just wanted to get the taste of food out of my mouth."

Oscar hums, eyes trailing down your face. You can see him continue to suck on the mints but he soon loses his patience and bites down, grinding his teeth.

Yours are all dissolved, the fresh sting of spearmint settling on your tongue.

"I don't really do this," Oscar suddenly declares.

You raise both of your eyebrows. "Do what?"

"Take girls home on the first date."

A grin settles on your face as you hear the words. You lean in closer, over the center console, noting the way Oscar inhales as you do so.

"I'm flattered," you admit. Oscar laughs, mirroring your posture, the proximity between you two diminishing.

Oscar kisses you, tenderly at first, his hand automatically coming up to hold you in place. It's easy to forget that it's the middle of the day in sunny Monaco, the tint on his car windows not the ideal shade to necessarily hide what you're doing.

You pull, back glancing at the stoplight just as it turns green.

It takes a honk from the car behind you to get Oscar out of his daze.

-

Oscar is a gracious host, as you quickly learn. Gracious in a way that his hands immediately cradle you close the second his front door latches shut. His lips are just as welcoming as they trail down your neck, careful and almost nervous. It's also so hospitable how he so eagerly ushers you into his room, settling you down on the sheets as he does all the work for you.

Your clothes are stripped one by one and the familiar anxiety rises back up in your throat. Oscar senses the shift in your mood and pauses just as he's undoing his own pants.

"We don't have to," Oscar offers, taking ahold of one side of your face.

You kick yourself in your mind. This is an opportunity you would never pass up and it's right in the palm of your hand.

You shake your head. "I want to. I really want to. With you."

Oscar grins and practically tackles you down on the bed. It takes some effort but the rest of his clothes finally come off and the two of you lay bare on his bed.

You can feel the desperation in his movements and you reciprocate with as much eagerness. You think for a moment what it could have been in your lunch that caused the both of you to just want to jump in bed together, but you ultimately doubt that the tapas had anything to do with it.

It feels surreal, having Oscar's mouth on your core, and even more unbelievable the way his fingers work as if they already know you, how to please you. You're trembling by the time Oscar comes back up, lips smeared with your arousal.

You blink the tears out of your eyes as you watch Oscar reach over to his nightstand, expertly dispensing a condom, rolling it down on his rock-hard shaft.

You scramble to get him close, not even caring about how quick he plunges inside you, the stretch eliciting a hiss from between your teeth. You relax and Oscar takes this as a sign to start moving.

"Jesus, fuck—" Oscar curses. "You're fucking tight."

You let out a breath, holding Oscar's body close as he fucks you, steady and unrelenting.

You don't particularly care if everything he's said up to this point is a lie. You could be his fifth this week, you could be herded out his apartment the moment he finishes. You really don't mind, not when he feels this good inside you.

"Oscar," you gasp as he starts to pick up his pace. Even that doesn't seem real. The way his name rolls off your tongue registers like a faraway dream to you.

Oscar pulls back to look at you, his hair falling over his eyes. You've gushed about this exact look a few times online. The thought embarrasses you a bit and you can't help the blush that creeps up your neck.

"What?" Oscar asks, the corners of his mouth turning up as he watches you.

You shake your head. "Nothing. Don't look at me like that."

Oscar smirks, pressing his mouth to yours in a heady kiss. Your whines and moans are muffled as Oscar takes you closer and closer to your release. You claw at his back, digging your nails into his supple skin. Your hips start to move along with his, your own orgasm now within reach.

The two of you cum almost simultaneously and Oscar stills inside of you, his mouth hanging open as the euphoria completely washes over him. You're panting, eyes unfocused, even as Oscar pulls out to discard the condom.

Oscar plops back down beside you and you can't help the giggles that erupt as the two of you catch each other's eye.

"That was great," Oscar muses, staring at the ceiling, his hand patting around the bed until it finally finds yours. He slots his fingers between the spaces of your own.

You risk a peek at him and you take it all in. A strange feeling blooms in your chest.

Oscar turns to you and you quickly look away.

"It's kind of cute how you think I don't notice you looking," Oscar says, scooting closer.

You meet his eyes again and the strange feeling only flourishes. Pessimistically, you think of that one quote about never meeting your heroes. You start to think that it might be true.

The illusion is shattered. You've come too close. Icarus reincarnated, the sun staring you right back in the face.

You anticipate the sugarcoated rejection.

"Wanna stay over?"

You blink.

"Stay over?" You repeat rather plainly. Oscar nods.

"Yeah. I'll get us dinner." Oscar tucks your hair behind your ear. "Unless you'd rather I drive you home."

A giddy sort of sensation shoots through your body. You tentatively reach out, laying a hand on Oscar's face.

Maybe you could get just a little closer to the sun.

You peck his lips briefly, smiling as you pull away.

"No. I guess you can have me overnight."

[multifandombitxh]

Keep It Down

Pairing: Din Djarin x Fem!Reader

Genre: Smut/Angst with some fluff sprinkled in there ✨

Warnings: Self pleasure, caught in the act, jealous/protective Din, 18+

AN: some good ol Jealous!Din for the girlies 😌 It's such a stereotypical fic gang I'm gonna be so real with you lmao. It's also a long one so prepare for the worst typos you've ever witnessed.

PS I haven't seen S3 yet but I got back into the hype 💁‍♀️

18+ minors dni

It had been quite some time since you were able to have a moment to yourself. So long, in fact, that you couldn't remember the last time you did anything for yourself that was even remotely relaxing. You had been stuck on one mission for months, scouring the corners of each galaxy for a specific target with an unreasonably high bounty over their head. Din kept telling you it would be worth it in the end, but you were beginning to doubt that sentiment about two months into the search.

After a very pleasant visit to Alderaan, you were able to snag something for yourself to help with some much needed "stress relief".

You did your best to hide it from Din, considering you really didn't want him to know you'd just purchased a vibrating self massager. They were hard to come by, so when you found a merchant that sold them discreetly, you knew you had to take the chance. After it was all said and done, and Din asked where you'd been while he was busy getting information about the target, it was hard to explain to him where you'd gone.

"And where have you been this whole time?" He asked as you approached him outside of a local bar.

"I was, um, chatting up some locals," You lied, trying to maintain some semblance of composure as he stared you down. "Wasn't able to find anything about the target. I don't think he's been here."

"Well, while you were busy wasting your time, I was able to find one of his distant relatives," He explained, "Turns out he has such a high bounty for more than just murder, he's a real piece of shit in the eyes of his family. She said she knows where he might be."

"Yeah? Where?"

"Tatooine."

You scoffed. "That's not far."

"Which means we need to leave soon," He explained, "There's a crew heading there in just a few hours."

"Okay, so who's the crew?" You asked, eyeing him suspiciously. "Why can't we just go on our own? The ship could make it."

"It could, but not that quickly," He sighed, "Their ship is a little more advanced. It'll get us there faster."

You shrugged, raising an eyebrow at him. "Have you talked to them?"

He nodded once and began to walk off, likely in the direction of the meeting place. "I have. That distant relative? She knows these guys, let me talk to one of them over her communicator. They said they'll take us there, no questions asked."

You followed closely, trying to match his pace. "I find that hard to believe."

"You find a lot of things hard to believe," He teased, nudging your shoulder with his own. "It's kept us out of a lot of trouble. Always liked that about you."

You tried not to react to the compliment- the last thing he needed was an ego boost- but internally, it made your heart flutter and your stomach feel heavy. You opted not to respond to this, hoping he wouldn't press.

Unfortunately, that only made it worse.

"Would it kill you to take a compliment every once in a while?" He asked, his tone annoyed.

"It might," You replied with a smile, "Never done it, so I don't know."

"Maybe you should try it some time," He scoffed back at you, causing you to roll your eyes.

Your relationship with Din was complicated to say the least. You knew from the start you had some kind of attraction to him- what kind, you weren't sure, but it was strong and unrelenting. His voice was dangerously enticing, leaving you shivering any time he spoke just above a whisper, and the mystery of his face only added to the excitement. You had no clue what he looked like under that helmet, but you didn't care at this point. It never occurred to you to fantasize about his appearance- the way he carried himself, his voice, his confidence, everything about him struck you more.

But you'd be lying if you said you weren't a little bit curious about the color of his eyes.

When the two of you finally arrived at the crew's headquarters, you gave him a skeptical look. The warehouse before you was old, rusting and decaying in every corner. It was discolored, looking to have once been a pale green. The roof had caved in in several places, and the stairs to the roof were a death trap waiting to collapse on any unsuspecting victims. Din took note of your expression, waving his hand once to dismiss it.

"Not a word," He commanded, "I don't want to hear it."

"All I'm saying-"

"Don't make me tell you twice, Y/N. I already know what you're going to say, so zip it."

Frowning, you folded your arms over your chest in a pout. You followed him inside, passing through a creaky metal door that you were sure would be better off as scrap metal. Din led the way, checking corners and keeping one hand close to his blaster. As you entered the warehouse, the smell of burning rubber invaded your nostrils, causing you to make a face. As you rounded a corner, a large, shiny silver ship sat in the center of the large open space.

It stood out like a sore thumb, clean and sparkling among the rubble. You both exchanged looks, watching as three people stood around the ship and chatted away. They didn't seem hostile, but you knew better than to underestimate them. You approached carefully, keeping an eye out for any others who might be hiding nearby. One of them took notice of you as you stepped under a light, giving you away.

"Hey, the Mandalorian is here!" He called out, waving excitedly at the two of you. The man was tall and thin, barely any meat on his bones but a smile that was charming in its own way. "He's got a friend! Come on over, you guys!"

Din glanced over at you slowly, and you returned his look with a shrug. As you walked over to the group, you took in the remaining two of the crew; a woman with short, dark hair, several tattoos, and a frown that would scare off anyone. The other, a man of similar stature to the first, wore round, thick glasses, and was covered in what appeared to be oil.

"Lera said you'd be coming soon," The man said, "What are your names? I'm Dom, that's Starsei, and this guy over here is my twin, Arus."

"Y/N," You greeted, offering a small smile, then gesturing to Din. "He won't tell you his name, just call him whatever you like."

Din nodded, affirming your words. Dom watched the two of you for a moment, a huge grin still plastered to his face. A fourth member of the crew emerged from underneath the ship, covered in more oil than Arus. His dark, straight hair clung to his forehead and his mouth hung open as he breathed heavily. Oil stuck to his bare torso as he offered the two of you a wave.

"And that's Nox," Dom said, an annoyed tone to his voice.

You couldn't help smiling at Nox- he was handsome, likely more handsome than most- with a wide jaw, dark stubble, and his body toned similarly to that of a God. You shifted your weight as he locked eyes with you, shooting you a half smile that gave you butterflies. Din stood beside you, moving closer as he noticed the tension that hung between you and the mystery man. Nox took note of Din as well, offering him a full smile.

"Have any trouble getting here?" He asked, his voice just as dreamy as he looked.

"No," Din said simply.

An uncomfortable silence fell over the room as the two of them held each other's gaze, as if a silent conversation was happening just between them. You cleared your throat and looked over to Dom, giving him a warm smile. "So, um, when do we leave?"

"As soon as you're ready," He replied, "We were just finishing up repairs on the ship, so you're welcome to head inside and make yourselves at home. We'll all be roommates for the next two days, so we'll do a big dinner tonight to get to know each other better."

"Sounds great," You said, your voice as friendly as you could muster. There was a clear rivalry brewing between Nox and Din, and you were trying to do everything in your power to alleviate the tension. "We'll head inside."

Din ignored you, still staring at Nox. Irritated, you grabbed his upper arm and began dragging him toward the ship, smiling at the others along the way. Nox caught your eye again and you smiled, hoping he wasn't intimidated by Din too much. Once inside the ship, you all but slammed Din against a wall once you were out of earshot of the others.

"What is wrong with you?" You asked.

"What's wrong with me?" He replied, his voice filled with anger. "What's wrong with you?"

"I haven't done anything wrong!" You said, shouting in a whisper. "You're the one acting crazy!"

"Oh, I'm the crazy one?" He laughed, "I'm not the one making doe eyes at strangers."

Your mouth hung open in shock. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me, Y/N," He went on, "This is serious. We don't know them. If he tries something because you couldn't help yourself, and everything goes sideways, this was all for nothing."

"Why do you care?" You asked, becoming annoyed with his reasoning. "He's hot, give me a break! I'm allowed to think people are hot, Din!"

He let out a deep sigh, shaking his head. "We're on a mission, Y/N. This isn't the time."

"Well, it's been a long mission," You huffed, raising an eyebrow at him. "And I'm bored. The least I can do is have a little fun."

In truth, you hadn't even been planning on doing anything with Nox other than admire his good-looks. Your feelings for Din ran deep, and you weren't about to ignore those feelings for one good looking guy. If anything, you were hoping this would show Din that you weren't his, and that he had no claim over you. Maybe, just maybe, it would be enough for him to come clean about his own feelings.

If he even had any for you, that was.

Once everyone was loaded up onto the ship and you'd set off, you found yourself relaxing on a very comfy couch in a very cramped lounge area. The ship was dimly lit, offering little light to help you find your way around, so you opted to sit down and wait until someone told you to do something. After a while, Arus found you, and decided to sit with you.

"So, uh, is your partner, um... Okay?" He asked quietly.

"He's fine," You said, waving your hand.

"What was he so angry about?"

You shrugged, trying not to give away what was really going on between you. "Beats me."

You decided to get to know Arus a bit, finding out that he and Dom were engineers that escaped from the Empire many years ago after faking their deaths. You learned that Starsei is their pilot, and she seems standoffish because she doesn't often speak. She was a prisoner of the Empire, who helped Dom and Arus escape many years ago. Nox is their newest recruit; also an engineer, but mostly specializes in communications. He also used to be a smuggler.

After a while of chatting back and forth, Nox joined the party, sitting between you and Arus.

"Seems like the Mandalorian isn't having a great time if I'm not mistaken," Nox joked, glancing over at you. "Thought he was gonna slit my throat after I saw him in the hall just now."

"He'll warm up to everyone eventually," You said with a small smile, "He's a little hesitant about new people."

"So, how long have you two been together?" Nox asked, wiggling his eyebrows at you. Shock took over your features and you laughed awkwardly at the gesture.

"We're not together," You stated, "We've been working together for a long time now. Maybe a year."

Nox seemed to ponder your response for a moment as Dom entered the room, knocking on the wall to get everyone's attention.

"Arus, we need you up front," Dom said in a soft voice. "Star could use some help."

Arus excused himself, leaving you with Nox in silence. You tried to relax, sinking into the sofa as much as you could to appear as non-threatening as possible. Nox did the same, leaning back and yawning as he crossed his arms over his broad chest. The only sound was the rush of the ship, shaking softly as it dove through space.

"I want to know more about you," Nox said after a moment, turning to meet your gaze. His green eyes were soft, but lidded. "Who is Y/N, exactly? Other than the Mandalorian's pet, I mean."

"I am not his pet," You scoffed, laughing slightly and hitting his upper arm before looking away. "We're friends, that's all."

"You might want to check on that with him," He replied, "He was ready to kill me earlier just for looking at you. I don't think that's a normal thing to do for someone who's just a friend."

Nox's hand came to rest on your knee, his palm open fully and his thumb gently stroking back and forth. "If I'm being honest, I think he could tell why I was looking at you, and I think that pissed him off."

When you met his gaze, a pit formed in your stomach. Nox was handsome, and charming, and clearly making a move on you. But... Something was wrong. It felt wrong. There was something about the way his hand felt on your knee that made your skin crawl, his voice made you cringe, and the entire setting was uncomfortable. It was hard to pinpoint exactly why, until you thought a little harder about it.

He wasn't Din.

"I... Think I should go," You said, standing from the couch and turning back to face him briefly. "Look, you seem nice. But I'm... I'm not interested."

He smirked up at you. "I knew it. You totally have a thing for each other."

Dom appeared in the doorway again, a huge grin on his face. "Who's ready to eat?"

-

After what felt like hours, you were finally able to step away from dinner to your quarters- Starsei showed you the way- closing the door behind you. You removed your gear, tossing it to the floor and sighing in relief at the loss of the heaviness. Removing the massager from your pocket, you walked to the bathroom and gave it a good wash, not trusting it after being in your pocket all day.

Once you returned to the room, you actually took in what it looked like. Star had told you that you and Din would have to share one room, which hadn't bothered you until you realized there was only one bed that sat in the center of the room, facing the door. It looked big enough for both of you, but still, you knew it would be an awkward conversation to have once he arrived.

The room was dimly lit- much like the rest of the ship- one wall light sitting above the door and casting a reddish glow over the entire room. The bed looked uncomfortable, with a thin, gray blanket sitting atop the mattress and two equally thin pillows where your heads would rest. It wasn't home, by any means, but it was a place to sleep.

With that, you laid down in the bed, shivering from anticipation. It had been a long time since you'd had enough privacy for something like this. Not bothering to remove your pants, you slowly lowered your hand past the waistband and sighed softly as the blue silicone material grazed your skin. With one press of the button, you felt yourself melting into the hard mattress, all of your worries fading away with the soft sound of buzzing.

Your breathing began to pick up in pace and you wriggled slightly as the sensation became more and more intense. It was getting hard to suppress the sounds you were making, so you bit down on your lip to try and stifle whatever noises threatened to come out. A shaky breath managed to worm its way out of you, hitching in your throat as it started to escape.

Thoughts of Din infiltrated your imagination, and you didn't try to suppress them as they came. You thought about the sound of his voice, talking you through the pleasure and egging you on. A wave of energy passed through you and went straight to your core, wetness beginning to pool. You thought about his hands pinning you down as he had his way with you, panting and sweating above you. It was almost too much, and it felt like the room was spinning.

Closing your eyes, you began to focus on finding release, waves of pleasure flooding your body with each passing second. Your breathing picked up in pace, and it was getting harder and harder to stop the tiny moans that escaped your throat. With a flick of your wrist, the massager hit the perfect spot, pulling a sharp gasp out of you. Just as it left your lips, a large, warm hand clamped over your mouth.

Terror filled your body and replaced all sense of satisfaction, forcing you to rip your hand out of its hiding place and your eyes to shoot open. Din hovered over you, one hand covering the lower half of your shocked face while the other pressed into the mattress beside your head. He was missing most of his armor, his helmet the only piece that remained. Adrenaline shot through your veins, and you struggled against his hold.

"Sshh," He shushed you, holding a single finger up to the part of his mask where his lips would be. "Everyone in this quadrant is gonna hear you if you don't keep it down."

Confusion replaced the shock, your eyebrows drawing together as you breathed heavily through your nose. He seemed to see the questions in your eyes, and you could swear you could hear the smirk in his voice when he spoke again.

"I could hear you from down the hall," He explained, "Thought maybe you were... With someone. But it looks like I was wrong."

You shot him a glare, thinking back to the evening you spent with Nox and how it must have implicated something different to Din.

"I don't have to help you, if you don't want me to," He reasoned, the hand covering your mouth beginning to lessen the pressure it was applying. "I just don't want you to get caught by the others. Just say the word, I'll walk away and we'll never speak of this again."

You wished you could see his face to make a better decision about what his intentions were, but with the helmet in the way, it made it impossible. You thought back to the feelings you were having just minutes ago, and felt excitement bubble up in your gut. Despite the surprise, you wanted this. Your expression softened under his gaze, and you felt your body relax under his touch.

"The way you're looking at me... Should I take that as a yes?" He asked, tilting his head to one side. "You want me here? You don't want me to go find your little friend, do you?"

You shook your head slowly and a soft, amused laugh filtered through his helmet, sending a shiver down your spine.

"You wanna give that thing to me?" He asked, gesturing with his head toward the massager. You lifted your hand and placed it in his, your body beginning to shake at the idea of what was about to happen. "That's my girl."

His words sent a shockwave down to your middle, causing a soft whine to escape from behind his hand. His girl. Remembering to keep you quiet, he pressed down on your mouth again, shaking his head.

"As much as I want to hear every little sound you're going to make," Din said, his voice sounding strained. "Can't have anyone else listening in, got that? You're mine tonight."

You nodded.

"Glad to see you can follow orders somewhere, at least," He joked, the laughter in his voice making you shiver.

With one hand he managed to remove your pants, lowering them to just below your knees, the cool air hitting you and making you shake. He took note of this and pressed the massage straight against your clit, keeping it there, but not turning it on. Frustration began to build as he teased you, running the material over the spot slowly and gently. Your brows drew together at this and you gave him another deadly look.

"Give me a break, I've been waiting for this for a long time," He said, sounding breathless as he looked you up and down. "You have more scars than I thought you would. Still, you're as perfect as I imagined."

With wide eyes you wiggled free from the hand that covered your mouth. "Are you saying you've thought about me like this?" You asked, your voice strained.

"Quiet," He commanded, shoving you back down into the mattress with his free hand. "I already told you, the others might be listening."

"Seriously?" You questioned, exasperated. "Did you think I wasn't gonna react to that?'

"I knew you would," He replied, gripping your jaw with his fingers. "I just wanted to distract you so I could do this."

You opened your mouth to respond, but were quickly silenced by his hand once more as he pressed the button on the massager, effectively turning it on. A hearty groan filled your throat as your head fell back, Din's hand keeping you in place. Your knees shook as he worked you over, circling the massager before pressing it against your clit again. Whines and moans were easily muffled by his hand.

Without thinking twice, you reached out and gripped his bicep, your fingertips digging into the soft flesh that hid beneath his shirt. He grunted at your touch, lowering his face closer to yours as you squirmed beneath him. "Eyes on me, yeah? Keep your eyes on me, Y/N."

With that, you reached up to touch the side of his helmet- a silent plea for him to remove it. You begged with your eyes, since you couldn't with your mouth, hoping he would give you what you wanted so you could look him in the eye. He hesitated, his movements slowing as you pressed your hand to his helmet. Sighing, he removed his hand from your mouth, instead placing it to your cheek. "I can't, you know that."

"Please," You blurted, all dignity vanishing from your body as you begged him to show his face. "You know me-"

The massager hit a rather sensitive spot, causing you to cry out and lurch upwards. Just as it began to leave your mouth, his hand was quick to silence you.

"You've gotta be more careful than that," He scolded, pressing it harder up against you. Your back arches off the bed, causing your chest to graze his. Sighing shakily, he kept the massager stationary, sending wave after wave of pleasure washing over you. You'd all but forgotten your desire to lock eyes with him, your climax on the horizon and taking up all priority in your brain.

"That's it," He encouraged, drawing out each word. "You're being so good for me."

Broken whimpers spilled past his hand, and he didn't stop them this time. Instead, he doubled down, maintaining the same position that was driving you closer and closer to the edge. It was within reach now, just a few seconds more and you'd be coming undone beneath him. Din could sense this somehow, his face mere inches from yours.

"I know, I know," He mewled, breathing hard behind his mask. "Be a good girl, now. Give me what I want."

His words were the tipping point, sending you flying over the edge. Your climax crashed through you, your head falling back against the mattress as several stifled moans filled the air. Din hummed as you finished, as if satisfied by his work. He never wavered, his helmet stationary, a sure sign that he watched your face the entire time. His hand abandoned your mouth and you gasped, gulping in air as you came down from your high. The buzzing ceased and your body fell limp, your muscles relaxing.

Din helped you redress yourself, taking his time and tracing his fingers over your exposed skin before it vanished beneath your clothes. "So that's where you went today," He laughed gently, turning the massager over in his hand. "I knew you weren't talking to locals. You've never been a good liar."

You groaned and rolled onto your side, facing away from him. Embarrassment flooded your body, the realization of what had just happened setting in. Despite the fact that he entered the room, saw you as you pleasured yourself, and still felt the desire to help you get off, you couldn't help feeling vulnerable.

"Y/N."

His voice sounded... Different. It wasn't metallic, it didn't sound muffled or altered in any way. It was organic, and soft, and hung in the air like gentle music to your ears. The realization hit you like a brick.

His helmet was off.

As you tried to turn back around, he was quick to stop you, moving you back onto your side as he laid beside you in the bed. His breath hit your neck, whispering past your ear like a soft breeze. The sensation made you flinch, drawing in a sharp breath as his arm wrapped around your middle from behind. He pulled you close, the center of your shoulders pressing into his warm chest.

"I hope you know I did that by choice," He mumbled, his lips grazing your skin. "I didn't embarrass you, did I?"

"No, no, it's not that," You said quickly, "I just... didn't think you'd ever want to do something like that. I thought it was against your creed. It took me off guard, I guess."

"It is," Din sighed, "But if I'm breaking the rules for anyone, it should be you."

"Are you still mad at me?" You asked, a hint of playfulness in your voice.

The quiet laugh that left his lips was enough to make anyone crumble at his feet. "I was never mad at you. I could tell you were getting... Frustrated, to put it mildly. I didn't blame you for being attracted to someone else. It was him I was mad at."

"You barely knew him," You replied.

"I know," Din agreed, leaning in close enough to kiss your jaw. "But he was looking at my girl."

[luniidae]

~ Little Dove ~

This is not a new chapter of

Of Gold and Blood, but I just wanted to write and draw some Luviaarlep to add some lore 🖤

Luvia is around 27 years old here, 10 years after chapter 11.

Once again, Raphael was out for business. Once again, Luvia would sneak in his chambers. 

It had become their little ritual. Sometimes, when the Devil was away, she paid a visit to his incubus.

She was going to lose herself in his arms and in his sheets, to find some warmth and forget the coldness with which the Master of the house treated her for a year now. She would have never imagined spending time with Haarlep, since she had hated herself through him for years after their first and unfortunate encounter. But paradoxically, he had been the only one able to bring her some comfort when Raphael started to act coldly towards her all of the sudden.

"Ah, I was wondering when you would come, little dove...", said Haarlep in a sweet voice. He was on the large four-poster bed, lying on his left side, his head resting on one of his hands. 

The incubus stared at the Dracanist as she approached. He always had this predatory glint in his eyes, like a wolf ready to pounce.

Luvia had gotten used to being nothing more than a lamb in the dynamic of their relationship... Or a dove, as he liked to call her.

A few minutes later, she had joined him on the bed, letting his hands caress his shoulders to slide the straps of her crimson nightie. But she seems absent this time.

"Hm? What is troubling you, pet?", The incubus asked, a semblance of concern in his voice.

Luvia seemed a bit taken aback by his question and looked immediately for the right words, the right answer.

"Nothing, I'm fine".

He raised an eyebrow, that was definitely not the right answer.

"Come on, Luv', are you trying to insult me? Even a blind man could see how preoccupied you look"

One of his hands reached her chin to lift her head.

"Tell me"

His velvet and usually playful voice was almost commanding, and his piercing eyes were locked on hers. But the young woman couldn't find a way to express her thoughts, as if the words were stuck in her throat.

"It is about him again?"

It sounded more like a rhetorical question. Of course it was about Raphael, but Luvia tried to deny it and turned her head to look away. She remained silent for a few seconds, frowning, her red eyes becoming a bit shiny.

"... He doesn't even look at me sometimes", she said sadly, "It's like I don't even exist. I would almost be tempted to say that I would rather he spoke to me badly than not at all. At least he wouldn't ignore me"

Surprisigly, Haarlep felt like a pang of irritation. He knew how the Cambion used to treat her now, and he had an idea about the reason behind such behavior. But he hadn't the time to answer anything when Luvia spoke again.

"I'm considering leaving the House of Hope"

His eyes widened, he wasn't expecting her to make such a decision. She has never left this place before.

"You... You want to leave?", he almost looked sad.

"No, but...", she seemed about to cry for a second, her voice was shaking and her eyes were becoming wet, "I feel so tired sometimes, you know... Tired of enduring his moods, his harsh words... When he deigns to speak to me, of course. It's like... It's like he suddenly hated me overnight and I don't even know why"

"Where would you go?"

"I don't know... Baldur's Gate, probably. Raphael used to talk about this place a lot"

She took a breath. She didn't want to leave, this House was her home and the idea of being far away from it and its residents was heartbreaking.

"I... I don't know what else to do", she was trying to keep her composure but she couldn't help herself but crying, "I tried to talk to him but it makes it worse, sometimes I wonder if he's not simply disgusted by me. And maybe he's right? Maybe I'm not enough, not good enough, or smart enough, or whatever enough, I don't know. Maybe he realized I wasn't as useful as he expected"

She spoke more and more quickly as she was losing her nerves.

"Hush now", he cupped her teary face with his both hands, staring at her intensely with a hint of... Tenderness? "You're so hard on yourself, my little dove. You are so much more than that, more than what you think... Don't let such a man make you think you're not enough or worthy. Actually, never let anyone make you feel this way, because you're just perfect the way you are"

Her eyes widened, unable to blink, a few silent tears were running along her cheeks.

"Moreover, you're a smart and a very beautiful creature. You would be surprised to know how many people you can manipulate thanks to this pretty little face of yours, my dear. With your charms and your eloquence, you could bring the entire world on its knees"

She sniffed, "How can you be so sure?"

"If you can tame devils, you can subdue anyone"

Luvia smiled shyly, flattered by Haarlep's encouragement. She didn't notice his allusion to him and Raphael though... She chuckled and wiped her tears away.

"Would you teach me? I mean, how to bring the world on its knees, as you say"

"Anything you want, dove"

[elenasalvatore94]

The docks - 3

Today is our first HOT chapter! Sit down everyone. https://www.tumblr.com/elenasalvatore94/764842302237704192/the-interview-part-2?source=share (previous one)

The Monaco night was alive with the hum of distant motors and the scent of saltwater in the air. Chris stood at the edge of the docks, her nerves buzzing as she watched the gentle sway of the yachts under the moonlight. She still couldn't believe she had agreed to this - meeting Franco Colapinto in a private corner of the marina, alone. It was reckless. It was dangerous. And yet, the thrill of it was impossible to ignore.Her phone vibrated in her hand.

**Franco:** *I'm here.*

She looked up just in time to see him emerge from the shadows, his tall frame moving with a confidence that set her pulse racing. Dressed casually in a fitted black shirt and jeans, he looked every bit the cocky, young driver she'd expected. But there was something else too - a rawness, a hunger in his eyes that told her tonight would be anything but ordinary.

"Chris," he greeted, his voice smooth as he closed the distance between them. "I wasn't sure you'd come."

"Neither was I," she admitted, her voice low, almost breathless.

Franco stepped closer, his gaze locking onto hers with that same intensity that had thrown her off balance during their interview. The sexual chemistry between them was thick, palpable in the air around them. She could feel it in every glance, in the way he stood just a little too close, and in the way her body reacted instinctively to his presence. "What changed your mind?" he asked, his tone teasing, though his eyes burned with desire.

Chris crossed her arms, trying to keep some semblance of composure. "Curiosity, I guess. You're not like the other drivers."

Franco smirked, his green eyes glinting in the soft light of the marina. "That's because I don't play by the rules. I don't believe in them."

Chris swallowed hard, feeling the heat between them intensify with every word. "That much is obvious."

They stood there for a moment, the silence between them filled with unspoken tension. Franco took another step closer, his scent - a mix of salt and musk - filling her senses. He was so close now that she could feel the warmth of his body, and her resolve was quickly slipping.

"Do you always break the rules?" she asked, her voice more daring than she intended.

Franco's eyes darkened. "Only when the reward is worth it."

Chris felt a shiver run down her spine, her breath catching in her throat. She was playing a dangerous game, but damn it, she wanted to see how far it would go.

"You're sure of yourself," she said, her tone teasing, though her body betrayed her as she shifted closer to him.

He smiled, that cocky, infuriating smile that had first disarmed her during the interview. "Confidence is half the battle, don't you think?"

Her lips parted, but she couldn't think of a comeback. Franco's gaze flicked down to her mouth, and the space between them suddenly felt suffocating in the best way possible."You don't have to pretend with me, Chris," he said, his voice low, rough around the edges. "I can see it in your eyes."

"See what?"

"That you want this. You want me."

Chris's breath hitched, her pulse thundering in her ears. She could deny it, she could try to hold onto her professionalism, but what would be the point? The attraction between them was undeniable, and the more she tried to fight it, the more it consumed her.

"Maybe I do," she whispered, her voice betraying the lust building inside her. "But I'm not making this easy for you."

Franco's eyes flared with challenge, and his hand moved to her waist, pulling her in just enough for their bodies to graze each other. Her heart raced, her skin electrified by the contact.

"I don't want easy," he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "I want you - exactly like this. The push and pull, the tension, the fire."

Chris could hardly breathe, every word sending a jolt of heat straight to her core. "Careful what you wish for."

He leaned in, his lips hovering just inches from hers. "I don't do careful."

The tease was unbearable, the closeness intoxicating. She wanted to kiss him, to close the distance and feel the full weight of his desire against her. But Franco wasn't about to make it that simple.

Instead, he brushed his lips lightly against her ear, his breath hot against her skin. "You drive me insane, you know that?"

Chris's body trembled at his words, her resolve crumbling. "You're not exactly easy to forget either."

Franco let out a low laugh, pulling back just enough to look into her eyes again. "Then stop trying to fight it."

Without another word, his mouth crashed into hers, capturing her in a kiss that was as fierce as the chemistry that had been building between them. Chris melted into him, her hands tangling in his hair as he deepened the kiss, his tongue teasing hers with a wicked, deliberate slowness.

Franco's hands roamed her body, pulling her closer until there was no space left between them. Every touch sent a spark of desire through her, and she responded with equal intensity, letting herself get lost in the heat of the moment.

It wasn't just a kiss - it was a battle for control, each of them pushing and pulling, teasing and taking. Chris had never felt anything like it before. The raw, undeniable connection between them was overwhelming, like a force of nature that couldn't be ignored.

When they finally pulled apart, both of them were breathless, their hearts racing."You don't play fair," Chris said, her voice husky as she struggled to catch her breath.

Franco grinned, brushing a thumb over her swollen lower lip. "I told you, I don't believe in playing by the rules."

Chris laughed softly, feeling her walls come down more and more with each passing second. "What now?"

Franco's gaze flicked down to her lips again, and he smirked. "Now? I take you somewhere we can break the rules."

Her heart skipped a beat. "And where's that?"

"Let me show you."

Without waiting for her reply, Franco took her hand, leading her toward one of the sleek yachts docked nearby. The air between them buzzed with excitement, the promise of what was to come hanging thick in the night.

Chris knew she was stepping into dangerous territory, but she didn't care anymore. The tension between them was electric, the desire undeniable. And tonight, for the first time in a long time, she was ready to let go.

Whatever happened next, she knew one thing for sure: Franco Colapinto was going to be one hell of a ride.

Let's go?

@livsturnioloo

[adhdnursegoat]

I'm genuinely curious what folks will think of this. I was very unsure when writing it. My eyes started to cross everytime I edited this, so I hope it is okay. If you find any inconsistencies, then please, help a southern gal, and let me know. I hope you have fun.

As always link to full story on ao3 at the bottom.

When you were little, momma said that when a boy tugs on a little girl’s pigtails and pokes at her, it usually means he likes her. It means that he does not have the words to say what he really means, that he likes you – that he has a crush on you – that he thinks you are pretty.

You also remember that was the first time you said something “bad” in front of your momma.

Oh, what did I say…?

“Why doesn’t he grow a pair and just tell her?”

You member your mother dying laughing, not even bothering to chide your young, sharp mind. Instead, she covered her smile with a hand, trying to hide the majority of her amusement as she looked at you with wide, almost incredulous eyes.

“Well, I suppose you’re right, babygirl…” She pinched your cheek and crinkled her nose up at you. “Don’t ever let a man treat you any less than a queen.”

“Nygma!”

And you will never forget that.

Your voice screeches through the office door before it even slams open, the door handle nearly puncturing the wall behind it. In the doorway, you stand, body tense, feet spread, ready to pounce, and a bouquet of flowers clutched tightly in a fist. Feet stomping, you march through the room and slap the lavender down on the desk. Through reddened, watery eyes, you glare at the man leaning back too casually in his chair, his smug face clear despite your blurred vision.

“What’s up?” His voice is rich with blatant feigned innocence, a lopsided grin pulling at the corners of his mouth. Edward Nygma always exudes that irritating air of superiority.

“You know damn well ‘what’s up!’” you snap, your voice shaking with anger. You gesture forcefully to the flowers. “The fuck is this?”

He doesn’t even flinch, his emerald-green eyes glinting with mischief as they drift lazily toward the purple plant. “It is lavender. A symbol of purity, grace, and calm.” He steeples his fingers, his lips quirking into a poorly contained smirk. “Ironic choice, don’t you think?”

The smirk. That damned smirk.

Heat floods your cheeks, your fists clenching tightly at your sides. It’s always like this with him—his verbal jabs, his riddles, his constant need to prove that he’s the smartest person in the room. Smarter than everyone. Smarter than you.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” The words burst out before you can stop them, your voice shaking with the force of your frustration.

But Edward doesn’t bat an eye. He leans back further in his chair, completely at ease, watching you unravel like you’re just another amusing puzzle. “So many things, my dear,” he purrs, “but I’m afraid we’d need a few hours to properly list and analyze them all.”

You want to scream, but instead, your rage is made into a joke as you tear a tissue from the box beside his computer, yanking it hard enough that the whole thing tumbles to the floor. Your movements are jerky and ungraceful as you scramble to pick up the tissues, slamming the box back onto the desk. It is all so ridiculous, but you don’t care. The tightness in your throat is unbearable, and your eyes are itching so badly that you can barely see straight.

As you blow your nose into the tissue, the sound is anything but elegant. Loud, obnoxious, a far cry from the calm and composed image you wish you could maintain around him. And then—of course—comes the sneezing. Violent, explosive sneezes that echo through the office like shouted expletives. One after the other, they wrack your body, and you can barely keep yourself upright.

When you think you’ve finally reached the end of this absurd display, you groan and pinch the bridge of your nose, trying to regain some semblance of composure. The pain behind your eyes throbs like a drumbeat, and you cut your gaze to Edward, who is, predictably, grinning at you like the smug bastard he is. His posture is relaxed, his head tilted ever so slightly as he watches your torment with undisguised glee.

“I thought you would’ve liked my gift, babe,” he drawls, his voice low and syrupy with false sweetness.

You can feel your blood pressure rising, the anger surging so violently that it feels like you might have an aneurysm. The pain in your head throbs in time with your growing irritation, and the audacity of his words is almost too much to bear.

“You know I’m allergic to lavender!” Your voice is hoarse and squeaky from the mucous clogging your throat, and you punctuate the statement with another round of sneezes, barely managing to stuff your nose into the tissue in time. You groan before growling low at him, “Why would you do this today of all days? You know the gala is tonight!”

Edward watches, unbothered, that insufferable grin still plastered on his face. There is not a single flicker of remorse in his eyes. He’s enjoying this—your discomfort, your rage, your attention. And why wouldn’t he? This is his game. Everything with Edward is a game.

With your free hand, you shove a finger in his direction, your words muffled and nasal as you shout, “You’re an asshole!”

That is when he finally laughs. It’s low and soft at first, but then it grows, filling the room with that rich, mocking sound. He’s practically doubling over, wiping an imaginary tear from his eye as he regards you with mock hurt and pity. “You wound me. Really. I’m simply trying to make your life more… interesting?”

You glare at him, another sneeze escaping before you can respond. The tissues are doing little to save you from the lavender-induced hell you’ve been thrown into, but you refuse to let him see you break. Not completely.

“Interesting?” you croak, still sniffling. “You tried to kill me with flowers!”

“Kill you? Oh, don’t be dramatic.” His laughter subsides into a smirk, and he leans back in his chair, hands behind his head. “Babe, if I wanted you dead, I assure you, I’d be far more creative than a bouquet of lavender.” His voice drops lower, dripping with playful menace. “This is merely foreplay.”

Your face flushes hotter, but this time, it’s not from the allergic reaction. You know he is pushing buttons on purpose, prodding at you just to see how far he can take things before you snap. It’s all part of his game, the endless mental tug-of-war he thrives on.

And despite yourself, despite the sneezing, the watery eyes, and the frustration burning in your chest—you feel the pull. That magnetic, infuriating pull that keeps you locked in this back-and-forth with him. It’s infuriating, maddening.

“Besides,” he drawls, his voice thick with amusement, those puckish green eyes narrowing with mischievous intent, “you’re hot when you’re mad.”

This.

This right here. This is the exact shit you’re talking about. His smugness, his unrelenting need to take something as simple and sweet as buying flowers, something flirtatious like calling you hot, and perverting it into a means to torment you. Instead of being genuine in his attraction, he turns it into a mind game while he watches you squirm.

Why can’t he just be normal?

If it weren’t for this bullshit, you would absolutely date him. He’s got a great job, a little power, and, honestly, he’s cute in that boyish way that makes you bite your lip. And intelligent—fuck, do you love a man with a big brain. The kind of intelligence that can both outwit and excite you, leaving you breathless in more ways than one.

But those toxic green eyes of his—they should be a warning. A signal. Everything you need to know about him wrapped up in one sharp, venomous look. Yet you can’t seem to look away. You struggle to maintain the appropriate amount of eye contact to hide your obvious staring, to keep the desire from slipping through your façade.

“Can’t you just buy me flowers and ask me on a date like a normal fucking human?” you grumble thickly, the words muffled by the remnants of your sneezing fit. It’s more of a plea than an actual complaint.

Edward tilts his head, and you watch as that thick red hair of his shifts with the motion. His lips purse thoughtfully, and he crinkles his nose as if he’s truly trying to wrap his mind around your sentiment. As if this simple idea—normalcy—is something foreign to him. “Where’s the fun in that?”

His tone is deceptively innocent, but the glint in his eyes says otherwise. There’s no innocence here. Only the gleeful manipulation he’s mastered so well. And somehow, that cocky confidence only makes you want him more. As much as it pisses you off, it ignites something in you. It always does.

 “You’re the fucking worst, Nygma.” You dig a card from the offending flowers – the note scrawled saying “what’s the most romantic fruit” – and flick it at his chest. He doesn’t even flinch. “I wouldn’t date you if you were the last man on Earth.”

“Well, I don’t have to take you out on a date. I’m just being polite.” His eyes trail down your form, lingering appreciatively on your breasts before tracing your hips. You clear your throat, both for his attention and the mucous collected in the back of your mouth. He flicks his eyes back to yours and he shrugs. “I can just eat you out right now if you like.”

Edward’s voice is smooth, unbothered, like he’s making the most casual offer in the world. Your stomach flips—whether it’s from anger or something else, you’re not sure. Your blood feels like it’s boiling beneath your skin, heart pounding in your chest. Edward’s insufferable grin makes your stomach flip in the worst—and best—way. You can’t believe the balls on this man, the sheer gall of him. You feel your mouth open to respond, to unleash the torrent of words building in your chest, but they falter as you meet his gaze. That damn smirk. That cocky, self-assured smirk that says he knows exactly how to get under your skin. He’s not even trying to hide it. He just lounges, looking so casual, so damn cocky, like he knows he’s already won. Your fists clench at your sides, nails digging into your palms. The worst part is, he’s right. He knows he’s won this round, just like he always does.

Edward Nygma always has the upper hand, and it drives you insane.

“I’m leaving,” you say, your voice trembling with barely contained fury. You push yourself away from his desk, needing to put distance between the two of you before you do something you’ll regret. Your hands are shaking, but you refuse to let him see how deeply he’s gotten to you.

“What storms out angry but will always come back?”

The words stop you dead in your tracks, heat flushing your skin.

You.

He means you. And you know it. The fact that he’s right only makes the frustration burn hotter in your chest, makes it even worse because—of course—he’s grinning behind you, so damn sure of himself, knowing full well his words will haunt you for the rest of the day.

What the hell is wrong with me?

You shove the door open hard, letting it slam behind you, the satisfying thud doing little to calm your racing pulse. But out in the hallway, your thoughts are a chaotic mess. Edward is insufferable, and yet he has this uncanny way of slipping into your day—your life—whether you like it or not. You don’t even work in the same department! Yet, here you are.

And, somehow, he is always there.

Click here for full length work: Power Play

Original pinterest picture credit: summer howard

[thelizaxevans]

"What?" She breathed, feeling her heart lodge itself in her throat and ice moving through her veins because there was a lot going on and that was a vague sentence and... "Wh...What was a mistake?" Liza swallowed hard, trying to just keep some semblance on composure- something she'd been trying to do for the last twenty-four hours really. But try as she might, Liza couldn't stop the way her tears finally overflowed and she shook her head, letting out a heavy breath as she took a step closer to him.

"Wes, it's only been one day..." She let out her own sad, incredulous little laugh that honestly came out as more of a sob than anything else and swallowed again. "You can still be here for me. I-I want you to be, I...--" Liza trailed off, her lower lip wobbling as more tears fell down her face. "I was pregnant and I didn't even know it. A-And now I can't work a..and I can barely even take care of my baby without help but I'm trying. And then when I found this out all I could think of was....was how much we've wanted this. And trying really hard t-to not feel guilty as hell that I didn't even know I was pregnant."

Liza's face started to crumple as she said it aloud, her lower lip wobbling as she frowned but even with tears on her face she didn't look away from him, needing to explain herself. "S..So I'm sorry that I kept it from you f..for one day. I just..I knew it would wreck you. Because I know you want this a-as much as I do. But you've been working so hard at school so far and I didn't want to ruin it. I-I felt like I was doing the right thing.."

So much of Wes' life seemed like nothing but heartache and the one time he allowed himself to do something for himself like go to school, something like this happened and it was kept from him despite promises and how much hurt the woman he loved was going through. "This was a mistake. I knew it was a mistake." Wes told her quietly, feeling like he was right about his worries about school and that this proved he was a jinx or something. He knew it was bad timing to go and that there was no way he could be everything he needed to be for Liza and Elise if he went. This seemed to be proving himself right. And there was a twinge of guilt inside of him for feeling like this instead of grieving what could've been this baby, but that was only because he was too afraid to let himself feel that right now. He was afraid of more grief and more hurt.

"Um... that doesn't matter right now." Wes swallowed hard as he desperately tried to compartmentalize this information because he was afraid to feel it. "I, uh... I could've been there for you. We could've... I- Liza, I don't... I don't know what to say. What to feel. What do I..." Wes let out a humorless laugh as his eyes glossed over with tears and he couldn't bring himself to look at her because he didn't want her to see him cry. "I don't know what to say."

@thelizaxlevin

[moonlight-prose]

Hey would you mind doing something for Dave York with the prompt “you were always more than just a one night” from prompt list 1. Please and thank you 🙏 😊

𝐀𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧

𝐀/𝐍: Hello darling!! I'm so sorry for this being so late. It sat in my wips for a while and I hope you like what I came up with!

𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐩𝐭 𝐋𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐎𝐧𝐞

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: He finally reveals the truth after so long.

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 1k

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: Dave York x Reader

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: Angst, minor amount of cussing.

It was always more. The give and take between you and him. The altruistic motives that lead you to a crashing end; that turned your world into this. A mess of emotions that even you couldn’t find your way out of. But then he was there. Standing outside and holding that stupid box that you had gifted to him months before. A symbol of the relationship, is what you so stupidly called it.

And yet...you couldn’t stop the urge to meet him out there in the cover of night. Couldn’t stop how your heart twisted violently in your chest at the memory of him and you. Friends. It’s what he wanted and nothing else. Simply two people who were in close proximity to one another day in and day out. After all, how was supposed to fall in love again after just recently getting divorced.

You accepted it as just that and nothing more, but then that night happened. A time you’d rather forget, except it still hung around in the very crevices of your mind. Because how could you simply let go of the memories that haunted you. How he felt, encompassing you in his heat. The sounds he made, combing with yours until you couldn’t see past him. See past the euphoria that flooded your veins for what felt like hours.

Shutting the door, you reminded yourself to stand with reverence. To keep your gaze on anything but him, because you couldn’t handle another second of heartbreak. Couldn’t deal with the pain that came afterwards. But you made that single mistake of gazing at him, of seeing the dark lines under his eyes as he clutched onto that box like it was his lifeline. Or some version of it. He’d argue that you were his lifeline in the end of it all. The one thing he clung to in order to feel a semblance of himself.

“What do you want?” you asked, trying to focus on what he said to make you feel this small. To feel as if he’d ripped out your heart.

“I came to apologize.”

You scoffed. “It’s a little late for that, don't you think.”

“I know what I said was shitty. I didn’t mean any of it.”

Didn’t mean any of it.

Even you knew that was far from the actual truth. He had meant it. Spoken each word with a seriousness you’d never seen him have before. He said it so easily. As if he was doing nothing but reading off orders for you to carry out. No pain in his eyes; nothing but a cold emptiness that he only used to regard people he loathed with.

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not lying!” he shouted.

“Yes you are!” Digging your nails into your palms, you forced yourself to gain some composure. “You were perfectly clear the night you asked me to leave Dave. Don’t pretend you didn’t mean those words.”

Get out of there. Your brain was screaming at you to leave, to get back in your house and lock the door, but you couldn’t move. Because deep down, beneath the layers of hate, of pain, you still cared for the man. And that was your fatal flaw in all of this. You had fallen in love.

“You were always more than just a one night stand.” He whispered the words, his tone bordering on desperate, and that’s when you realized how much your heart would still belong to him. How it would always belong to him.

“You don’t have to do this. Make me feel better. I’m fine.” A fucking lie and even he could tell. Because in actuality you weren’t fine. You were breaking, on the verge of shattering, and even he could see it. Could look past the armor you were insistent on wearing; to what? To protect yourself?

He stuck the box in your direction, a soft open it, falling past his lips. His eyes never left yours, because he needed to see your reaction. Needed to see the moment you realized everything you believed to be a lie was in fact the truth. You unlatched it, slowly opening it; wary of something being inside that wasn’t supposed to be there. Only to nearly drop it onto the sidewalk.

“I said those words to protect myself.” He watched your eyes fly back to his face, the disbelief clear in your eyes. “Because I didn’t know how to handle being around the person I love.”

“This is a ring Dave.”

“Yes. It is.”

Nestled within the confines of the box, lay a small diamond atop a black cushion. A small piece of jewelry that signified how he truly felt. How he’d always feel, and you began to understand why he wanted to fight against the attraction. Why he wanted to ignore the way the affection between the two of you was so prominent. It had always been there, underneath the surface but just out of reach, and now it stared you in the face.

You took it out carefully, clutching the box to your chest. “What does this mean?”

“It means I want to marry you.” He smiled, taking it from your fingers gently. “If you’ll still have me.”

The memories of that night flooded your mind once more. The way he held you, as if you would break if he gripped you too hard. How he kissed you as if he had dreamed of doing it for years. Just as you had. And through it all. Through the passion, you saw the glaring truth.

“You love me…” you breathed out.

He nodded. “I always have.”

Your answer was said so quietly you weren’t sure he heard you, but to him it sounded like you screamed it from the top of your lungs. A soft yes that sent his heart into overdrive, because he’d finally done it. Accepted the love he realized was always in front of him; just as you had.

𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬:

@pamguini @blondekel77 @the-purity-pen @princess-and-pedro @phoenixhalliwell @mxsamwilson @justanotherblonde23 @autumnleaves1991-blog @greeneyedblondie44 @amelia-song-pond @ladylothlorien @littlebopper96

[godkilller]

GIN KNEW WHAT A BREAK IN COMPOSURE LOOKED LIKE, he knew how to do his best to avoid it like the plague itself, to never show it, to never break like that. So he mourned, momentarily, Shinji's loss -- and looked downward, observing the ground as though to offer some semblance of privacy for the Fifth Division captain to draw himself back together again. Akin to the way eyes averted respectfully during a wardrobe malfunction.

Gin relented in his seething, matching the diminished aura of the broken man mirroring him. Shoulders slumped, the lopsidedness of his empty right sleeve snagged by the Kido around him made for a ragged appearance.

❝ If you blame 'n hate yourself so much for somethin' that wasn't even your fault, why's it so hard to comprehend, to recognize, that somebody else's blamin' themselves for somethin' that was entirely their fault right in front of ya? ❞

He fastened his jaw, keeping still otherwise -- even as the bindings left his body and freed him to move once more. Gin didn't even bother trying to stand up, not yet. He'd stay down for a little while longer. There was a disconnect from himself when Shinji outright asked him to elaborate, something Gin didn't plan on doing ---- until the other broke down and opened up like that just now. Now? Gin contemplated, chewing on all the unspoken words clumped together in his throat after a few decades of swallowing them down.

❝ -- I never said I wanted anybody to give me a chance. I ain't stupid. ❞ Why the fuck would he think he deserved one? Idiotic, that. Regardless, Gin disconnected. A defense mechanism, how easily he felt unattached to himself. Like issuing a verbal report, his mouth opened.

❝ ... Kyoka Suigetsu's ability is Complete Hypnosis, it allows him to control all of your senses, he can alter anythin' and you'll believe it. There ain't any trick to it that makes it obvious or gives ya a way to power through it, there's no tell. If he's released it once in front of ya, you're trapped. No way 'round it. Except for ... -- and... ❞

A pause, then Gin unclenched his fingers. He opened his mouth to continue, yet stopped and closed it shut again. Instead, Gin shook his head, a mess of silver strands falling into his face, his eyes.

❝ -- ... it doesn't even matter, that one single thing. I waited for th' only openin' I got. For a while, for decades, I was too weak -- a kid, he coulda easily stomped me into dust. It wouldn't've worked and he knew. Lieutenant ---- our reiatsu wasn't equal enough, he would've negated my attempt like he did Soifon's. By the time I was cap'n things shifted, I felt it -- like he knew, he knew to step back and have me follow, he knew to not offer the back of his neck to me unless he was in control. Even eventually made a Kido to protect it, always so prepared. He tasked me 'n Tousen-san with conquerin' Hueco Mundo 'round then, alongside the experiments with the Hollow hybrid ---- it was difficult to get him alone, those times were busy, double-life runnin' around the Third on zero sleep after beatin' some Vasto Lorde into submission wasn't exactly th' best time to try and jump Aizen Sousuke. By th' time we hit Las Noches after betrayin' Soul Society -- he pulled away from me entirely, started goin' off in secret, obscurin' his tracks so I couldn't follow. I'd have to eavesdrop on him, but he knew what I was tryin' to do from the start. He was jus' ---- ❞

I WAS CURIOUS TO SEE HOW YOU'D DO IT. BUT I'M AFRAID I'M DISAPPOINTED, GIN. IF YOU THINK THIS IS ENOUGH TO KILL ME --

❝ -- usin' me, jus' like what he did with everybody else. He put the Hogyoku in his chest in secret, found some way to hide that from me, made sure I didn't know till it was too late 'n I couldn't jus' let him obliterate Karakura Town off th' map. Kill those kids for no reason ---- ❞

Another pause, weight immense, and Gin spoke quieter. Kept his eyes shut, as though to give this openness its own privacy, as though not perceiving the ground and his folded legs beneath him made the moment of truthfulness less real to him. Less vulnerable.

❝ ... I've killed enough for 'no reason' -- I killed Hiyori for no reason. She wouldn't've been able to do anythin' against him, I knew. But I lost myself, standin' at his side as long as I have -- you start to understand the different kinds of silences, the nonverbal commands, the expectations. The way his left index finger twitches a breath's worth when he wants me to cut somebody down ---- ... I moved on my own, but I wasn't thinkin'. I've lost track of how many times I've -- ... all for no fuckin' reason. I -- ❞

Gin stopped himself, a scrunching of his nose as though soured by his own words, annoyed at himself, irked at the utter uselessness of him mentioning that. Completely irrelevant, even if Shinji had asked for him to elaborate.

❝ ... -- but none of that matters -- 'cause I'm sorry. I'm sorry for takin' her from you. And that's what I did -- me, I did that. So if you're gonna blame anybody, gettin' mad at yourself ain't the ticket here -- y'oughtta blame me. ❞

          Shinji could hate Gin, he remembers suddenly and without warning, save for a bitterness that swells on his tongue as he matches the other's glare. He could loathe him in this moment, the way he pitifully resists restraints and gravity and disability and honesty.

          Gin seems to be fighting tooth and nail trying to get Shinji to play his stupid little suicide game, and he's had it over his head with being manipulated.

          ❝ You think I'm fine?! ❞

          His voice is as gentle as a knife across the eye.

          ❝ I will never be fine. Ya don't know anythin' about me, but, hello! I'm that person! I'm the who thinks that I should'a died, that I should'a been th' only one punished. Ya don't know the person who loathes me more than anyone else but has to live with me every fuckin' day of my life────surprise, Gin, it's me! ❞

          Well. That wasn't on the script.

          And now, with his guts just spilled out all over the ground between them, Shinji looking vaguely horrified with himself for a blink-and-you-miss-it moment, every muscle snarled up like a compressed spring and the light in his eyes guttered out...he has this energy about him not unlike a loaded gun, and it spikes against Gin's aura of lashing out.

          But rather than giving the younger man ammo...Hōrin and that palpable tension both fizzle out like dying embers, freeing Gin from their oppression.

          ❝ ...What's it all about, then? ❞ Shinji gestures to him, prompting. ❝ Ya said ya had yer reasons. Ya just want someone to give ya a chance. Well...here it is. ❞