#normally he's a gentle touch and is very careful with his clients

[deluxewhump]

Can we get some Carlo and Max today? 😍

A Carlo and Max request in the year of our lord 2024! I had kind of a long day and this is just a snippet that came to me :) Early days (but also up to date with my revisions)

Desiderata

When Max was home, Carlo found himself wanting more and more to be near to him. At first he was afraid Max Svenson was going to reveal some dark nature or intention, some other reason he was willing to pay all that money for him. He even convinced himself late one night that the phone conversation he overheard between Max and Stella Abend was fake, and that Max knew he was listening. But that had been one of those first several nights, when he wasn’t sure of anything. They had been long, and lonely.

Now he was glad to hear Max’s truck in the driveway. He found he wanted to be in the same room with him. Max wasn’t big on television, but he spent a few hours every evening in his study on the computer. Carlo had no excuse to follow him there, but he was welcomed warmly enough that he did not feel uneasy staying, or coming back night after night to seek his company until it became something of a routine. Max gave him books and electronics and a blanket to curl up in an armchair with, though he had not asked for these things. He would never ask, but he was happy once he had them, like a stray cat given a bed and a meal.

It occurred to him that comforts were something that could have stipulations, that could be taken away once given, though Max did not seem in the loop about this. He did not seem in the loop about anything to do with pets and their masters, actually. Carlo knew this was actually normal, not pet ownership. Erik had said as much. This was how it was for the majority of people, just not in any circles he’d ever been exposed to. That he would end up in the care of someone like this, someone so uninitiated, would have seemed a near impossibility to him until very recently.

He liked it when Max would talk on the phone on these evenings. Sometimes it was a more formal call to his company director, or a client. From those Carlo learned in bits and pieces about what Max did for work, and how he conducted himself there. He could not help but compare and contrast to Erik, who Carlo had observed for many years in his role as co-CEO of O&H Logistics. Other times, Max would have a casual call with one of his friends, or his mother, or Stella Abend again, though they didn’t talk about him when he was in the room. Knowing these were conversations he was allowed to overhear, Carlo didn’t feel as guilty as when he’d eavesdropped.

He listened carefully to every intonation Max would make on these calls, distracted by the paperback or electronic gifts Max had given him or drowsily watching the rain paint the windowpanes of the solitary old house. He learned every detail of Max’s voice, every nuance of his vocabulary, his laugh and why he had laughed. He learned about his likes and dislikes, his opinion on local politics since one of his friends was running for local office, things he was planning with a friend next month and when their other friend’s birthday was. It was like getting to know him without the painful ordeal of holding up his end of the conversation— always afraid of saying the wrong thing, revealing too much or too little, or behaving in some way Max did not want. It was safe like this. Easy. Like observing a character in a book, or from the barrier of a screen. In this way, Max’s voice grew familiar to him, and then soothing.

The next time Max spoke to him directly, Carlo noticed the uniqueness of the tone he took with him. It was both gentle and unassuming, reassuring and yet almost unsure of himself. He was struck by the thought that he could read these subtleties in his new master now, after spending more time near him.

“You can stay,” Max said, meaning the armchair Carlo had fallen asleep in. Max had touched his knee to wake him as he passed by, letting him know he was headed off to bed. “You’re good,” he said as Carlo blinked up at him. “I just didn’t want you to wake up alone.”

It was the first time he thought he might grow to love someone other than the man who’d sold him.

[truly-morgan]

Kinktober 2023 Day 30: [Free Use] | ̷O̷v̷e̷r̷s̷t̷i̷m̷u̷l̷a̷t̷i̷o̷n̷ | ̷S̷o̷u̷n̷d̷i̷n̷g̷

EkuMobRei 1933 Mob Psycho 100

One of those special days where Reigen is free to use all day by his boyfriends, wherever they are.

__________________________________

It’s one of these days where Reigen is being bothered, teased and touched by his boyfriends all day. There’s nearly no time to catch a break.

But it’s okay, because Reigen is the one to suggest those days.

Days where he wears a specific necklace. Short enough that it could nearly be a choker, but loose enough that it can still easily be hidden under his suit. The important part is how Ekubo and Mob both immediately notice it in the morning.

Those mornings he slowly wakes up to them pampering him, hands all over his body and touching him as much as possible. Sometimes it is a bit hard to eat properly when Mob is on his knee before him, giving the man a blowjob under the table as if that was the tastiest of breakfast.

Ekubo quite likes simply teasing him, whispering into his ear about all the things they might do to him throughout the day. Leaving ghost of touches over his skin, teasing every sensitive part of his body, both knowing the map of his body like the back of their hand.

He tried picking days where he knew Mob wouldn't have any classes at college. It was easy to schedule with work, seeing how the young man had decided to still help him out. Since he had picked a local college it was easier than from another city.

So he could have Mob at work all day, to let him do whatever pleased him most.

And gropping him on the train when on the way to the office seemed to be a thing he quite liked to do. There was a thrill about having to be sneaky, often preferring using his own hands than psychic powers because it was that much more fun.

Ekubo on the other hand wasn’t as careful, not that he needed to anyway. He was invisible to most of the population. He quite like seeing Reigen squirm and try to act as natural as possible even under his little sweet torture. Maybe later he would find a body to possess so he could do even more.

They always get to the office a little bit early, where Mob decides he cannot wait anymore and bends him over the desk. Still early in the morning the young man was still rather gentle and nice. It’s a nice taste to what he will have later on, knowing he would get a rougher Mob later on.

They open a little late that morning, after Mob decided to be a bit more teasing than usual.

Then the days starts, everything going mostly back to normal. For now.

Mob and Ekubo keeps on touching him every chance they get, groping him shamelessly when no one was around. If a client was there Mob would be more discreet, now using his powers to tease his shisho. He knew the man quite like them wrapping all over his body and teasing all the sensitive parts.

Although he also quite liked watching as Ekubo was the one teasing Reigen, outside of anyone else’s view but theirs. Hands phasing through clothes, he could easily play with his sensitive nipples without anyone knowing. 

“I am just feeling a little hot right now” Reigen dismissed when a client pointed out how red he looked. It was already hard to not let his reaction show too much on his face, but he couldn’t stop his body reaction. A red face, hard nipple who now kept rubbing against his dress shirt (he will keep his suit jacket on all day apparently) and slacks that now felt too tight.

When their lunch break came by he barely had time to eat his whole lunch before Mob was on him. The young man had eaten a bit earlier than usual at his desk and was very free now. He was having his dessert, pounding into Reigen to his heart content, enjoying the way he moaned sweetly for him now.

Be damned anyone walking by, they could say it was an exorcism.

After his break he still felt a bit weak on his leg, after Mob made him cum twice (which he was now task with cleaning the couch). Reigen was rather thankful that his next appointment was on a videocall. A suggestion from Mob, for people who live farther away but still wanted his help. Wasn’t the most used option, bit still extended his reach a little more.

Ekubo decided that he would keep on making his life harder. When he had seen the spirit suddenly appear between his legs he had expected him to do something that would make him react strongly.

Instead he phased through his clothes again, taking the man’s softened cock into him. It felt strange, to have such warmth around him, slowly and softly pulsating around his cock. Nothing to get him over the edge quickly, but still very much pleasant.

This had Reigen growing hard again in his now damp underwear, trying to make it less bad by opening his pants quietly. Ekubo cockwarming him like this was always more than pleasant, an interesting sight too really. The ghost sure seemed really please with the reaction he could get out of him.

This went on until beyond his video call was over, when he felt so close to coming. He whined when Ekubo just let go of him like this when he was so close. Without much explanation he got out of the office, although both Mob and Reigen had a good idea of where he had gone to.

Mob did decide to take pity on him, making some place under the desk for himself, finishing Ekubo’s job. Thankfully they had no one else scheduled to come in today, aside from possible walk-in. Yet it didn’t make Reigen’s job any less harder to focus on, when he needed to do paperwork and notes everything needed for the new job he landed.

He couldn’t help put grabbed onto Mob’s hair when he finally came, keeping him in place. Not that the young man would have really tried to pull aay himself anyway. When he was done he still decided to stay between his legs, head simply resting against Reigen's thigh. 

He seemed to be enjoying himself quite a lot, simply stuck in the cramped space under his desk, leaning his weight on him. He eventually had to get up when his powers sensed clients coming to the door of their office. 

He went back to simply working on some school work on his own laptop, simply using his powers to keep touching Reigen. There was something he just liked about being free to touch him all over like this, something comforting. That was all he could really do while client were there. He didn’t want to risk them seeing something that could bring bad word to their office.

When Ekubo came back it was near closing time, although it felt like they would be closing a little bit earlier than usual, seeing how clam it was. The spirit didn’t even ask before locking the door behind himself, which did caught Reigen’s attention.

The man simply watched him come back closer to him, pushing aside what head been working on to leaning on the side of the desk. “Why don’t you use your pretty mouth for me~” Ekubo cooed, a hand cupping under the man’s jaw. His ghost body didn’t have much nerves, so he couldn’t get as much physical enjoyment out of this. Good thing he had his trusty security guard, the man ready to just pass out and sleep in the back of his own mind while he let’s Ekubo do whatever.

Reigen didn’t even argue with him, only smirking a little as he open Ekubo’s pants, skilled hand working on his length already. It wasn’t too hard to get the man to full mast, making Reigen wonder if it was because Ekubo was the one really excited to finally feel something properly or if the body was pent up.

Probably both.

He got to work pretty easily and quickly, taking Ekubo into his mouth and down his throat with no difficulties. He had gotten truly skilled at this, taking him in with one smooth slide. He had been a bit sad that until now neither of them made him suck them like this. He quite enjoyed it actually.

Although he wasn’t against them wrapped around him either.

Mob had started to try and close shop so they could go home as quickly as possible. Although it was rather hard to do when he was so distracted by both of the man. It made for quite the show, Reigen always looked so go when he was the one on his knee sucking either of them.

Ekubo’s long fingers tangled themselves through pale locks, holding onto the conman. He decided it was his turn to set a pace, gently fucking his mouth at first, although the rhythm quickly grew.

The spirit threw his head back a little as he came, feeling Reigen’s throat work around him as he drank everything he was giving him. He looked so happy, to finally be given what he wanted too.

“Let’s close earlier today” Reigen managed to say when he pulled away, voice sounding slightly hoars.

Neither of his boyfriend disagreed, only speeding up picking everything they needed.

“Of course” they replied together. They couldn’t wait to get even more time to wreck their lover, with no one to stop them and no reason to hold back.

The day wasn’t over yet and Reigen still had his necklace on.

[promiscxous]

@casketcat asked:

“Koui….” name whispered huskily in his ear, “come here. Move your leg.” Despite having asked— the vampire didn’t wait for his boyfriend to comply before he shifted the other’s leg himself. Now that his leg was out of the way, Vincent dropped to the floor as his hands wrapped around Koui’s waist to yank him closer and press a kiss to his thigh. Leave it to the vampire to be settled between the others legs on the floor in front of him like he was worshipping Koui. The kisses turned to gentle nips, fangs grazing skin as Vincent panted against the other in clear excitement. Carefully, his fangs pierced his boyfriends thigh. The bite was later soothed by a languid lick, and after his appetizer… Vincent decided to get to the main course. “Koui. I’m going to touch you now, okay?” he warned and paused for a moment before shifting to sit up slightly. He was always one to be so attentive… to take such good care in making sure his partners were comfortable. One hand remained around Koui’s waist, but the other now moved to begin to stroke the other’s cock. Vincent glanced up at Koui’s face with nothing but absolute adoration in his eyes as his hand continued to please him. The vampire gave him a fangy grin, movements remaining intentionally slow. “If you want more, ask politely, Koui..”

♡ — Oh, the way Vincent whispered his name sent shivers down his spine, leaving him absolutely captivated with the way he was taking control of the situation — not even waiting for the blonde to do as he asks and instead drags him across the mattress, causing silk sheets to ruffle underneath him slightly. The small gasp that had escaped his lips during said action only proved to show how he hadn't been expecting such a thing, but he certainly wasn't complaining, especially not when he felt the other press a kiss to his inner thigh, only causing the shorter to press his lips together rather firmly. It was quite obvious that he was trying his best not to make so much as a single sound, oh... he was far too eager to watch what else was going to unfold.

♡ — Uranian irises hone in on the way Vincent settles himself between Koui's legs, mouth opening ever so slightly as if he were going to speak, but the words never manage to be spoken once he feels his boyfriend's kisses slowly turn into gentle nips and then a very clear piercing sensation from a pair of sharp fangs — earning a rather loud and startled yelp from the other, hand quickly coming to cover his own mouth, as if embarrassed by such a thing. "S... Shit." Lips trembled behind the palm of his hand, gaze not once drifting away from Vincent's, he couldn't help the overwhelming feeling to outright pounce on the taller man in this very moment... but he refrained from such a thing — after all, he was going out of his way to worship him. Something that none of his clients ever did. Now if only he could stop the throbbing in his chest that came with the sensation of being bitten. The lick to his inner thigh didn't help matters either.

♡ — "O... Okay. I... I'll try not to... immediately pounce on you. Y... You know, for your... for your own sake." His voice hitches in his throat when speaking, trying his best to retain that smug and playful nature he normally possesses, but it was clear from the his voice trembled that he was struggling. Free hand instinctively grabs onto the hand Vincent placed around his waist, fingers lacing into the free spaces in between. The way his hand moved so painfully slow over his cock made the blonde whine out rather loudly, eyes closing tightly as he tried to focus on the movement, doing anything he could for some kind of further friction — he even began to slowly rock his hips upward into the other's hand, something that'd never done before in all his years of being a sex worker... it was rather humiliating if he were to say so, but that only pushed him further.

♡ — "V... Vinny please," he pleads softly to the other, finally opening his eyes once more, purple heart-shaped pupils seemingly growing in size as he'd plead, "I... I want more Vinny. Please? Please... I need more." He continued to rock his hips upward, desperate for the other to begin moving his hand faster like he had asked. Oh god, he needed more contact. He needed sooo much more contact. He wasn't used to being teased so painfully slow, at least not in this sense of the way. None of his clients ever took the time to touch his cock or even attempt to get him off, instead all they wanted was to fuck him however they wanted, no strings attached — and that was something he was fine with, at least until he'd found himself being treated worse and worse by the newer clients he'd gained. Thus why Vincent had caught him so off guard with his actions. With the way he treated him with so much love and affection. It was almost too much for the blonde honestly, he wasn't used to being treated so sweetly, hence why he was struggling so badly now. "A... Ah! Vinny, please! I... I can't... I can't take this." His voice sounds so utterly pathetic right now, almost as if he were on the brink of tears.

♡ — There's frustration built up inside of him due to the situation unfolding before him, both because he was treading in unfamiliar territory with someone he called his lover and because of the fact he was used to having control over the other, at least to some degree — though the frustration isn't bad, instead it's actually somewhat arousing. But alas, Koui has had enough of the long and agonizing teasing that Vincent had been doing. It was his turn now. Thus why he clamps his legs shut against the red-head's arm, releasing the hand he was once holding and pushing himself up into a sitting position — and it only takes him a moment to knock the other completely onto the floor so he was laid flat on his back, allowing the blonde to straddle his lap with ease. "I... I'm sorry, Vinny, but I can't..." he let's out a breathy response, a rather lustful smile clear on his face, "I can't help myself. I need more of you... right now~."

♡ — With his left hand, he takes hold of Vincent's cock before carefully pushing it's length inside of himself until it was snug in place (earning a rather vocal moan), meanwhile his right hand took hold of his own cock — the look on his face was being a mixture of both love and lust. Though, instead of simply beginning to ride the vampire, he leans down just close enough to breathe a heated breath against the other's neck... before biting down hard enough to draw blood with his own fangs — hips slowly beginning to rock against the other's. "Ahaha, you're the only person I'd ever allow to touch me like that~. Just like you're the only person I'd ever allow to see me in such a desperate state of being... so I hope you enjoy it, my dear~." I love you.

[ratsoh-writes]

Helios (outerswap sans): Most of the time he is very cheerful, friendly and competitive but he's also incredibly cautious. Helios isn’t the most playful and takes his jobs very seriously. When he’s pushed too far, he has a rather fiery explosive temper. While he’s normally rough with those around him, he has a gentle side that only seems to come out for his little sister and any small kids. He’s not the most flirtatious monster and doesn’t have any interest in relationships at the moment.

For work, he’s a professional fighter! He’s won plenty of magical combat competitions and also knows several physical fighting styles. Unfortunately he doesn’t have the money to do this full time, so on the side he works in the mines of the underground’s when it’s off season for the fights. He loads the mine carts and is used to get into tight areas cause of his small size.

Artemis (outerswap papyrus): Artemis is a curious and down to earth character. She has a strong sense of fairness and compassion that no one really seems to know where it came from. She’s touch and affection starved and very friendly to every one around her despite being anxious. She’s slowly recovering from near death due to her disease and has a lot of side effects from it, making her tire out pretty easily. She’s a people pleaser and wants to explore the world around her. Her curiosity usually overrides her anxiety but it also makes her agree easily to things that can get her in trouble. She can be too trusting.

She gets a disability fund from the government which covers her healthcare and some other stuff, but to help her brother with the bills she breeds and sells snails on the side. The apartment building they live in has a small greenhouse that their landlord generously lets them use as long as they keep it clean. She's also currently trying to get her own variety of pet snails recognized as an official breed.

Mango (birdswap sans): Mango is friendly, bubbly, determined and a real organized monster. She likes to get things done and loves a schedule. She’s simply adorable and has this sort of small animal energy that has others cooing over her. You can look but you can't touch! She's not very cuddly with strangers.

She’s a Zumba instructor! She’s relatively new and works at a local Gym every day of the week except Sundays and Wednesdays. Her class is real popular because of her energy and cheer. Also her music playlists are awesome!

Papaya (birdswap papyrus): Papaya is a sarcastic and witty monster who’s easily flustered. He’s goofy and friendly and seems to be well liked by every one he meets. He’s also a sea of strange questions, and it doesn’t help that he look’s perpetually sleepy. He has major stoner energy despite never smoking before. He can be rather naïve when it comes to making new friends and likes to see the best in people before making judgement.

Papaya is a massage therapist! He works at a spa and mostly has human clients but does monsters as well! He's especially popular with the older crowd and famine monsters for his gentle touch and his calm demeanor in the face of grumpy people. Grandmas love him.

Roost (birdfell sans): Roost is loyal, affectionate, caring, flirtatious, teasing, and dumb as a rock. He is the perfect definition of a himbo lol. However he isn’t hyper (most of the time) and instead of golden retriever energy, he’s described as having more lazy Rottweiler energy. Roost is a possessive fellow and is quick to claim what’s “his” whether that’s friends or things, or even dates lol. His impulsiveness is often mistaken for confidence.

For work, he’s a florist! Roost is surprisingly enthusiastic about flowers, the language behind them, and making beautiful arrangements. He has a good eye for matching colors and a green thumb when it comes to growing his babies. His florist shop is on the land his sister owns. His employees consist of a rotation of people who also work on his sisters vineyard.

Harpy (birdfell Papyrus): Harpy is sharp, serious, and very to the point. She’s an organized lady and knows what she wants in life. She’s extremely protective of and loyal to her friends and workers and is passionate about her pleasures in life. She takes no sh*t and is very brave in the face of any trial. Harpy is more of a straightforward person and doesn't like hiding her intentions. You can count on her to express her opinion without any pushing.

For work, she owns a large vineyard in the mountains as well as a big chunk of land where she’s the landlord to some other farmers and businesses. Her wine is considered one of the finest of ebotts and her grapes are fought over by other brewers. She takes her job very seriously and expects a lot out of her employees, but with lots of responsibility comes high rewards.

Alden (draketale sans): Al is a very intelligent monster with a tendency to daydream. He’s an artist at heart and very passionate, but tires easily on his projects making him flighty and unpredictable when it comes to plans and favors. He’s got a mischievous side and likes pulling little pranks on his friends. He can act like a bit of a diva, but is quick to apologize when he's told he's being rude.

He is a professor at ebotts university in the art department! He teaches the sculpting class. He’s also a freelance artist on the side. Al specializes in making life sized figures and scenes out of stone, marble, crystal and metal. Most of his commissions go to decorate fancy government buildings.

Ollivander (draketale papyrus): Ollie is a true collector. He embraces his hoarding nature from his dragon ancestors and loves to surround himself with pretty things and people. Ollie is a real socialite who comes across as sweet, playful and generous but is quite the shrewd businessman underneath. However he also has a heart of gold and strong sense of Justice. Anything he’s collected over the years he’s made sure he earned the right way. He's pretty sensitive to why other people like him and is friendly but emotionally distant to those who he thinks just want to use him.

Ollie owns and operates one of the largest banks in ebott. He mainly deals with those around the farm district and mountains but his customers spread all over. He’s known for fair policies and holding up his bargains, but also being harsh on loaners who don’t pay back. Investors love him since he's pretty generous with new businesses.

Barin (drakefell sans): Barin is the definition of duty. He never breaks a promise and always does his work with his all. He has a strong sense of Justice and despises anyone who don’t whole their ends of a bargain. He’s a harsh leader, but also knows a good balance between when to push and when to rest his “subjects”. He has a bit of a hard time allowing himself to unwind when he feels like there’s still things to do, but his loved ones can bully him into it lol. Never ever get into a bet with him. He will win.

He leads a guild of rune masters which double as a mining company. They cover the mountain that had the famine monsters trapped, now a large mining complex where they mostly cut out building stone. They keep the mines maintained and also sell their services to ebott protecting buildings with rune arrays. Even the royal palace uses their runes.

Arwin (drakefell papyrus): Arwin despite his rough upbringing in his au, he always seemed to hold on to his softness. He’s a kind gentle monster and really detests fighting, but is more than capable of doing so if he needs. He’s personable, a smooth talker and very popular despite his scarier looks. He's very protective over the weaker ones in his guild, especially the humans and sees himself as a bit of a knight in shining armor

Like in his old au, keeping his role as his brothers loyal second in command, Arwin now works as a sort of spokesman for the guild. He handles contracts and the guilds clients. He also settles any conflicts between the members when barin isn’t around. If he's finished all the above for the day, he helps with rune jobs and the mine.

I’m looking at some of my old posts and have realized that a lot of the character descriptions aren’t very accurate with how I write the characters now. So I’ll be be redoing each skeledudes general personality description (and job description) and reblogging this post each day until I have all of them ;)

Sans: He’s our typical lazy and punny guy! Sans is a real people’s man and has friends and connections all over. Despite finding across as a charismatic extrovert, he’s actually very introverted and enjoys his friends in controlled doses. Sans is a playful prankster at heart. His favorite reactions from his victims is the face of blank confusion as they witness his quiet little acts of chaos. Sans is a very guarded monster who doesn’t typically show a lot of emotion beyond surface level. It takes a long time to earn enough trust for him to open up. A long long time. Sans is also a scholar at heart. The only time you’ll ever see him truly work is when something is interesting enough for him to feel passionate about

His job is a nuclear engineer! Sans is researching ways to combine nuclear energy with magic to make safer and cleaner energy sources

Papyrus: he’s the true definition of an optimist. Papyrus can always see the best in any person or situation. Because of this, people may think that he’s naive. He isn’t, he just stays strong to his ideals and is stubborn enough to ignore any criticism. Papyrus lives for seeing his friends and family succeed. In fact, he’s at his happiest when he makes others happy. This makes him the ultimate cheerleader friend. Pair that with a very empathetic and observant personality, and you have a guy who can get along with almost anyone. However, his passion is also his greatest flaw. When papyrus gets really into something, he sometimes doesn’t see the risks involved and will continue on to that goal regardless. He’s impulsive

For his job, he owns an escape room! It’s actually several different rooms: a large main room, four smaller surrounding ones, the lobby, and a medium room for parties. The puzzles and themes of the rooms change every other month

Star (underswap sans): he’s an adorable positive energy ball of PURE EVIL. Ok ok, not true evil of course, but Star is a manipulative little imp. He goes by the rule of: “if you won’t treat me like an adult, then I’m going to take advantage of it.” He’s definitely not above using his looks to get what he wants. With his friends, Star is easygoing and playful. He loves to tease and flirt and prefers friends who can keep up with him. He’s also a bit of a scatterbrain and has a bad habit of taking on more than he can chew. Star is a wonderful motivator but has issues with being too pushy if he feels like his friend isn’t progressing fast enough.

His job is in the police force as a detective and SAR (search and rescue). His main priority is finding missing persons and taking out human trafficking rinks

Honey (underswap papyrus): honey is a total sweetheart. He can be pretty shy and anxious when you first meet him, but if you’re nice, he’s quick to latch on and adopt you into his friend group. When he’s comfortable, he’s a very chill and playful guy. He has a raging motherly streak and doesn’t realize sometimes that he’s nagging. Honey is a romantic at heart and just wants someone he can be sappy with. He does get very clingy since he assumes that most people are only around him because of Star. Don’t mess with his kitchen. He’s a total nerd and will happily fixate on almost any fandom with his friends

His job is an online translator. He mostly does written legal documents but also sometimes acts at the translator for zoom meetings. Honey prefers to work from home

[ridiasfangirlings]

Florist x tattoo artist au with Florist!Mikoto and Tattoo artist Munakata

Just imagining Munakata having puzzle piece tattoos everywhere, he looks like the most straight-laced guy but then he has all these tattoos and people are always surprised when they see him. Maybe they initially meet when Munakata needs to buy flowers for some special occasion, like it's his niece's birthday, Munakata wishes to buy her a nice bouquet to celebrate. There happens to be a flower shop near where his tattoo parlor is so Munakata stops there after work, wearing a long coat and covered enough that none of his tattoos are visible. It's late and nearly closing time, which is presumably why the only staff member on duty appears to be asleep. Munakata walks right up to the red-haired man and clears his throat very loudly, Mikoto blinks sleepily like huh someone's actually here this late huh. Munakata pushes up his glasses and states that he would like some flowers, if Mikoto has the ability to do so. Mikoto already finds this guy annoying and he's like there are flowers all over the shop, you can go pick them out yourself right, you're not a little kid. Munakata has his doubts that such a person could even work at this sort of store, like are you even aware of what kind of flowers you sell. Normally Mikoto doesn't bother making flower arrangements himself but this guy is pissing him off so Mikoto takes his time very carefully picking out the rarest, weirdest flowers in the shop and haphazardly sticking them together, handing them to Munakata all 'here, flowers.' Munakata doesn't even mind that he's got this weird bouquet though, just pays and decides to take his leave.

A week or two later Mikoto's in need of a new tattoo and decides to stop at the place near the flower shop. Mikoto's friend Kusanagi actually owns the flower shop and Mikoto's only working there because he couldn't be bothered getting a job anywhere else. In reality while they do sell flowers and all that it's also a bit of a cover for gang activities, Mikoto is the head of one of the major street gangs in the area and responsible for keeping the peace around here. He's got a couple of small flame tattoos and has been wanting more but the last time he went to get a tattoo he was attacked by rival gang members and it turned out the owner of the previous tattoo place was snitching on him. Mikoto figures this new place is probably a better idea, he's never been there but he's been told it's popular. He walks in and the bored guy in glasses manning the reception desk clicks his tongue and tells Mikoto to have a seat and someone will be with him in a minute.

Mikoto's pretty amused when the shop owner comes out and it's Munakata, wearing a short-sleeved shirt that shows off his heavily tattooed skin. Munakata sees Mikoto and pushes up his glasses with an intrigued 'oya,' wondering what brings Mikoto here. Mikoto pulls out a cigarette and he's like 'what do you think I'm at a tattoo parlor for,' Munakata chuckles and says he supposes it was an unnecessary question. He invites Mikoto back and Fushimi at the desk expresses some disbelief that Munakata's handling this one himself, Munakata smiles and says naturally this customer will be needing a particular touch. As they go back to a room Mikoto's still looking over Munakata's tattoos, like he didn't take Munakata for the type. Munakata says that he has indeed surprised many people in that manner, but in fact he considers tattooing an art and it's something which has always fascinated him.

Munakata brings up Mikoto's work at the flower shop and adds that his niece enjoyed the flowers. Mikoto shrugs and says it's just a job, Munakata's all 'indeed' and says it is good his brother is largely unaware of flower language or he might wonder why Munakata brought a bouquet indicating 'I hate you' and 'never speak to me again.' Mikoto smiles widely like huh is that what happened what a coincidence, Munakata assures Mikoto that there are no hard feelings and he certainly will not do anything to cause Mikoto undo pain while giving him the new tattoo. Mikoto's all 'that so, I guess it'd be unprofessional otherwise' and Munakata's like 'of course,' pushing up his glasses again. There is absolutely this air of challenge between them and Munakata asks what kind of tattoo Mikoto would like, Mikoto probably changes his mind right there and decides to go for something more intricate just to see if Munakata can handle it. Munakata is more than happy to oblige and Mikoto ends up pretty sore for a while but even he can't deny that Munakata's skill is above average. He figures he could maybe go back there for something else, just for the hell of it, and meanwhile Munakata's suddenly developed a need for buying flowers in order to study them and improve his art abilities.

[katsuhera]

LIKE A PROFESSIONAL | armin arlert, aot ˗ˏˋ armin arlert x f!reader ˗ˏˋ wc: 1443 ˗ˏˋ nsfw (18+), masseur!armin, fingering, lil bit of a dom!armin<3, that's all tbh

hera's kinktober: day 8 of 16. taglist form here.

you shed your clothes nervously, holding the towel to cover your front as you step over to the bed, laying down on your back as you waited for your masseur to come in.

you were told at the front desk that your normal masseuse was out sick today, but they had a new employee who could take you if you were comfortable—and you’d said yes without much of a second thought, but now that you were alone with your thoughts, you suddenly realized that you’d never had a session with a masseur before.

but it couldn’t be that bad or that different… right?

“hi, y/n?” a blonde chirped sweetly as he knocked on the door, opening it just a crack. “can i come in?”

“yes!” you called out, hating how your voice sounded so shaky.

“hi,” he said warmly, bright blue eyes holding yours gently. “my name is armin! i’ll be taking care of you today.”

taking care of me… your thoughts started to wander, and you wanted to smack yourself for it—the session hadn’t even started.

“hi, i’m y/n,” you smiled, propping yourself up on your left elbow and keeping the towel clutched to your body with your right arm. “it’s nice to meet you! i heard today’s your first day.”

he smiled softly, cocking his head shyly. “it is, so please do let me know if there’s anything i can improve upon. i had a lot of training, and i promise i’m allowed to practice,” he laughed. “but again, i’m very open to feedback and i value what my clients have to say.”

“i’m sure you’ll be great,” you laughed back, and your heart nearly skips a beat when you see your words causing him to blush, a pretty rosy color starting to creep up his cheeks.

“thank you,” he smiled, blue eyes twinkling earnestly. “okay, well—you can go ahead and lay on your stomach!”

he turned around respectfully, and you climbed onto the bed, getting comfortable and draping the towel over your lower back and ass.

“i’m ready now!” you said, starting to feel much more at ease. this isn’t going to be bad at all, you thought, relieved. armin seemed to be sweet and genuine, and not to mention attractive. suddenly you wondered if he’d be as soft and sweet in bed—and again, you wished you could slap yourself for your wandering thoughts. this massage session would be just that—a massage session.

right?

“do you have any places that you’d like me to focus on?” he asked, his voice soft and soothing.

“mmm,” you said, already beginning to melt into his gentle touch. “my lower back, maybe? ah—and my legs.”

your voice came out in delicate whispers, too lost were you in whatever magic his hands were performing on your body.

he chuckled in response. “alright, i’ll be sure to help you out.”

you could have moaned—his touch left you wondering where he’d been your whole life. not that your previous masseuse was bad, or anything, but armin was just so good. it was almost as though his fingers danced across your skin, finding your knotted muscles and undoing them with ease. his touch was just so light on your skin, and you found yourself craving his touch even more, wanting to feel it across your chest, over your ass—

“is this okay?” he asked, pulling you out of your stupor. his fingers were dangerously close to the crest of your ass, his thumb mere inches from your entrance—a distance just far enough to be classified as professional, but left your mind reeling. “your legs are really tight, have you been working out a lot?”

“no,” you responded honestly. “but i walk everywhere, so i guess that would explain it.”

“that makes sense,” he said, kneading your soft flesh. “just let me know if anything hurts, okay?”

you nodded lazily. “don’t worry armin, everything feels really good right now—like i’m in heaven.”

he laughed, blushing. “that’s good to hear.”

in your sleepy and relaxed haze, you let an unfiltered thought slip past your lips.

“you’re really good with your hands.”

your words hung in the dimly lit room, settling before you fully realized how they could have been interpreted.

“oh my—i’m sorry,” you said quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up from embarrassment. “that’s not what i—”

“that’s okay,” he said, cutting you off and giving you a gentle squeeze on your thigh. “i’m very glad to hear it.”

he continued on as though you’d never said anything, and you lay there, eternally grateful for the way you were able to hide your face. you bit the inside of your cheek, punishing yourself for letting your dirty little mind get the best of you.

but you didn’t lie—he was really good with his hands. with fingers so precise, you were sure that he’d be so skilled in other practices…

a familiar pressure started to build in your lower core in spite of your internal chastising, and armin’s hands traversing higher up your legs certainly did not help.

there were a few instances in which you were pretty certain that the tips of his fingers dipped just under the hem of the towel, but you couldn’t be one hundred percent sure—not with the way your mind kept wandering with each chance it got.

you could have sworn that he cupped the crest of your ass cheek for just a second, but his gentle and innocent demeanor kept you second-guessing.

and he continued to tease you like this for what felt like hours, teasing you and making you doubt yourself for so long that you were practically dripping, your pussy aching and desperate for some much needed attention that you nearly arched your chest into the bed, hoping that he would take the hint.

lucky for you, he found himself just as unable to hold back, biting the bullet and letting his fingers swipe across your glistening entrance, your combined shaky breaths filling the room at once.

“i—i’m sorry,” he said quickly, realizing the severity of what he’d done.

“no—no, it’s okay,” you responded, just as quickly, grateful once more for being able to hide your face. “i… i liked it.”

“ah,” he responded, also thankful for the fact that you couldn’t see his face, nor the painfully hard bulge in his pants. “that so?”

“yes,” you breathed, inhaling sharply as he dragged a finger along your entrance, relishing the way your ass immediately bucked up at the attention. “god—”

you were quickly silenced as his finger entered you, his other hand rubbing soothing circles into your lower back.

“so tight,” he hissed lowly, pumping his finger in and out of you a couple times before easing another into you. “so wet—”

he sucked in air sharply through his teeth as he committed to memory the feeling of your velvety walls squeezing him, pulling him in deeper, impossibly closer, and he became so lost in the feeling that he barely realized that his actions had gotten you so close to cumming.

what had brought him back down to reality was the sound of your labored breaths, shallow panting filling the air as you teetered along the brink of your orgasm.

something primal in him awoke, and he brought his other hand under your stomach, flipping you onto your back.

“i wanna see you cum,” he said, and you nodded obediently, looking into his darkened blue eyes, pupils blown out entirely from lust. “wanna see you cum all over my fingers—can you do that for me?”

“yes, armin,” you whimpered, and he could have cum in his pants just from the look on your face as you answered him.

“good girl,” he whispered, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “cum f’r me, ‘kay?”

and he began to pump his fingers in and out of you once more, bringing his thumb to your swollen clit, other hand caressing your face, soothing you gently as you came for him, the alarm signalling the end of your session ringing just as you came.

your hips bucked into his hand as he kept up his pace, consistent and precise, his jaw hanging slack as he felt your walls squeeze him impossibly tighter, convulsing around his two fingers.

“god, you’re so tight,” he whispered in awe, finally slowing his ministrations, letting you breathe and calm down.

“was that the end of our session?” you asked in a shaky voice, panting still and glancing at his now obvious bulge.

“it is,” he answered ruefully, pulling his fingers out and bringing them to his mouth to taste you. “mm—but we can extend it. shall we?”

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

tagging: @yvonnesky @alert-arlert @itsgoldnsage @tsookieloopie @semisgroupie@levylovegood @alittleoaktree @chaosgremlinbrat @mutsu422 @sen-brainrot@the-one-mrs-koutaro @devilgirlcrybabiey @chaos-night @thebeardedmoon

[sinner-as-saint]

Can’t Stay Away From Me.

Cherry!Seb (mob!seb) x Stripper!reader. 

What is ‘cherry!seb’? Basically just mob!seb but like, daddy-er. (click on the tag for more)

Run-through: You've known the mob boss for a while now. He’s a regular at your club, and you are his personal favorite, everybody knew that you were his girl. You two have definitely broken the ‘no sex on premises’ rule many, many times. And although he called you his, you two were never officially a thing. So when he mysteriously doesn’t show up at the club for weeks, you decide to just put the hurt aside and move on. But the mob boss comes back from the dead just in time. And he doesn’t like what he sees. So he reminds you that you belong to him. Just him. 

Themes: smut, stripper!reader, angst, dirty talk, slight daddy kink, swear words, fluff

a/n: I wrote a hc quite similar to this last year or something, I read it recently and thought why not turn it into a fic since many of you have been missing Cherry!Seb lately. Enjoy!

You stared at yourself in the mirror of the dimly lit locker room. You were alone in there, all the girls had stepped out already. You gently touched the diamond choker you always wore and adored, your fingertips grazing his name upon it. 

His name. His choker. His girl. Everybody knew that. You were his girl so you had certain privileges that the other girls didn’t have. But you never took advantage of the power you had, mainly because you had fun with your job, but also because most nights over the past many months, you spent with him. And you loved every single moment. 

You sighed for the fifth time as you stared into the mirror. Tonight marked a little over three weeks since Seb last showed up at the club. You had no idea where he was, what he was doing, who he was with. And it hurt, bad. 

At first you were worried about his whereabouts, then by the second week you were annoyed and now all you had energy for was anger. Clearly he didn’t care, perhaps he was out there having the time of his life with other women and here you were sulking over his mysterious departure. 

Over the past weeks, you gained quite some new clients. Some new regulars as well. You did some champagne rooms, and earned decently well. But you didn’t make as much money as you made with Seb. 

You decided to stop acting like an overly obedient pet waiting for its master. You had to work and earn, like you did before him. 

You took one last look at yourself in the mirror and then went on to take the choker off. It would be humiliating to be proud of being his girl and wear his name on your neck while he was out doing God knows what. 

You tossed the choker onto the dresser with a heavy heart and walked out of the locker room, deciding to just be yourself tonight; the same beautiful, confident woman you were before meeting him all those months ago. He hadn’t been back in weeks, who knows perhaps he might never come back here. 

When you walked out, you noticed all the eyes on you. You looked good and you knew it. You sent some smiles around, some winks, a couple of flirty lines and by the time you made it to one of your regular clients, you had already earned some money bills. 

Your client tonight was an older gentleman. He was not like the typical, lousy businessmen who came by your club often. But he was very giving. The moment you settled on his lap he tucked a bundle of cash into the waistband of your thong, that alone earned him a lap dance to a sensual song. Besides, you were feeling yourself tonight so you were extra good today. 

You were carefree. You felt confident, and beautiful and sexy and you could feel all the eyes on you tonight. You danced like there’s no tomorrow. Your client was so satisfied he even put his golden chain on you at some point. You felt spoilt, so you gave him your best obviously. 

Amongst all those stares you got, one of them burned the most. You could feel the vibe around you change. You discreetly scanned the room and met with a pair of eyes you least expected. Stormy, ocean blue ones which made you tremble in both fear and hunger. 

Surrounded by his loyal guards, he stood there looking like a god; expensive, dark suit, the button of his shirt carelessly undone - he looked delectable - gawking, unable to believe that his precious babygirl dared to sit on another man’s lap. He was furious, and you could tell by the way he was shooting glares at you. 

Guess you didn’t expect him to just pop out of nowhere. But you didn’t let his presence ruin your mood right away. You maintained eye contact with him as you moved salaciously across the man’s lap. Biting your lip and being as inappropriate as you could; breaking all of Seb’s rules. 

He noticed it all. How you weren’t wearing his collar, how your dark red outfit was ridiculously revealing, how your body moved just to torment him, how you captured everyone’s attention. The more he looked at you, the angrier he got. 

You held his stare, daring and confidently. He decided not to cause a scene at your workplace so he simply pointed towards the corridor which led to the champagne rooms and walked off in that direction, expecting you to follow immediately. 

You could do so. You could drop everything and run to him because you missed him so much. But you purposely didn’t. He had made you wait over three weeks, he could wait some more minutes you thought. 

Meanwhile Seb was fuming inside the room. How dare you? Most of all, how dare that guy touch you like that? He couldn’t wait to have that talk with you and remind you that you belong to him and only him, because it seemed that you had forgotten. 

After finishing up your dance, you took your time and gracefully moved away from the man. You didn’t take off the golden chain, you didn’t take out the bundle of cash tucked into your thong either; you walked into the champagne room just like you left the man earlier - a little flushed. 

You knew which room he was in since his guards stood outside the door. They let you in and judging by their faces you could tell that their boss was in a bad mood. And you intended on making it worse. 

“Have you lost your way? Are you sure you’re in the right place?” You sassed, upon walking in. You took in his appearance for a moment or two and realized just how much you had missed him.  

Seb sat on the dark red couch, manspreading like it was his throne; quietly sipping on his liquor while his piercing eyes shamelessly roamed your body. The ridiculously bright neon signs behind him were the only things illuminating the room, buzzing slightly. Seb took his time and studied you; torn between loving and hating what he was seeing. 

Your lingerie drove him insane. Your excuse of a see-through cover up did too. Your slightly smudged dark lipstick made him want to ruin it even more, but the thought of where your lips had been were making him even angrier. 

He hated the sight of the golden chain around your neck, replacing the very expensive diamond collar he had given you a while ago; with his last name on it. That was a gift you were meant to wear all the time; to remind you and everyone else that you belonged to him. The mob boss was very possessive when it came to you, and now here you were, disrespecting him. 

But the thing he hated the most, was the bundle of cash tucked into the waistband of your underwear. And he knew that you were purposely showing it off. 

You caught the way his jaw clenched as his eyes roamed your body. He was thinking, plotting. You felt hot under his gaze. You had always loved the way he looked at you, like he owned you. He looked at you the same way, but right now he was pissed off as well.  

Seb had missed you. He even hurried his way back, eager to find you and have you on his lap while he finally touched you and told you all about the time he’d been gone. But instead, he returned to find that his girl had defied him. He felt betrayed. 

“Come here.” He simply said, authority dripping from his words. You could tell he was annoyed and troubled by what he saw out there but he had brought this upon himself. You stayed put despite his very clear order. You didn’t move a muscle. He sighed and rolled his eyes before staring deep into your soul again. “Babygirl,” he sounded threatening, “I said, come here.” He pointed to his lap. 

You approached him, knowing he would be a pain in the ass after all that he saw. But you knew he’d eventually give in because he had said it himself, he can’t stay away from you for too long. Neither could you honestly, and that was why him being gone for so long hurt so bad. 

Seb watched you as you slowly walked over to him, and before you even came to a full stop in front of him, he reached out and pulled you into his lap; gripping your jaw to make sure he had your full attention. 

“Get your fucking hands off me!” you slapped his hand away, surprising both you and him. You had never acted this way before. Usually you craved his touch. You did even now, but right now you were angry at him too. 

Seb growled as he pulled you closer and placed his hand back to your face, gripping your jaw harder this time and it hurt just a little but nothing compared to how you had felt this whole time he’s been gone. 

“Why are you being such a brat, huh? And what the fuck do you think you were doing just now, outside?” He asked, using the same tone he used when dealing with his rivals. Just a tone of pure anger and annoyance. 

Normally he was sweet and gentle with you, so this was new for you. But you wouldn’t give in so easily. You scoffed. “My fucking job is what I was doing! Now go get fucked somewhere else! I’m not your little toy!” You were mad too, and your anger camouflaged the hurt. 

You tried to get off his lap but he wouldn’t let you move. His grip on you was firm and strong. 

“Watch that tone with me, babygirl.” He threatened. This was the second time you had been entirely disrespectful while talking to him tonight. Seb was so close to losing his cool. 

“Or what?” Just two very bratty words from you was enough to make him lose his mind, and his calm and composure. 

Within a second he flipped the two of you and he had you pinned down on the couch beneath him. He held you by the neck gently, wrapping his long finger around your throat and applying the slightest bit of pressure which made you gasp softly. 

“You will not disrespect me like that. You know I don’t tolerate it.” He reminded you of his inability to put up with disobedience. 

You chuckled, mocking him. “And what are you gonna do about it? I have nothing to lose, Seb. I’m just a toy for you to play with, just a whore, or just an easy fuck on most days, aren’t I?” You sounded as though you were questioning his power, insulting him and hurting him at the same time. 

How dare you say that? How dare you assume that you were nothing but those things to him? You meant so much more to him, and you had no idea. Of all the people in his life, you were the only one who didn’t spend time with him out of fear. You were the only thing which he looked forward to almost each day. 

The mob boss was not good at being affectionate, so he thought that perhaps showering you with gifts and money would convey how much you meant to him. But apparently not, because you still dared to say such things right to his face. And upon hearing those things, something in him flipped like a switch. 

You saw it in his eyes; wild, and determined. 

“Just a whore, huh? Well, let me show you how I treat one,” he whispered before going absolutely feral. 

He tore off your lingerie in less than a few seconds. And you let him. You were mad, but you had missed him too and the truth is you’d take whatever he’d give you. He was mean, and dangerous and unpredictable but you loved him. Oh you loved him, and his cold heart and his dark soul. 

While he tore your clothes off your body, your shaky hands tugged at his suit and his shirt too. You could feel his hunger, and him yours. He wanted nothing more than to just be slow, and loving and love you and tell you just how much he missed you. But before all that, he needed to teach you a lesson. 

“I was stupid to even give you any attention.” He kissed his way down your naked body, kissing and nibbling on your skin as he went. “Should’ve left you out there, to be used like a little whore.” He mumbled, growling under his breath through clenched teeth while he parted your legs and settled in between them. 

Your breaths were short and fast as you looked up at him towering you. You had missed the sight of him above you, all big and strong. In less than a minute, he had his erected cock out in his hand. And the sight of him stroking it ever so gently made you whimper in need. 

“I was stupid to even put you on a fucking pedestal, and call you mine. I leave for some time and you get back down to where you truly belong. Guess whores never learn, huh?” He was quick to push himself in you, not even bothering about your whimpers and moans. 

You dripping wet core gripped around him immediately. Your body arched off the surface of the couch as you gasped and moaned. He supported himself above you and smirked as he saw your face morph into a frown. 

“Nothing...” he pulled out and pushed back into you again, “...but a fucking toy for me.” He repeated your words back at you as he sped up and pounded into you, making you moan wantonly in pleasure. He knew his words were a little harsh, but he wanted you to feel how he felt when he walked in to find you on someone else’s lap. 

You whimpered at how good he felt. He quickened his pace. He was relentless. 

“Guess you’ll do anything for money, huh?” His hand came down to grab you by the jaw again, forcing you to open your eyes and look into his deep, blue ones. “Tell me, did he fuck you like this as well? Did he touch you like daddy does? Did you let him?” He asked as he merciless pounded into you. 

You could only moan in response, and he got the answer he needed. He knew your body, and judging by the way you moved and squirmed under him and the sounds you made, he could tell no one had touched you since he’s been gone.  

“All fucking mine,” he growled as he let go of your face, grabbing your wrists and pinning them above your head. He grabbed the golden you wore and yanked it off you, throwing it somewhere on the ground behind him. 

You moaned out loud, struggling to keep your eyes open as it started to water. But the moment your eyes started to close, you felt a gentle smack on your cheek. 

“Look at me,” he leaned down to bite your mouth, “What is it? You can’t take daddy’s cock?” He taunted. “But isn’t that what whores do? Hmm?” he growled, “Shut up and take it then, take all of me. What else is a whore good for, huh?” He moaned and growled right against your mouth, clenching his teeth or occasionally biting down on your lip as he pounded into you relentlessly.

You moaned as he fucked deeper into you. You whimpered at the intensity of his thrust, and he kept going. You cried out as the pressure built up nicely in between your legs. Seb moaned at how your walls gripped his cock and milked it. 

You felt him too; deep inside you, touching you everywhere you wanted him too. You felt your tears fall down your cheeks. You were close...so close…

“Please… please daddy...” you whined, begging pathetically and unable to arrange your words or your thoughts any better. “Please…”

Finally, your body betrayed you and you came all over his cock without any warning. You squirmed and moaned incessantly as the pleasure washed over you. Seb didn’t slow down, he kept pounding into you as your eyes rolled back and you moaned out loud as you came. 

You whimpered at how he kept slamming into you even after you came, and your face burned as you felt the knot forming again right at your core. He fucked you relentlessly; not even stopping for a second. He panted and groaned at how good you felt around him; wet and warm all for him. Your walls clenched around him violently and your body arched off the couch. You felt your second release approaching while you recovered from the first one. 

“Look at me,” he mumbled as he noticed your eyes were closing. You fought the need to shut your eyes and stared into his blue ones. “You’re mine. My little whore,” he growled as he sped up, “My girl,” he let out a grunt, “Mine. You hear me?” 

You nodded. Your body trembled as you came again; gushing out around his cock while he still pounded relentlessly into you as he felt your walls clench around him, milking him perfectly and triggering his orgasm. 

Seb came right after you did; groaning and swearing under his breath. He pulled his cock out of you and looked down at the lovely mess you were; his cum dripping out of you. He gently reached down to touch your sensitive and throbbing core, it was wet everywhere. 

He didn’t hesitate before shoving two fingers inside you again. “Just gonna finger my cum back into your greedy cunt. And you’re gonna let me, won't you? You little slut…” he whispered. You moaned at how sensitive you were; you’re body shuddering under him. “You’ll take whatever I give you, huh?” he whispered before he leaned down to kiss your open mouth again. His tongue invaded your mouth like he owned it while he fingered you. 

You were a mess as he fingered you faster, and faster until you came all over his fingers again. You could barely keep your eyes open as Seb pulled your naked body onto his lap. You had missed his warmth so you instinctively clinged to him, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and pushing your face into his neck.

You didn’t mean to cry, but you couldn’t help it. Everything was too much, you felt overwhelmed. Seb’s heart broke at the sound of your quiet sobs. He had been rough, more  than usual, and quite mean too… He was aware of that. 

He stroked your bare back gently, tightening his arms around you. “Are you okay, babygirl?” He asked. You didn’t answer. “Baby?” he whispered again, softly. You didn’t respond, instead you sniffled again as you tried your hardest to fight back your tears but they fell anyways. 

“Baby, I’m so sorry.” He spoke again, his voice a stark contrast to what it was just a minute ago. He was gentle now, soft. He was apologizing for everything. 

“You left me.” You finally spoke, voice strained and tired. You sobbed softly, still holding him tightly, “You’re so mean.” 

His heart broke a little more. Once he was done with you, you could’ve easily left and asked him to never show his face around here again, but you didn’t. You needed him as much as he needed you. You stayed because you had no one else, and you needed to be held and taken care of.

“I’m sorry baby. I’ve been away for a long time. I know.” He apologized.

You sniffled again. “Still. You were so mean.” You spoke, pulling away to look at him with tears in your eyes.

He wiped your tears away and pulled you into him. “I lost my mind when I saw you with that guy. You’re mine and you know that. But you still let someone else put their dirty hands on you. How could you, baby?” He was calmer now. 

“I didn’t wanna do it.” you said, pulling away from him to look into his eyes. His eyes were soft and deep; it only reminded you of how much you loved him. 

He was confused by your words. “Do what?” he asked, gently running his hands up and down your sides lovingly. 

You wiped some more tears away and took a deep breath. “I didn’t want to perform for anyone else. But I was running out of money, and the rent was due.” You finally confessed. 

“You could’ve just told me that, baby.” he said, sounding more caring than you wanted him to.

You almost chuckled. “You weren’t here. You were gone for weeks, Seb. Besides, that’s my problem, not yours.” You made it clear. But he didn’t like that.

He reached out to grab your face, making sure he has your undivided attention. “You are mine. All your troubles are mine, okay? You don’t have to worry about a thing from now on. I’ll take care of you, and everything else. I’ll make it up to you, I promise. But please forgive me. I never wanted to hurt you.” 

Of course you’d forgive him. But just for the hell of it, you said, “No.” and avoided his eyes. Seb sighed, knowing you’d come around eventually. He had you back now and that was all that mattered. 

He took his suit jacket and put it around you to shelter you from the cold air. “You don’t have to worry, you’re never gonna work in this club again.”

You knew that possessive, slightly arrogant tone of his, and it only entailed surprises. “What do you mean?” You questioned further

“I’m buying it. You can run it.” He spoke as if it were nothing at all. He had been thinking about this for a while now. 

You were shocked. “Seb, what-”

He cut you off, pulling you closer to kiss your forehead. “You heard what I said, baby.” He mumbled against your skin. 

“Why?” You questioned, looking down at how you straddled his lap. 

“Because I want you all to myself. I want you to be with me.”

You scoffed. “This is how you ask girls out?”

He looked at you and smiled. “Not girls, just you.” He caressed your tear stained cheek lazily. His heart fluttered as he looked at you, he loved you so much. He could find better ways to show it though. 

After talking about it, after he constantly apologized for his previous behavior and a few playful banters later, he got up and offered you his hand to take. 

“Where are we going?” you asked.

“Home.” he replied.

“Your home?”

“Our home.” he corrected you. “You’re coming to live with me. I’ve been far from you for too long and I’m done hiding what I feel for you.” You began to say something but he spoke up again before you could say a word. “And I won’t take no for an answer.” 

You smirked. “Why? Haven’t you had your fill just now?” you teased. 

“I have.” He answered as you took his hand and stood up. “But every king needs his queen by his side. And I need you. I’ll keep you safe and happy, and I’ll love you. Forever.”

You gave him a teary smile. “You never told me what suddenly brought you back after three weeks.”

He smiled and pressed his lips against yours, whispering, “You know I can’t stay away from you, babygirl.” 

[crumbledcastle28]

Chapter 11: A Squeeze

Warnings: mentions of violence and anxiety, people getting shot, reader gets tense, Mando is extremely touch starved, and softness.

Author’s Note: Chapter 11! This one is one of my personal favs, so I hope you enjoy!

Gif by bestintheparsec

As you traveled with the crew near the outskirts of town, you couldn’t stop thinking about what the child had done the night before.

Your entire life, death has plagued you. Everywhere you went you carried the guilt of death and knowing that there was nothing you could do to stop it. You had heard legends of a Sith named Darth Plagueis who had the power to stop death, but he was deep in the dark side.

You were never going to go down that road.

All you knew was this little kid was powerful. More powerful than you realized, and definitely more powerful than Mando realized. He had been so concerned about keeping this child safe for so long, when in reality, the kid had the ability to keep Mando safe the whole time.

But at the end of the day, the Empire was still around. They would figure out the child’s powers eventually if they kept coming after him, and you were not going to let what happened to you happen to him.

You had been in deep thought for so long, you barely noticed Mando giving a little tap on your elbow. You were a little startled, but relaxed at Mando’s voice.

“You ok?” he asked, and you nodded.

“Yeah… I’m ok,” you respond. “I just… never knew that was possible,” you say, referring back to the child.

You looked down at his sleeping form in the pram next to you, and you smiled at his vulnerable state. What could such a little brain like that dream about?

Mando went quiet after you responded to his concern, and you knew it was because there really isn’t a good way to respond. He obviously didn’t know the kid’s potential either, and he was probably in even more shock than you were.

“Thank you, for checking in on me,” you say, finally turning around to meet his gaze. You had been riding on the same blurrg for a while, but you were trapped in your own head. His closeness to you was starting to make a blush crawl up your neck.

He nodded in an understanding way, and you headed on.

~~*~~

After some time, you noticed that Karga and his two bounty hunters were talking in whispers as they walked in front of you, and that obviously rubbed Cara the wrong way.

“You guys think they’re having second thoughts?” she asked in a teasing tone, and you returned a breathy laugh.

You tried to hide your smile, but that had been the first time she acknowledged you in days, and she was even joking with you? You didn’t want to get her hopes up, but maybe Cara was having second thoughts as well.

“Could be,” Mando replied. “I need you two to help me keep an eye on them.”

You and Cara nodded your heads, and scanned the hunters’ bodies with your eyes for a few minutes. The three of you had switched to being on foot while Kuiil took the only remaining blurrg.

All of a sudden, a bluff overlooking the town appeared, and Karga was gazing down at the city below.

“I guess this is it,” he said, but he was still facing the view.

The other two bounty hunters had stated to make their way behind you, and the alarms in your head were blaring.

You heard every step, every ruffle, and every breath they made. And it was driving you crazy.

They were at your backs, but you had your longspear in hand. You had better skills than these two by a long shot.

Suddenly, Karga spins around, and fires at the two bounty hunters who instantly hit the ground.

You drew your own weapon, while Mando and Cara approached Karga from either side with their weapons drawn as well.

You knew it. This man was not to be trusted. He could have shot the kid!

“There’s something you should know,” Karga says, and you try not to roll your eyes.

“Please. Enlighten us,” you say sarcastically, but you have venom in your voice. Karga can feel it, so he immediately transitions into his explanation.

“The plan was to kill you and take the kid,” Karga says, and your blood boils.

“But after what happened last night… I couldn’t go through with it. Go on, you can gun me down here and now, and it wouldn’t violate the code. But if you do, this child will never be safe.”

Your weapon was still at the ready, and Cara and Mando didn’t seem convinced either.

“We will take our chances,” Cara says.

“Perhaps you should let him speak,” Kuiil says, and you glance over your shoulder to look at him. This poor man had been though a lot, yet his voice exuded such gentleness. It reminded you of Mando’s voice when he talked to you.

“We both need the client eliminated,” Karga said, “let me take the child to him, and then you three…”

“No,” Mando interupts. He lowers his blaster, and glances at you to lower your weapon.

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion, and Cara seems to have the same reaction.

“What are you doing,” she asks, and you are wondering the same thing.

“As long as the Imp lives, he will send hunters after the Child,” Mando says, and you are starting to understand what he’s getting at.

“Bring me. Tell him you captured me. Get me close, and I’ll kill him,” Mando says to Karga, and you hate the gleam of excitement that flashed in Karga’s eyes.

“That’s a good idea,” Karga responded. “Give me your blaster.”

“This is insane,” Cara said, turning to look at you. You see Mando giving his blaster to Karga, and you honestly don’t even know what to think.

Karga just openly admitted to betraying you and trying to kill Mando, so there was no way you would trust him in the slightest. But at the same time, what other choice did you have? The child had to be safe, and Mando was right. The hunters won’t ever stop.

You give Cara a look of pity, but you lower your longspear. Your shoulders slightly relax, and you feel your grip loosening.

“What else can we do?” you ask her, and she looked away in disgust.

“Well, I’m coming with you,” Cara said. “I’ll tell them I caught you.”

“Then she can bring the child,” Karga said, and Cara started to relax a little.

“No,” Mando said firmly. “The kid goes with y/n back to the ship.”

You and Mando were normally on the same page, but you had to admit, that didn’t really make any sense.

“But without the child none of this works,” Karga said, and you hated that you agreed with him.

“I have a plan,” he says to the two of them, and then he strides over to you.

“I need you to ride to the ship with Kuiil and the kid and seal yourselves in. Engage ground security protocols. Nothing on this planet will breach those doors,” Mando says to you as he guides the Child in his pram over to your arms.

You look into Mando’s visor, trying to find his eyes, but an evil, anxious part of you starts to awaken.

This could be the last time you stare into that helmet.

If this goes wrong, Mando and Cara would be almost laughably outnumbered by the Imps.

You continue to search for his eyes, and you sigh quietly. You have to keep yourself together for him.

Mando breaks the eye contact to rub the child’s ears, and you long for him to look back at you. The trance you guys enter when you look at each other is so cheesy, but it feels real. You wanted to stare at him forever.

“Be careful,” you murmur, only loud enough for him to hear.

He looks back at you and nods, but you notice he is squeezing his fists at his sides again.

He keeps trying to stop himself from something, and you are too impatient to figure out what it is, so you take his hands in yours and give them a gentle squeeze.

He looked down at your hands in his. You didn’t know it, but Mando was soaking in the fact that you were showing him more kindness in your touch than he had experienced in decades. Mando struggled, he managed to meet your eyes again.

“You too,” he says, rubbing your knuckles, and you smile at him.

He lets go of your hands gently, and you pray to whatever God was out there that he would not leave them permanently empty.

~~*~~

After Mando gave you your assignment, you and Kuiil immediately got a move on back to the Razor Crest with the child in your arms.

You hold the child close to your chest as Kuiil drives the blurrg behind you, and you give the child a little squeeze. Your nerves are starting to get the better of you.

Before, you could have worked with a crew like this and never felt a thing. They were going in outnumbered, so what? You were in the safe position and you had the prize in your arms? What did you care?

But now, your very hope at being happy again was walking into an imperial guarded death trap, pretending to be taken prisoner.

You hated this plan. Mando and Cara were smart, so you decided not to question their decision, but that didn’t mean you didn’t still have your doubts.

The only thing keeping you sane was the cooling air hitting your face as you rode, and the little gurgles from the child in your arms.

This is all you could control at this moment. You could control his safety, and you were not going to fail.

Tag list:

@leahkenobi @farfromjustordinary @pinkninja200 @bookloverfilmoholic @440mxs-wife

[masterofmunson]

driver’s license ~ part one

Harry Styles x Fem!Reader

Summary: Things between you and Harry were going great. That was the case until he blindsided you and broke your heart by leaving you for his co-star. Based off the song Driver’s License by Olivia Rodrigo.

Warnings: language and angst. covid doesn’t exist.

Word Count: 4.4k+

Author’s Note: Here she is! I’m sorry it’s so delayed. School has really been kicking my ass. Consider this my anti-valentine’s day fic. This will be a two or three part mini series, I haven’t decided yet. Please let me know what you think! Comments, reblogs, and asks are highly encouraged and appreciated! Enjoy!

It felt like your heart had been ripped out of your chest. It’d been several weeks since you saw Harry last. He returned to film Don’t Worry Darling and you were left feeling empty and buried yourself in your work. Whatever was happening between you and Harry was up in the air.

You’re friends. You’re the best of friends, at least you were for a while. He wrote a song for you. You kissed him. He kissed you back. You were happy, and then all of a sudden he became a stranger to you. You don’t recognize the person you’ve come to know.

“Harry? I thought you couldn’t take me driving today?” you asked one evening as he stands on your doorstep with slumped shoulders and a nervous gaze. You’d texted him earlier about driving around the area and his answer was short, but not out of the ordinary for him.

Now, staring at him, something was clearly wrong and he looked like he would rather be anywhere than in front of you on your porch. “Is everything alright?”

He lets out a nervous breath and bites the inside of his cheek. You open the door wide enough for him to step inside. He rings his fingers together. “Sorry, I should’ve called,” he said, his eyes roam around the foyer of your apartment.

Your brows knit together. He’s acting strange. He shows up unannounced all the time and it’s never bothered you before. You’re friends and slowly testing the waters to be something more.

“Harry, what’s wrong? What aren’t you telling me?”

The silence is deafening and it sends a chill down your spine. He looks down at the floor and the lump in your throat grows. You fight back tears. You know exactly what the silence means. He’s having second thoughts about pursuing a relationship with you. Your worst fear is coming true.

“You’re having second thoughts about our relationship, aren’t you?”

Harry swallows hard, nodding slowly. “Sort of. I don’t regret it, and I still very much have feelings for you, but I’ve had time to think. I just don’t think it would be fair to start our relationship right now. I don’t want to distract you from what’s important to you and I have the press tour coming up as well as my tour. I want you to be happy and you won’t see me for months at a time.”

You don’t really know what to say. You want to scream and shout at him. None of that mattered before the two of you kissed. He would see you whenever his schedule allowed and you traveled to see him whenever you could. He was your best friend and you made an effort to make your friendship the way it is.

You’re used to the distance. You’re used to the texts, phone calls, and FaceTiming him. It’s how you stay in touch when you’re thousands of miles apart. Why would it be any different now that you’re together?

You try not to cry. It’s such a piss poor excuse to end things between the two of you. After all you’ve been through together, he’s ending it because he’s scared.

“Are you kidding me, Harry? You’re ending whatever this is because you’re scared? I made the choice to kiss you that night. You made the choice to kiss me back. You’re my best friend. I don’t care about the distance. I want you,” you confessed. A tear falls on your cheek and you turn your head away from him to wipe it away.

Harry sighed, scratching the back of his head. “I’m sorry. You deserve better. You deserve stability and I can’t give you that, at least not right now.”

You let out a shaky breath to try and mask the sob creeping up your throat. More tears gather in your eyes and against your better judgement, you let Harry reach for your face. His thumb brushes against the shell of your cheek and you lean into his touch. He presses a lingering kiss to your forehead and you hold the hand pressed against your cheek.

A few tears fall and he gently wipes them with the pad of his finger. You sniff quietly and come to your senses and pull away from him. You wipe your nose and let out an awkward laugh. You rock back on your heels and nod towards the door.

“You should go.”

He nods slowly and walks towards the door. He opens the door and turns to look at you one more time before he leaves. You look away. He’s seen enough. You can’t let him see you break further. It doesn’t matter if he’s your best friend. He’s breaking your heart.

The door shuts behind him and you gasp for air as you let the tears fall. You grab at your shirt and fall to the floor. You bring your knees to your chest and cry and cry.

You never thought the person you loved and cared for the most in the world would be the one to hurt you. He gave you a bad excuse. Why did he change his mind? Was it something you said or did? Was it because you weren’t an A list celebrity? You were just a small time producer working in your family owned studio.

It was by chance that a friendship blossomed with the rock star Harry Styles. His own music producer called in sick one day and you filled in for him. You had been friends ever since and occasionally helped him with music every now and then when you weren’t busy with other clients. It was one of the reasons why you had yet to get your driver's license. You were too busy to take the time to learn and you lived in the city so you didn’t really see a need to get your license. You could Uber or bum rides from your brother to the office if you had to.

Did you read too much into things? Harry had written a song for and about you. He told you that much. It was sweet and romantic. You kissed him and it was reciprocated. You didn’t trick or trap him into doing something he didn’t want to do. He confessed his feelings and then you kissed some more.

How would things pan out between the two of you now that he’d broken things off? You couldn’t go back to how things were before. You can’t forget the way he kissed you. You can’t just forget and ignore the way he made you feel. Maybe he would, you thought bitterly.

Harry was notorious for sweeping things under the rug and acting like nothing happened. If he doesn’t address it, it didn’t happen. You won’t let him do that to you. It’s cruel and painful. It’s pure torture.

Now, several weeks have passed since Harry showed up at your doorstep and broke your heart. Since then, you’ve put distance between the two of you. You don’t go out of your way to reach out to him and if he sends you a message, you take hours to reply. Your older brother Malcolm has taken Harry’s place as your driving instructor and he doesn’t ask what happened and you appreciate it.

It’s still a sore subject and you go out of your way to avoid Harry when you know he’s scheduled to work in one of the studios. Everyone’s noticed the change in behavior but no one asks questions. You keep your head down and busy yourself with work. It keeps you from dwelling on what could’ve been. You don’t have the time for such things at work.

It’s a different story altogether when you’re at home alone. Everything reminds you of Harry and you feel utterly pathetic. You drown your sorrows into cheap wine and poorly written romcoms. It’s easier than doing something stupid like drunk texting him.

Now, in hindsight you definitely shouldn’t have been drinking on a lonely Tuesday night. You hadn’t planned on finishing the bottle, but you lost track of time and soon enough you were opening wine bottle number two and finishing it just as easily as you did the first. You know better than to come into work with a raging hangover, but you couldn’t call off. You had a scheduled client that had been on the books for weeks.

Stumbling into the building, you push your sunglasses up the bridge of your noise and trudge to your office. You turn the lights on and close the curtains. Collapsing into your chair, you groan loudly and pull your water bottle out of your work bag and take a long sip.

There’s a gentle knock on the door and you look at your brother through your sunglasses. He laughs softly and steps inside, shutting the door behind him before taking the seat in front of your desk. He leans back into the seat and playfully kicks his feet up on your office table.

There’s a comfortable silence that falls upon the room and Malcolm drinks his coffee slowly. “Can I ask what happened between you and Harry? Wasn’t he teaching you how to drive?”

The question makes your heart drop deep inside your chest. You figured that Malcolm knew that something had happened between you and Harry. You were never in the office when Harry stopped by. Malcolm knew that you were close with Harry, but he didn’t know the extent of your relationship.

You were still figuring out what to label what the two of you were when Harry broke things off. It was still hush hush and kept between the two of you. Nothing fundamentally changed your relationship with each other. All your friends and family as well as his knew that the two of you were incredibly close. No one would’ve known you were seeing each other.

You let out a deep sigh. You tell him everything. You tell him about the song he wrote for you. You tell him how you kissed. You tell him how you’d been seeing each other, going on dates, and acting as everything was normal for the last few months. You tell him how Harry came to your apartment unannounced one day and completely broke your heart just several weeks earlier.

It’s hard to get through and tell him everything with tears gathering behind the sunglasses on your face. Another wave of silence fills the room and Malcolm sits up in the chair and reaches across the table for your hands. He squeezes your hands firmly and you force a smile on your face.

“I’m sorry. You don’t deserve that,” he said. “When you’ve sobered up, let’s take you to the DMV. I don’t want this rite of passage to be tainted with bad memories. It’s about time you get your license. Your car definitely has a thick layer of dust on it.”

You laugh loudly and pull the sunglasses from your face. You wipe away the last of your tears and nod slowly. Malcolm smiles gently and it makes you feel better almost immediately. You could always count on him to make you feel better about a shitty situation you’re going through.

Several more days pass and you are finally a licensed driver. You feel like you’re on a runners high. Now you understand why Harry and the rest of your friends enjoy driving so much. You feel free driving along the coast as the sun sets every evening. It’s made you much happier in recent days.

At least it did.

It was only a matter of time before something ruined your mood. It had been touch and go in the last few days. You could breathe a little easier knowing that Malcolm knew why you were acting and behaving out of the ordinary. He understood. He’s had his fair share of heartbreaks. You don’t have to bottle it in, not when Malcolm knows and doesn’t judge you for it.

When you come to work several mornings after your trip to the DMV, you’re met with odd looks as you walk towards your office. All eyes are on you and it makes your heart drop.

What happened? Was it your dad? Was it Malcolm?

You hurry into your office and throw your things down and barely register that Malcolm is already in your office. You practically jump out of your skin as he shuts the door behind him.

“Jesus Christ, Malcolm!” you screamed, spinning around and clutching your chest. Your heart races and leaps into your throat. “Don’t scare me like that!”

Malcolm stares at you and frowns apologetically. His face is somber and his posture is rigged. He motions for you to sit down.

“You should sit down.”

You stare at him carefully. You cross your arms over your chest. “What’s going on?”

“Please sit, and then I’ll tell you.”

You huff and roll your eyes at your older brother. You collapse into your chair and motion for him to continue. He lets out a careful breath. “There’s no easy way to say this, and you were going to find out eventually, but somehow TMZ got a hold of private photos of you and Harry together.”

Confusion washes over you. You don’t understand. That doesn’t seem too bad. There’s plenty of photos of the two of you on the internet. It’s an occupational hazard and it’s expected if you’re friends with someone like Harry.

“That doesn’t seem so bad. There’s plenty of photos of us together on the internet. Being photographed together isn’t a crime. We’re close,” you reasoned.

Malcolm noticeably winces and your heart drops inside your chest. “Normally, I would agree, but these are…. different. They’re photos of the two of you kissing at Griffith Observatory.”

Oh no. Oh no. Oh shit.

You and Harry had gone on a date to the observatory just a few days after you kissed and confessed your feelings for one another. It was nearing sunset and it was nearly empty of tourists and locals alike.

You were careful not to draw attention towards yourselves. You were having fun and being silly together. You’d been taking photos together and of each other. An elderly couple even offered to take a few photos of the two of you together.

They were incredibly sweet and thankfully had no idea who Harry was. One of the photos they took was your lockscreen for the longest time. You were happy and full of bliss.

“W-What?” you stuttered in disbelief. “How? That was months ago! We were careful and no one recognized him.”

Malcolm shrugs and it doesn’t make you feel any better. Of course he doesn’t know. “There’s more.”

You groan. Could it get any worse? His fans will destroy you if they haven’t already. You lean back in your chair and Malcolm just stares at you.

“There’s photos of Harry and Olivia Wilde together. He allegedly took her as his plus one to Jeff’s wedding. They’re holding hands and look…. close. There’s rumors that they’ve been dating for the last several weeks.”

A wave of nausea washes over you. You can’t breathe. You can’t think. You feel like you’re about to pass out. You feel absolutely disgusted. You don’t know what to say.

You’re hurt and you feel betrayed. Harry had abandoned you when the better option rolled past. His second thoughts about your relationship had nothing to do with the distance or his crazy schedule. It had everything to do with his beautiful, successful co-star and director Olivia Wilde.

It makes you feel sick to your stomach. You’re in no shape to work. You’re a disaster and it feels as if your heart is being stabbed a thousand times.

What happened? What happened to the man you love and who claimed to love you? Someone you love isn't supposed to hurt you the way Harry has. He makes you feel like trash thrown on the side of the road.

You scramble to your feet and hyperventilate as you grab your things from on top of your desk. You race out the door and ignore the stares as you leave the office. You ignore Malcolm shouting after you and climb into your car and take off.

Your grip on the steering wheel is tight and hurts your palms. You ignore how fast you’re going and you drive, and drive, and drive.

Nearly an hour has gone by and you pull off the highway and make the exit towards Newport Beach. You park in an empty lot near the public beach and stare out into the ocean.

You scream in the car. Your hands shake the steering wheel and you cry, and cry, and cry. You feel pathetic and used. How could you ever believe that Harry would ever want to be with someone like you? You’re practically a nobody. It doesn’t matter that your family is in the music industry. You’re not a pop star or an extremely talented director.

Your hands shake and you reach for the tiny, beat up journal tucked away in the bottom of your work bag. You open the door to your car and pop open the trunk. You grab the blanket from the back before locking up and trek up towards the shore.

You sit down in the warm sand and close your eyes. Your shoulders relax as you listen to the crashing waves nearby.

Another wave of tears find their way at the corners of your eyes. This time you don’t try to hold them back.

Your shoulders shake as you cry and you feel utterly defeated. You’ve given Harry way too much power over you. He doesn’t deserve you and you don’t deserve to be treated like someone that can be taken and put back on to a shelf.

You open your journal to a clean page and begin to write. Memories with Harry come to mind and you write, write, write.

“I can’t believe you’re working on Olivia Wilde’s new movie,” you told Harry in awe on the day he broke the news to you. “I mean, I can. It’s just amazing! Just promise me you won’t leave me for your sexy co-star,” you teased.

Harry laughs and kisses the top of your forehead. He gives you a warm and soft kiss to your mouth. “I wouldn’t dream of it, darling,” he whispered. “I’m crazy for you.”

You grin at him and he pulls you closer in the soft sheets of his bed. His touch engulfs you and you sink deeper and deeper into him.

Tears dampen the journal as you write and cry, write and cry. You look away briefly, rubbing at your cheek, ridding it of your tears.

What happened? What went wrong? You loved him with your entire being. Why wasn’t that enough? Why weren’t you enough?

A broken sigh leaves your lips and you turn back to your journal. You write some more. This time, a memory from before the two of you kissed comes to mind.

The two of you sat on top of the hood of his car. The beach is nearly empty as it nears sunset. You eat ice cream and watch the waves crash against the shore. Harry nudges you playfully as takes a spoonful of his strawberry and banana blizzard.

“I think it’s about time you learn how to drive,” he said with a mouthful of food.

You laughed and rolled your eyes. Of course he’d say that. He’s probably sick of being your personal chauffeur and taking you everywhere. You guess it’s time to learn.

“Yeah? Is this your way of telling me that you’re sick of driving me everywhere?” you teased.

He rolled his eyes too and smiled. It made your stomach jump. “Nooooo. I just want you to drive up to my house once in a while. Is that so bad?”

“I guess not. Who do you suggest I should ask to be my teacher?”

You were teasing him. You just wanted to get a rise out of him and it worked. He gasps and shoves you gently. You laughed and he frowned at you.

“If I haven’t made it obvious, I’m teaching you. God knows what’ll happen if you get behind the wheel with anyone else.”

You rolled your eyes at his teasing and bit the inside of your cheek to stop yourself from smiling. That fucker. He knows exactly what to say to get you to take the bait. You scoffed and finished the rest of your ice cream and Harry does the same.

“I’ll teach you in the parking lot for now.”

By the time you’re done writing, you’ve filled nearly five pages in your journal. Words are scribbled out, phrases reworked and rephrased, lines scratched through a number of stanzas.

It’s painful. It’s sorrow. It’s complete and utter heartbreak. It’s vulnerable and raw. It’s what’s become of your relationship with Harry. It’s beautiful.

You stopped crying a while ago. The remains of your tears stain your cheeks and it doesn’t bother you. You gather your things together and return to your car.

This time as you sit in your car and grab the steering wheel, you don’t scream pathetically or shake the wheel. Instead, you look out at shore, the ache in your heart reduced to a dull throb in your chest.

When you return to the office several days later, you ignore the sea of eyes that follow behind you as you trudge to Malcolm’s office. You’re on a mission and you will see it through.

The door to his office is closed and you quickly push it open. “Hey, Malcolm, I wrote something and I want you to—”

You don’t know what you expected when you opened his office door without knocking. He’s told you countless times to knock before entering, but you’ve never listened. You should probably knock now.

Jeff sits in the chair closest to the door. He turns his head to look at you. He gives a courteous smile. Your heart drops inside your stomach and you slowly close the door.

“What’s going on?”

“I think it’s best if you sit down,” Malcolm said, motioning to the empty seat next to Jeff.

“I think I’m good standing right here,” you replied defiantly, resting your back against the door. You cross your arms over your chest and glare at the two men in front of you. They share a glance before Malcolm looks back at you.

“Jeff and I were just discussing our options on how to handle the PR situation going on with you and Harry.”

You let out a bitter laugh. Since when has any PR stunts ever been handled by Harry or his team? They’re notorious for ignoring it altogether. It’s a part of his brand. His fans even know that he sweeps things under the rug. Why would they want to handle it? Any PR is good PR, according to Jeff at least.

“Since when did you start caring about bad PR, Jeff? It is because I’m a nobody in an industry that only cares about the elite? Or is it because Harry being seen with someone who isn’t a celebrity is bad for his brand?” you asked sarcastically with an eye roll.

You feel a wave of tears threaten to fall at the corners of your eyes. Your chin quivers and you bite the inside of your cheek. Don’t cry, don’t cry, do not cry. You’re done crying over Harry.

“Y/n, that’s not true. He’s in the middle of filming and we’ve carefully made it seem like he’s with Olivia Wilde. It’s to help promote the movie,” Jeff defended.

You click your tongue to the roof of your mouth. “Right, because everything’s about Harry and what’s best for him. Do whatever the fuck you want, just leave me out of it and don’t talk to me again.”

You leave his office and ignore the stares as you leave the building. You can’t be here, not when Jeff is just feet away from you. You’re sad, angry, and hurt. You just want to punch something.

You return to your car and scream in frustration the moment the door shuts. Harry didn’t even come to fix the situation himself. Instead he sent his manager to do all the dirty work for him. He still hasn’t said sorry for the hurt and pain he put you through. You doubt he’d even apologize for the hell you’ll get from his fans.

You drive home and change out of your work attire into comfy pajamas. You settle in front of your piano and mess around with the soundboard nearby that’s connected to your computer before pressing the record button.

It goes on like this for hours. You splice the instruments together, fixing and editing the tempo, sound, and bass here and there. It’s a tedious process, but one you love. You carefully place the headphones over your ears and swallow hard before you begin singing the lyrics on the main track. After you add a variety of harmonies and melodies to give the song more depth.

Then it’s over. The song’s finished and recorded. It’s perfect. It’s everything you imagined it would be when you wrote the lyrics on the beach. It’s vulnerable, but it’s beautiful and it’s you. You didn’t need Malcom’s help to produce the song. You did it all on your own, like always.

You lean back into your chair and stare at the computer file. You couldn’t publish it. It won’t see the light of day. You’re not meant to be singing the songs you write. You’re meant to share and produce them for artists that are infinitely more talented than you. Maybe you could sell the rights to someone like Billie Eilish or Ariana Grande. They could do the song justice.

No. It’s too vulnerable, too you. It’s only meant to be sung by you. It’s yours, no one else’s. You don’t need a second opinion. If things were still good between you and Harry, he would encourage you to release the song.

Maybe that’s why you set up your camera and took photos to create your own album art for the song. Maybe that’s why you watched the file slowly render in Apple Music, ITunes, and Spotify. You hover over the publish tab.

You hesitate. There’s no going back. Once it’s uploaded, there’s no way to delete it. The song is out there forever. People will link it to Harry in a matter of minutes, that much is obvious, but you don’t care. You’re doing this for you and no one else. If Harry could write songs about his exes, so could you.

You click publish, and exhale deeply as the song appears in the system.

There’s no going back.

[justcourttee]

New idea!!! Could you write a story where Mari and Tim are full-blooded siblings except Mari was taken away from the Drakes. Mari would be Dick's age in this. The Drake's finally pass away so Bruce goes to adopt Tim but he's having trouble because Marinette is doing the same. It's a custody battle. Tim is confused because he doesn't know Mari (she was taken away before she was born and CPS wasn't dealing with that family again) but Mari knows about him. Maybe Dick/Mari?

I have a feeling I took this in a different direction than you meant for it to be, but I hope you still like it :) @elements1999

Tim’s Decision

There were two things that Timothy Jackson Drake was sure of.

One, that he had never seen Dick so flustered before in his life. The poor guy was tripping over his own feet, stumbling into the court hallway as if he had been drinking all morning, his face resembling something close to the apple Bruce forced him to eat for breakfast.

And the second, well, he was sure he had never met someone as persistently, annoyingly, upbeat as Dick Grayson until seconds ago when she reached out her hand to introduce herself.

“Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I’m sorry we have to meet under these circumstances, Timothy. This isn’t my first time reaching out, but it certainly is my first time getting through. Maybe after this, we can grab a bite to eat, get to know each other?”

Tim slightly withdrew his hand, reaching out to steady a swaying Dick. He wanted to ask him what could’ve warranted this behavior from him, but he wasn’t sure he was prepared to hear the answer.

“Miss Dupain-Cheng-”

“Please, call me Marinette! I’m not married, nor am I a middle-aged woman. I’m only 21 after all. You’re 14, right Timothy?”

“If I call you by your name, call me Tim. Timothy sounds like a rich brat.”

Marinette’s giggle earned a small smile from the boy. He had no idea who she was, but her presence was soothing and he didn’t feel any immediate danger. Besides, she wasn’t the first person to approach him in the past week. News of his parent’s death traveled very quickly and many people attempted to adopt him in hopes that his fortune would be theirs.

Bruce was quick to wave them off, offering to adopt Tim himself, but before Tim could even think about accepting, CPS contacted Bruce with the proposal from one Marinette Dupain-Cheng.

“I hadn’t realized that Bruce Wayne had caught your attention. I really want to make sure that you are able to have a regular childhood or at least some resemblance of a few normal years. If you think Bruce is a better option for you, I promise I’ll pull out right now, but if you have any doubts at all, I want to let you know that I want to fight for you, Tim.”

“I haven’t made any decisions yet and considering Bruce let me meet with you, I have to assume you’re not after my parent’s fortune.”

Marinette’s smile tightened at the mention of the fortune or was it his parents? He couldn’t tell. She was definitely holding something back, but they had just met and he wasn’t in any position to be pressuring her for some answers. What he was in the position to do was knock some sense into a now drooling Dick Grayson.

“Knock it off will you, you’re heavy and gross. You’re making a fool of the Wayne name and aren’t you supposed to be my guardian today?”

Dick muttered out something that sounded like an okay, but if Tim was honest, he wasn’t sure it was anything more than a few syllables to lower his guard.

“This is what Bruce considers a capable guardian? I’m not sure I trust him as far as I could throw him. What can it do?”

Marinette reached forward, poking Dick’s cheek, enough force to snap him out of whatever daze he had been in the past hour.

“Dick Grayson-Wayne ma’am, a pleasure to meet you.” Instantly he bowed, his hand extended as if he were waiting for something that wouldn’t come.

“Mhmm, so you are Bruce’s ward? You look like you could be his blood child. Does he have a thing for dark hair and light eyes? Creepy.”

Dick’s hand clutched his chest as if he had been struck directly in his core. Marinette turned her attention from him and back to where Tim stood.

“Anyways, I believe we mentioned lunch earlier. I’ve already submitted my application to CPS and after this formal meeting, you’re free to meet up with me whenever you would like as long as a third party comes with us. Can you think of anyone you want to come with us?”

Tim glanced to the side where he could feel Dick’s puppy eyes boring into him. He wouldn’t be his first choice but if it came down to him of Jaime, he was pretty sure he had a better chance of reigning in Dick.

“Do you mind if Dick comes with us?”

Marinette’s smile was shaken with uncertainty as if she was thinking of protesting but didn’t want to overstep any boundaries. Tim felt terrible putting her in the position but he was sure that Dick was her best chance given his options. “Of course not, where would you like to go?”

The lunch moved smoothly with Tim learning so much about her. She was originally from the Gotham foster system herself, but a young couple who couldn’t have kids adopted her at a younger age, moving her to Paris with them. She attended the equivalent of middle and high school over there where she met many lifelong friends. Starting late in her middle school years, she upstarted a fashion business where she had several big-name clients months into her start-up. Now she made personal designs, but many were taken care of by her team. She only stitched a very few commissions for close personal friends.

She was remarkable, someone who truly started from nothing. His parents did something similar as did Bruce’s. It was something he wanted for himself, something he wasn’t sure he could ever achieve with either his or Bruce’s fortune.

The custody battle was put on hold at Tim’s request. He was really intrigued by Marinette and Bruce pressuring him to take his time and really think over his choices finally led him to that decision. However, no matter how much Bruce tried to be a neutral party in the matter, Tim could feel the strain it put on their work relationship.

The more he saw Marinette, the more mess-ups occurred on patrol. Bruce would constantly tread into Tim’s area, always dropping in on his battles. It was as if he lost all trust in Tim as if he was trying to rely less on him, trying to go back to doing things on his own.

It was so frustrating. No matter how many times he told Bruce that he could still be Robin no matter who he chose, it seemed to mean nothing to him. He continually waved him off, claiming to have no idea what he was talking about.

A month after he met Marinette, Tim snuck out for the first time, begging her to meet him at a coffee shop near her hotel.

“Tim, this is dangerous. If CPS finds out we meet behind Bruce’s back, it could nullify my application.”

“I know, I know.” His head dropped to the table, buried in his arms trying to suffocate his frustration. “I just needed to get away from all of them. I think the fact that I consider you a serious option really upsets Bruce. It’s not that I don’t consider him a serious option as well, it’s just-he’s just-”

Tim let out a sigh, slowly sitting back up unsure where his thoughts were taking him.

“Tim,” Marinette reached across the table, laying her hand on his arm. “if this is too stressful for you, I can pull out of this.”

Her touch was so gentle, so soothing. It felt like the mother he never had, the kind of mother he yearned for but never realized. He really didn’t want her to leave his life just because he couldn’t give up being Robin.

“I just feel so selfish,” his vision started to blur, Marinette’s figure coming in and out of focus. “I want to keep the life I’ve made for myself here, but I also don’t feel like I can grow the way I want to under Bruce’s supervision.”

Marinette didn’t say anything for a moment, she just allowed him to cry, her thumb moving in small circles on his arm. Tim reveled in the feeling, reveled in the silence. He hadn’t had this in a while, he hadn’t had comfort for as long as he could remember. Even at his parent’s funeral, people just commented on how strong he was and how smart he was and told him he would be just fine. Not once did anyone try to hug him or ask if he was okay. They just assumed.

Everyone always just assumed.

“Tim, I haven’t been 100% honest with you since I met you. I didn’t want it to mess with your decision, but I think it’s time you knew.”

“I already know.” Tim moved his arms from her touch, his heart throbbing from the loss of touch. “I did my research on you, especially considering how Bruce let me meet you so quickly. You’ve done a lot of work to bury it, but the Will mentioned you, or at least your old name.”

Marinette’s smile was tight, her eyes as watery as his.

“Is that what’s holding you back from making the decision you want to make?”

Tim wanted to deny that he had no clear choice, but that was a lie he had been feeding himself. He wanted to stay with Bruce, in Gotham. His life was here, his friends were here, his passions were here. The only thing that wasn’t, was her.

“I want Bruce to be my official guardian. I want to be Tim Drake-Wayne.” Marinette nodded, understanding pouring from her and crashing into him. He felt like all the stress from the past month had been pushed out and replaced with relief. “But I really did want to get to know you, I didn’t want to make a decision because you would be out of my life for good. I’ve already lost you once, CPS took you didn’t they?”

“Right before mom became pregnant with you. I’m sure it happened to you too, but I was only six. They left me alone, not even a butler or maid to watch after me. They tried to argue with CPS that I was a competent child who could handle groceries and looking after myself but they didn’t buy it. My existence hadn’t even been released to the public so they didn’t take it too hard, losing me that is. But you, they immediately brought you into the limelight, almost like a challenge to CPS, I’m assuming that’s why they didn’t get involved for you no matter how many times my parent’s called and reported them.”

Tim couldn’t help the chuckle that bubbled out. It seemed to have shocked Marinette too as she gave way to her own giggle threatening to spill.

“Marinette, can I ask you something selfish?”

“Of course, mon frère.” Her hand reached back across the table, gripping his tightly as if pressing him to ask the question he dreaded most.

“Will you still be apart of my life? I’m not asking you to move to Gotham, but maybe a monthly trip? A weekly dinner? Something? I just don’t want to lose you again.”

The tears that had been pooling in her eyes finally slipped free, her smile blinding.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

“Bruce, Marinette is coming over for game night tonight!”

“Marinette?” Dick’s head popped around the corner, the red plastered by the mere mention of her name. It sickened Tim. “But I have patrol tonight! Bruce can’t the police do their jobs for one night!”

Bruce chuckled as he set up the table, a stack of every board game imaginable piled in the middle.

“I suppose you can push it back from 11 to 5 to 2 to 5. After all, I’m not heartless.”

Tim let out an involuntary groan as he slipped into the couch, wishing it would swallow him whole.

“Whose side are you on here Bruce? She’s already your honorable daughter. Do you really need her to be part of your legal family that bad?”

“I haven’t the slightest clue what you mean.” His smirk only made Tim want to fold in on himself even more.

“Bruce, if you’re gonna set me up, can it at least be with Tim’s more attractive siblings? Like what about that Jason guy? Or Barbara Gordan?” Tim popped up in his seat, a smile beaming from ear to ear.

“Marinette’s here!” He waved her over to the seat beside him before a certain older lovebird could intervene.

“I am attractive! Why won’t you accept me Marinette?” Dick wiped away fake tears as he fell dramatically to the floor by her feet.

Tim could feel his heart overflowing for the first time in years. His life felt so fulfilled, like all of the missing pieces finally found a place. As the night continued on, only one thought stayed prominent in his mind.

He couldn’t be happier with his decision.

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[baekhansol]

beauty (k.ys)

𝐠𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞 : college au (kinda?), slice of life?, comfort

𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 : mature

𝐩𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 : boudoir photographer! yeosang x plus size/curvy f!reader

𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 : 3260 words

𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬 : body insecurities, plus size/curvy reader, nudity in a non-sexual way

𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐭 : yeosang helps show you your own beauty

𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐫'𝐬 𝐧𝐨𝐭𝐞 : despite the images, y/n’s skin color is not mentioned. I used these images mostly for the poses as a visual for you all! this was beta read by the lovely @sugasbabiie and part of @yutasgalaxy's Flashing Lights collab.

When your best friend suggested you do a boudoir photoshoot with your acquaintance Yeosang as the photographer, your initial answer was no. After a week of you feeling really down about your body image, she brought it up again, and eventually gave in. Yeosang told you he likes to meet his clients and get to know them before photographing them, so you met him for coffee.

You knew it wasn’t a date, but you couldn’t help feeling giddy about it. You had a crush on him for a while, but never had an excuse to get close to him. He’s so handsome, and you were about to let him see you in lingerie? The thought made you nervous. But before you could back out, Yeosang sits across from you with a warm smile, a coffee in hand.

“Are you okay?” he asks gently, noticing how you were staring into your cup of coffee. “We don’t have to do this if you don’t want to, you know. It’s about making you comfortable,” Yeosang softly reassures you. “I know this was your friend’s idea,” he adds gently.

“I’m just… nervous, is all. I know you’re good at what you do… I’ve talked to some of your clients before… but I just… they’re always skinnier than me and prettier,” you admit, tightening your grip on your mug.

Yeosang lets out a soft laugh and pulls a folder out of his bag. “I’ve worked with men and women of all body shapes, Y/N,” he begins, opening the folder and sliding it across the table to you. “I brought my portfolio for you to look at, and everyone in there gave me consent to share these photos, of course.”

You begin looking through the photos, thankful you were in a reclusive corner of the cafe as you do so. They weren’t erotic, but sensual. You knew the images captured the beauty of each individual. They were breathtaking, and you wanted to be one of them.

“Yeosang, you’re really good at this,” you admit, continuing to flip through the photographs.

“Thank you, I try to be,” he says, smiling.

You set the date for your photoshoot, and the day came within a blink of an eye. You had met with Yeosang a few other times after the initial meeting, as he wanted you to be more comfortable with being around him. He gave you plenty of time to go over the client agreement, and you respected how thorough the document was.

Yeosang had instructed you very clearly on what to take out to wear and how to do your makeup. So, you set out your favorite pieces of lingerie, a matching set and a bodysuit, the oversized button-down he chose, and a simple mini dress. You put on foundation and did your eyebrows, but nothing else, as Yeosang requested.

When you hear a knock on the door, you pull your bathrobe around you tighter and peer through the peephole before letting Yeosang in. It was unfair how good he looked, and you tried to force the thought into the back of your mind. He had a few boxes of what you presume to be his equipment with him, and you hope he didn’t have to struggle too much to get to your apartment. You quickly open the door, letting him inside and getting out of his way.

“Hey! Are you excited?” He asks, smiling brightly as he brings his things inside.

“I’m still nervous,” you admit, shaking your head.

“Well, don’t be. I’m here, and it’ll be fun! I promise,” he says, taking in your appearance. “I’m glad you did as I asked; that will make things easier! Now, where is your bathroom?”

You quickly show him around, and he makes himself at home. He plugs in a curling iron and goes through your makeup, glancing at the lingerie you chose and the colors he should use.

“Sit on the countertop and close your eyes,” he requests.

“Okay?” you reply, sounding more hesitant than you meant.

“I’m going to do your makeup. Do you trust me?” he asks, looking into your eyes. You merely nod, trusting him and his craft.

Yeosang’s touch on your face is gentle and calming. You feel him sweeping on eyeshadow, and he soon turns on soothing lofi music as he works. You know he is blending the eyeshadow as he takes his time, and you do your best to keep your eyes close.

“Open your eyes and look up for me,” he softly requests.

You open them, meeting his intense gaze. His lips purse in concentration, and you quickly look up at the ceiling. He sweeps eyeshadow under your eyes, blending it gently.

“Do you normally heat your eyelash curler?” Yeosang asks, causing you to look back down at him.

“It depends on the day,” you admit, watching him plug in your hair dryer and heat the curler. “And how much time I have to get ready,” you add with a slight giggle.

He tests the warmth on his hand, and you close your eyes before he could ask. Yeosang curls your eyelashes, gently setting the tool down on the sink before he applies your eyeliner. You feel the pads of his fingers brushing your eyelids before he has you open his eyes for him to put on your mascara.

He smiles at you, the masterpiece he was accentuating. “Have you ever seen a video where they clean an old piece of artwork?” Yeosang softly asks, beginning to contour your face.

“Yes, I have,” you say, doing your best to stay still.

“Well, that’s what I’m doing with you,” Yeosang explains, putting blush on your cheeks and dusting your nose with it. “You already are a beautiful piece of art, and sometimes you need a new view to see its beauty,” He tells you, picking out what happened to be your favorite shade of lipstick.

You feel yourself blushing, and you glance away, unable to meet his eyes. “You think so?” you ask him quietly, your heart thumping.

“I know so,” he answers, carefully applying your lipstick. You smack your lips together, and he smiles brightly.

“I just have to curl your hair, so you can get off now and take a peek,” he says, stepping out of your way as you jump off the countertop.

You turn to see yourself in the mirror, and are awestruck. You were expecting something less modest, but Yeosang almost perfectly captured how you normally did your makeup. He did it simply but beautifully, and you couldn’t help but gape at yourself.

As you stare, you feel him taking your brush and brushing out your hair.

“Yeosang,” you murmur, meeting his eyes.

“Hmm?” he hums, raising an eyebrow as he begins to curl your hair/

“Can you do my makeup more often?” you giggle playfully.

He laughs, and you love the sound.

“Maybe,” he says mischievously, careful not to burn your hair.

You allow him to do your hair, watching him work his magic.

“There,” he cheers, adjusting your hair before giving it a light coat of hairspray. “Done,” he proudly concludes.

“Yeosang, are you sure you’re not a makeup artist instead of a photographer?” you tease.

“I’m pretty positive, Y/N,” he laughs, turning off and unplugging the curling iron.

“So I was thinking of a few different poses, and I brought some ideas with me,” He tells you, pulling out the photos. “I figured we could do a few nude ones with you under your comforter or sheets, so I won't see anything first?” he suggests, showing you the guides.

“So I basically just hold the comforter up like this?” you inquire, getting on your bed and pulling at your comforter, facing the wall as if you didn’t have your robe on.

“Yes, and then you’ll sit up more to curve your back, like,” he pauses, finding the photograph he wants before showing it to you, “this.”

You feel insecure despite his calm demeanor, and you shake your head. “I don’t want to do any nude,” you say, your voice soft.

“That’s okay then. Instead, why don’t you change into your lingerie and put the button down over it?” He suggests instead, going to grab his equipment.

You nod, your hands shaking slightly as you pick up the lingerie and button down from its place on the bed. You head into the bathroom, shutting the door as you slip into it. Your insecurities try to get you to stop and cancel the photoshoot, but you knew at the same time you would be disappointed with yourself. Instead, you button the shirt completely before coming back out of the bathroom.

Yeosang glances over at you and smiles as he finishes adjusting the lights. He turns them off and guides you towards your window, which he had thrown sheer white shades over.

“I want you to stand in front of the window like you are stretching with your arms up. Lean forward and slightly to the side,” Yeosang instructs you.

You nod and stand in front of it, letting yourself actually stretch out your spine. You lean to one side, letting your body curve more.

“Perfect, you’re a natural,” Yeosang says, and you feel your cheeks heating up again as you hear the fluttering of the camera.

“Now I’m going to have you pose on your desk chair, if that’s okay to bring it over here?” he asks.

When you agree, he easily picks it up and sets it in front of the window, his biceps flexing.

“Just sit on it as you normally would, okay?” He says, and you sit up straight. “Is it okay if I unbutton and adjust the shirt a little?” Yeosang inquires.

“Sure,” you reply, glancing up at him shyly.

He unbuttons the shirt down to below your bra, exposing the floral lace. You feel your cheeks heat up, but he adjusts the shirt to pull down onto your arms, exposing your shoulders and offering a delightful view of your cleavage and bra straps. You look down at yourself, and feel sexy from the simplicity of the new neckline.

He steps away and snaps a few photos, and you start to feel more confident in yourself.

“Now, turn sideways when you sit on the chair. I’m going to have you pose, but will you be comfortable with taking off your shirt?” Yeosang asks, stepping back towards you.

You figure that it would be a sideways view, so you nod and unbutton it, tossing it across the room to be out of the way.

“Carefully lay on your back. Can you balance on it okay?”

“Yeah, it’s not too bad,” you laugh, carefully adjusting yourself.

“Slowly lift your legs up as you lean backwards, so your head will be lowered.”

You slowly do as he says, feeling your abdominal muscles tightening to keep you balanced on the chair.

“Curve your legs with one straighter than the other,” he directs you, gently tugging your hair out from under you. “Now hold your hair slightly to show more of your torso.”

“Like this?”

“Yes. Don’t move.”

The command in his voice stirred something inside you, but you do your best to ignore it. You were Yeosang’s client, and in the agreement, there were no sexual relations with him. You hear the snapping of the camera again, and see Yeosang moving to different positions to get multiple angles.

“I have a few more poses I would like you to try, okay, Y/N?” he says, and you merely nod. “You can stand up, since this one is also in the chair,” he tells you.

You carefully roll out of the chair as he explains, “I want you to climb onto the chair and be sexy about it, okay? Leaving a leg straight out with one in as you face me?”

You nod as he turns the chair sideways before carefully doing as he asks. You reposition your legs and body, and he opts to take pictures of each change.

“Are they coming out okay?” you timidly ask as he puts his camera down.

“I think so. Do you want to see?” he asks, showing you his camera and flicking through a few of what he has taken.

You look sexy, and it surprises you. “Whoa,” you murmur in shock. .

“Of course it is,” he giggles, smiling brightly. “Now, how about you change into that bodysuit?” he suggests, pointing to it.

“Sure!” you say, picking it up and going into the bathroom.

You do your best to change quickly, and you hear him moving around in your bedroom, presumably setting things up.

When you take off your underwear, you're embarrassed to find a small wet spot. You hadn’t thought your crush on Yeosang would do this to you now of all times. You groan slightly and make sure to throw them in the hamper as you slide into your bodysuit.

You come out shyly, and see a soft sheet on the floor with the lights around it.

“I think you’ve seen this pose a few times before. It’s where you lay on your back with your legs up on the wall?” Yeosang says, tilting his head.

“Yes, I have! I really like that one,” you admit, carefully sitting on the floor and resting your legs up against the wall.

Yeosang nods and continues, “Do you want to wear heels? I know some people do, but it isn’t always comfortable for everyone.”

You look up at him through your lashes and shake your head.

“That’s fine then,” he says with a smile, bending down and adjusting your hair around you.

He moves one of the lights ever so slightly before snapping more photographs. “You’re doing really well,” he praises you.

You sit back up as he goes to get something out of his bag and ask, “Yeosang, do you ever get aroused while taking these photos?”

You can’t see him freeze, but he does. “Do I what now?” he questions, pulling out some fabric and looking at you.

“Do you ever get aroused when taking photos…?” you repeat.

Yeosang sits on your bed, holding the fabric in his lap. “Normally, I don’t,” he admits. “Every now and then, yes.”

You nod, playing with the sheet underneath you.

Yeosang quickly changes the topic back to what you were doing, and you don’t notice him snap a few more pictures. “I know how you said you didn’t really like showing your arms, so I brought you this sweater,” he tells you, showing you the soft ivory sweater. “It was oversized on me, so it should be about the same for you,” Yeosang adds, gently setting it on the bed as he helps you stand back up.

You sit on the bed and carefully put it on with his help, avoiding smudging your makeup. It was cozy and soft, not too itchy. You pull your hair out of the neck of the sweater, and you hear Yeosang snap a few photos.

“The final prop I have are these,” he says, reaching into his bag and pulling out fairy lights.

“Oh?” you ask, tilting your head as he plugs them in.

“I’ve never done it before, and I’ve always wanted to play with the lighting on them,” Yeosang admits. “And if they don’t turn out well, well, at least we can say we tried,” he says with a laugh.

“What am I supposed to do with them?” you ask, smiling brightly. You were excited that he wanted to try something new with you.

“Just kind of… wrap them around you and play with them,” he suggests, picking his camera back up.

You nod and do as he says, laying down in one of the positions you had seen in his portfolio. You lay on your back with your legs bent, and you look up at Yeosang as your head bends off the end of the bed.

“Ohh, very nice,” he says, clicking away. “Now, try on your stomach with your legs up and ankles crossed,” Yeosang suggests.

As you move into position, Yeosang gently moves the lights around you so you wouldn’t be too restricted.

“Rest your head on your arms, but keep one out and face me,” he instructs, and you do just that. Yeosang gently fixes your hair, his fingers combing through it.

“Perfect, just like that,” he says, snapping more photos of you.

He set his camera back down, a bright smile on his face. “Okay, I think I’m done!” he says. “I should be able to get them back to you in two to three weeks.”

You nod and begin untangling yourself from the lights, and Yeosang quickly helps.

“You did really well, you know,” he assures you, smiling.

“Thank you, Yeosang,” you say, hesitating before hugging him.

Yeosang took longer packing up, but you didn’t mind. You begin to take off his sweater, but he stops you. “Y/N, please, keep it,” he begins.

“Yeosang, I can’t-”

“Please. It suits you,” he insists, his pleading look making you give in.

You purse your lips and instead slide on a pair of shorts before cleaning up your bathroom.

After he left, you laid on your bed, staring at the ceiling in disbelief. You really did just do a boudoir photoshoot with a male photographer.

Two weeks went by, then three. After the fourth week, you were beginning to worry that the photos didn’t turn out well.

When the fifth week came and went, Yeosang finally messaged you.

Yeosang: Do you think you can come over sometime this week?

You: yeah, when works for you? I’m free most of tomorrow

Yeosang: Can you come tomorrow around 8?

You: sounds good

Yeosang: see you then!

After running into traffic, you managed to navigate Yeosang’s apartment complex and find his apartment number. You adjust yourself before knocking on the door.

“It’s Y/N,” you call.

Yeosang answers it with a worried look. “Hey, are you okay? You were late,” he mentions, knowing it wasn’t like you to be this late.

“Yeah, sorry… I ran into traffic,” you explain, not meeting his eyes as he lets you in.

Yeosang nods, leading you into his studio. He ushers you to your computer, but you’re awed by the photographs adorning the walls. You recognize some as the samples, but some almost looked like yours.

“I’ve been doing my best, but I can’t seem to get them to my liking. Some of it is a matter of filters, and I can’t choose which looks best. You really are a natural,” he tells you, pulling up your file.

You were shocked by the results. You could barely believe that they were supposed to be images of you.

“Yeosang, I-” you gasp, looking at him with wide eyes.

“Yours are by far the best I’ve done so far,” he murmurs, clicking through the countless photos, some of which you didn’t know he captured.

“Yeosang, I have to ask…” you shyly murmur, your cheeks heating up. “Why did it take so long?”

This time his cheeks and ears slowly turned red. “You looked better than I thought in my sweater,” he murmurs. Noticing your furrowed brows, he continues softly, “I really liked you, even before doing these for you. It was a nice excuse to get to know you better. I know it's bad to ask former clients on dates, but…”

The question lingers for a moment, and his expression slowly turns into one of disappointment from rejection.

“Yeosang, I’d love to,” you breathlessly admit.

[jaskiersvalley]

Hair of the Dog

The problem with having a goat as a pet was that Eskel had a goat as a pet. It was usually wonderful, Lil Bleater was a menace and Eskel loved her for it. Alas, some days she was a little more than he bargained for. Visiting Geralt on the farm was always a delight, it was one of the few places Bleats could explore without a leash and Eskel knew she was safe.

All in all it was a great day, a rarity for the whole extended family to get together. Geralt had Yennefer and Jaskier with him, they were playing pass the parcel with Ciri, except whenever they unwrapped her, it was always a dirty nappy rather than a fun treat under her layers. How Eskel ended up with a family where both his brothers had two partners was a mystery, it was perhaps why he was still a bachelor with only Lil Bleater as his companion, Lambert and Geralt had soaked up all the appeal for themselves and left none for Eskel.

"Where are the Gremlins?" Eskel asked, looking around. The Gremlins were also known as Lambert, Aiden and Cahir. One at a time and they were manageable but the three together wreaked unknown havoc and destroyed an alarming number of clothes between them. If they ever wore safety pins through clothes, Eskel knew it wasn't for aesthetics at all.

"Last I heard they were heading for the barn. Cahir was going to see whether the new pony is ready to be worked yet." Somehow Geralt sounded resigned and they all knew that while the trio might have looked at the gelding, they were most definitely going to be making out or more in one of the empty stalls.

Rolling his eyes, Eskel nodded. "I'm not risking that. Tell them I said goodbye and that Lambert still owes me a drink next week, will you?" He clicked his tongue and watched as Lil Bleater blatantly ignored him in favour of hopping over puddles. Just because she was having too much fun and still full of energy despite a whole day of charging around didn't mean she got to keep going. Resigned to his fate of chasing his goat in order to get her home, Eskel lumbered off, trying to look like he wasn't approaching her with intent. Needless to say, it didn't work. With expert ease Lil Bleater avoided him, bounding just out of reach. Even worse, he brothers were watching and Eskel wanted to growl at them that they might as well help if they were going to watch. Thankfully he managed to grab his wayward goat, only for her to protest in the worst possible way, she threw herself onto the ground. Normally Eskel wouldn't mind but she chose to roll in a puddle, her white fur soaking in the muddy water and staining it.

"Well shit."

Dripping goat firmly leashed, Eskel stared at her. She watched him unrepentantly for a moment before trying to nibble at her leash. Eskel had learned the hard way that he needed a metal chain leash for her, nothing else survived her incessant chomping. There was no way he could take her home like that, and hosing her down wasn't going to be much good as she's just drip more water in the car and make it smell even more of wet goat.

Thankfully he always had a towel or two in the boot so Eskel could pat her mildly dry but the puddle hadn't been simple mud and water, only heightening the stench. Thinking about his poor tub, Eskel knew he wouldn't be able to give Bleats a bath. The one time he had tried, he'd needed to buy a new shower curtain and invest in some repairs to the tub. Little goat hooves were not compatible with his bathroom. Stashing her in her travel crate, Eskel pulled his phone out and searched for possible solutions. The most sensible was a pet groomer, alas the three numbers he tried all refused to deal with a goat. Some days Eskel cursed himself for not having a more traditional pet.

"You trying to get a groomer?" Cahir sidled up to him, eyes glinting with the promise of mischief.

"Yeah, but it's not like anyone wants to bathe a goat." Not that Eskel was bitter. He didn't expect Cahir to laugh.

"You just haven't asked the right one. Come on, I'll introduce you to someone who'll help. Just follow my bike."

It was easier said than done. While Eskel had heard stories from Lambert about the strange love affair Cahir had with his bike, it was a whole different thing to see it. Having witnessed it, Eskel had to wonder whether there were four in that relationship rather than three as he'd originally thought.

Hair of the Dog looked like a bit of a shithole if Eskel was honest. It was out in a small industrial park near a village, wooden cladding faded and looking in desperate need of a paint. Helmet under his arm, Cahir barged in without a care for the sign that declared the place closed.

"Scales!" He hollered, impatiently holding the door open for Eskel. "Got you a client."

Not quite knowing what to expect, Eskel's eyes widened when a man larger than him appeared, scowling at Cahir.

"What did I tell you about my opening hours? And fucking hell what is that stench?"

Cahir leaned against the wall with a shit eating grin and gestured towards Eskel and Lil Bleater knowingly.

"That's a goat." It was possibly the dumbest thing anyone could have said.

"No, I'm a human called Eskel," Eskel shot back, a little irked.

The laugh was warm and genuine as the owner of the grooming parlour caught on. "Letho. Who's your stinky companion?"

Somehow Eskel found himself charmed by the fact Letho didn't baulk at the fact he was being presented with a goat. He even invited Eskel to stay and watch the whole process of washing and drying his pet. What struck Eskel was how gentle he was through it all, talking to Bleats as much as he talked to Eskel.

"Wouldn't have clocked you as a dog groomer," Eskel admitted while Lil Bleater was enjoying her second rinse.

"Didn't peg you as a goat owner."

"Touche. You like dogs?" Which was a ridiculous thing to ask, given that Letho's work involved a lot of dogs and possibly a few cats. However, Letho shook his head.

"They're alright. But I wouldn't own one."

"Cats?"

"Guess again."

Eskel squinted at Letho. "I can't really say I can picture you with a parrot."

Another laugh and Eskel found himself quite fond of the raw honesty in it. He waited patiently for an answer though.

"Tell you what-" Letho suggested, "-let me finish up with my last client and then I can show you, if you're interested. It's a snake."

"I only inspect trouser snakes on third date," Eskel said, peering around. "If I had known you'd had other clients, I would have happily waited."

The spray of water was playfully turned on him, barely missing him. "It's you, you numpty. I'm closed on Tuesdays, that's admin day." A soft flush spread across Eskel's cheeks at that and Letho continued, "If I put Gully down my trousers, I don't think she'd ever forgive me. And I don't think she'd fit. She's a reticulated python."

"As long as she doesn't eat Bleats, I think we're good." Eskel had no idea about snakes but, given the size of Letho, he could imagine him with a large snake, no pun intended.

In the silence that fell on them, Eskel looked around again with a frown. "Did Cahir go?"

That had Letho looking up too. He left Lil Bleater to dry, quite thrilled at the prospect of having a fluffy goat stepping out of the dryer soon, and wandered out into the reception area. On the desk was a note.

"You owe me a drink. Maybe two. We told you you'll like him."

Groaning, Letho threw the note away but not before Eskel saw.

"That sounded ominous."

"The Three Fucketeers have been trying to set me up for a while. I resisted. Guess they win."

Grinning, Eskel shrugged. "They don't have to know that, do they?"

That had Letho looking up too. He left Lil Bleater to dry, and wandered out into the reception area. On the desk was a note.ion out no matter how hidden. Which led Eskel to the conclusion that if he couldn't beat them, they could join them. It was very unlikely they'd want graphic details so, with great confidence, Eskel met Letho's rather large snake. And he met Gully too.

[jawllines]

Sorry to be annoying but I asked awhile ago and I think tumblr ate my ask but did you ever do tattoo Harry blurb? I love them and I miss them:( I’ve looked through your tags and there isn’t any on there if you have posted one

I CAN POST ONE I WROTE A WHILE AGO RIGHT NOW :D I DONT THINK I POSTED HERE BUT LET ME KNOW HERE YOU GO PET 

i.

“Baby -- baby, c’mon!”

It was rare that Harry ever woke Y/N with more than kisses and cuddles. Maybe an abrupt shoulder shake if the both of them slept through their alarms (and, considering that they are the only ones with the key to open up their own respective stores, they never typically arrived late facing happy employees -- or in Y/N’s case, employee -- Niall, in particular, was always more of a grump in that situation than Riktor even), but even that still managed to be tender, and soft. He always treated her so delicately, as if she were made up of porcelain in the morning and it was imperative to speak in a low, soothing voice with careful touches or she might shatter. And she really didn’t think it was because she was an absolute terror to wake up -- Y/N did quite well, even as early as 5 AM she was still in somewhat of a pleasant mood, certainly nothing to be fearful of -- she thinks he’s just gentle in the morning. He’s gentle all the time, but for some reason or another, he’s extra soft with her then.

They had both had a bit of a busy day, so by the time that they made it back to Y/N’s flat (Harry said he liked it there best because it smelled like her, and -- well, he softens her up and calls her Darling when he wants them to go over there, so it’s hard to say no), both of them were ready for bed. Neither of them could barely keep their eyes open as they scarfed down the burgers they’d picked up on the way home, and once they’d finished and brushed their teeth, they toppled into each other on the mattress. Y/N would reckon they both fell asleep before their heads had even hit the pillow -- she doesn’t even remember crawling beneath the blankets.

Apparently she had though, because now as her brain tunes in with the world around her and she realizes that the distorted voice that had begun to prod her dreams was actually a grumpy, dry throat Harry, she’s cuddling herself closer in the covers. This only makes him grumble at her more, “You’re such a blanket hog,” he whines and Y/N finally blinks her eyes open, being greeted with Harry’s disgruntled, pouted face illuminated by the sunlight beginning to slip through the blinds, “I’ve been trying to unravel it for like ten minutes, but you’re all wrapped up! I’m cold.”

Y/N smiles sleepily at him, not understanding the gravity of the situation entirely as she begins to un-burrito herself from the covers, “G’morning, beautiful,” she murmurs as she does so, finally disentangling from the blankets and while she was a little less warm, Harry was quick to wiggle in beneath them, “Sorry.”

“Don’ be sweet when m’tryin’ to be angry with you,” she puckers her lips at him dramatically, and though he sighs, he leans in and presses their mouths together softly, “Your kisses aren’t g’na sweeten me up, m’still grumpy, blanket hog.”

She can only hum as she cuddles closer to him, “Sorry,” she repeated, this time adding, “Like to swaddle myself like a lil’ baby. Reckon you weren’t holdin’ me well enough last night.”

An offended gasp leaves through his lips soundly, enough that it startles her, but his arms worm around her waist and draw her closer to his body, “Brat,” he grumbled, dipping his nose into her throat, “I held you so well and you just wiggled right out of my arms and took all the covers with you.”

“Like a worm -- I wiggled out like a worm or somethin’,” she tried to sit up but his arms tightened around her, “This worm has to pee though and she’ll soak the bed if she isn’t allowed.”

His arm loosens around her, “This worm sounds like she’s a sleepy sort of delusional that requires about two hours more of rest.”

Y/N stumbles toward the bathroom in her room, “Noooooooo,” she whines, frowning at nobody, not bothering to swing the door shut before she plops on the cold toilet seat to relieve herself, “We’re supposed to go get hot chocolate, no more sleep.”

“Baby, it’s 6 AM and I’ve been up the last 30 minutes freezing my bits off!” He calls back to her and she giggles some, her eyes trying to accommodate to the bright white lights of the bathroom, “Sleep just a bit more and we’ll get the hot chocolate when we wake up next.”

She waits until she flushes and washes her hands to respond to him, and though she knows that she is definitely going to crawl back in bed and fall asleep, she stands at the foot of it with her hands in fists at her hips. He had let his eyes flutter closed by then but she thinks he could feel her eyeballing him, so he looks up past the mountain of blankets now covering him so she could only see his eyes and his nose, “What’re you doing?”

“You’re telling me, you don’t wanna go at 6 AM, three hours before the kiosk even opens to get hot chocolate with me? You must really hate me, don’t you?”

He huffs a sharp breath through his nose which is how he usually laughs in the morning, when he can’t muster up the strength to have a proper giggle, “Absolutely loathe you, baby doll, but could you please come back to bed so I can loathe you in the warmth?”

It takes little persuading -- as she said, she knew she was just going to crawl right back in beside him -- and instead of relying too heavily on the blankets to provide her warmth (like wrapping up half of it around her so she was cocooned entirely. . .this is what she normally does, and she would say that’s probably why Harry almost never has any of the covers in the morning), she relies on him. Picks up his arm so that she can fit herself underneath it and lies her cheek on his chest, “Your pits better not be smelly.”

“I make no promises.”

.                             .                         .

“I love your hair.”

“Stop it, Sweetheart, I’m g’na start blushing.”

They had slept for four more hours rather than the two Harry had originally suggested, but that always happens with them. Y/N would say that they are just too content cuddled up with one another that they milk it for all it’s worth. If one of them wakes up before the other, then they just settle their head back down and close their eyes again. Unless they had somewhere to be, of course, but Harry had a free Saturday (no clients schedule, even though Saturday’s could often be some of his heaviest days) and he’d elected to spend it with her -- whether they were awake or asleep didn’t much mater, they just liked to be near each other.

When they finally did wake up, they lazily got dressed into about thirty layers so they wouldn’t freeze outside. The weather had grown frigid quite quickly this November, and neither of them stood the cold very well, but there was a park lined with little pop-up kiosks with hot chocolate, sweets, little holiday goodies, and an obscene amount of knitted blankets (it was a clever marketing tactic, Y/N thought -- everyone is more willing to spend money on a blanket when they’re freezing cold - she and Harry had certainly fallen for it today). Y/N bought them shoe warmers to keep their toes at least not numb, and Harry lets her borrow a pair of his gloves because she keeps forgetting to buy some of her own. They both have hats fitted over their heads too, and since Harry’s let his hair grow out, his curls stick out from beneath the pumpkin orange print and Y/N can’t stop staring at it. She’s always loved his hair, she told him as much one of the first nights they’d sat on her bookstore’s floor and talked about just a bit of everything. Back when she barely realized she had a crush on him. . . .when she didn’t know that in just a little time, she would be over the moon.

And she’ll never forget that people used to make him feel like shit about his hair, so she maybe overcompensates by telling him every time she has thought about loving it. Which means today, in the span of a short three hours they’d been awake, Y/N had complimented his hair about twenty different times. If she was running her fingers through it, fixing his beanie, or just staring at him, she let him know just how much she adored his curls.

“I hate to tell you this, Button, but your cheeks are already red as apples,” she shifted the paper cup of hot chocolate from her hand closest to him to the other, so she could reach up and tuck them behind his ear, that had reddened from the cold, “The air has you more bashful than I ever could.”

“Not true,” he murmurs, lowering his voice as he knocks closer to her ear, “I always blush when you go down on me.”

“God,” Y/N shakes her head, “You’re too much, d’ya know that?”

He laughs, nudging her with the cold tip of his nose, “You want the peppermint bark? We’re coming up on the seller.”

“Of course, I want peppermint bark,” she reaches for her wallet, “I’m stocking us up for the next hundred years or so.”

Harry slows for a moment, sliding his gloved hand into her own and squeezing, “Hey,” he begins, his voice soft, somewhat reflective and it brings her attention to him at her side, “Y’know when -- you remember how you said you just get random flushes of love for me and s’a whole lot and you just don’t know what to do with it?”

Y/N nods, “Yeah, like every waking minute practically. Why?”

He smiles shyly, “I’m having one of those moments.”

“For the peppermint bark?” She teases, but his brows furrow and he swats her shoulder playfully, “Hey!”

“I’m trying to be sweet on you, and you’re still going on about this bloody chocolate,” he rubs the arm that he swats, even though Y/N has so many layers on plus the blanket that she bought wrapped around her, that he made no real contact with her body.

Y/N pulls him in for a hug, narrowly avoiding a child running past them as she does so, “Oh, you know m’only kidding. I love you too, Bug, more than words can describe and ten times more than the chocolate I reckon. . .well, unless it’s made really well this year.”

“I’ll leave you here, blanket hog.”

[sinner-as-saint]

Twilight Moments With You

Ex-mob!Bucky x Reader AU.

Run-through: You were just an innocent girl who works in her family’s patisserie. You had an absolutely normal life, until the day you got tangled in the mess between ex-mob James Buchanan Barnes and one of his enemies who is still out to get him. Things changed after that. But not all changes are terrible…

Themes: fluff, smut, age gap

That Friday afternoon, you happened to be at the right place; but at the wrong time.

-

“Dad and I will be gone by the time you get back, so make sure you lock everything well before going home. And please be careful. And lock the front door before going to bed. Alright honey?” your very worried mother instructed you while she handed you the bag that you were supposed to deliver to Mr. Barnes.

You smiled at her. Sometimes your mom made it seem like you weren’t a grown adult, instead treated you like you were 10. You lived right down the street from your parents’ house, and they were still worried sick to leave you on your own each time they left town.

“Yes. I’m not a kid, mom.” You grabbed the paper bag and grabbed your car keys. “Have a safe flight, both of you.” you waved at your parents and walked out of the shop, and drove off to Mr. Barnes’ house. By the time you would get there, your mom would’ve already called him to let him know you were coming, just like always.

You smiled at the thought of him. Mr. Barnes…

You had always thought he was one of the most handsome men you had ever laid eyes one. He was gentle and kind, and very humble. You had heard rumors going around of how he had a dark past, when he was much younger. Some even said that he was involved with the mob. Or dealt with guns and black money and what not.

But you never paid too much attention because, whenever one succeeds at life, and owns a flourishing business, and is well off – being one of the richest men in town; fake rumors were bound to follow. People just can’t help but talk trash sometimes.

To you, Mr. Barnes was just one of your regular clients. He had developed a good, friendly relationship with your parents over the years, and inevitably; you as well. He would often call and place his order, and you had the habit of delivering his order to his place. Often, when he was at home when you came by, he would ask you to stay for a little while and keep him company.

You realized long ago that he was truly amazing. Mature, wise and awkwardly funny as well. You wouldn’t lie, you did have a minuscule crush on the man. How could you not? He was perfect. Always well dressed, and perfect, fluffy hair and well maintained facial hair. He could make anyone’s heart flutter.

 There you were, entering Mr. Barnes’ house to deliver the order he placed an hour ago; éclairs and blueberry cheesecake – some of his favorites from your shop. You had also taken the liberty to throw in some scones in there for him, because you knew how much he liked it. He had mentioned it to you over a conversation once.

Only right when you stepped at the door and knocked, your phone rang. You fished it out of your bag while you waited for the housekeeper to open the door. You saw that it was Mr. Barnes who was calling. You answered immediately.

“Oh hello Mr. B-“

He cut you off frantically. “… don’t go inside! Turn around right now, you hear me.”

You were confused at how concerned and frustrated he sounded.

“What? Why?” you asked back. He had always been so calm and collected, you had known him for over two years and he had never been this way.

“Y/N, just listen to me. Don’t go inside the house, please. I’m coming over right now, it’s-“

“But I’m already at the door and-“

You two were still talking when the door flew open. And a lean, dark haired man stood on the other side.

“Well hello.” The unfamiliar man said.

You froze and your heart sank. Your hand involuntarily lowered the phone from your ear and the last thing you heard was Mr. Barnes swearing. Your heartbeat increased at the sight of the gun the man at the door held in his hand. Oh shit. Oh shit. Oh shit.

You knew immediately that something was wrong. But there was not much you could do. You couldn’t even run, this man looked like he could easily run much faster than you, plus he had a gun.

You heard a voice coming from inside. “Let her in. Can’t keep a lady waiting now, can we?” the deep voice from inside spoke up again. An unpleasant shiver ran down your spine.

The guy at the door opened the door wider and let you in. You had no other choice but to step inside. You looked around, seeing if you could see any familiar faces; one of the maids, or the housekeeper. But you saw no one. Just tons of men in black suits. Armed men in black suits.

The guy at the door led you inside, his gun in his hand by his side. You held the bag of baked goodies like your life depended on it as you walked in reluctantly. You spotted a group of people in the living room. One man sat on the couch, the others; who looked like guards were scattered all over the room.

“Hello beautiful. Do you know me?” the man asked.

You took in his appearance. Long blond hair tied at the back, deep blue eyes, large frame, muscular – he looked weirdly familiar. You stared at him until it clicked.

“You… you’re- are you…” you trailed off, unable to believe that the man who has been all over the news lately was now sat in front of you; smirking.

The man chuckled. “I’m Thor. What’s your name?” he asked as though talking to a child. You were somewhat offended.

You straightened your back and faced him with a slight frown. “What are you doing in Mr. Barnes’ home?” you asked.

Thor got up and walked over to you. You flinched as he reached out to touch your face; gently running his knuckles against your skin. He scoffed. “I see why Barnes likes to have you around, you’re a pretty little angel.” He whispered so that just the two of you heard.

You looked up and glared at him, which for some weird reasons made him chuckle. And just as he was laughing, you heard a group of people barge inside the house in a rush. A group of men; armed and led by the one and only – Mr. Barnes. They rapidly made their way into the living area while Thor’s men all turned to face them, with their guns at the ready.

  When Bucky drove into his yard, he saw that the front door was wide open. Shit. Shit. Shit.

All he could think of was you. Thor was in there, that he knew because the latter had bothered to call him and boast about breaking into his home. So Bucky called his guys and they all followed him till here. Thor wasn’t a problem; Bucky could easily handle him.

But you were unfortunately here as well. Bucky had to keep you safe, no matter what because… you were the one who had stolen his heart the minute he saw you two years ago, in that lovely shop of yours; wearing that little apron, with a bit of flour on your cheek. Warm smile, kind words and pretty eyes – Bucky was floored.

For two whole years he had tried to confess his feelings, but for some reasons, he never could. So he made do by visiting your shop more often than he should. And ordering more baked goods than one should consume. And his heart always fluttered whenever you came by to drop his order. But he never once mentioned all that he felt for you. He was always too worried; worried that if you rejected him he’d lose your friendship as well. Scared that he might put you in danger because of his past.

Just what was happening now.

As he marched over to his front door, followed by his men, Bucky couldn’t help but worry about you.

Don’t you worry sweetheart, I’m here now.

He knew Thor wouldn’t hurt you, else Bucky would have his head. But if Thor ever so much as touched you, Bucky knew he would go insane.

Bucky tried his best to hide his own gun behind his coat so as not to startle you because the last thing he wanted was for you to be scared of him. But the moment he saw Thor’s hands on you, he lost it. Bucky aimed his gun at Thor and cocked it, the sound resonated around the quiet room.

And just like that, all eyes were on him – including yours. He didn’t see fear in your eyes, so he calmed down a little bit.

“Get away from her. Now.” he sounded menacing. Cold. Bitter.

 You had never seen Mr. Barnes with a gun before. You didn’t even know he had one. But regardless, you were just happy he was here; saving you from Thor.

Thor laughed again. “There you are, I’ve been waiting for a while. Luckily I had this pretty thing to keep me company.” Thor spoke and grabbed your arm, pulling you into him forcefully. You tried to get out of his touch but he only tightened his grip around your arm the more you tried to get away.

Bucky’s anger amplified.

“Let go of her.” He threatened, maintaining his aim at Thor.

Thor smirked. “Is she your little girlfriend?” he asked. Both you and Bucky shared a look before Bucky shifted his focus back on Thor.

“She has nothing to do with this. Let her go.” He spoke, calmly and menacingly. And the authority in his voice sent a tingle down your back – not in a bad way.

Thor finally let you go. And you rushed to stand on Bucky’s side. You were sacred, but you always had a talent to hide your emotions so you seemed visibly calm.

“Go upstairs, to my study. And don’t come out until I come and get you.” Bucky ordered, and when you realized he was in fact talking to you, you didn’t even question him.

You just nodded and rushed upstairs. You had been to his house a lot of times, you knew your way around. So you found the study in no time, shut the door behind you once you stepped inside and finally let out a sigh of relief.

You set the paper bag full of baked goods aside and dropped your bag on the floor and looked around. You were panicking in the beginning, but as you looked around the vintage-style study/office, you calmed down a little.

Despite whatever was happening downstairs, you couldn’t help but walk around in Mr. Barnes’ study. The room smelt like him. Like cedar wood and citrus fruit and amber. You relaxed as you breathed in his scent and looked around the room. Large, wooden, filled book shelves. A majestic chair at his desk. Several papers scattered all over his desk. Files neatly arranged in the cabinet beside his desk. His own little orderly mess.

He even had a typewriter on his desk. Although you doubted he ever used it.

 While you were alone in his study, that gave you time to think. Were the rumors circulating around town true after all? Was Mr. Barnes actually involved with the mob? Well, the previous scene did confirm that for you but you were still not entirely convinced.

Mr. Barnes, someone so gentle and kind. One with whom you had had many conversations in the past years. One who would always see you off till his front door when you came by. How could he, someone so nice, be affiliated with the mob, and gangs, and gangsters?

You were busy overthinking and checking out the books mindlessly when you heard the door knob being turned. You panicked and turned around to face the door and relief washed over you when you saw Mr. Barnes’ smiling face.

“Hi.” He said, and walked into the room.

You placed the book back in its spot and smiled back at the man. “Hi.” You replied. Both of you wondering to how even begin to address whatever just happened.

“I’m sorry.” He said, looking down at the ground and shoved both his hands in the pockets of his coat. He had left his gun downstairs, he didn’t want to scare you.

“Oh don’t be. Please.” Your words made him look back at you. “If anything, I’m sorry. I should’ve called before coming, I didn’t mean t-,”

He cut you off.

“No, hey. I- I know you have a lot of questions and I’m willing to answer all of them. These people that were downstairs, they…” he trailed off, not knowing what to say.

“Thor, right? He’s been all over the news lately.” You had heard of Thor before.

Bucky scoffed. “He’s bad news.” He commented and awaited your follow up question.

“Are you?” you asked, then realized it might have sounded rude. “I’m sorry, but… people talk, you know?” you lowered your head in shame. Mr. Barnes was a friend of your parents and here you were, interrogating him.

Bucky walked up to you. “What do they say about me, Y/N?” there was something about the way he said your name. You liked your own name better when he said it. It rolled off his tongue perfectly.

You bit your lower lip and looked down for a moment. “They say you were one of the bad guys once. That you were, um, affiliated with the mob. That you used to lead the biggest gang the city had ever seen.��� You told him all that you had heard around in your shop.

You lowered your head again. Bucky sighed. “Look at me.” He ordered and you listened. You looked up and found yourself staring into deep, ocean blue eyes which reminded you of a stormy weather. “The rumors are true.” He confirmed.

But while he expected you to seem visibly scared, or take off running, you just stood there and nodded slowly.

Because truth is, you weren’t scared of him. You knew him, maybe not his past self, but the man he was now wouldn’t hurt anyone. You were sure of that.

“But I don’t do all that anymore. I still have my people around, just in case. Like when situations like today arises, but other than that, no. I’m a changed man.” He desperately needed you to believe him.

And you did.

“I believe you.” Just three words from you, and Bucky’s heart fluttered. Who knew that all it would take would be a pretty girl in a brown sweater, telling the ex-mob boss that she believes he’s a changed man, to make him all giddy and almost light headed.

“You do?” Bucky couldn’t believe it.

You nodded, and faintly smiled at him. “No one is defined by their past. It’s who you are now that matters. And if you ask me, I think you’re a very kind man. You’re a good person. I’m sure my parents would say the same, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky was floored. If you unknowingly hadn’t already, you definitely had him wrapped around your little finger now. And in that moment, as you looked up at him and smiled softly, Bucky knew that he would protect you – come what may.  

He smiled a little and lowered his head. “Thank you for saying that.”

You gave him another smile and checked the time on the clock placed on his desk. “I should go. It’s getting late.” You started walking away but he stopped you.

He gently grabbed you by the arm and cause you to halt in your steps. His touch was gentle and comforting – a contrast to Thor’s grip from earlier. You turned around and faced Bucky.

“Promise me you’ll stay with your parents for a couple of days. With Thor and everything… it’s not safe for you to be alone. Alright?” he hated the thought of Thor getting to you again.

Only there was one problem.

“Uh, Mr. Barnes… mom and dad are gone for the weekend.” You told him.

Bucky frowned.

“What do you mean?” he asked, already worried.

You then explained to him how there was a wedding in the family, and how your parents were out of town and wouldn’t be back until Monday night.

“You can’t stay alone. It’s for your own safety.” Bucky thought over it for a minute. “If you don’t mind, may I suggest something?”

You nodded, picking your bag up from the ground.

“Maybe you could stay with me. You can have the guest room. I’ll tighten the security anyways so, you’ll be safe here.” He added, “Besides, it’s just for a few days. You can tell your parents you’re staying with a friend or something.”

You gave it a thought. Sure, this was odd. But the thought of it didn’t make you uncomfortable, not in the least.

Bucky spoke up again. “I just don’t want you to find yourself in a situation where Thor or anyone of his men break into your home and try to hurt you. He’s a lunatic. I just want you to be safe.”

The thought of Thor possibly trying to hurt you made you shiver. And Bucky noticed, and he hated it. He wanted you to be safe, and comfortable. With him.

“I, uh, I wouldn’t want to be a bother Mr. Barnes.” You spoke, sheepishly.

He scoffed and stepped closer to you. “Of course not. But you were caught in this mess because of me. The least I can do is ensure your safety. Please, let me keep you safe.” The softness of his voice made you all mushy inside.

You thought over it again, and nodded.

Bucky smiled. “Now tell me, what do you need from your house? I’ll have a car ready to go fetch everything you need.”

You suddenly felt very spoilt. “Just clothes. And my dog, please.”

Bucky smiled again. “Of course, doll.”

-

As promised, all your stuff was here before the evening. He had sent his assistant to pack your bags, and sent some of his men to close your shop and put up a notice that you won’t open for the weekend, and he also strictly told you that you were not to go anywhere alone for the coming few days.

You settled into his guest bedroom alright. It was spacious, and comfortable and reminded you a lot of your own bedroom so you blended right in.

As you slept at night, you thought about all that happened today. Talk about a crazy day. You went from working in your shop, to being caught in the crossfire among mob bosses, to being roommates with the most handsome man you know.

Then as usual, some of the day’s highlights popped out to you. Like how Bucky’s didn’t deny or say anything when Thor asked if you were his girlfriend. Or how he called you ‘doll’ earlier, so effortlessly. Or how he was so protective the minute he saw Thor’s grip on you.

Just thinking about all that made you giddy.

 Bucky thought of you too as he slept, with a lovesick smile on his face with because he knew you were just two rooms down from his.

He thought about how your face lit up the minute you saw him earlier, and how you rushed to his side and away from Thor. He liked how you obeyed him without a question. Such a good girl you were today. And he felt a warmth wash over him at how you weren’t judging him for his past. Instead, you trusted him enough to protect you.

 And both of you were really looking forward to spending the next few days together.

 ---

 Being in Bucky’s company was everything you expected it would be. He was great company, and could be funny as well. And you had never thought you’d be so attracted to him. You could feel your little crush on him developing into something more… intense.

The next morning, when you stepped into the kitchen; you found him making breakfast. And you never knew that a man could look this handsome while making pancakes.

And you often wondered if it was just your imagination, or was he actually subtly flirting with you? You could never figure it out. Although he did do everything in his power to make you feel at home and comfortable. He even told you that you were free to bake whatever you’d like whenever you’d like.

And the next day, at around 11 p.m. at night, when you couldn’t sleep; you got downstairs into his kitchen and began making apple pies. You tried to be as quiet as possible, and soon, Bucky joined you in the kitchen.

“Oh I’m so sorry. Did I wake you up?” you wondered if he’d be grumpy about it.

He wasn’t. He smiled and took a seat at the kitchen island.

“No, not at all. I wasn’t asleep yet, and I heard you in the kitchen so I thought I’d keep you company.” He answered with a smile.

You smiled back and went back to your pies.

This was one of the things you liked most about him, silence was never uncomfortable or awkward when he was around. It was peaceful. You two could just sit at the same table, drinking a warm drink and not utter a word, and that was okay. It wasn’t weird.

When you sat at the kitchen island a few stools away from him, both of you sipping on the tea you just made and waiting on the pies – only then did you realize how comfortable you had gotten in his house. And how comfortable you were with sharing space with him.

Out of curiosity, you asked, “Have you, um, spoken to Thor? You know, after the whole… thing?”

Bucky smiled faintly and gave that soft look which made you melt. Only this time, it also made a tingle dance down your spine.

“He will be taken care of, don’t you worry about a thing. He will never hurt you, I’ll make sure of that. Okay?” his voice was so soft and smooth that you had trouble believing that this very gentle, and caring man had such a dark past.

You nodded. “I trust you.” you said, out of nowhere. And like before, Bucky’s heart raced at your words. There were very few people in this world who trusted him so wholeheartedly. And it filled him with warmth that the girl he likes so much does.

He didn’t say anything, he just stared into your eyes and you in his. If he was close, maybe he’d even dare to lean in to steal a kiss or two. And you’d let him, you knew you would. The more he stared into your eyes, the more you realized that his eyes weren’t just blue. But they reminded you of a stormy weather over the sea. Breathtaking, beautiful and dangerous.

-

Dangerous because you caught yourself thinking and daydreaming about him all weekend long. Each time he was near, your heart skipped a beat. Each time he said your name, your mind would immediately go to filth. Each morning when you heard him grunt while he was working out in his indoor gym, your body throbbed shamelessly. And before you knew it, you found yourself crushing on him. Hard.

How could you not? He was powerful, and charming with a bad boy past. And you had always secretly been a sucker for men like that. Not to mention he was older – just your type. But you couldn’t do anything about your crush on him. He was doing you a favor and keeping you safe, you couldn’t possibly tell him you like him, could you?

 Meanwhile Bucky was suffering in silence and pining as well. Each time you came downstairs in your PJs, or your messy bed hair or whenever he found you just lounging anywhere, or in his kitchen just walking around and cooking. He wanted nothing more than to just have you in his bed, and whisper in your ear about how much he likes you and show you that he can definitely treat you better than the boys your age.

But you were always so polite and sweet to him that he felt ashamed of all the vulgar thoughts he had regarding you. But he couldn’t help it, he didn’t choose to fall for you; his heart did, right?

-

But then Sunday evening changed everything.

For the whole day, you had been feeling all warm and tingly whenever he was around. Then in the afternoon when you were in the kitchen, trying to reach the top shelf to look for a jar to put all the cookies you just made in, Bucky came up and stood behind you. He smiled softly at how you struggled to get the jar.

Without a word said, he placed both his hands on your waist and gently pushed you aside. “It’s okay I’ll get it, doll.” he said and reached up to grab the jar for you.

Your lips parted as you shivered from his brief touch, and the nickname. Bucky handed you the jar and almost smirked at your flustered demeanor. Well, well. Who knew that all it would take was a nickname to get you all worked up?

“Are you okay?” he asked, and you caught the teasing tone of his immediately. Oh… you could feel the tension and the pull between the two of you as though it were tangible.

You cleared your throat in order to sound more confident. “Yes, I am.”

He chuckled and walked away.

 You thought that this would just end up being another night where you slept with the thought of him in your mind. But then halfway through the night, you couldn’t fall asleep for the life of you. So you decided to tiptoe into his study room to grab a book because his collection was incredible.

However what you didn’t know, as you skimmed through the books on his shelves, was that you weren’t alone in the room.

“Trouble sleeping, doll?” you heard a voice ask, and you immediately turned around to find Bucky sat on the couch on the other side of the room.

“Oh,” you suddenly got very nervous and self-conscious in your little PJ shorts. “I was just…” you trailed off and ceased talking the moment he stood up and made his way to you, lazily but making your heart race.

“Just what?” he asked, stepping closer to you. His voice was low, and deeper than usual. Almost raspy and it sent another tingle dancing down your spine, and you were almost certain that you also got goose bumps just with the sound of his voice.

Luckily, you found your voice again. “Just looking for a book I could borrow.” You explained. “What are you doing up?” you asked, casually. Trying to hide your nervousness as best as possible. But he caught it in your eyes, and he saw you checking him out.

“Just thinking.” He spoke, softly. He inched forward and twirled a lock of your hair in between his fingers and then stared right into your eyes.

“About what?” you asked, getting breathless from his proximity alone.

“You.”

You felt it then. The shift in the mood, in the air; in between you two. The pull, and the sparks were more intense than ever. And without realizing, you were the one who began leaning in first. His arms wrapped around your waist as he pressed his body into yours. He leaned in as well, capturing your lips in a hungry kiss.

Remnants of his cologne filled your senses as you held him close with your hand sliding into his hair. You tugged on his hair, gently but firmly as his tongue slipped into your mouth once again, slowly stroking the top of your mouth. Your mouths moved perfectly together, Bucky nibbled on your lip and kissed your open mouth with ardor. His hand slipped under your sweater and he caressed your warm skin with his slightly cold hands; tracing the skin right under your boobs – most definitely leaving goose bumps where his fingers touched you so lovingly.

A moan escaped your lips, you whimpered through the kiss as his hand reached your lower back and landed right on your ass, giving it a little squeeze. He smirked at your reaction and did it again while walking the two of you backwards until he sat you down on the edge of his desk.

Bucky pulled away then to look at you with adoration and hunger in his eyes. “You okay, doll?” he asked, softly.

You nodded quickly. He smiled and leaned in for another kiss, this time slowly lifting your sweater up until he finally took it off and tossed it aside carelessly, leaving you in just your shorts. But neither of you minded the nudity. His lips slowly moved along your jaw and down to the side of your throat, leaving dark red marks behind on your skin.

“You are so perfect…” he mumbled against your skin, causing you to shudder in his arms. You involuntarily whined when he playfully bit your neck. He figured that must be your weak spot so he teased that area with his lips, tongue and teeth – making your arousal slowly flow out of you and accumulate into your underwear.

He was purposely messing with you, touching you but still avoiding where you needed him the most. And you were getting impatient, so you grabbed his hand which was on your waist and you brought it in front of you and dipped it into your shorts, placing his palm right on top of your dripping heat.

Bucky smirked; both turned on and surprised at your sudden confidence and behavior. He took the liberty to mess with your wet folds by gently moving his fingers around and smearing your wetness all over your clit. You moaned into his mouth and he chuckled. “Seems like you need me badly, don’t you babygirl?” he mumbled against your lips.

You never knew that you were one who would immediately feel weak in the knees at the sound of a nickname. But now you did.

You nodded quickly and he chuckled. “Such a good girl.” He spoke as he pushed you down on the table. Your legs dangled at the edge of the table as he took your shorts off in no time. He smirked when he saw that you had no underwear on, and leaned down to leave a trail of kisses from your ankle up till your inner thighs. His beard felt rough against your skin, but you loved it.

He left dark red marks once again all over your inner thighs. His wet mouth moved from your inner thighs to your hip bones and back. He kissed you everywhere except for where you needed him the most; teasing you and making you whine in need and desperation.

You tangled your fingers into his hair and guided his face to your dripping core. He looked up at you and smirked again as he grabbed your right leg and hooked it over his shoulder. The moment his mouth touched you, you let out a moan. His lips moved along your wet folds as his tongue teased your entrance. His facial hair scratched your sensitive skin, as your arousal spread all over his mouth and chin.

He secured your leg over his shoulder and he ate you out passionately, closing his eyes and savoring your taste. He made you forget about the rest of the world, like nothing else mattered other than the two of you. He kept teasing your core with his mouth and soon, you were a nothing but a wet, moaning mess under him. He lifted his mouth off of you as he felt your orgasm building. He pushed his two fingers past your entrance and pumped them in and out of you rapidly. He felt your walls clench around his fingers as you moaned louder and louder with each stroke of his fingers against your walls.

You couldn’t hold back the pressure anymore so you let go and came violently around his fingers. You moaned out loud as you came, and Bucky placed his mouth on your wet core once again, to lap up everything you had to offer. He licked each and every drop of your cum as it spilled out of you.

Your body trembled on his desk as he stood up and lowered his pants. He chuckled as you struggled to sit up, and moved forward to wrap his arms around you as you wrapped your legs around him. You smiled shyly up at him. He smiled down at you before pushing you back down on the table.

Bucky leaned down and his mouth latched on to one of your nipples. He sucked on it gently as his teeth teased the bud and your back arched off the table in pleasure; whining. Your hands found their way into his hair and you tugged on his hair softly, making him groan. He kissed his way up to your neck once again as he aligned his cock to your core. You could feel his tip, leaking with precum, slightly pressing against your clit. Slowly, he slipped inside of you, groaning at how tight you were. You felt his length stretching you out entirely.

He panted as he started rocking in and out of you slowly, carefully watching your face intently – looking for any signs of discomfort. Finding none, he sped up. You moaned out loud, feeling all of him; stretching you, filling you up, moving rapidly in and out of you to the point where the only thing you could focus on was his body.

“Fuck… you feel so good…” he whispered, pounding into you relentlessly, as he bent down to kiss your open mouth, swallowing all your moans and mewls in the process. You whined upon hearing the wet, slapping sounds your bodies made when they came in contact with one another. Mixed with his scent and the growls leaving his mouth, it was all too sinful.

“You’re all mine, you hear me?” he asked, driven by his lust and passion for you. He stared down at you, his ocean blue eyes seemed even prettier in the dimmed room. You could only nod, unable to form coherent sentences while he pounded into you like he owned you. He leaned in again, kissing you softly. “Say it, doll. Tell me you’re mine.” he whispered against your lips.

Something about how he sounded so calm even while he was fucking you hard made you tremble under him. “I’m yours…” you whispered, shuddering under him. He smirked and sped up into you again, relishing the feeling of you wrapped around him like you were made for it.

Hearing you moan and squirm under him only encouraged him to thrust deeper into you, he wanted to feel all of you and he wanted you to feel all of him. He was relentless. He growled right in your ear as his body moved perfectly against yours. You whined; feeling a thin layer of sweat covering both your bodies as your walls milked him perfectly. A tear fell from your eye, out of pleasure. He was quick to wipe it away. He bent down and kissed your lips, pounding into you rapidly like his life depended on it.

Bucky felt you clench and tighten around him, “Come on, doll. Cum for me.” He whispered, his voice strained and raspy. Your mind was foggy by now, and it took your brain a few seconds to register and process his words.

Not even a few moments later, you felt him twitch inside of you; his cock throbbing against your walls. He came with a growl, griping your hips. You whined as you came around him as well. Swear words flowing out of your mouth like a chant as you felt his cum dripping out of you as he slowly slipped out of you. His body went limp and he fell in your arms, his body weight reassuring you that you were safe in his embrace as his body heat gave you comfort.

You both panted, trying your best to calm your racing hearts. He placed his face in the crook of your neck and his ragged, warm breath fanned your shoulder. You wrapped your hands around his broad shoulder and held him close. His bare chest on top of yours and his length pressed unmoving against your core.  

Moments later, he placed both his hands on both sides of you and lifted himself up slightly so he could look at you. He gave you a bright smile and leaned down just the slightest bit to kiss your forehead. The feel of his beard against your skin made you giggle. “Are you okay, doll?”

You smiled and nodded.

Bucky smiled down at you, “Come on, let’s go to bed.”

-

That night in his study room changed everything. The next morning, as you joined him in the kitchen for breakfast, your parents called to let you know that they were gonna be away for a few more days. They asked if you’d be alright on your own. You told them you would be. Then you told Bucky about it and he pulled you in for a kiss.

“Looks like I have you all to myself for some more days.” He mumbled against your lips and held you closer.

And as expected, the next few days were pure bliss. The next day, Bucky announced that there was no need to be afraid of Thor anymore because he had been ‘dealt with’. You didn’t know what that meant, but you didn’t bother asking because all that mattered was that he was not going to pester you anymore.

During the week, you did open your shop and you worked like you always did. But after closing, you made your way to Bucky’s place instead of your house. He insisted on it. Besides, you loved spending time with him. And sleeping in his arms at night, knowing you were safe and sound was much better than sleeping all alone in your bed.

Bucky was good to you. However, you did wonder what would happen to your ‘situation’ once your parents get back home. You often thought about it whenever you were alone at work, so you eventually asked him about it.

You found him, yet again, in his study room one evening. It wasn’t too dark yet outside, but it was dark enough that he had to turn on the reading lamp in the room. And only upon entering the room did you realized just how much you liked watching him sit on that majestic and comfy chair in his study, with the golden light from the lamp shining down on him. He looked angelic in his all brown, vintage-styled study room.

“Hi.” You spoke softly as you walked into the room.

He lifted his head up from a book and smiled immediately upon seeing you. “Oh there you are, sweetheart.” He extended an arm for you to take, “Come here.”

You took his arm and settled on his lap, like you had done so many times. You hugged him tightly and pushed your face into the crook of his neck. Bucky smiled and hugged you back, his hands casually resting on your butt.

“What is it, baby?” he asked, noticing that you seemed a little off.

You told him about all that you’ve been thinking about lately. And how you’re worried about what your parents might think or say regarding this, and how you’re worried that things would change between you and him once you move back to your home.

He listened with a smile on his face.

“Hey, calm down.” He ran a soothing hand down your back as you straddled his thighs. “I have had feelings for you for two years now. I think it’s high time I make you mine.” he smirked just a little. “So tell me, will you be mine?”

You smiled shyly and nodded, quickly hiding your face into his neck again. Bucky spoke up again, “Don’t you worry about anything, doll. I’ve got you now.” He smiled when you wrapped your arms around him tightly.

“I’m gonna protect you with my life.” He whispered against your hair and kissed the top of your head. He had been dreaming for way too long about these lazy evenings in your arms, these twilight moments with you. And now he finally had you, and he was the happiest man alive.  

[petri808]

Nalu Yakuza Au *cover art by @jmoart214 💜

1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 |

This chapter came out a little longer than usual. lemony teasing

Natsu’s secretary called her boss from the front office. “Mr. Dragneel, Mr. Avatar is here.”

“Thank you, Ms. Kinana. Send him in.”

Because no one in the organization was a computer whiz, he contracted with an independent IT person who was recommended by Yura. The guy, Jerome Avatar wasn’t skittish, didn’t care who he worked for as long as it paid well, and generally had a pleasant demeanor. As the accountant, Yura was in contact with Jerome the most, but for any major issues or changes, those had to be cleared with Natsu first. It was mostly quick, in and out of the office dealings.

Jerome shook Natsu’s hand over the desk before taking a seat.

“So,” Natsu questioned, “what brings you here today? Is there something I need to approve?”

“No, nothing new. I asked for this meeting because I came across some intelligence you might be interested in.”

“Oh?”

“I learned that your rival Heartfilia had been in contact with a new cyber security client, Mikage Kaishā who’s into a lot of shady dealings with government contacts.”

Natsu shrugged his shoulders. “Sounds like just a typical client for her, probably has her launder money for them. I don’t really pay attention to her clients because we deal with different things. But I do appreciate you telling me.”

“Should I keep an eye on them?”

“That’s fine if you believe it’s worth it. And if you learn about anything that could hurt us let me know immediately. By the way, how did you find out this information?”

“A friend in the field told me about it, then I hacked into Heartfilia’s computers to authenticate the information.”

Natsu sat forward in his chair. “You hacked into her computer? I’m surprised her employee didn’t catch that, cause I know she’s good at this stuff too.”

The man grinned. “Well, not as good as me.” He pointed to Natsu’s laptop. “If you’d like, I can set it up so you can access her system from your computer too.”

“Oh, I don’t want to tamper with her company—”

Jerome waved a hand nonchalantly to stop him. “I wouldn’t advise it either, if you touch things, that’s what’ll get attention, but you can watch what’s going on. Keep an eye on her calendar, meeting dates, whatever you want.”

Natsu sat back, rubbing his chin. The offer was a very tempting one indeed. A chance to stalk his ex through cyberspace… someone must have mentioned to this Jerome guy their history. It wasn’t exactly hidden, but not something talked about either amongst lower ranking employees. This wasn’t the first time Jerome had brought them intelligence info, so maybe he was looking to increase his usefulness, climb the ladder so to speak? Being connected to a powerful Yakuza house was certainly handy, and what better way than to tap into such a personal subject.

“That could be interesting,” Natsu finally responded. “Alright, what do you have to do to set it up? And make sure it’s nothing I could screw up accidentally cause I really don’t want her to find out.”

Jerome looked at his watch as if calculating his options. “I could do it now. Might take me about an hour if you can go without the laptop for that amount of time.”

“You have to take it back to your office or something?”

“No,” the man shook his head. “I can do it right here, so I can explain along the way.”

“Perfect.” Natsu then called his secretary and requested she double his lunch order due to an extended meeting.

While the computer tech fiddled, Natsu just sat back with his meal, watching him work. Math wasn’t his strong suit— nor academics for that matter. Growing up, his father had always told him he would be next in line as boss, so he only learned what he needed to for that world. One needed strength, cunning, street smarts, not book smarts. Though he had to admit the things these hackers could do was scary when you thought about it. Lucy was lucky in that her best friend was just a wiz at language— including computer languages. It all looked like gibberish, but the woman interpreted it almost like a savant. According to Jerome, from what he’d seen so far, Levy was not yet at his skill level, but that could easily change with time and experience like he’d been through.

“Natsu you—” Gray paused his knock on the doorframe. “Sorry, I thought the meeting would be done by now.”

“It’s fine, Jerome is hacking Lucy’s system for me right now.” Natsu responded with a grin. “Now I’ll see what she’s up to in real time.”

Gray groaned and ran a hand down his face in disgust. “I’m not even gonna respond to that. But I will tell you I told you so when it blows up in your face later.”

“Tch. She won’t know, right Jerome?”

“She shouldn’t unless you touch something.” The man answered while continuing to type.

“See. It’ll be fine.”

“You’re an idiot. Anyway,” Gray waved a hand nonchalantly as he left, “call me when your free to go over the new orders.”

“It will be fine, right?” Natsu asked Jerome a second time with a bit of anxiety in his tone.

Jerome stopped typing. “As long as you just observe they shouldn’t see you, just don’t get excited and touch something.”

“I don’t plan to; not like I’ll know how to do that anyways.”

“I’m almost finished, but do you want me to turn on her web camera so you can see through it?”

“But she won’t see me?”

“No, for you it’ll just be like watching a one-way video feed with image and audio.”

After a momentary pause, Natsu’s eyes narrowed with a mischievous grin. “Do it.”

Being able to see Lucy every day and feed his addiction was just too tempting, ‘I’m turning into a junky.’ But Gray’s words entered his mind. What if the man was right, could this bite him in the ass later? Probably… Though how bad could it really be? He really had no plans to interfere with Lucy’s business, just her personal life— and yes, he knew it sounded horrible. What right did he have to stalk his ex? None. ‘I just worry about her, is that so wrong?’ Lucy’s tough, but she’s just a woman and their world didn’t always treat women fairly. His desire to protect her bordered neuroticism, but could anyone blame him considering the underworld they worked in. ‘I’m just doing it to protect her,’ Natsu justified it to himself. Guys like Gray who haven’t fallen in love yet, ‘they just don’t understand.’ If anything were to happen to Lucy, he didn’t know what he would do. Probably move Heaven and earth and kill any in his way for what they’d done.

It took just over an hour before Jerome finished installing the spyware and making sure the systems were still secured. Just a one-way mirror that Levy shouldn’t catch unless really digging for it. Another 20 minutes were spent explaining to Natsu how to do the accessing part, including pulling up the webcam whenever he wanted to. “Or just leave it running,” Jerome noted. “It’ll just show up in this window,” he pointed towards the screen, “and as long as you don’t log out completely from your computer it’ll stay open.”

“Who turns off their computers?”

“Actually, it’s a good idea to turn them off now and then so any software updates can be completed, but since I manage your systems, there’s not really a need to.”

“Great.” The two men stood up and shook hands. “Thanks, Jerome.”

“It was my pleasure.”

When Natsu arrived each day at headquarters, the first thing and last thing he did was check to see if there was anything new or interesting going on Lucy’s side. It was like being hooked on one of their products, because the high it gave sucked him right in. But so far, he also stayed away from the video feed. Looking through her calendar or emails were cold and impersonal, but maybe the video was too close, too real, too much of a moral dilemma in crossing that line of a peeping Tom. That didn’t mean his addiction may one day require more feeding…

October had rolled around, and the air outside grew crisp and cold. It was a beautiful time of the year with the color changing leaves, reminding that winter was soon upon them. How quickly the time sure flew. The Dragneel Yakuza clan had already started preparing for their end of year Bonenkai to happen in mid-December. This plus the Shinnenkai in January were the two biggest parties the clan threw for all their members. The first is to forget the stresses of the past year, while the other was to welcome a successful new year. Natsu spared no expense on the food and drinks to take care of the loyalty and hard work their members contributed. From the emails, he knew that Lucy’s group had also started preparing for theirs. ‘Maybe I’ll crash her party,’ he mused to himself. ‘Oh, what’s this?’ His eyes fell on a new email of an appointment reminder for the next day. It was for Lucy’s monthly massage at an upscale spa. Natsu checked his own calendar and noticed he had nothing booked, no meetings, no shipments arriving— a perfect opportunity.

The next day, Natsu went to the spa early and spoke directly to the owner, paying them a nice chunk of change to allow him access and to play along. Lucy was scheduled for 2pm and arrived right on time. So, as he waited behind the scenes, the receptionist acted like normal and directed her inside. She had a regular masseuse, something Natsu knew he couldn’t fake upfront, so that person stood inside the room to greet her.

“Welcome, Ms. Heartfilia. I’ll step out while you get ready. Please lie on your stomach like normal.”

“Thank you, Kenji,” Lucy smiled. She’d been coming here for a couple years and was aware of the routine. The male masseuse had strong, but gentle hands and knew her body well by now.

Natsu had to admit he wasn’t happy to find out Lucy’s regular masseuse was a guy but held back from lashing out. He didn’t want to do anything to mess up this adventure— and oh, he planned to have his own revenge. It wouldn’t be as sexual as the soapland incident but knowing many of her trigger points meant he could do a bit of damage well enough. Now, Natsu had noted that Kenji’s voice was a bit deeper than his own, which would be difficult to fake, but the man explained he didn’t do much talking while working and played relaxing music during the session. Perfect. Natsu could just hit play and not talk at all.

“Ready, Ms. Heartfilia?” Kenji called out through the closed door.

The muffled yes was heard, and the man stepped away, leaving Natsu to his business. He entered the room and immediately turned on the pre-set music, a light instrumental with Asian undertones. It was quite pleasing to listen to. And there Lucy was under a silk sheet to cover her naked body, with her arms up and crossed, head perched on the relaxed hands, and hair up in a loose bun, revealing her beautiful neck. Natsu almost shuddered at the sight and knowledge he would get to touch her skin… it was the one thing she didn’t allow him to do at Soapland— touch. His grin grew as he rubbed his hands together to warm them before making the first move.

He moved the sheet to uncover Lucy’s lower half, up to the thighs, then applied a film of scented massage oils to his hands with a few drops over the taut muscles along her long legs, chasing the dripping liquid along her skin to smooth them over. His hands glide through several passes to the swell of her ass, then back down again all the way to the ankles, fingers applying pressure against the tendons and ligaments to gently work out any tension it encountered. Lucy sighed wispily as his hands massaged each foot, squeezing, smoothing, paying attention to each digit and every curve. His thumbs applied pressure at the arches, kneading the tight knots there from wearing heels all day long. He stayed focused on the area, her toes curling and flexing as the mewls leaching from her show their pleasure, until Natsu felt the knots give and relax away.

“Mmm, you’re getting good at that Kenji,” Lucy purred with a little huskiness in her tone.

Natsu grinned to himself as he lowered the sheet back down, so she stayed warm and moved onto her supple ass. Using both hands, he took his time to knead each cheek through the silken fabric, using his fingers to follow the gluteus muscles, starting near the leg, and following the swell of her curve upwards, slowly riding the fibers looking for any knots or tense areas. One cheek, then the other paying loving attention to and listening to the sounds Lucy made to clue him in on where to go. Every sigh a notch in his belt, each mewling purr a win. Natsu grew bolder, fanning out his thumb each time it got closer to her thighs to touch…

“Oh, Kenji,” Lucy whined, “you’re being a naughty boy today— keep it up.”

‘What?!’ Natsu’s hands paused and tensed for a split second before catching himself. Does Kenji mess with her too?! He shook his head and finished up in the area quickly trying not to let such thoughts stop him. ‘Just focus…’ Natsu grumbled in his head.

After applying more oil to his hands, he moved the sheet down to reveal Lucy’s back and for a second time, Natsu paused on what it contained. Her tattoo… It symbolized… he took a deep breath and dropped more oil on to the skin, willing away the memories breaching his mind. He didn’t want to think about it, not now. It was too painful.

“You okay, Kenji?” Lucy questioned as if noticing the slight pause or tremble in the man’s hands.

Natsu mumbled a soft Mmhmm and dived into the massage so Lucy wouldn’t grow more concerned, missing the uptick in the corners of her lips. He slowly smoothed along the skin using the base of his palms for pressure, each hand following the muscles, moving out from the waist, up the center of her back, and flaring out towards the sides just below the shoulder blades, repeating the same movement, each time increasing the speed while lessening the pressure. Next, he targeted the upper back and shoulder blades, an area he knew Lucy held a lot of tension from carrying the weight of her voluptuous bosoms. With precise ministrations, Natsu applied careful pressure with his thumbs and follows the curve of the blades up and around to the top of the shoulder. He then searched with the pads of his fingers for any knots along her trap muscles, moving up along the spine and fanning out to the top of her shoulders.

“Oh, yeah, right there,” Lucy mewled when he reached a specific spot.

The area around her spine, between the shoulder blades held the most tension and knots from constantly holding the upright, flexed posture that wearing heels will create. Her wispy sighs signaled the release of her tense muscles, bringing another wave of pride swelling in him. Natsu continued onto her neck, his strong hands kneaded the supple flesh, fingers palpating and soothing all the knots. Her neck too, held a few tense areas, especially around the base of the head, so he did his best to melt them away. He worked through Lucy’s mewls and moaning sighs, almost sexual in nature, aroused and a little heated in the face knowing his handiwork brought forth such sounds. Ugh, how he wanted to hear more of it! Lucy putty in his hands and spread between his thighs, calling out his name…

“You’ve gotten better at this… Natsu,” the cocky teasing tone, snapped him out of his dream.

“Natsu?” He tried failingly to disguise his voice. “I’m Kenji, Ms. Heartfilia.”

“Uh-huh. You think I can’t tell the difference Natsu?” Lucy quipped back with a chuckle. “Kenji’s routine is very different. Plus, I knew the moment I smelled your cologne.”

Busted.

“Tch. Well, if you knew it was me all along, why’d you let me do this?”

“Making you work is my payback.” She settled back down, relaxed on her arms. “Now, chop, chop, finish the job.”

This little minx! He was the one supposed to be torturing her this time, not the other way around! “Fine, kitten.” Natsu gritted out a smile and took hold of her neck again to placate and lull Lucy back into thinking he would go along. He massaged the sides with the tips of his fingers Both hands wrapped around, and his thumbs pushing up through her hair against the muscles on the back of her head.

“If only you’d taken care of me like this before,” Lucy mumbled.

Natsu paused and leaned over her ear. “Why not let me take care of you now?”

“You know the answer to that.”

“No, I don’t know the answer, that’s part of the problem!”

Lucy sighed. “Natsu, I don’t want to fight right now. I’m here to relax, not fight. If you’re done, then leave and send Kenji back in.”

“Oh, yeah. Why? Because he’s another one of your boy toys? He gonna be naughty again with you once I leave?!”

“Pfft, I said that knowing it was you, idiot.”

“I think you live to torture me, Angel. But you’re right. I don’t wanna fight right now either, so—” Natsu leaned down quick and latched his mouth onto the area between her shoulder blades, sucking hard.

Lucy squealed and reached back frantically trying to claw at his face, but he grabbed her hands, knowing if she struggled any harder, she risked completely exposing herself. He held her for a few seconds, and once satisfied he’d achieved his goal, let go.

“Natsu! Did you put a hickey on me?!”

“This Angel,” he trailed his fingers over Lucy’s tattoo as he spoke, “belongs to me. Will always be mine,” he whispered close to her ear. “You know it, I know it, and your boy toys will know it too.”

“I hate you.”

“Nah,” Natsu stood up and covered her back up with the sheet. “You hate that you don’t hate me. It’s okay. I still love you too. See ya around kitten.”

Natsu heard the woman’s sigh as the door closed behind him and smiled to himself. He knew she didn’t actually hate him, their relationship was just complicated at the moment, never love the actual problem between them… Though, it had been a dick move to give her a hickey, but that’s what Lucy gets for leading him on like that. She could’ve just stopped the massage immediately if she knew it was him all along, so to let him go through the entire process, it was tit for tat— and hey, at least it’s only temporary.

‘It’s your move next kitten…’

[watermelonlipstick]

Nerves (Request)

This was my first request, and it was fun to write! Anon wanted a reader around Sam’s age whose nerves Dean mistakes for fear until he confronts her about them. Thanks for reading, and of course I would love any advice or critiques!! If you have a request, drop it in my inbox and I’ll definitely write it if I feel like I can do it justice. Just a little bit of weekend fluff. 

Title: Nerves

Pairing: Dean X Reader

Word Count: 2715

Summary: When helping Sam’s college friend, the reader, Dean can’t figure out why she’s so scared of him. 

gif from forgetthisbull

“Dude, Dean, I’m serious. Don’t be a fucking creep to her,” Sam said, shutting the door to the Impala and following his brother into a greasy spoon called Little Bavaria with white scalloped curtains.  

“Dude, Dean, I’m serious,” Dean mimicked in a nasal sing-song. “And when am I ever a creep?”

Sam glared at Dean in exasperation. “Please? Just please? Can I have one friend you don’t hit on?”

“Fine! Drop it!” Dean snapped, yanking open the door and pulling his face immediately into a saccharine smile for the rosy-cheeked grandma-type standing behind a cash register that could not have been made after 1983.

“Thank you,” Sam said, obviously relieved. He scanned the room before seeing her sitting in a back booth.

You waved excitedly to Sam as he walked toward you, looking like a sun-kissed and confident man rather than the floppy haired boy you remembered.

As the brothers made their way over to you, a waitress dropped off plasticized menus and glasses of water. Sam waited for you to stand up before wrapping you in a bear hug. He smelled clean and familiar in a way that made you feel slightly lighter immediately.

“I like the new hair, it looks good on you,” he said, charming as ever.

You reflexively touched your head. “Oh! Right, I forgot that was after college. You look great!”

Sam’s smile was easy and wide as he turned to Dean. “This is my brother Dean.”

Dean raised a few fingers in a weak wave, decidedly not giving you anything Sam could construe as bedroom eyes or a flirtatious smirk. “Nice to meet you. Sorry it isn’t under better circumstances.”

“Yeah, well,” you trailed off.

“Should we sit?” Sam asked, graciously offering you an out.

After the requisite coffees and Dutch babies were ordered, Sam looked across the table angelically. “I’m really sorry this is happening,” he said, his voice smooth and soothing.  It was all Dean could do not to roll his eyes, one arm slung across the booth behind Sam as he slouched back. He tried for the appearance of nonplussed neutrality. “If it’s okay with you, I think you should stick around us until we figure this out. I don’t want to leave you alone in that house,” Sam urged.

You kept the relief off your face better than you’d expected you would. You were trying to play it cool in front of Sam and his hopelessly cute older brother, but you were scared enough of going back your new house that you just repeated what they ordered, unable to focus even on the menu. As you had been doing for the last day and a half since you called, you thanked God for the small instinct to call Sam. Sam, who you hadn’t seen in a few years but was the least judgmental person you’d known in school. Somehow you knew even if he thought you were crazy he would come anyway. Now he was here, bigger and looser than you’d remembered, not making fun of or pitying the girl who thought her house was haunted, and you felt like you could take a deep breath for the first time in weeks. In a weaker moment you might’ve cried, and for that reason it was better that Sam had brought his brother. It might not have been so embarrassing to break down with an old friend, but you couldn’t ugly-cry in front of the Rebel Without A Cause at the table, all pillowy lips and long eyelashes. Distractedly you tried to remember if Dean looked this good in the two or three pictures Sam had scotch-taped to his dorm wall but couldn’t call them up. You channeled all the chill-girl energy you could muster and shrugged. “If you think that’s better, I can.”

“I do, yeah. It’s just that we don’t know what’s going on yet,” Sam offered. “If you need to get some stuff from your place, we can come with you. Right, Dean?”

“Sure,” Dean said, his tone clipped and his lips pressed tight. “Whatever Sammy wants.”

You heard a thump under the table and Dean smiled slightly more reassuringly.

Over breakfast Sam had about a hundred questions about everything you’d been up to lately. He seemed genuinely interested as you told him about the new job you’d moved here for, wanting to know more about the goofy drama between your coworkers and odd clients as though it was fascinating. You’d forgotten how much you desperately missed him until you saw the crinkles at the corners of his eyes and heard his laugh twinkle out over the coffee steam and powdered sugar. All the while, Dean seemed to be boring into you with those green eyes, sometimes adding a meaningless trite comment or chuckle but not genuinely engaging. You tried only partly successfully to ignore him, focusing on Sam and your food and how nice it was to feel safe.

3 cups of weak coffee after you’d finished eating, knowing you’d be jittery but not caring from the giddiness of the reunion, Dean took out his wallet and threw about double what you’d guessed the tab might be down in cash. “Should we go get your stuff?” he asked.

“Uh, yeah, sure,” you answered, taking one last sip before getting up from the table. A look you couldn’t decipher passed between Sam and Dean so quickly that you would’ve missed it if you hadn’t been staring right at them. You followed the boys out of the restaurant, feeling a very odd and fleeting moment of jealousy when Dean thanked and winked at the older woman behind the cash register, giving her a slow languid smile like warm honey. He was so pretty. As quickly as the thought had come over you, it was replaced with disgust at yourself. At a time like this, when your whole world was in chaos, you were worried about some hot guy—who clearly wasn’t into you from the way he was acting—instead of your own safety. You were still cursing yourself mentally when you slid into the back of the gigantic black car they’d arrived in.

Sam’s friend was cute. Like, really cute. Beautiful, even, and Dean was beyond annoyed that this was the one time he promised Sam he wouldn’t hit on one of his friends. Not that it seemed to matter, because she only had eyes for Sam. It was like she melted when she saw him, staring only straight at his kid brother all through the time they stayed at the breakfast spot. If Dean was being honest with himself, he was more than a little hurt, not used to being looked at with anything less than adoration by the women he wanted. What added even more salt to the wound than the way she seemed so infatuated with Sam was the way that she looked when she saw Dean. Dean peddled in monsters and the looks of attractive women, and he knew fear when he saw it. He’d spent the rest of breakfast with Sam’s comment about him being a creep running through his mind on a loop, careful not to lean too close into her or say anything less than strictly G-rated. Unfortunately, that limited him more severely than he realized it would.

When she got into the back of the Impala, she sat straight up like she was in a cotillion class, not comfortable enough even to sit normally in his car. Was Sam right? Was he a creep? Dean suddenly felt weird and predatory, like maybe the blood and guts of hunting was changing him in some irreparable way that people could sense. He tried to smile agreeably the way Sam did up at her in the rearview mirror and saw a shark reflected back at him. Looking quickly away, Dean put both hands on the wheel the way he thought someone non-threatening would.

It didn’t help that Sam thought something was off, which meant Dean wasn’t pulling off his act and maybe couldn’t even pretend like he wasn’t the kind of person who makes a beautiful girl’s eyes go wide in fear. Each time Sam had side-eyed or kicked him under the table, the point was re-emphasized. Dean was desperate to relax but worried he’d freak this poor girl out somehow, so he kept himself tightly wound as he took directions to her house.

By the time they’d finally figured out the problem—not, as you thought, that your house was haunted but that a coworker was in fact a witch trying to torment you—the three of you had gotten into a semi-comfortable rhythm. You were crashing on the couch in their motel room, carrying your toiletries into and out of the bathroom every morning like you were at sleepaway camp and trying to keep your clothes as wrinkle-free as possible while living out of a suitcase. Some parts of it were so nice; you were still just as grateful for the protection you felt as you had been in that café, and you had forgotten how comforting it was just to know there was someone else around. Other parts, however, were not. You hadn’t slept on a couch, let alone a scratchy-creaky motel one, for so many days since college, and you were remembering why. On top of that, Dean was so compelling that it felt like you expended half of your energy each day just trying to keep yourself from staring at him.

And naturally, the more you got to know him the harder it got. He was not only the pretty boy that was obvious from the first time you met, but also so kind and respectful, seeming to be very aware of the potential discomfort of immediately sleeping in the same room as a strange man and giving you a wide berth for as much privacy as possible. He even picked up coffee in the mornings before you and Sam got up, that first day getting a black coffee, a nonfat latte, and ‘whatever the coffee guy said was most popular’ because he didn’t know what you’d like. If anything, it felt almost as though he was being a bit too gentle, and you wondered if Sam had told Dean you were some kind of fragile and delicate bird that startled easily. When you’d asked Sam about it after a couple days, he just shrugged and said he hadn’t really told Dean much other than some stories from college. You decided to drop it. Maybe Dean was just like this, which made it all the harder not to develop the kind of crippling, blushing, oh-my-god-is-he-going-to-sit-next-to-me crush you hadn’t felt since middle school.

When the coworker had been ‘taken care of’—a careful answer from Dean that you chose not to pursue—you were left feeling unmoored. It wasn’t like you could go back to the now-destroyed house, or even imagine how you’d explain away the chaos of the last couple weeks to the few people you knew here. Sam seemed to pick up on it intuitively, and offered for you to come along with him and his brother until you figured out what you were going to do next. Like it had when he had driven across the country and tossed you the last life raft over the formica table at Little Bavaria, it felt like Sam was saving you. He seemed excited when you said you would, and was out grabbing sandwiches for the road while you and Dean packed up the motel room when Dean asked if he could borrow you for a minute.

You were so embarrassed at the small, cartoonish voice that agreed, sitting on the side of the bed while Dean draped himself effortlessly—God, how could he look so cool even just sitting down—over the arm of the sofa.

“I, uh, if you’re going to come on the road with us I think we should talk,” he started. Your pulse started thumping in your chest and you hoped you weren’t blushing as you raised your eyebrows, signaling for him to continue. Dean cleared his throat and fiddled with his ring before continuing. “Listen, I don’t know how much Sam told you before we met, or whatever, but I swear I’m really not that bad.”

You’d been focusing so hard on not looking desperately infatuated that you weren’t able to keep the surprise off your face. “Bad? Of course not, you’ve been amazing. You and Sam saved my life. I’m so grateful,” you sputtered.

“Right,” Dean said, looking slightly confused. “Then I’m sorry if I did something maybe, because I don’t want you to think I’m some, like, animal—”

You cut him off. “Dean, you’ve been unbelievably sweet, way above and beyond what you needed to do. I’ve felt so safe the entire time I’ve been with you guys, and now you’re letting me stay with you for even longer; I don’t know how I can repay you, seriously.”

Dean looked up at you, his confusion tinged around the edges of his eyes with something wounded. “Then why are you so scared of me? You jump whenever I come in the room, you only look at Sam, you don’t even slouch when I’m around. I know I can’t do Sam’s puppy dog eyes act, but come on, I wouldn’t let anything happen to you. You act like you’re waiting for me to sock you.”

You opened your mouth and closed it again, realizing you didn’t know what to say. It was hard enough to think with Dean’s eyelashes sweeping over his cheekbones like the most delicious metronome you’d ever seen, let alone process what he was saying. “I—Dean, I’m not scared of you,” you finally squeaked. His face didn’t change with the spark of recognition that would’ve allowed you to stop there with a soggy handful of dignity left, and you took a deep breath to steel yourself to continue. “God, this is so embarrassing,” you murmured under your breath. “Okay,” you started, hoping your voice sounded resolute and firm. “I mean, it’s just that you’re so cute, and cool, and self-assured, and I was worried I was going to do something weird or whatever, and now I guess I have anyway. I’m truly sorry if I made you uncomfortable, or especially feel like I wasn’t anything other than thankful for you and everything you’ve done. I’ll try to act like less of a total freak, I promise.” 

You winced, waiting for the inevitable pity from this gorgeous man who must hear these proclamations from every woman he meets. Instead, Dean chuckled, which was maybe even worse. Pity you were ready for, could swallow and heal your ego from in private, but open ridicule was too much.

“Okay, well, that was fun. Sorry,” you said, smacking the tops of your legs and getting up from the bed. Dean grabbed one of your wrists as he pinched the bridge of his nose, rubbing his eyes.

“No, wait, sit down,” he said, smiling.

You obeyed, feeling a little lump of embarrassed tears forming in your throat but not seeing a way to extricate yourself from the room gracefully. Dean’s callused thumb swiped affectionately across the back of your hand.

“That is way better than what I thought,” he insisted.  “Sam made a big deal about how I shouldn’t act like a creep to you, and it got in my head. I thought I was coming off as a total perv or something.”

His eyes locked you in like quicksand before you could answer, not pitying or withering at all as you’d thought, just soft and tender and the impossible green of a perfect matcha. “No, I’m the perv here,” you offered, attempting to make light of your shyness.

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep, sweetheart,” Dean purred. Heat swelled up into your cheeks, and Dean brought your hand to his lips, pressing a warm kiss to the back of your hand as he gazed up at you.

As you were desperately scrolling through the Rolodex in your mind for something witty to say, Sam opened the door to the motel room. You were equally and fiercely relieved and stymied as his hulking frame filled the doorway, grabbing the duffel he’d left on the tile. “You guys ready?” he asked, his smile bright and carefree.

Dean dropped your wrist and winked at you as he got up from the couch unhurriedly. “More than ready, Sammy. Let’s hit the road.”

-

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Tags: @sams-sass, @akshi8278​, @dream-believe-and-love​