#only slightly but !! just bein safe

[ddejavvu]

Tyler Owens x Shy!Reader, they somehow get separated while finding shelter during a tornado, but end up finding each other when the tornado is over🩵

I seen Twisters a couple weeks ago and now I’m obsessed with Tyler Owens🌪️🥰

Storm's Over - Tyler Owens x Reader

please send me tyler owens requests!

You've never known true relief like this before; like feeling your rattled, weary bones soothed by the mere sight of Tyler's presence. The second your eyes lock onto his ragged form, his own panicked ones scanning the crowd of survivors, you're staggering forwards, wind-whipped but otherwise unscathed from the storm you'd just endured.

"Ty," You choke, and he whirls around the face you faster than the twister itself had spun, his hands instinctively reaching out to hold you before he even sees you."

"Christ, baby." He breathes, shaky and devoid of his typical charm, "I- I thought," He crushes you against his chest, and the pressure is comforting instead of constricting, "I thought you'd maybe gotten- y'know."

"No, but I thought you-!" You cry, sobs crawling up your throat despite the danger being gone as you let yourself melt into his tight embrace, "I couldn't find you and I saw you run back to help someone, and I just thought-"

"No, I'm okay." He soothes, and the way that his hand is nearly bruising your scalp with the way he's clutching your head against his chest tells you that perhaps he isn't, but that he will be as long as you are.

"That was scary," Your face crumples against his chest, and your tearstains join the water that's soiled his shirt. It's such a simple observation, one that you don't feel the need to point out, but it's the truth, and the only thing your brain can supply.

"I know, darlin'." Tyler sighs, and you feel his hand tremble slightly as he wraps it even tighter around your waist, gripping you for dear life, "It's- bein' in the truck doesn't do it justice. It's more intense than you can imagine."

"I don't want you chasing anymore," You plead, curling your fingers into desperate fists in the material of his t-shirt, "Please, I- that was so scary, Tyler, I can't let you go out in those anymore!"

"We're okay," He reminds you, gently shuffling your embrace a few steps to the left so that a truck can pass you in the almost-ruined street, "We're okay, it didn't get us. The truck is safe, let's- let's get in there, okay?"

You're glad that Tyler has strength in his limbs still, because the tornado seems to have whisked yours away with it. He leads your slumping form over to his truck, and you grip onto its metal armor, thankful for its protection even though the storm has passed.

"Get in there, darlin'." He hums, helping to hoist you into the passenger's seat, "Put that seatbelt on, m'kay?"

"Okay," You sniffle, your voice weak and trembling, "I got it."

Tyler shuts the door when he hears the click of your seatbelt, and he's occupying his own seat as soon as he can round the front of the truck.

"The truck is safe." He repeats his earlier phrase, hands braced on the wheel as he takes a deep breath. You glance up at him with wounded eyes, curled into your seat like a timid puppy.

"You're not gonna stop chasing, are you?" You ask, and Tyler's face remains forcibly calm.

"No." He murmurs, and new tears prick at your eyes.

"Promise me you'll stay in the truck?" You ask, willing to compromise if it means he'll never feel the whipping winds on his skin again, as long as the metal giant you're nestled comfortably into is his protction.

"I promise." It's an easy one for him to make, and you reach out a shaking arm to offer up a pinky for him to link his own with.

He does, and you relish the security of feeling his own finger twine with yours.

"You're okay." He reminds you, jostling your joined pinkies reassuringly, "And I'm okay. We're okay."

"We're okay," You nod, and despite knowing Tyler won't stop chasing storms, you're confident when you say, "And we always will be."

[xenteaart]

you are not difficult

pairing: chan x reader (i wrote it with idol!chan or producer!chan in mind, but it can fit any au, really) word count: no idea but it's short genre/warnings: er, angst, hurt/comfort, implied suffering w depression, implied history of SH. also implied shitty ex. so PLS keep that in mind before you read. also, it's all good in the end. author's note: it's a self comfort thing y'all but i hope you like it too.

it was yet another night where everything felt too much and you kinda hated yourself for it. bad day, maybe some hormonal imbalance due to a certain time in your cycle, history of mental illness — it's hard to put a finger on the exact cause. you're sick of trying, anyways.

chris was, of course, right there for you, and as you were falling apart in his arms, your entire soul was aching so bad that it made you want to crawl out of your own skin. it's usually like that, everywhere in your body like some sort of extreme inflammation, except physically you're perfectly fine.

"'m sorry…" you blurt out somewhere between your sobs and cries, still unable to hold eye contact with him.

"baby, you have nothing to be sorry for," chan shakes his head and keeps rubbing circles into your back, just between the shoulder blades where the ache feels the most excruciating.

"kiss me?" you squeak. almost pathetic, honestly, but it's always been your way of checking, whether he still wants you. whether he still loves you and desires you, even at your lowest, even with your mascara all smudged over your cheeks, eyes puffy and red, lips slightly irritated and swollen. even when there's a gaping black hole where the heart is supposed to be.

chris doesn't even question it, really. he simply leans in and gives you a long sweet kiss full of both a partner's tenderness and a lover's lust, so, so willing to do whatever it takes to calm the thunderstorm inside your mind and ease your struggle.

the kiss doesn't really satisfy you, the feeling is still there.

"sorry," you whisper again as you breathe out into chan's lips but the intimate contact doesn't last long. chris frowns and makes some distance between you two to look into your eyes.

"why? baby, why do you keep apologizing?" he sounds gentle but still slightly frustrated.

"i dunno? cos 'm difficult? for bein' difficult?"

there's a silence as he blinks a few times, processing and putting two and two together.

"just because it was difficult for them to love you and take care of you, doesn’t make you difficult. you are not difficult. like, at all," he puts on his serious tone, the one he uses for you when you can't see the obvious and he has to remind you.

you don't really know what to say to that, so you keep playing with the tissue paper in your hands, ripping it apart piece by piece just to keep yourself busy and focused on something other than the burning ache in your chest.

"dealing with mental health isn't easy, that one is true, baby, but it's so easy to love you. you are easy to love. even now, looking so small and in pain but it's still you, and my duty as your boyfriend is to take care of you when you can't. and, hell, you're one of the most capable people i know, so please just let me hold your hand through it once in a while, yeah?" chan speaks slowly and quietly, as if to make every single word sink in, tenderly forcing it into your stupid lovely brain that refuses to cooperate sometimes.

chris feels safe. he feels like lighting up a cookie scented candle after a long day at work. he's the feeling of the ocean timidly licking at your feet and burying them deeper into warm wet sand. chris is the first sip of coffee in the morning and the cold side of the pillow at night. he's everything worth living and trying for.

"thank you," is the only thing you manage to say, but in the way you lean back into his embrace he's able to read a lot more.

"do you want a nice mug o' hot chocolate and some fairy bread, baby?"

this question makes you hiccup and sob once again. you nod and nuzzle closer into the crook of his neck.

[whitefeathers]

Anon because I’m shy as hell lol but big fan of how you write daddy!butcher because YOU KNOW he gets off on the idea of being like a protector/knight in shining armor. Like he’s gonna be damn sure that you’re safe, even if he gets a wee bit banged up.

dont be shy sweetheart i will NEVER judge u !

also THANK YOU you get it … daddy!butcher is a very very specific guy and honestly? I think he’s pretty much canon, we know he’s got major daddy issues and we know he’s a protector (in his own fucked up way)… it just makes SENSE for him to be a daddy dom !!

more thoughts below the cut - tw for pseudocest/ddlg , daddy!butcher, and daddy issues

he wants so desperately to protect. that’s all he’s ever wanted deep down, even if he thinks he wants revenge or violence or whatever. He’s a rough bastard so all that soppy shite comes out as aggression, but deep deep down he is a protector at his core, and needs to be someone’s knight in shining armor.

When you walk into his life you’re so pure, untainted by the violence and aggression he’s so used to. There’s no greater agenda, no malice to you - you’re just a normal girl, a good girl. That’s not to say you have no personality to you - Billy loves how cheeky you can get, and how sassy you are - but you’re just a good little sweetheart at your core, wanting to be happy and make others happy. That’s part of why Billy’s obsessed with you. You’re just so sweet.

He naturally takes on a parental role in your life, being many years your senior and the leader of his group. Don’t stare at ya phone so much, gonna give yaself a headache. Don’t stay up too late, need a good night’s kip or you’ll be a grumpy cunt tomorrow.

Little things, inconsequential things, that show he cares enough about you to order you around.

He’s sweeter on you than anyone else in his life, letting you hog the hot water in the shower every morning and pretending to be full so you can finish his dessert. He always covers up his kindness with some sort of quip - “ya need the hot water, you smell diabolical,” - but you know it’s because he likes you. The thought alone makes you blush.

He finds out about all the terrible shit your father put you through one night when you’re sharing a bottle of cheap vodka together, just the two of you.

He tells you about his own sperm donor, and laments about how he’s always wanted to be someone’s father figure, their knight in shining armor. He doesn’t mention how it gets him off to have that much control, but not in a clinical way like being a master or a sir. Being a daddy is different. It’s warm, caring, corrupted. It’s a complete control and a complete care that would prove Butcher as the capable, fucked up hero he’s always been.

“That generational trauma bollocks, innit? Want to right the wrongs of me old man. Somethin’ so nice about bein’ a daddy. I’d be fucked though,” he takes a swig from the bottle straight, only wincing slightly before putting it back down on the table and letting his eyes flicker to you. He speaks with drunken candour.

“Always wanted a little girl to take care of, little girlfriend to be mine. Same soft tone of voice when she begs for more cock as when she begs for more sappy fuckin’ cuddles.”

Your heart thuds in your chest. This is all you have ever wanted, all you have ever needed. And Butcher, the hottest older man you’ve ever met, his beard greying and his eyes stern, is basically offering it to you if you’re brave enough to read into the subtext of his words.

“I’ve always wanted to be that,” you whisper. There’s words unspoken in your sentence - always wanted to be that, for you, with you - but the subconscious way you lean closer to Butcher tells him the words you aren’t brave enough to speak.

“That so?” He hums, opening his thick arms for you. An opening, an opportunity for you to take, to cuddle into his chest and let him take control. You look up at him, scared as a deer in headlights but as excited as a puppy in heat, needing the extra guidance, the approval.

“Don’t be shy. Come to daddy.”

When your head meets his chest and your ass meets his lap, all the constant noise in your head dulls into a peaceful silence. His arms wrap around you and he pets your hair, shushing you gently, promising he’s going to keep you out of danger no matter how bloody his knuckles have to get in the process.

This is how it’s always meant to be between the pair of you.

[angelwings-crossbowstrings]

Since you said you were looking at requests could you please do something with Dom Daryl with overstimulation, breeding, and cockwarming? Maybe after the savior war trying to get pregnant or any later seasons Daryl? It’s almost 6:30 in the morning so those are just the prompts that came to me first, anything you write with them will be wonderful, thank you 🩷

If I get a Little Prettier, Can I be Your Baby?

Pairing: Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Setting: Alexandria (post Savior's War)

Warnings: Poorly written smut; p in v; cockwarming; forced orgasms; overstimulation; a hint of breeding, I guess? A/N: This request has been sitting in my inbox for weeks. Gods, I am so sorry for making you wait! I'm even more sorry that I was all over the place with this so I hope it's just good at all. I tried, Anon! I promise!

“S’the matter? Thought ya wanted this?” 

Daryl was sitting against the headboard, just as bare as you. You straddled his hips, stretched around his cock and had been for—well, you weren’t sure. He had kept you there, softening slightly every once in a while only to press a thumb against your swollen clit to quickly bring you to orgasm. Your convulsing walls brought him to fully hard within seconds. You’d lost count of how many times he’d done it, sometimes not even needing the stimulation. He would be throbbing with just as much need inside of you and still worked at you until you came, shuddering and whimpering his name like a mantra. 

“Please, Daryl, I need—”

“Ya need to sit there ‘til I say diff’rent.” His voice was low, gravelly. Stern, even. You felt your cunt clench and his hips jerk. You were so sensitive, yet still craving him. He could work miracles with those fingers but being so full and stretched without feeling him drag along your inner walls was torture. He wasn’t cruel, never. There was a safe word in place, always, no matter who held the reins. Whether out of sheer stubbornness or overwhelming desire, neither of you had ever used it.

“Yes, sir.” You breathed. Your fingers were splayed over his stomach, his muscles twitching with each miniscule movement you made, though you tried to sit stone still. 

The battle with the Saviors had been won. Negan was imprisoned. Alexandria was being rebuilt. Everyone was working together and there was, for at least the time being, a feeling of relative peace and safety. While you had never officially married, you had become Mrs. Dixon in every way except on paper, and that didn’t seem to matter much in those days. You and Daryl had talked about a family before, but always seemed to find some reason to deny yourselves. His worries of becoming his father, Wolves, Saviors, and of course, the dead. There was always something. 

It wasn’t until Daryl had been locked in Negan’s cell that he came to realize that waiting was futile. The world would never be safe. If you wanted to have children with him, he loved you enough to travel that road with you. He’d love his children because they were a part of both of you.

This? This was the first session in what would be many “practice runs.” Or maybe one time would be all it would take. 

“You’re bein’ such a good girl. Wanna cum for me again?” He smirked, tucking your hair behind your ear and letting that finger carve a trail down over your collarbone, circling your left breast before he pinched and rolled your nipple. You gasped and arched your chest toward him, making him hiss when your hips shifted. 

“S—sorry, sir.” You gasped, breathing heavily from just that slight stimulation. If he fucked you now, you feared you’d cum so quickly that it’d be embarrassing. From the twinkle in his eye, it didn’t seem like you were going to have a choice. You let out a squeak as he flipped you to your back, never separating from you but punching a moan from you both with the slight friction. 

“Think I’ve had enough’a toyin’ around. How ‘bout we get to work on puttin’ a baby in that belly?” Pressing his mouth to yours in a sloppy kiss, a dance of tongues and teeth, he hooked the back of your right knee over the crook of his elbow and rolled his hips. You pulled back from him, lest you bite his lip, which he’d honestly probably rather enjoy. Another deep thrust saw your hips rising to meet his. He didn’t stop you or reprimand you, so it was safe to say this was all about the endgame.

“Fuck, you feel good.” You whined with your nails scratching over his shoulders, red marks all the way to where you settled your hands on his ribs.

“Yeah?” He knew the answer, even if he did make the next snap of his hips a little rougher. Raising your head, you nuzzled your cheek against his and placed your mouth against his ear.

“Don’t hold back.” You whispered, licking the lobe and then the spot where his pulse raced. Daryl growled, letting your leg drop. When he reached up to grab the top of the headboard with one hand and then the other, you knew you were about to get absolutely ruined.

And couldn’t have been more turned on by the thought.

With a smirk of your own, you chose to let your legs fall open as wide as they could, almost to the point of painful. You were soon digging your nails right into his buttocks. It started with a cadence of rough snaps, his pelvic bone and the coarse hair above his cock slapping against your oversensitive clit. He chuckled above you, knowing exactly why you were making those sinful little noises. Your humiliatingly slick cunt squelched with each push and pull of his cock, only adding to the debauchery that could potentially be heard by the others in the house.

You only dug your fingers in harder, drawing up your knees but keeping your legs wide open. “Come on, Dixon.” You panted, biting back a cry when the next thrust made you see stars. “I thought you wanted to fuck a baby into me. Put in a little effort.”

It was that moment, you knew you had fucked up. 

Daryl went motionless, looking down at you through that curtain of sweaty, dark hair. He had one brow arched. He never let go of the headboard but leaned down between his arms until he was nose to nose with you, the most deliciously wicked smirk lifting one corner of his mouth. 

“Ya better hold on tight, Sunshine.”

The first thrust shunted you straight up to the headboard, one hand releasing its hold on his ass to slap palm down against the wood and protect the top of your head. And then he was absolutely ruthless. Fucking feral. He used his hold on the headboard as leverage and fucked you at a pace you’d never experienced. Soon, you had let go of him altogether, both palms planted firmly against the smooth surface above you. You couldn’t stop shouting long enough to even let him know you were cumming. Once, twice. A third sparking to life low in your belly. His grunts and groans above you were just fucking delectable and you distantly wished you could focus on the sounds your pussy was coaxing out of him but the feeling of him just absolutely splitting you in two took precedence. 

“‘Nough effort for ya?” He panted, slowing only slightly, just enough for you to see him scanning you for any signs that you wanted to stop, that you needed to use the safeword. You scoffed at him. However, you couldn’t seem to speak, so close to yet another orgasm. You saw his grip loosen, knew he was getting concerned, so you communicated your consent by flattening your feet on the mattress and rolling your hips up to take him deeper, both of you groaning. He worked his way back to the same brutal pace, his cock swelling and twitching inside of you. He was close.

You were closer.

Drawing in enough breath, somehow assembling enough presence of mind, you moaned out “I’m—I’m close—Please—”

Daryl grunted, dropping down from the headboard with a hand on either side of your head. “Let go, Sunshine.” He commanded through gritted teeth. “Fuck, m’gonna cum.” You had just felt the first tendrils of pleasure rip from your core when he thrust twice more, stilling against you and holding himself deep with a guttural moan, his muscles spasming and body trembling. “Fuck!” You were too lost on whatever cloud he’d sent you to, your eyes rolled back and mouth agape. Your chest was arched into him until you felt the burn in your muscles suddenly dissipate and you collapsed to the mattress, his name falling from your lips like a mantra. 

Daryl was still thrusting into you lazily, dragging out both of your orgasms until you just couldn’t take anymore and twisted your hips to the side with a whine. He let you lie down flat again before gently, slowly pulling out of you, barely moving himself over before he collapsed into a trembling heap. You could feel his cum leaking out of you, burning as it slid across the flesh of your abused cunt.

It never failed that no matter how fucked out he was himself, your well-being came first. Rolling his head toward you, he gave you a once over. “Y’alright? Did I hurtcha? Ya didn’t say—”

“I’m so good that I don’t think I’m ever coming back down to earth, thanks.” You blinked lazily at the ceiling before turning your head, letting it lull toward him to meet his eyes with a lopsided smile. “My god, Daryl Dixon, you just rocked my world.” 

God, you loved it when he blushed. He could be an absolute beast in bed—as he had just proven—and then go red as a tomato—as he currently was. Licking his lips slowly, he turned to admire the ceiling at the same time you did. 

“I’ll get up in a minute an’ get us cleaned up.” He was finally starting to sound like he had found his lungs and put them back in their rightful place. You lazily waved a hand. “Are ya really alright?”

You nodded, smiling stupidly once again. “I may not walk right for a few days.” You moved with a wince. “In fact, when you get up to get that towel, can you grab me a wheelchair? I think you dislocated my vagina.”

Daryl, of course, looked mortified. “Oh, come on. I’m fine. Just a little sore.” Propping up on your elbows, you grinned at him. “Besides, payback’s a bitch and next time, it’s my turn.” He mumbled christ under his breath and rolled off the bed, staggering toward the bathroom while you stared intently at the perfect round of his ass. “I’ll find the blindfold and handcuffs tomorrow!”

[devildom-moss]

Signs of Affection (kiss)

Part 2 of this request (Lucifer, Leviathan, Diavolo, Barbatos, and Simeon)

(Mammon x gn!MC) (Satan x gn!MC) (Asmodeus x gn!MC) (Belphegor x gn!MC) (Solomon x gn!MC)

(Suggestive)

Word Count: +4,100 (we aren't going to talk about the size difference between these shorts okay?)

Mammon

“Geez, that sucked. Two hours of silent studyin’ for an F? I got a different F for that guy: a big ‘fuck you,’” Mammon grumbled to himself with his hands folded behind his head as he walked out of his mandatory extra lessons – or rather, they could have been classified as lessons if he had actually learned anything. Instead, Mammon spent the first 5 minutes trying to read one paragraph four times and the next 3 minutes trying to read the following paragraph before he became acutely aware that the supervising professor for today was watching him. He was clearly disappointed and judgmental of Mammon’s ongoing failure to turn the page. For the rest of his lesson, Mammon alternated between daydreaming about you – twisting your image in his head into a variety of different scenarios from innocent dates to the most depraved acts – and counting how many times he could spot the first letter of your name on the page. At least with the latter, it looked like he was reading.

“Mammon! How was delinquent rehab?” you teased him from your spot on the bench outside of the class.

Mammon shrieked and jumped. “W-what the fuck are ya doin’ here?!”

“MAMMON!” The supervisor poked his head out of the door. “Stop yelling in the hall and go home before I decide to keep you for another hour.”

“Sorry, that was my fault, Professor Amy. I startled him.” You stood up and bowed slightly, hoping the astronomy – and somehow, simultaneously, art – professor would go easy on Mammon if you took the heat.

“Oh, it’s you.” You were right to hope; Amy’s tone instantly softened. “If you’re on your way home, please take this loudmouth with you.”

“Who ya callin’ a loudmouth, man?” Mammon growled. You cupped your hand over his mouth; better late than never.

“Yes, I’ll be on my way now. I was just waiting for Mammon to finish his lessons.”

“Does being an idiot pay off after all?” Amy mused aloud – mostly to annoy the muzzled Mammon. “Very well. Be safe on your way home.”

“Alright, thank you, sir.” You smiled at him and began to drag Mammon down the hall. You only uncovered his mouth once the professor had gone back inside, and you were safely out of earshot.

“’Thank you, sir,’” Mammon mocked you. “Fuck was all that? You ain’t fuckin’ that teacher now are ya?”

“No, you pervert. It’s called being polite. You’d probably get in less trouble if you tried it with a few of your professors.”

“What’cha doin’ bein’ all polite to him for, anyway? Guy’s not even a good teacher, and he clearly has a human kink. Just stay away from him.”

“I almost never talk to him outside of our classes.” You rolled your eyes at Mammon. His jealousy had been excessive recently. As a slight punishment, you decided to tease him. “And why do you know so much about human kinks that you can recognize it in someone else?”

“Shuddup. It ain’t like that!”

“Like what?”

“I don’t have a human kink or nothing,” Mammon yelled. His cheeks burned, and he blurted out, “it’s only you.”

“Sorry, what was that?” you teased, biting back your smile.

“I didn’t say shit. Forget it.” Mammon crossed his arms as he picked up his speed just enough to walk ahead of you, hoping to avoid showing you the blush that stained his face.

“Okay, Mammon.” You dropped it, allowing him a bit of his dignity.

You both walked in silence for a minute until, finally, Mammon slowed down and started to walk beside you again. His blush had calmed. He glanced to the side briefly, trying not to draw your attention, but you noticed and smiled at him. Why do ya always look so cute ‘n happy when you’re walkin’ home with me, huh? What gives? Mammon wondered. If something as simple as walking home could make you smile like that, you were going to start charming demons left and right, and Mammon had no intention of sharing any more of you than he had to. That’s why he was so annoyed by you being nice to that professor. Just thinking about the way that demon’s face softened around you was pissing him off.

Suddenly, Mammon remembered what you had said, and his cheeks reignited in a faint blush. Nervous and masking his shyness with aggression, Mammon asked, “Hey, were ya serious about that back there – about just waitin’ for me to get out?”

“Yeah, of course I was.”

“For real? Ya waited two whole hours?”

“For my favorite hole? Yeah.” You smirked.

“Shuddup!” Mammon’s face burned. “Now who’s bein’ a perv?!”

“At least we’re even.” You smiled sweetly, as if you hadn’t just said something so vulgar – on a public street, no less.

Mammon stopped in his tracks, confidence surging in him. You stopped and looked back, confused. He grinned. “Ya must really love the Great Mammon, huh?”

“Sure do,” you readily agreed.

“I knew it!” Mammon pronounced – as if the occasional doubt had never wandered into his head. While he still had the courage to act, Mammon grabbed the sides of your face and quickly placed a kiss on your cheek. He whispered in your ear, “Thanks for bein’ so sweet to me, MC.”

Before you could register what had just happened, Mammon took off running towards the House of Lamentation. He pulled out his phone, skillfully dodging random obstacles and other demons as he appeared to start typing something. Seconds later, your D.D.D. buzzed.

Mammon: First one home gets a real kiss from the loser. Deal?

You laughed and stared down the street, watching as Mammon increased the distance between you. There was no way you were going to catch up to him.

MC: Deal. 💛

Satan

Satan was utterly thrilled when he found out the library had finally received the book that he requested two months ago. He insisted upon checking it out immediately after class, and since you had studying to do anyway, you went along with him.

With his new book acquired, Satan joined you at the small table you had settled into and began to read. However, his attention’s lifespan was uncharacteristically short despite his initial excitement. Satan’s eyes wandered away from the page, drifting up to you. Each time he tried to refocus on the book, his gaze punished him for a failure to indulge himself by lingering on you.

Few things enticed Satan more than you – especially when you got that serious look on your face. He had tried to keep reading too many times to keep track of, and now he couldn’t bear to tear his eyes away from you again. So, he just sat there, watching you read over your notes, recopying the most relevant points on a fresh sheet of paper. You were being so diligent.

One of the awful things about demons is that the alarm bells that go off in your head when you think someone is watching you are stronger and scarier when that someone is a powerful demon – and the fear your innate human senses created under the predatory gaze of a demon like Satan, whose sin was a destructive and devastating wrath, was intense. It sent a shiver up your spine, and when you looked up to find Satan’s eyes locked on your face, you jumped in your seat slightly. He didn’t need to look so hungry.

“Please stop staring, Satan.” You looked away, trying to turn your attention back to your studies.

“You don't want me to stare at you?” Satan got out of his seat across the table and took the spot right next to you. He propped his chin up in his hand and stared at you up close, eyeing you up and down with a smug grin on his face. “I want to. What's the problem?"

“It’s a bit distracting to have your eyes on me.” That was at least mostly true. There was no need to mention he was also turning you on in public. “I’d rather you not just stare at me.”

“Is that all?” Satan laughed. “You don’t want me to just stare? Very well.”

Satan leaned in, slowly shutting his eyes, and kissed your cheek. His warm lips lingered on your skin and his hot breath tickled. You could feel another chill run up your spine when his eyes fluttered back open. Even when he pulled back, his mouth hovered just over your cheek.

Another set of eyes landed on you. From a few aisles away, another library regular was stunned in their spot, mortified to have witnessed the Avatar of Wrath kissing a human in the library – not that they hadn’t seen worse. They gave you an awkward wave before turning and walking in the opposite direction, abandoning the book they had been searching for.

“Satan,” you chided him.

“What?” Satan hummed, inching closer to your ear, and whispered, “Do you still want more?”

“Someone saw.” You felt a bit guilty about it, too. Their embarrassment matched yours; in fact, it may have been even worse. “Why did you kiss me?”

“I wanted to. And who cares if someone saw? What are they going to do about a kiss on the cheek? It’s fine.” Satan placed another kiss on your cheek before returning to whisper seductively in your ear, “Besides, we’ve done worse. Don’t act so shy and innocent now. Do you need a reminder of all the things we’ve done – or perhaps you’d prefer a physical demonstration?”

What did you do to deserve this? You were just trying to study.

Asmodeus

“You weren’t waiting too long for moi, were you?” Asmo rushed to the table that you had grabbed when you arrived. He had a grin on his lips, but that charming smile was a cover for the guilt and anxiety he felt about being fifteen minutes late for your date. He couldn’t figure out which pair of socks to wear to complement his boots and skirt – and in the end, he just ended up pulling on a pair of lace stockings. Usually, Asmo didn’t care if he was a little late, but the idea of leaving you all alone in a demon-infested night café didn’t sit well with him.

“I would have happily waited much longer – especially when you show up, looking this cute.” You smiled at him sweetly, and every inch of Asmo’s body burned.

“Ooh, you little charmer.” Asmo giggled. “Did you order yet?”

“Of course not; I wanted to wait for you.”

“Such an obedient human,” Asmo teased, leaning over the table and resting his chin on his hand. He stared at you affectionately.

“I’ve never been called that in my life.” You laughed, and that only made Asmo happier to have said it.

“Want me to go up and order? Just tell me what you want – other than me, of course.” Asmo got to his feet and waited patiently for you to relay your order. With a smile and a wink, Asmo booped your nose. “Excellent. Now make sure to enjoy the view.”

Before you could question him, Asmo spun around and walked toward the register. Each step was a deliberate effort to draw your attention to his legs and ass. Oh. That view. Asmo was a hopeless flirt, but he was awfully sweet, too. Besides, you couldn’t deny that it was a good view.

Unfortunately, as Asmo returned from placing the order, he was faced with the irritating realization that he was not the only view in the café. He caught a handful of demons leering at you – and one of them appeared to be approaching. Not on Asmo’s expensive, crystal watch. He hurried back to the table just in time to cut off the tall demon, placing his delicate hand over your shoulder possessively. With a haunting smile, Asmo stared them down. He announced – more to the other demon than to you, “I’m back, hun. Did you miss me?”

A shiver ran up the demon’s spine, and their eyes went wide. They weren’t about to square up with Asmodeus over a human – not after all the rumors they had heard about bloodlust being stronger in lust demons than those ruled by wrath. The demon awkwardly tried to escape by blurting out, “enjoy your date.”

The demon scurried away quickly, and you looked up at Asmo just in time for his menacing aura to dissipate. “That was weird, right?”

“Some people just can’t act right around cuties.” Asmo dismissed your worry with a lighthearted laugh.

“So, you get that a lot?”

“Sometimes, but I don’t mean me.” Asmo leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You’re so cute it’s drawing attention.”

“I’m not as cute as you, though.” You smiled. “Now, sit down with me.”

“Actually, I was hoping we could snap a few pictures first. Do you mind?”

“Sure, I guess.” You shrugged and started to stand, but Asmo used his hand that was still resting on your shoulder to push you back down into your seat.

“No need to get up,” Asmo cooed. He took a step back and leaned over your chair so he could get right next to your face and drape his arms over you. “This position is perfect.”

Asmo snapped a few pictures. With each one, he seemed to get closer until his cheek was pressed to yours affectionately. He asked you to make a half heart with your hand and completed it with his own. Then, catching you off guard, Asmo kissed your cheek tenderly, waiting a few seconds before finally snapping a picture. He immediately pulled his phone back and stood up to discreetly examine the photo. The shit-eating grin on his face spoke for itself. He was all too pleased with it.

“What was that?” You scoffed. You probably should have anticipated that level of physical affection from Asmo, but sometimes, he still surprised you.

“Hmm? Isn’t it obvious?” Asmo looked down at you, innocently tilting his head. “I had to mark my territory.”

“What?” Your eyes widened. Sure, Asmo was always teasing you and flirting, but you hadn’t quite expected that answer. Asmo giggled and bent over, getting indecently close to your neck.

“I had to mark you,” he repeated in a low, seductive tone. “Would you rather I leave a hickey on your neck right now instead? I’d be happy to.”

“Just be a good boy and sit down.” You sighed. It wasn’t that embarrassing, but all you could do was imagine Lucifer’s voice scolding you for indulging Asmo too much in public.

“Ooh, I do want to be your good boy. Okay.” Asmo grinned, biting back the urge to call you one of a myriad of unacceptable titles, and returned to his seat across from you. He pulled his phone out and started messing with it. “See, I’m behaving.”

You laughed. Something told you that he was not, in fact, behaving. It only took a few minutes of mindless chatting while he continued tapping away at his phone – a habit you were so accustomed to that it usually didn’t strike you as rude – for your suspicion to be confirmed.

Your D.D.D. buzzed with an alert from Asmo’s Devilgram. He posted the picture of him kissing your cheek with a pink heart emoji covering your face – for the sake of your privacy. That was decent of him. You smiled softly, certain that Asmo was watching you. It already had over 6k likes by the time you scrolled down to read the caption: Ugh. My date is so cute that they’re attracting all sorts of attention. No one else deserves to see that cute face tonight but moi~ What do you think, everyone, should I mark them for myself?  

Asmo was spared a playful lecture when his name was called at the counter. You got up to help him carry the drinks and food back to your table. The barista seemed to be staring at you, but when Asmo put his finger up to his lips, they got flustered and looked away, returning to their work. Covering your face in the picture served another purpose: Asmo was hiding the gloss mark he left on your cheek. You didn’t need to know about it yet.

Belphegor

Belphie was lucky that you had chosen to sit in the back of the lecture hall where he could comfortably lean up against your shoulder and fall asleep without immediate repercussions. At least he was polite enough to nap on the shoulder for your non-dominant hand so you could continue to take notes as you listened to the lecture. Occasionally, you glanced down at his sleeping face; he looked so sweet, peaceful, and adorable.

The clock ticked down the few remaining minutes of the lecture, which was your cue to begin the wake-up process. Although Belphegor seldom cared what his brothers or the professor thought about him using you as a pillow during class, you found that it was easier to just wake him up before the complaints came rolling in. You set your pen down, pet Belphie gently, and whispered his name so that only he would hear you. A soft moan left him, and he nuzzled into your arm before leisurely opening his eyes with a content smile.

“Good morning, MC.” Belphie whispered into your ear.

Reluctantly, Belphegor forced himself upright and away from the warmth of your body just in time for the lecture to be dismissed. The professor and other students gathered their things and collectively made their way towards the doors. You, however, waited on Belphegor to shake off his nap and get to his feet.

“C’mon, MC. Catch up,” Mammon shouted from the front of the class.

“Give us a second,” you replied at a lower volume.

“Man, you two are so slow. I ain’t waitin’ around forever.” Mammon groaned and made his way slowly towards the door.

“He would know slow,” Belphie muttered just loud enough for you to hear as he stood up.

“Belphie,” you chided him, but your tone went ignored.

“Hey, can I borrow your notes later? Maybe we could review together.” There was a soft, sweet neediness in Belphie’s voice.

“Didn’t you catch the lecture in your sleep like you usually do?” Sometimes Belphie’s ability to remember things that happened around him while he was asleep creeped you out. He was like an unassuming monitoring device if he wanted to be.

“Indulge me.” Belphie knocked his shoulder against yours playfully.

“I always do, don’t I?” You sighed. That was the unfortunate effect he had on you: you always found yourself spoiling him, even when he didn’t deserve it – or rather, especially when he didn’t.

You were just about to walk into the hall when Belphie grabbed your hand and pulled you back into the classroom before the others spotted you. He played with your hand, caressing you with his thumbs. His cheeks were stained light pink as his eyes flitted from your hand to your face.

“What’s the matter, Bel?”

Belphie closed the distance between you, springing forward to kiss your cheek. The sudden movement surprised you, but it wasn’t especially shocking; Belphegor had always been physically affectionate. He inched closer, causing his hot breath to ghost over your skin. His lips curved into a precious grin as he whispered in your ear: “Thank you for always spoiling me.”

The honey-sweet tone of Belphie’s voice was undercut by a sharp yell from the corner of the room. “I saw that.”

It was Solomon. He stopped shoving his books into his bag to glare at the back of Belphegor’s head. Unfortunately for Solomon, Belphie wasn’t bothered; he simply rolled his eyes and shrugged.

“Cool shit, bro.” Belphie replied in a condescending tone and lifted his arm up in the air to flip Solomon off. You watched Solomon’s jaw drop slightly as he physically recoiled. Sometimes Solomon forgot how rude Belphegor could be. It was hard not to laugh, but you really shouldn’t encourage his bad behavior by laughing. “Come on, MC. Let’s go.”

Belphie grabbed your arm and dragged you into the hall. He was attached, and he had no intention of letting you go anytime soon. In fact, he planned to stay glued to your side until his desire for your attention was fully satisfied.

Solomon

The warmth of Solomon’s hands as he caressed your cheek was nothing compared to the warmth of his praise and your own pride swelling in your chest. Solomon hummed, “You did such a good job.”

You had successfully used a heating spell on the first try, evidenced by the warmth in Solomon’s previously cold hands. It had been a while since you got a spell that Solomon taught you perfect right away – let alone one that required you to manipulate another person’s body (and you could worry about the ethical dilemma involved with that later). Neither of you had expected you to raise his body temperature at such an ideal rate and stop at the perfect temperature. Of course, Solomon trusted you not to hurt him, but he was impressed by your control. He wanted to test you further.

“Excellent. Let’s try something similar.” Solomon began to search his shelves for the right ingredients. He continued to talk as he scanned, “I want to see if you can cool down an external object with the same level of control. If you can do it, I’ll reward you.”

“Bring it on,” you accepted. Solomon offered you plenty of praise when you did well, but he so rarely gave you an actual reward for your work. It was exciting to imagine what you could earn. Maybe he would teach you a cool, secret spell or give you a magical item. But more motivating than a reward was the idea of making Solomon proud.

“That’s my apprentice – so eager,” he mused, grabbing a bottle of glowing red liquid.

“Oh, but no home cooking as a reward,” you added, sparing your future self from potential suffering.

Solomon whipped his head around with a pout before returning to his search. He found a beaker and brought everything to his desk. By then, the pout had reshaped itself into a smirk. “I didn’t have cooking in mind when I offered you a reward, so it looks like we have a deal.”

Solomon poured plain water and the glowing red liquid into the beaker. They failed to mix. You asked, “What do I have to do?”

It was simple – or at least that was what Solomon said. All you had to do was cool the contents of the container between 32 to 36 degrees below the freezing point of water. If the red substance dipped under 36 degrees below the freezing point of water, it would become unstable. If you failed, the ice and glass would break open. Solomon didn’t tell you anything about the red substance or what “unstable” meant for it. All you knew was that you had a four-degree margin of error.

“And you’re sure it’s safe?”

“I wouldn’t put my favorite apprentice in danger for a game, would I?”

With that reassurance, you focused your magic into the beaker. As the water slowly solidified, the red liquid became concentrated at the center until it was encased in ice. You just had to keep lowering it until something felt right. You stopped and nodded. Solomon inspected the beaker.

“A beautiful job,” Solomon praised you.

“Really? What did I do though?”

“I’ll tell you once the ice melts,” Solomon waved off your curiosity. “For now, it’s time for your reward. Close your eyes.”

You did as he instructed and listened to him moving about the room. His presence got closer until you could feel his warmth. He placed a soft kiss on your cheek, causing your eyes to shoot open and your face to burn. Solomon chuckled at your response.

“I could feel your cheeks getting warm. Did I embarrass you?”

“No. I was just surprised.”

“Really?” Solomon leaned in and kissed your cheek again. “I don’t know. Your face burns under my lips.”

“You’re a terrible teacher,” you retorted. That wasn’t what you were expecting, of course he flustered you.

“Oh? That can’t possibly be true. My adorable apprentice seems to be doing quite well,” Solomon laughed, all too pleased with his successful attempt to tease you. “You learn so quickly. Should we try something even harder? Think you can handle it?”

There was a seductive tint to his words, and you narrowed your eyes at Solomon. “Same shady reward system? Pass.”

“Nope,” Solomon leaned close, trying to entice you. How were you just now noticing how sweet he smelled? Was he wearing perfume or cologne today? You didn’t have time to linger on the thought. Solomon dropped his voice, and through a wicked smirk, he added, “even shadier. If you succeed, I’ll do whatever you ask for a full day.”

“And if I fail?” you asked cautiously.

“I get to punish you.”

(gift version - Beelzebub, Thirteen, Raphael, Mephistopheles)

A/N: These ones got really flirty. . . oh well. Uhm, leave me nice comments or something. I don't know. I feel like I'm forgetting to say something. . .

[ichikopotato]

I can request tom bein’ all mean and rough on his gf? (Smut) And she’s like those coquette girls that love being dominated maybe , ty and ily 💕

now this, this is good💋

2009! Tom being rough to his couqette gf ᡣ𐭩

synopsis: your boyfriend comes home stressed out, leaving himself to only let out his anger on you. ᡣ𐭩

warnings : rough smut, spanking, usage of “baby, good girl, daddy, slut”, tom just being a meanie to your pussy, overstimulation, squirting, vibrator, overall just Tom rearranging your insides. ᡣ𐭩

a/n: we love dom tom, basically the smut version of another request (fluff version on my masterpage) -`♡´- love you all, stay safe! Send more requests, been really busy lately ᡣ𐭩

—> IT WAS A RELAXING DAY for you, atleast. Your boyfriend was at the studio, rehearsing and creating more lyrics for their upcoming album. You were preparing dinner, for you and him.

You hum a song, getting ready and all glammed up for your home date. Preparing the table when you were disturbed by the apartment door opening. You saw your boyfriend, looking stressed and angry. You smile, flinching slightly when you hear the door slam.

“Hi honey, how did it go in the stud—“ you were cut off by him roughly pressing his lips on yours, meeting in a passionate kiss. He held you close, groaning. His grip on your waist tightened as you moaned softly to the kiss.

You pull away, panting. “Baby? What’s wrong?” You mutter, gulping. “Schatzi, m’so fuckin annoyed.” He said, while placing kisses all over your neck. You feel your panties growing damper and damper.

You cup his cheeks, pouting. “What happened, Tommy?” He looked at you, smirking slightly. You felt something hard on your stomach, your face flushed as you realised what it was.

His breath tickled your ear, as he whispered “can you help me relax, baby?” You smile innocently up at him, before saying—

“Take it out on me, Tom.”

Without another word, he immediately carries you to your shared bedroom as he whispers dirty things to you. He threw you on the bed, flipping your pink mini skirt. He smirked at the sight of your wet panties.

“All wet from daddy, hmm pretty girl?” As he rubbed your clit over your panties. You let out a whimper, rubbing yourself against his fingers. “Yeah? You like it when daddy touches you like that?”

You nod quickly, as he spanks your wetness. You yelp out in surprise. “Ass up, baby.” He spanked your pussy once more. You get on all fours, raising your ass up, wriggling it infront of him.

He spanked your ass cheek roughly, making you whine into the pillow. “Behave, baby. Daddy won’t let his little princess cum if you don’t.” He grabs something from the nightstand, holding out a vibrator with the remote.

He pulls your panties down, revealing your wet folds to his hungry eyes. He groans, rubbing them roughly as he places the vibrator between them. He clicks the highest level on the remote, making you squeal and moan.

brrr.

“C’mon, baby. Such a good girl.” He coed, smiling. He groaned, removing the vibrator. He patted your pussy, smirking as he aligns himself to your pussy.

He teasingly rubbed his tip on your clit, slapping your cheek gently. “Wan’ daddy to fuck you, slut?” You nodded quickly.

Without a warning, he slammed his whole length in you, leaving you no time to adjust to his size. He pounded in and out of your pussy roughly, groaning. “This little pussy’s squeezing me s’muchh— uhnnn-“

He moaned, slamming into you faster, smiling softly down at your pretty face, ruined with tears and streaks of your mascara, your lip gloss ruined.

“D-Daddy— m’so clooosee!” You whimper, fucking yourself on him. He chuckled at your needy ness, slapping your ass. “Cum f’your daddy, baby.”

You let out a long whine, as you came all over his cock. He didn’t stop there, still thrusting into you rough and fast. You moan, squirting all over his chest.

You and him pant heavily, squirming. He smirked, playing with his lip piercing. He ran his hands through your hair, kissing you. You smile, your eyes droopy.

He wiped off the shared fluids off yours and his body, changing you into your comfortable matching pajamas. He smirked, playing with his lip piercing once more as he admired in awe at your adorable sleeping form.

“Goodnight, meine liebe. Ich liebe dich” He kissed your forehead goodnight, slowly falling asleep beside you, holding you close.

Let’s just say you both ate the dinner the next day.

RUSHED, HOPE YOU GUYS LIKE IT. LOVEYOUALL! ᡣ𐭩

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unorthodox 5

Warnings: this fic will include elements, some dark, such noncon/dubcon, and other untagged triggers. Please take this into account before proceeding. It is up to curate your online consumption safely.

Summary: you bring order to the disordered life of Captain Syverson.

Characters: Captain Syverson, this reader is known as Izzie.

Author’s Note: Please feel free to leave some feedback, reblog, and jump into my asks. I’m always happy to discuss with you and riff on idea. As always, you are cherished and adored! Stay safe, be kind, and treat yourself💜

💼Part of the Bad Bosses AU💼

“I think that’s everything,” you smile at Conrad across the table. 

Sy continues to loom and pace around the edge of the room. He’s been doing that. Hovering like a vulture. Even when you try to get him to participate, he only has grumbles and glares. You’re used to his grumpiness but lately, he’s been nearly intolerable. 

“Mm, yes, I think it is,” Conrad smirks, “shall we have a celebratory drink? Seems the old boar could use it?” 

“I’m younger than you,” Sy stomps over, his ears sharp. “So how’s that?” 

“Yes, well, one might not guess it by looking. Do relax, I am merely making fun,” Conrad crosses his arms. “Is there a reason you are so antsy to be away? I was rather happy to receive an old friend such as yourself.” 

“Nice seein’ ya and all but we gotta get back,” Sy crosses his arms. “Izzie’s got friends waitin’, don’t ya?” 

He nudges you with his elbow and you send him a skeptical look. Since when did he care so much? 

“Ah yes, so you mentioned some wonderful ladies back home. Do have a drink in my honour. Such a considerate boss, eh, Syverson?” He smirks. 

You stand and press your fingertips to the table, “thanks. Uh, I guess he’s right. The sooner we’re on the road, the sooner we’re back. It was nice meeting you. And doing business.” 

“Always a pleasure, Syverson, and I do enjoy a beautiful lady darkening my door now and again.” 

Sy growls and you try not to notice. You’re not sure if it’s territorial or what but you don’t need him acting like a guard dog. You prefer his slightly oblivious gruffness to his intense derision. 

“Thank you. You’re a great host.” 

You shake Conrad’s hand and he tugs it up. Once again, he kisses your knuckles and sends you a wink. Sy grabs your other arm and yanks you away. 

“Get on with it, Izzie,” he snarls as he drags you away. 

You stagger with his furious pace, not mentioning that he hardly bothered to give a proper goodbye. The way he’s gripping you so tight, you can’t think of much else but the creak in your bones. You dig in your heels as you get through the compound door. 

“Yow! Sy!” You yank your hand away at last. He takes a few steps before he stops and faces you. “What is your problem? You can’t grab me like that.” You raise your arm and rub the tender skin, “you hurt me.” 

“Ah, I’m-- I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to, Iz. Ya know I wouldn’t ever--” 

“But you did. What’s gotten into you, anyway? Why are you being so rude?” 

“I’m not,” he harrumphs and drops his shoulders. “I just wanna be home. Bein’ out here in all this sand, takes me back. That’s it.” 

“Is that it?” You challenge and stand straight. Even with perfect posture, you hardly measure up to the large man. 

Sy frowns, “I’m sorry, Izzie, truly. Why don’t ya give me a smack then? I deserve it.” 

You almost laugh, instead snorting, “I wouldn’t-- I’m not that sort, you know that.” 

“I do. It’s why I like ya, Iz. You temper me out. I’m a big oaf without you,” he looks away bashfully. “How about you go grab your bag and I’ll go say sorry. You’re right. No way to treat a friend. And partner.” 

You consider him and slowly nod. “Alright, I’ll meet you at the gate then.” 

“Sure thing, sugar.”  

You tilt your head at the pet name but have no time to comment. You move aside as he moves towards you and let him pass. You stare after him for a second then turn back to your path. You know how he feels. You just want to be home in your bed. Oh, and it would be nice to have cell reception. 

You find your room after a few stray wanderings and grab your bag. You head back out, still lost in the maze of the compound. You find the sunlight and walk out into the blaze of the noontime apex. You go to the gate and peer around at the mercenaries in their padded vests and harnesses. 

As you wait, you grow uneasy. You’re still not entirely used to this job. Not always. It’s easier to manage Sy’s grocery list or his forgotten appointments, but out here, in the shit as he calls it, you feel lost. 

He appears with a wave of his large hand. The fingerless glove nearly blends into his skintone from the wear and tear. You face him fully as he approaches and he points behind you. 

“Ready to go for a ride?”  

You follow his finger to the buggy just on the other end of the yard. You squint and turn back to him. 

“Conrad can be nice when he wants to,” he grins, “you wanna drive?” 

You stare at him, deeply considering the prospect. You don’t know if you trust him to make the drive and yet, you don’t if you should trust yourself either. He dangles the key from a thick finger and you roll your eyes. 

“I wanna get outta here in one piece,” you snatch it. 

He chuckles and lets you have it. He reaches for you and you wince. He grabs the strap of your bag and hauls it onto his shoulder next to his. 

“I’ll get these secured, Iz,” he offers. 

You hesitate. He’s being awfully helpful. Not that he can’t be but the last few days have been strange. You guess both of you might be getting a bit homesick. 

[unclewaynemunson]

The final part to the Wingman Wayne AU is here! (And I also decided to publish the whole thing on ao3!!!)

'You got somethin' you wanna tell me?' asks Wayne when he steps out of the trailer to join Eddie for a smoke, the door creaking behind him.

Eddie still can't believe how that man never fails to be one step ahead of him.

'Um... Can I um...' He clears his throat. He doesn't know why he's being so nervous all of a sudden – it's just Wayne, after all. 'We're having dinner together tomorrow, right?'

'Always on Sunday,' Wayne confirms. His perceptive blue eyes wander over his nephew’s face like he's concerned about something. Then, a strong hand lands on Eddie’s shoulder.

'You know you can tell me anything, right?'

Of course he does. He breathes out, thinks back to that excited look in Wayne’s eyes when he first gave Eddie that number. Wayne’s safe. Always has been, always will be.

'Can I invite my boyfriend?'

His uncle arches an eyebrow, deepening the lines on his forehead. 'Your boyfriend, huh?' he repeats. 'Is he named Chad?'

Eddie bursts into laughter. Of course he would react like that.

'No, he's not,' he answers. 'He's named Steve.'

'Ha! I knew it!'

Eddie only rolls his eyes; of-fucking-course this was going to happen.

'So I take it you wanna tell me you learned to never doubt your old uncle again, huh?’

Eddie snorts. 'Need I remind you that I only met up with him to stop your ridiculous matchmaking?'

'And now that you know how wrong you were ‘bout that one, you wanna apologize to me for bein’ as stubborn as a goddamn mule and beg me to not stop my matchmaking after all?'

'No, I very much still want you to stop that,' Eddie retorts. 'I'm actually planning to keep this one around long enough for you to never have to play matchmaker again. But you know what, Steve has this lesbian friend, I'm sure she'd love to be set up with a cute girl who “looks like a lesbian” to you.'

Wayne doesn't seem to register the sarcasm in Eddie's voice or the teasing twinkle in his eyes; he frowns, looking like he's deep in thought, before his face lights up all of a sudden.

'I met this nice young lady who works for the Gazette, she did some article 'bout the working circumstances at the plant a couple weeks back. Was real polite, actually listened to what we had to say for a change... I'm sure she'd get along just fine with Steve's friend.'

Eddie starts cackling. 'Don't let it get to your head now, old man.' He pauses. 'Or actually, maybe you should. You could become, like, the psychic of the gays. Earn lots of money with it.' Eddie wiggles his eyebrows as he says it.

Wayne merely shakes his head at him, but an almost invisible smile is tugging at his lips. Suddenly, he brusquely pulls Eddie in for a sideways hug.

'I'm happy for ya, Ed. You better keep your Steve around for a while, alright?'

-------

As soon as Steve arrives at the trailer, Eddie launches himself into in his arms and immediately gets himself a taste of the most delicious kind of strawberry known to mankind, because he might as well profit as much as he possibly can from the fact that he can actually do that now.

Steve gapes at him, his mouth hanging slightly open and his eyebrows raised in bewilderment. 'Dude. Did you just lick my mouth?'

Eddie shrugs. 'Tastes like a lollipop.'

It isn't until he takes a step back that he properly notices the parts of Steve that aren't his pink lips: he's wearing a dinner jacket and holding a bunch of flowers – which by the looks of it got mildly maimed by Eddie's enthusiastic greeting.

'What the fuck, Stevie.' It slips out before Eddie can help it.

'What?' Steve gives him another confused look.

'I mean, don't get me wrong, you're looking insanely hot right now, but... Why are you dressed like we're about to go to the opera?'

'Meeting the parents for the first time, gotta make a good impression!'

'You already met Wayne,' Eddie blankly points out.

'I didn't meet him as your boyfriend, though.' Your boyfriend. It feels fucking unreal to hear Steve say that. And judging by the way it makes Eddie's stomach all floaty and his mouth unable to stop smiling, it's gonna be very bad for that scary metal image he's been working so hard on crafting for himself.

'He's already, like, your number one fan,' Eddie says. 'You need to fuck up real bad to not make a good impression here.'

An adorably relieved look crosses Steve's face at those words.

Eddie squints at Steve's clothes, from the baby-blue button-down to the neatly polished fancy shoes that already got completely ruined by the muddy trailer park ground.

'Dude, you know where we are, right?' he says. 'Just – take a look around you. Do you think we are the kind of people that care about formal clothing and fucking flowers? We were barely able to fit a third chair around the dinner table, we're literally gonna be eating canned macaroni.'

Steve furrows his brows. 'Are you trying to scare me off?'

'No, I'm just giving you the facts. Because you look like you were expecting cloth napkins and, I dunno, maybe the Queen of England.'

'Not really. Just wanted to do it properly.' He shrugs lightly and suddenly seems smaller, like Eddie is not the only one who sometimes gets overwhelmed by figuring out this whole relationship thing they have going on. 'It's important to me. And honestly, your uncle deserves even more respect than the Queen of England, for getting you into my life, you know.'

And Jesus, if that isn't enough to make Eddie melt into a puddle right on the spot... He hopes Steve doesn't notice how rapidly he's suddenly blinking.

'So, you gonna take these or not?'

Steve holds out the flowers, almost hesitant, like he's half expecting Eddie to refuse them. As if he could ever refuse anything Steve would gift him.

'Why thank you, my darling,' Eddie says with a bow. 'You're actually the first guy who ever brought me flowers.' He lets his fingers linger around Steve's as he takes the bouquet from him.

A soft smile crosses Steve’s face. 'And you're the first guy I ever brought flowers to.' He still doesn’t pull his hands away, but instead leans in closer to give Eddie a peck on his lips. And maybe, just maybe, there's something about the whole thing – the jacket, the flowers, the sweetness – that Eddie could actually get used to.

'You wanna get inside and say hi to my uncle?'

'I'd love to. Can't wait to thank him properly for being the greatest matchmaker on earth.'

'Please don't tell him that,' Eddie says with a chuckle. 'He really doesn't need any more encouragement. I'm pretty sure he's already scheming to set up a queer dating agency or some shit.'

‘You should know by now I can hear everything you're sayin' from here!’ Wayne’s voice yells from inside the trailer.

Steve grins as Eddie grabs his hand tighter to lead him inside.

‘It wouldn't hurt you to show him some more support in following his dreams, you know,’ he mumbles to Eddie under his breath.

‘Jesus H. Christ, I can’t believe you’re already teaming up with him to bully me before you even met him!’

He should probably be mad about it, but Steve squeezes his hand and gives him such a precious smile that the only thing he can do is smile back at him.

Holy shit creating this silly little AU has honestly been such a wild ride thanks to all your reactions to it, i can’t say enough how happy all those notifications have made me and I still can’t believe there were SO MANY OF YOU who asked to follow along!!<3333

Taglist: @phantypurple @love-kurdtt @eddiemunsonswife @mackdaddyofheimlichcountyy @swimmingbirdrunningrock @paintsplatteredandimperfect @stevesbipanic @momotonescreaming @yourebuckingkiddingme @th3-r4t-k1ng @messrs-weasley @moonshadows-13 @im-sam-fucking-winchester @xjessicafaithx @yournowheregirl @henderdads @lwhoscribbles @courtjestermunson @steveisabicon @rainydays35  @cassaloopa @skeliiix @thesuninyaface @silversnaffles @jestyzesty @4nemo1egend @ace-of-foxes @harringtonsgother @thegingervulcan @snapshotmaestro @thereindeerlady @jillfriend @xxfiction-is-my-realityxx @gamerdano @spectrum-spectre @zerokrox-blog @00biscuit @mixsethaddams @steve-the-hairrington @episcogoth @caligularib @gaydrieeen @winterbuckwild @bookbinderbitch @daysarestranger @nonbinary-eddie-munson @fangirltofangod @solalasoforth @obsessivlyme @slit-wrist @fxndom-hoe @lifeisnotsobadonceyoustopcaring @joruni @roastingdragon @lenore1232 @princessstevemunson @cuips-not-cute @munsonsuccubus @justalittlefungi @cherrycolas-things @nitrilexam @thepainisspicy @hopefulslothcollecter @whatisreggieshortfor @doctorqueensanatomy @fandemonium-takes-its-toll @sadcanadianwinter @iamsotiredman @orangeandthefairroadkill @anything-thats-rock-and-roll @b-icetea @freddykicksasses @faery-god @poleaxed-aloe @mamaclownhunter @paperbackribs @blvckwidow @mightbeasleep @butuglypeoplefucktoo @lolawon @angryavocadofrog @iwouldsail @livelaughlexa @magpiemuseum @shushuac  @ravnlinn @homohomohoe @kissaphobic-kas @cmackz93 @your-greatest-queen @alltheweirdkidsinoneplace @soulsofstarsliveinyourveins @ceaselessly-watching @anaibis @enchantedlandcoffee @fluffy-alpaca-of-darkness @nelotegreitic @mollymawkwrites @evix-syne666 @redfreckledwolf @ajamlessbaby @connected-dots @nothisisntmyname @steddieassheg0es @anxiouseds @summer1066 @loopholesinmydreams @mareydi  @lillemilly @this-is-moony-lovegood @qomrades @mad-h-w @gay-stranger-things @blanketlicker @fandomcartographer @adankrivervalleynearyou @undreamingscatworld @theysherobinbuckley @i-wanna-combust @stranger-poets-society  @fanshipgirl88 @nonhetbts @literallyjustarat @knitsforthetrail @limpingpenguin @spoopy-rayvynnnox @impeachy @ashwinmeird @7boxesofcheerios @nonsense-of-dimitri @azreadytodie @fuctacles @fuzzyduxk @pluto-pepsi @bornonthesavage @what-am-i-doing-with-my-non-life @alanna342 @jinxjinn @ali-just-ali @piningapple @captain-daryn @namelessssho @doltclassic @elsarenard @ramyayaya @my-heart-is-stopped @lightwoodbanethings @goblin-eddie @indie-npc @alienace @satan-is-obsessed @booksandscience @shrimply-a-menace @hammity-hammer @mits-ki @sharingisntkaren @dbquills @electrick-marionnett @thecherryslush @nuttychaosface @grtwdsmwhr @ceph-the-mothman @gay-little-bitch @brassreign @ninjapirateunicorns @quickenedheartbeat @infrogulous @breealtair @hellomynameismoo @ecarliethic @sultrypickle @lovelyscot @ladydorian05

[artyandink]

Light My Fire (Again) | beau arlen

Summary: “I thought I’d swore off love, Jenny.” I smiled, chuckling a bit as I looked down to my feet then back up the skies, taking in the twinkling lights. “God, I really thought I did, and I was doing such a good job at it too. But, well, I just… I couldn’t help it.” I wet my lips slightly, biting the bottom one. “It’s improper, but it’s true.”

SERIES MASTERLIST

MAIN MASTERLIST

(divider credits go to @cafekitsune)

A/N - Inspired by Take Me Home by @zepskies

nine - sweet girl

NOW:

Soft, plush lips. Strong hands. Low groans.

Paperwork. So much… paperwork.

My pen lay forgotten on the desk, the door to his office closed and blinds drawn while Beau’s lips took my own hostage, staking his claim over and over again until he was sure that they were swollen and his, and he definitely wasn’t stopping after that, not when I was sitting on his lap with the danger of someone walking in. His calloused hand twisted strands of my hair around his fingers, his wrist adorned with an array of hair ties that he’d pulled from my braids every time he saw my hair done up in one.

“Gotta respect the shampoo and conditioner, darlin’, they’ve done work to make you look this gorgeous.” He’d rumble before nuzzling his nose against mine and capturing my lips in a sweet yet burning kiss.

His other hand rucked up the soft material of my Henley, pulling me back to the present but high up into the clouds of nine and possibly ten as his knee found its way between my legs, nudging them apart as he let out a low groan of pleasure at my fingers tugging on his silky hair.

But it wasn’t to get a sound out of him. As much as I loved his lips and the things they could do and the sinful sounds that came out of them, we had work.

“Beau.” I murmured against his lips, which chased mine at every opportunity.

“Mnh-mnh.” He hummed back as the pads of his fingers pressed into my side, his tongue teasing my bottom lip in a way that made me shiver.

Stay strong, Joyner. You haven’t caved to bullets. Don’t cave to a pair of lips-

He pressed an open-mouthed kiss to my pulse point.

Damn, they’re a weapon of mass destruction.

I cleared my throat, biting back a sigh as I lifted his head, making him meet green eyes with mine. “Paperwork.”

The word made him grunt softly in protest, his head jerking slightly to the side. “C’mon, I just got your gorgeous ass alone.” As if to punctuate his point, he squeezed it playfully. “Liv’s with Denise, it’s just us. We can have some fun, a lil’ somethin’-somethin’.”

“Here.” I chuckled, shaking my head slightly. “In your office. With the risk of someone walking in on us?”

Beau let out an indignant snort, giving me some puppy eyes. “I’m the damn sheriff. What’re they gonna do, hm? Look, darlin’, I’m willing to get on with all this hooey, but only if you let me hit that later.”

“Oh, fine.” I rolled my eyes with a small giggle, before I handed back his pen and picked up mine, beginning to fill out the form. “Y’know, I was thinking… I think it’s time that we tell Carla, Em and Liv. About, well, us.”

“If you’re comfortable with it, sure, we can slam the gas on it.” He hummed in agreement, his free hand rubbing soothing circles on my stomach from underneath my Henley. “But if I’m bein’ honest? I think Em an’ Carla already know. Those two don’t miss a thing. Y’know, there was this one time, I was on my way to the bar to have a drink with my old team. Those two clocked me the moment they saw me. Told me I had my party hat on.”

“Your party hat’s pretty peacock-esque, hon.” I smiled, nudging his foot with my own.

“Peacock-eque?” He repeated with a low rumble of a laugh. “That one’s new. Very new. Anyway, Em, she loves you like anythin’. And Carla, she’s been giving me more cheery smiles, like a lil’ ray of sunshine.” He leaned in and pressed a light kiss to my cheek. “I’m presuming that she’s clocked us and she’s happy.”

“But, just to be safe-”

“I can break the news tonight, no problem.” Beau nodded, patting my stomach. He was full of these little assuring touches and kisses, almost if he was assuring himself that this was real.

I was still unsure of it myself.

“But I’m kinda thinking about what Liv will think.” He continued, his breath against my ear. “Her auntie, with a new guy, it’ll be a bit odd, dontcha think?”

“Liv’s a sweet girl.” I shrugged, looking back at him with a small smile. “And after that whole situation where you took care of her while my ass was getting beat? That earned some brownie points.”

“While I appreciated the boost in my XP, I still wanna kill those bastards for what they did to your pretty face.” He brushed some hair out of my eyes with a gentle look in his own. “Or at least give ‘em a lifer. I’m still a law-abiding sheriff, even if I wanna tear them apart, limb by limb, rip their hearts out, stomp on them and not give those guys a proper funeral beyond torching what’s left of them.”

“You sound like such a law abiding sheriff right now.” I drawled sarcastically, a small chuckle leaving my mouth.

Beau nodded, playing along with a throaty laugh. “Yeah, right? Totally innocent.”

“Totally.” I giggled, then leaned forward and kissed him. The purpose was for it to be short and sweet, but Beau couldn’t have that and held it for a bit longer, the pad of his thumb pressing into a spot on my neck in a way that he knew would make me let out a sound into his mouth, which he took in stride. But then my phone rang, which had him pulling away with a roll of his eyes.

“Awh, c’mon, damn phone.” He grumbled, but when I pecked his lips again, he seemed placated. I looked at who was calling me, finding that it was Cassie.

“Sorry, hon.” I sighed, picking up the call and not noticing that I sounded a little breathless. “Hey, Cass. What’s up?”

‘Hey, uh-’ I heard a pause on the other end, followed by a laugh, ‘am I interrupting something?’

“What?! No.” I scoffed, but she picked up on it immediately, snickering.

‘Oh, yeah, I did. Tell Beau I said hi, and no, I’m not telling Jenny.’

“Thanks, Cass.” I turned to Beau, putting Cassie on speaker. “Cassie says hi.”

“Hey, there, Boots.” Beau replied warmly, chuckling.

‘Hey. Anyway, you said that Liv told you she was with Denise.’ Cassie sounded concerned and slightly annoyed, which had Beau and I sharing a look.

“She did, yeah.” I nodded, pouting in thought. “Why?”

‘She’s… not.’ I perked up, my eyebrow raising. ‘She’s with Tom.’

I gasped, outrage filling me. How dare she? Do I even know my own niece anymore? “She’s what?!”

‘I’m as surprised as you are. Just wanted to let you know. They’re in that cafe Tom works at. And they’re pretty cozy.’

My face set, and I let out a huff of breath, rubbing a hand over my face. “Thanks, Cass. I’ll talk to her. Bye.”

‘No problem. Bye.’

I cut the call, and Beau’s hand squeezed my shoulder, sensing my irritation. “Can you be there?” I asked quietly. “I need something to stop me from yelling.”

“Course, darlin’.” He rumbled, kissing my temple. “I can be there.”

Olivia had a big smile on her face as she came home, and it almost broke my heart to know that I had to ruin her fun. But she defied my direct order, and I wanted to know why my baby girl did it. I wasn’t mad, just disappointed.

“Hey, aunt Isa.” She smiled docilely, and it almost made me believe she was innocent. Then her eyes flitted to Beau, and she seemed sort of… I couldn’t put my finger on it. “Hey, Beau.”

“Sugar.” Beau replied curtly, then nodded to me. “Go ‘head, darlin’.”

“Olivia Barlowe, do you wanna tell me exactly why you were spotted today with Tom?” I frowned, folding my arms. “When I explicitly told you not to?”

The question stopped her in her tracks, and she swallowed heavily. “Aunt Isa-”

“Save it.” My fingers drummed on the table, my eyes boring into hers as I fought back the urge to yell, anger only quenched by Beau’s hand on my back rubbing soothing circles. Trying to keep me grounded and miserably failing, though I’d never say that to Beau. Not when he was trying so hard to be an uncle to Olivia and a boyfriend to me despite my growing distance from him due to the case. “Someone found you in a restaurant with Tom, I only wanna hear an explanation, no ‘aunt Isa’s and flat out excuses.”

“I’m not the only one who has to explain themselves.” Olivia scoffed lightly, which had me raising an eyebrow. “You’d rather make out with your boss than spend some time with me-”

“OLIVIA!” My fist came down on the slab, making a thudding sound and startling her. The first time I’d yelled at her; the first time I’d lost control, and it didn’t feel great, but I couldn’t stop shouting. I couldn’t stop taking all of my frustrations out in this moment. “Do you have a goddamn right to talk to me like that?! Do you? Huh? Cause the way I see it, I’ve taken care of you since you were nine, and not to be that caretaker, but I will be- is this how you repay me?”

Damn. Damn, what was I doing?

Olivia remained silent while I continued, words - vexated, irate words - spilled from my mouth. “You weren’t meant to step near Tom, not with a ten foot pole. Not after his adopted father tried to force himself on me. I don’t care whether he’s adopted or not, he’s still Harry’s son. His family, and I don’t want you near that. I can let you near Rhea, she understood the situation, but Tom I can’t control. I thought your father was meant to explain that to you.” I swept my hand over my mouth, clearing my throat and lowering my voice. “It’s for your benefit.”

Olivia looked pale, horrified and confused- as if she had no previous idea of what I’d told her before she ran to her room, but I made no move to stop her.

She needed that space.

Even if her confused expression irked my gut.

“That was the first time I’ve yelled at her.” I whispered, and Beau drew me into his arms, rocking me from side to side with comforting kisses to where he could reach.

“You’re doin’ what you can, Belle.” He murmured, tilting my face up to kiss my lips briefly. “And you can love who you wanna. You’ve had a rough go of it, and you deserve that luxury, eh?”

I nodded against his chest, hearing his heartbeat and somehow feeling at peace. A small smile stretched on my lips, finally home. Home in Beau’s arms, after so long of struggling, giving up and struggling again. At least something made me happy.

Something made all this worth it.

“Alright, we’ve tried a lot of passcodes so far, and there was no incriminating non-witness-based evidence against Mark Leeds, so we had to let him go.” Mo announced, which had Jenny, Cassie, Beau and I groaning and rubbing our faces.

“At this point, it’ll take weeks before we crack the passcode.” Jenny sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. I stared off into space, feeling like I’d failed Lucy. Otherwise I’d have put my brain into use and cracked this whole shebang. Yet I hadn’t, so I’d also failed my badge.

Tackling a gang member and having my wound split open was for nothing.

That hit and run six years ago was for nothing.

Sacrificing my relationship with Olivia was for nothing.

All of it… amounted to nothing.

I was having the worst kind of tears. The ones that burned your eyes and felt like they were there but weren’t. And you’d silently struggle, while the others around you didn’t feel half your pain. That was the kind I was having.

I let out a sharp breath, standing up and dusting off my hands. “Ah, well, I guess I’ll send Mark off. Offer an apology for being so damn rude in the interrogation room.”

“Sure you don’t want someone to come with you?” Beau asked, taking my hand and rubbing his thumb over my knuckles before kissing it.

“I’m fine.”

“Guys, you’re making me feel single.” Jenny giggled, giving us both an amused look that had me running the hand that Beau had held through my hair.

“Jesus, I have a boyfriend and even he’s not as affectionate.” Cassie snorted, referencing Cormac. I’d retaliate by referencing the office make out session, but then she’d expose mine and I didn’t want that, so I just responded with a bashful smile and an exiting of the room, briskly strolling over to where Mark’s handcuffs were being unlocked, what was once stubble now slightly beard-ish, but he couldn’t pull it off. Beau probably could. Then again, I might be biased.

“Markham.” I sighed, not knowing how to take this situation. With relief since it was most likely that he wasn’t Lucy’s killer as there was no evidence, or horrified that he was incredibly good at hiding evidence.

“Isabelle.” He replied with equally of an exhausted tone, but he did something that confused me immensely. He put his hand on my shoulder and squeezed it with a smile. “You find her killer. I miss my Luce, and if anyone’s gonna find that bastard, it’s Elle Joyner.”

I nodded, swallowing thickly. “Y-Yeah. I’ll try.” Then Mark walked out, and even though he had faith in me, I didn’t.

Hell, how could I have faith in me when all I’ve drawn is blanks?

I was working late hours at the station, putting in all the possible combinations of a six digit number one after one just to keep the work going and reach a conclusion faster because goddamn I needed a win. Olivia was with Dean in my house for the night, and I trusted her with him.

“134768,” I muttered, rattling off more numbers and crossing them off on the big-ass sheet.

“M’going home, Deputy Joyner.” One of the other deputies announced, which almost broke my resolve and had me up, leaving and never coming back cause I was going insane.

“Night, Deputy Yates.” I sighed, rubbing my eyes before continuing with the input of numbers.

On and on.

Never ending.

Goddamn, I hated this. Really hated this.

I had the fiftieth sip of coffee, letting the hot liquid rejuvenate my words and somehow my brain cells as I glanced at the time. 9:57pm.

Wait. I sat up in my seat. I’ve got it.

I remembered the tattoo Lucy had on her wrist. It was right there- how did I not see the connection before? I waited for the lock screen to stop telling me to ‘wait a minute’ because there were too many password tries and then entered the code.

0-4-5-1-1-4

Phone Unlocked.

I let out a breath of relief, running a hand through my hair as I went through Lucy’s camera roll first in case she’d gotten a video of the killer the night she died. But there was just one video, that wasn’t of the night she died. She was teaching Olivia a code.

‘It’s my favourite way to code messages. Simple and easy to decipher.’ Lucy smiled in the video, kissing Olivia’s hair, then turned to the camera. ‘I hope you’re getting this, Elle.’

‘I’m getting it!’ My indignant voice came from behind the camera and a piece of me melted. I was there that day.

‘Ok, so you write out the alphabet. Then you write down the numbers from one to twenty six under the alphabet, because that’s how many letters there are. So ‘a’ would be one and ‘z’ would be twenty six. Let’s spell out our names in this code. Y’know, I sometimes talk to your auntie in this code.’

There was an indignant scoff from behind the camera. ‘No you don’t-’

‘Shh, keep the magic.’ Lucy put a finger to her lips, but I instantly knew what she meant. This was a week before she died.

I wrote out the code 045114 on a piece of paper. Then I matched the letter to the number, and instantly my pen dropped, eyes widened and all the breath left my lungs.

D-E-A-N.

Dean.

Dean Barlowe.

I grabbed my keys and my jacket, putting it on and sprinting to my car, dialling Olivia with shaky fingers as I started the car and drove at the speed limit to my house, getting nothing but voicemail. I slammed the wheel, letting out a strangled cry before quickly shooting a voicemail to Beau, Jenny and Cassie.

“They brought my baby into this.” I whispered, feeling ready to break down. They brought Olivia into this. “This is my fight.” Why did they need to touch her? “Why’d they bring my baby girl in the middle of all this crap?” I quickly pulled up at my house, sprinting up the steps to find a wide open door, my blood running cold as I pulled out my gun.

Beau, Jenny and Cassie arrived, also armed with guns that they flicked the safety off of and put up just as Beau gestured for me to take the lead.

“Sheriff’s Department!” I yelled, stalking inside, but when I found a house that was empty with signs of a struggle, chairs overturned and the kitchen counter splattered with blood, my knees buckled, drums playing at fortissimo in my head as my gun clattered to the floor as well, my hands raising to grip my head right as Beau knelt beside me, drawing me into his chest as I drew rasping breaths.

Hot tears spilling down my cheeks.

“We’ll find her.” He assured, trying desperately to wipe away my tears, but they kept on coming.

“My baby.” I sobbed, the sound racking, gut-wrenching, making my throat hoarse but I didn’t give a damn.

Jenny and Cassie came from sweeping the house, the former giving me news I didn’t want to hear. “She’s not here.”

“MY BABY!”

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@nancymcl @deans-spinster-witch @hobby27 @thej2report @winharry @carpenterswife @xxannyxx @nesnejwritings @deans-baby-momma

Make sure to like, reblog with feedback and comment! Comment if you want to join the taglist!

[bump1nthen1ght]

To Be Cherished (Dragon x GN!Reader)

Pairing: Male!Dragon x Gender Neutral!Reader

Warnings: Kidnapping, Slight infantilization (of the reader)

Word Count: 2255 words

Summary: You'd never thought of yourself as the "darling" type; That seemed more fitting for demure nobility, fawned over by their one true love. Usually a knight, or a duke, or someone else.

But dragons were never ones to play by the rules.

Request: heyo, if it’s okay, could i have a male dragon taking a transmasc (or just gn) human to be their pet? kind of just petting and praising the reader, saying things like “good boy/pet” to them? thank you!

A/N: Another dragon! Feels like I haven't written a proper dragon fic in forever, glad to be back.

I wasn't sure if this request wanted NSFW, so I decided to play it safe and do SFW. But if people want a NSFW second part (or another part in general!), I'd be glad to continue this!

When you started this day, you had expected mundanity. Thats what your whole life up to this point had been, a slightly-changing list of chores on the same land your family has worked on for generations. It may have been boring to some, knowing that some towns folk would refer to your family as ‘simple people’, but you always brushed it off. You loved your life! You loved the ever present routines and the beautiful rolling hills, even the gray-blue mountains that seemed to loom over like a fog. It was nice, your life was nice!

Now, looking down the muzzle of a dragon, you think you may have benefitted from exploring a bit more. Maybe if you had gone into town more, talked to more adventuring parties, you’d have the proper response ready when you found a Dragon sitting in your pumpkin patch.

“Hello?”

You mutter, which has the dragon cocking its head. It’s eyes are frighteningly large, giant pools of yellow with a menacing black slit at the center. they sit several feet above you, even with its head tilted low to look at you. A wave of its hot breath rolls over you like a summer breeze, it’s nostrils right by your face.

“H-how can I help you?”

The dragon doesn’t move, just letting it’s third eyelid flit between, only adding to its uncaring (?) gaze,

“Uhmm…” You mutter, looking at your basket. “I have some cucumber, some eggplant, some tomato-” You hold up a fresh, fat red tomato to the dragon's nose, “-if you want some?”

You know dragons prefer more luxurious gifts, but maybe it's hungry? Whatever it wants, it can have, you’re just hoping it doesn’t sees you as the meal.

Another wave of breath is snorted over you, ruffling your overalls and the straw hat on your head. Your hands shake, still tired from harvesting all your vegetables this morning, your nails caked in dirt. You’re sure you look a mess right now, especially in front of something as regal as a dragon, you hope the smell of sweat and soil is enough to deter it from eating you.

The dragon eyes the tomato, but does nothing to eat it. You slowly put it back into your basket.

“Sorry, that’s all I’ve got it. Just a farmer, as you can tell.” You rub the back of your neck, mayb you could appease to it’s sense of humor? Dragons love wiley adventurers, don’t they? “I’ve been told I can make a mean brisket, though. W-would you like some of that?”

The dragon blinks again, but this time you see the sides of its mouth begin to curl up, it’s tail flitting behind it. Is it…smiling?

“Yes.” The dragon’s booming voice nealry rocks you backwards, just as noble and threatening sounding as you thought it would be. “I think you will do, just fine.”

Before you can even stutter out a “What?” the dragon's claw descends upon you, gingerly wrapping around your torso as its wings extend. The ground rumbled as it flaps the giant wings, pushing it’s massive body off the ground with you still in it’s paw. You’re gobsmacked, no words and breath left to exclaim as it begins to take off into the air. A million and one thoughts and panics run through your mind, but as quickly as you realize you are being kidnapped, you black out.

—--

You’ve never actually swam in a lake, but if it was anything like this 30 foot cavern-bath you were taking, you were clearly missing out.

You had woken up in a dark cave, so far underground that the only light source were the various braziers and bioluminescent mushrooms decorating the walls. Laying on top a pile of furs, you noticed how surprisingly intact your body still was before noticing the dragon sitting nearby. It’s only when the dragon huffs that you jerk upward and look at the beast.

“Oh….hello again.” You say, trying not to freak the fuck out. The beast is just a mere 20 feet away from you, the tip of his (at least you think its a he) tail just close enough to tilt up your chin. The dragon hums, appraising you, its lips curling into that same intimidating smile.

“You look so cute when you sleep, pet. I was wondering if you would ever wake up.”

Your jaw would’ve dropped if not for the sharp scales pointing it upwards. This is really not what you were expecting.

The tail moves to your cheek and coerces to tilt your head to one side, then the other. The dragon hums again.

“What nice features. I feel awfully lucky to have found you dear, before you had to suffer any more hard labor.”

Hey, it wasn’t that hard.

You rebut in your thoughts, not daring to speak out of turn. The dragon doesn’t seem to be dangerous…not yet.

The tail moves down your chest and to your hands, lifting them up by the wrists but not pulling you uncomfortably. The dragon leans its head closer, its black scales shining like mother-of-pearl in the mushrooms glow. It tsks. “Workers hands, I loathe the fool who callused these hands. Who has you breaking your back, picking those fruits.” The tail reaches up, and pats you on the head, almost like a dog. “But you mustn’t worry, my pet, you won’t have to do that anymore.”

“I-I think there may be a misunderstanding.” You meekly say, almost a whisper. The dragon tilts its head, still amused. “I appreciate your kindness, dragon, but I wasn’t an indentured servant. Those fields were my own, I chose to work in them, and wasn't forced to do anything.” Your shoulders shrug up, trying to appear grateful but embarrassed at the mix up. “So you can take me back, I promise I wasn’t being hurt.”

The dragon looks at you, not saying anything and still having the amused look on his face. You feel sweat bead on the back of your neck, trying to avoid losing eye contact, showing disrespect or weakness. But the tail simply tips up your chin again, the dragon chuckling.

“Oh no my dear pet, I’m afraid you have misunderstood.” The dragon stands up on its paws, circling around the piles of furs yet keeping his tail under your chin. “ I know you weren’t imprisoned, you just didn’t know any better.”

You furrow your brow. That literally explained nothing.

“You will find your accomadations much more suitable for you now, my dear. Now, lets get you cleaned.”

The dragon’s tail nudges you backwards, turning you to see the large cavernous pool of water behind you.

Huh, that's why it’s so humid in here.

The dragons tail moves down to your shoulder, moving with enough finesse to pull down a single strap of your overalls. Your eyes go wide and you find yourself stumbling away.

“I c-can undress myself!” You squeal, before catching the way the dragon’s brow furrows. “I-uhm- thank you. But I can manage.”

The dragon chuckles, retracting his tail.

“Of course dear, I forgot how important clothing was for human propriety. Here,” The dragon sits up again, sitting around the rim of the bath, though facing away. That long tail flops over the side and stirs the bath water, the fragrant steams of lavender and bergamot bath salts wafting across, “I won’t even look.”

You shrug. You think thats about as much privacy as you’re going to get.

—--

To his credit, that bath was amazing. You don’t think you’ve ever been this clean in your entire life, having grown comfortable with a base level of sweat and grime.

Still, did he have to get rid of my clothes?

You’re not sure how he did it, but when you stepped out of the bath all that remained as a silk robe and fluffy slipper for your to wear. No sign of those well-worn overalls. He even had you do a spin as you got out, cooing at the outfit.

“My, my, now don’t you look handsome?”

You rub the back of your neck, not quite sure how to feel. Embarrassed, flattered? The growl from your stomach does the hard part of filling the silence for you.

“Lets get you some food, huh?”

The dragon leads to a different part of the cave, an outcropping with a gigantic dining room table, several blankets and quilts, and a circular bed in the center. Theres a stack of books, paper and pencils by the bed, but what draws your attention is the platter of delicious food on the table. You walk a little too eagerly to the table, the site of a freshly roasted chicken and potatoes tempting you in. When you sit down, you try not to lunge for it. This is the most luxurious food you’ve ever seen, plates of figs and rinds of cheese for you to snack on, alongside various other fruits. You give the dragon a side eye, wondering if you could start.

The dragon nudges your chair, effectively pushing you in, and gestures with its head for you to eat. Trying to keep some sense of propriety, you use the fancy silverware to your right instead of just digging in with bare hands. You even try to take a delicate bite of one of the chicken wings, but find yourself quickly melting under the flavor.

You were right, this is the best food you have ever eaten.

“Do you like it?”

You nod, taking another large bite. The dragon chuckles, laying down its head and just watching you. You swallow and give it a smile. A real one.

“Yes, thank you. I…don’t know what to say.” You take another quick bite of a nearby fig, almost moaning at the sweet taste. “How’d you get all this?”

“I have my ways, sweetling.” The dragon winks.

“Well, good job because this is incredible.”

You eat until your belly’s full, the lingering heat from the bath weighing down your muscles and making you feel drowsy. Sitting back in your chair you hum in content, before looking at the dragon. He still watches you, that pleased smile on his face.

“Uhm, could I ask you your name?” You set aside your plate, brushing imaginary crumbs off your robe. “I feel like I don’t know anything about you.”

“My name is Nyryym, dear.”

“Na-rim?” You enunciate, smiling when the dragon nods. “Nice to meet you, my name is ____.”

Nyryym nods, sitting upward so his head lies above the table, looking down at you. “A fitting name for my adorable pet.” He uses his tail to tilt your chin, admiring the way you fluster and blush. Your body responds almost naturally, that drowsiness from before weakening your resolve.

“Yeah, about that-” You swallow, a shaky smile on your face, “What’s the plan? Like, do you want me to do something or…” you gesticulate randomly. You’ve heard of dragons enjoying human talents before, like taking dancers or musicians, artists and poets to keep them entertained. But those were usually carefully curated picks, often from a big city or a royal court. You were just a farmer and while you’d like to think you're witty and charming, you didn’t have any extraordinary talents. “I c-can clean, or cook, maybe-” You look at the big pile of books near your bed, “Read to you?” You’d sometimes read to the children next door, putting on funny voices and such.

Nyryym chuckles again, patting you on the head with his tail.

“That is very sweet of you to offer, pet. You are such a dutiful sweetling. But I do not require you to do anything.” He sweeps his tail around your waist, nudging you to stand up and walk towards him. “Your company shall be delight enough, pet.”

“O-okay.” You nod, eyeing the large bed nearby. Surely he didn’t mean..

Well, you’re not gonna even broach that topic.

“I’m happy to help, Nyryym.”

His smile is less disconcerting than you thought it would be, especially with a mouth full of teeth that could grind your bones into dust. Nyrymm draws you even closer to him, his tail now fully wrapped around your waist. His head leans down dangerously close, enough that you yave to coach yourself not flinch away. Another hot breath of air blows through your hair, when you realize he’s smelling you.

Nyryym lets out a content sigh, rubbing your stomach with the tip of his tail. It almost tickles. After another sniff, he opens his eyes and stares you down.

“That’s a good pet. How about we retire for the night?”

You both look toward the bed, luxuriously plush and practically begging to be slept in. The combination of shock, the bath, the food and a morning full of work beforehand urges you to lie down. Now knowing that Nyryym doesn’t plan to eat you, that urge is even more compelling. So you nod, letting him guide you to the bed.

Laying down in the cotton sheets confirms your suspicions; You’re fucking exhausted. Your body sinks into the cushions, immediately pulling up the blankets to tuck yourself in. Nyrymm curls around the bed, lying his head so it's parallel to yours.

“Good night, my sweet pet.” He says, rubbing your face with his tail one last time.

“Good night, Nyryym.”

The hum of the cave and Nyryym’s heavy breathing, alongside everything else, quickly lulls you to sleep. It might be the best sleep you’ve ever had.

You guess things could be worse.

[getosbunsblog]

Jealous Levi

Y’all were in his room about to watch some new ass show. You went down in his beanbag corner, face planting into your favorite one. You were exhausted. this is the fourth marathon this week.

“WAKE UP!! YOU NEED TO SEE THIS!” As he shook you. Ever since you two became closer friends he’s been stealing you and having you watch all of these shows. Not that your complaining. But sometimes it’s a bit much. “Levi, I think I should go to sleep, I’ll watch it with you tomorrow” he looked like a kicked puppy. You felt so bad. But you were exhausted. Suddenly he sat up and said “ok I will too, we can sleep in here” you chuckled “Levi you don’t ever sleep, It’ll be ok I’m just really tired” you rubbed his shoulder and exited. He blushed and watched you walk away. He tried to have fun but he couldn’t. He was utterly bored without you. Maybe he’ll check on you. Yeah. Make sure you made it down the hall safely. He started walking down the hall and creaked open your door. You were not there. “Oh my god, where did she go!!??!” He ran to mammons room because it was the closest and slammed the door open. “MC IS NOT IN HER BEDROO-“ he cut himself off when he saw you in mammons bed wrapped around him. Slightly jolted awake because of Levi. “WHY ARE YOU WITH HIM?!” He yelled. You sat up and looked at him. “Oh, He saw me walking past and called me in here for something real quick” Levi started fuming. You had time for stupid mammon but not HIM?!? Your best friend. Mammon pulled you back down “ignore him, he’s just bein Levi again” he said to you. He turned his head to meet Levi’s eyes “go to bed man, it’s like 3 in the mornin” Levi stormed out and almost gagged remembering that mammon sleeps naked. We’re you naked too. You had his shirt on though. Omg why were you wearing his shirt. Levi knew it, you didn’t see him as more than a friend. You were out fucking mammon of all people?!?

You haven’t heard from Levi for a day, unusual for him and you. You knocked in the distinct pattern you always do. No answer. You opened his door slowly and saw him in his chair. He was playing a video game without headset on. “Hey, did you not hear me?” He didn’t even turn around “no, I did. I know you’d let yourself in, you always do” he sounded mad. You sat down in your seat he got for you and sat in silence watching him for 45 minutes, till you finally asked “Levi, what’s wrong?”

He whipped his head around and glared at you “go away please” you looked shocked, usually he tells you everything. You sat up and left. No questions asked. He clearly needed to be left alone. Maybe he’s just socially overstimulated or something you decided to hang out with Beel today. But it was one of those days for Beel too. He just decided to take it out on your cunt than yell at you. He pounded you till you couldn’t even walk, you slept the rest of the day in his bed where Belphie later crawled in. Sliding his cock between your thighs. Then I’m your spent hole. Cumming in you like Beel did.

Meanwhile asmo went to check on levi and asked what’s wrong “I know it’s MC. I can sense it, don’t lieeee” his face turned red as he screamed “she fucked mammon” asmo looked at him dumbfounded and bursted into laughter “well, duh. Did you think you were the only one. She’s been with all of us” Levi turned even redder and said “SHE FUCKED ALL OF YOU BUT NOT ME?!?” Asmo again looked surprised “oh, I thought, you both had already had sex” Levi screamed “CLEARLY NOT” asmo laughed again “well did you tell her you wanted too?” Levi tilted his head “I show her my things and we talk” asmo moved his hands “yes, yes, but did you make it known you like her?” Levi then realized his error.

Levi started looking for you. All around the house. Then he made it to the twin’s room. He saw your shoes but not you. He went to the kitchen defeated. There you were sitting on the counter eating a cookie. You looked at him “oh,hey Levi-“ he cut you off “Why won’t you have sex with me?! Am I not good enough?! Huh??” You looked at him and he covered his mouth in embarrassment. “Oh, I didn’t know you liked me like this that. Anytime I would try anything you would shut me down immediately and act all weird” you felt oddly happy. “I- oh. Um” he couldn’t form words. You were right. It did look like he only wanted to be friends. “Oh did it misread you just now?” You asked “do you not like me?” He got down on his knees and clung to your leg dangling off the counter “NO! NO I DO!…..so much” he looked up realizing you had no panties on you felt him grow hard against your leg and you giggled you pushed him off gently and he landed on his butt. You could see the outline of two cocks. You spread your legs on the kitchen counter for him. “You wanna try big boy?” He scrambled up and dove into your cunt”

[gremlin-girly]

Kinktober Day 6

Kink: Handjobs

Pairing: Room mate!Steve Rogers x f!Room mate! Reader

Tags/ Warnings: SMUT, room mates to lovers (ig?), listening/watching of porn, JOI porn, smutty audiobook mentioned, descriptions of masturbation (m and f), praise and petnames (good boy, baby, sweetheart), handjob (m recieving), soft!dom!reader X submissive!Steve (the man just needs some taking care of)

Not Beta read (I'll have to edit my mistakes when I have the chance!)

Word Count: 2.9k

Summary: Your roommate forgets to disconnect his Bluetooth headphones from his phone, leading to an embarrassing moment between you both that segues into something more.

As always I do not give permission for my work to be reposted, translated or copied. My warnings are non-exhaustive (even though I do try to capture everything) but please read at your own risk. I am not responsible for your content consumption.

I hope you enjoy; likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated!

Part 1 (you're here) | Part 2

Prev | Next | Masterlist

A/N: And they were roommates...

Originally, I had planned for this to go in a slightly different direction - but prefferred this!

But I have to admit, I do like a good roomates to lovers and have been playing with a few ideas of a Roommate!Steve (and potentially a Roommate!Bucky) so I may have accidentally started a little collection... Sorry for posting late, migraines all day had me conked out, just a double whammy for tonight!- Love, Grem x

You’d fallen into a nice routine since moving in with Steve. He was the perfect roommate, an utter gentleman, and easy on the eyes too. You knew being Captain America was a stressful full time job, and you were surprised to find that behind the stoic, stern symbol of hope was a friendly artist from Brooklyn.

It had taken Steve some time in getting used to you being around. When he went away on his first mission outside of the US , he’d forgotten you now lived with him and had startled you on your way to the bathroom. He’d been so apologetic about it and you'd just laughed. From then on, he’d text you when he was on his way home from a mission and from then on you always made sure there were leftovers in the fridge for him.  

Occasionally you’d spend time together, watching a movie, or idle chit chat as you cooked breakfast for you both. Steve slowly but surely came out of his shell and relaxed around you – and you him – cracking jokes, gently ribbing each other. You didn’t miss the way the tips of his ears burned  when you complimented him or how your heart fluttered when he’d brush past you to throw a dirty mug into the sink. But you were just roommates.

And you were currently a roommate with dead headphones.

“Steve?” you emerged from your room and padded out into the living area, spotting Steve who quickly locked his phone looking at you with wide eyes. You locked an eyebrow as you approached. “You alright?”

“Y-Yeah.” He clears his throat and runs a hand through his hair. “Thought you were in bed.”

You shrug helplessly. “Dead headphones. Could I borrow yours whilst mine charge please? If that’s okay?”

Steve nods and twists to point over at the kitchen counter. “Yeah, sure. They should be over there somewhere.”

You waltz over to the counter and find the headphone case easily, missing how Steve’s eyes follow your figure. You turn back to him and smile, wiggling the case.

“Thanks, lifesaver. Couldn’t miss the next chapter of my book.”   

Steve smiles back  but his expression looks like a mixture of disappointment and relief that you seem to be leaving to head back to your room.  “No worries. Night.”

“Night. Don't stay  up too late, Stevie.” You say as you grasp the handle to your door.  Steve only hums in response and waits for you to be safely shut away in your room before unlocking his phone again.

He runs his hand over his face as he looks down at the videos before him. It wasn’t the first time he visited porn sites, but lately he’d found  the perfect stress relief after a day of being Captain America. He felt the shame trickle down his spine and pushed away the guilty thoughts that plagued him in moments like these. Captain America being told what to do? Having powerful women instruct  him to jerk off, shower him with praise, and tell him when to cum was more than enough for blackmail, let alone the jokes that Tony would make if the information ever saw the light of day. And you had almost caught him.

Steve shivers, palming his growing erection over his joggers. God, it was worse knowing he liked you almost catching him. Would you have flustered? Or would you have complimented his cock with that teasing smile you always seem to wear? 

Steve curses under his breath at the thought, cock twitching. He shakes his head to try and rid himself of the thought but it sticks, and he scrolls through the myriad of videos until he finds a promising one. With one final cautionary glance at your door, he shuffles his joggers and boxers down to take out his hardening cock. He only needs the volume low thanks to super soldier hearing and you’d either be fast asleep or listening to whatever audio book you were listening to this month to hear what has about to happen. Steve makes himself comfortable again the sofa pillows, leaning into them and pumping his cock a few times thinking about how good you must look right now cuddled under the covers in those tight pyjama shorts. Before he gets lots in the daydream, he hits play on the video, continuing to stroke himself but slowly now; awaiting his instructions. After a moment there’s still no sound. Steve clicks the buttons to up the volume, continuing slow ministrations and thinking of you.

Before Steve had pressed play, you had been lying in bed with the headphones in, debating whether or not you would go to hell for using your hot roommate Bluetooth headphones to listen to smut. Your body flushed at the thought but... you needed an extra helping hand before bed tonight since you’d had a particularly stressful day too. Steve didn’t need to know.

When the audio kicked in, you thought you had accidentally hit play, and allowed yourself to be subjected to your fate. You heaved a contented, almost smug sigh, eyes fluttering closed as you  reached down under the band of your pyjama shorts. The narrator’s voice sounded different somehow. Maybe they’d changed actors? Then she started giving instructions. Your frown with your eyes closed, fingers finding your clit but not moving. It isn’t until you hear the words “good boy” being uttered that your eyes fly open in horror.

Steve’s headphones are still connected to his phone.

Steve is watching porn.

Steve doesn’t know you can hear it.

Your face burns red with embarrassment and you scramble to get the earphones out of your ears. Even though you shouldn’t, you feel heat pool between your legs. You should tell him. He hasn’t realised. But would it be weird? If you disconnect the headphones he might suspect it but if you text him it’d be worse. And God forbid you see what he’s doing in the living room.

Your fingers hover over the Bluetooth icon on your phone. Your imagination is running wild and now you really don’t think you need your smutty little audiobook anymore.

The volume gets turned up on the headphones again and you can hear the woman continue talking  through instructions in a sultry voice.  You panic, blushing furiously, and rip the covers away from you. You trip out of bed, grasping at the headphones and call out.

“STEVE!”

Big mistake.

You balk. Why did you call for him? You hide your head under your hands as you hear Steve scramble in the living room, cursing as he knocks a foot against the coffee table. He bursts into your room, face flushed, and sees you lying on the floor. You don’t look up. You can’t meet his eyes.

Steve opens his mouth to ask if you’re alright, you look like you’ve fallen out of bed, but as he does he hears it. In the blind panic to help you, he forgot to hit pause. The sounds from the video echoing from the headphones in your grasp. Red creeps up Steve’s neck and face and he stammers. This was a nightmare.

“ohmygod,” he breathes out, hiding his face. “Oh- Y/N – God- How long were you-?” He stops himself clearly even more flustered by the fact you may have (totally) been listening.

You remember you still exist and your head snaps up, equally as red as Steve’s, meeting his glimmering blue eyes with an apologetic look.

“I thought it was mine.” You clarify, and Steve looks like he might pass out.

“What do you mean yours?”

“I... thought it was my audiobook.” Your voice grows quieter at your admission and you give Steve a sheepish look. You both stare at each other for an age; each wrapping your head’s around the new information you’d discovered about each other, and trying to come to terms with the tension that was now entirely palpable between you.

You were the first to speak, lips twitching into a smirk slightly. “So.... do we want to talk about this?”

The smirk made Steve’s cock twitch. There it was, the same teasing smirk you always gave him. He had been so close to cumming when you’d called out for him, and the embarrassment that followed ruined the high, but at least he’d have material to work with when he went back to his bed.

Steve held up his hands and found himself smiling nervously down at you. “No thanks, I think I’ll pass.”

“That’s it, good boy.”

You have to bite back a laugh as the woman’s voice erupts from the headphones in your hand. Steve looks like he wants the ground to swallow him.

“She’s really going for it,” you comment, trying to break the ice. Steve starts to grin but he groans. You’d heard him sigh and groan before, and it never ceased to make you hot and bothered. “I see why you like it so much.”

“Please don’t.” Steve chuckles softly. “My old heart can’t take it. I’m sorry I forgot to disconnect them.”

“S’all good.”  You clamber to your feet and hold out his headphones to him, Immediately  wiping your sweaty palms onto your pyjama shorts. “And for what it’s worth, totally normal. Don’t be too embarrassed.”

“Hrm,” Steve grumbles, looking at the headphones in his large palm. When his gaze shifts back to you, he’s smirking slightly with a raised eyebrow. “And you thought this was your...?” He can’t quite get himself to say the word porn, but you roll your eyes playfully at him.

“My porn audiobook – yes.” Your eyes narrow teasingly at him. “But I’ll only share it with you if you’re a good boy.”

Steve’s body goes rigid,  and your expression softens. “Sorry. Too soon to joke about it?”

Steve’s looking down at you, pupils blown wide, trying to learn how to breathe again and hide the fact that his cock is rock hard between you. He shakes his head gently and clears his throat.

“N-no. It’s fine.” Steve huffs, eyes still fixated on you. Heat unfurls between your thighs under his gaze.

“Steve?” Your voice is so quiet it’s barely audible. Your heart beats in your ears and you watch Steve’s Adam's apple bob as he swallows thickly.

“yeah?” his voice is hoarse, bordering on desperate.

“Do you want me to call you a good boy?” You murmur. You watch as his eyes flutter and he bites down on his plush lip, suppressing a throaty sound that you’re sure sounds like a strangled whimper that makes your pussy throb with excitement. “It’s okay. You can say it. I don’t mind.”

“Fuck.” Steve curses, half turning away from you. When he turns, you can see the tent in his joggers and you almost swoon at the sight. “We shouldn’t-“

“Not what I asked, Stevie.” You say firmly. Steve’s eyes betray his thoughts and he only nods. You offer him your hand with a soft smile. “You’re okay – I’ve got you.”

The reassurance seems to be what he needs because the super soldier allows you to lead him to your bed. You let him sit down first and you stand between his muscular thighs. He’s still almost as tall as you sitting down, but you’re just that little bit taller like this to cup his face and tilt it up towards you to capture his lips in a sweet kiss. Steve breathes hard through his nose, his eyes close, and his shoulders slowly sag as you kiss. His big hands ghost over your thighs to settle on your hips. When you pull away to take a breath, you smile down at him, still cupping his soft clean shaven face.

“Good boy,” Your murmur against his lips and Steve audibly sighs in delight. “Now, undress and lay back for me. I wanna take care of you.”

You don’t need to tell him twice. His shirt is the first thing to go, tossed to the floor somewhere. Your eyes rake down his chest and your hands follow tracing the outlines of his taut muscles. He shivers underneath your touch and his breathing hitches when you reach the waistband of his joggers. There's barely anything left to the imagination with Steve's length straining against the thing fabric and you watch as Steve's blue eyes look up at you one last time; searching yours in case you want to back out. Before the point of no return.

He obeys, quietly shuffling back. His breathing is deep and laboured, his eyes never leave you as you kneel between his legs on your bed. You're hot all over - you dreamed of having him in your bed but now that he was here you almost felt self-conscious. But you had meant what you said when you told him you wanted to take care of him. Gently wrapping your fingers around his cock, the heat and hardness of the smooth skin making your mouth water, you pump a few times to adjust your grip. Steve lets out a breathy sigh but watches closely.

You swallow and nod at him, urging him with a barely audible "Go on," as encouragement. When Steve's cock is free, you lick your lips subconsciously at the sight. Big was an understatement and there's a dribble of pre-cum leaking from the tip already. You can feel Steve watching you, patiently waiting instruction, and your eyes meet his again.

"Further back onto the bed, Stevie."

You set a steady rhythm, Steve's breath hitching as you pump his weeping cock and shower him with praises making his head fall back into your pillows with muffled moans. As sexy as it was watching Steve try to suppress his moans by biting his (ridiculously) soft lips, you were desperate to hear them. Especially if, after tonight, things became... awkward at best.

"Don't keep those pretty sounds from me," You coo lasciviously at him, letting a blob of spit slowly roll from your tongue and drip onto the tip of his cock. The gasp Steve emits makes his whole body jerk, and heat rushes to his face. His cock twitches as you pump him harder, faster and now slicker, smirking up at him with that devilish grin he sees every night before he closes his eyes.

"Oh, fuuuuck." Steve moans loudly, and you chuckle; pleased he listened and pleased by how his eyes roll back and how he can't seem to stop his hips jerking.

"You were such a good boy Stevie but you should have said something. And let me take care of you." Your voice is low and seductive, you barely recognise it's you who's speaking. It's not often you get to be like this and your brain (or another organ entirely) is speaking without thinking.

"That's it baby, be nice and loud for me."

Steve huffs, brows furrowing softly trying to focus himself; which only spurs you on more. You grip his cock a little harder, expertly gliding your hand up and down.

"You like thinking about this when you're alone, Stevie? When I've been across the hall this entire time?"

"Shit, yes - oh." Steve groans again, cock twitching in your palm. You feel a sense of pride, and a flutter of something you dare not mention, at the confession. You're glad it's not just one-sided attraction, at the very least.

"Mm, I should have." Steve hums, breathing becoming heavier and heavier by the second. You are relentless, pumping him with the occasional trail of drool, and unabashed praises of him just to watch him squirm under your touch.

"Your cock is so pretty Stevie," Your murmur to him, watching his sac tighten as you fist his cock faster. "I can't wait to taste it."

Both the comment itself and the very thought of having your lips around his cock, make Steve cum so hard his vision blurs for a few seconds. His face and neck are flushed and he's coated in his own cum, panting hard with his eyes closed. You smile at the sight, committing it to memory before any guilt or shame sets in. You stealthily move over him to your bedside table to grab some wet wipes. Steve barely moves at the shift on the bed, but his eyes peek over to you and you gently smile down at him. You pull a wet-wipe free and hand it to him, unsure how he'd react to you cleaning him up.

"You okay, sweetheart?" You ask softly, sitting against the edge of the bed as Steve graciously takes the wipe from you. His face his bright red still and you start feeling the nibbles of guilt at the edges of your mind. You had both been willing and horny... but perhaps jeopardising your friendship to make Captain America cum wasn't the smartest idea.

"Mm." Steve clears his throat, still avoiding eye contact, and takes another wet-wipe. You fight the urge to make a joke about the super-soldier amount of cum. Not now.

"Hey," You reach out to touch his shoulder but stop when Steve looks over at you with his baby blues still blown wide. "This doesn't have to change anything if you don't want it to. We can pretend this never happened."

You shuffle awkwardly on the edge of your bed, grasping your hands in your lap. "But I... liked it. And I wouldn't mind if you wanted to... spend the night in here."

"I think I'd like that." He mumbles. "And I think I'd like to do it again sometime."

You can't tell if you've crossed the line from reassurance to worry for a moment. The silence drags for what feels like an eternity until Steve's features go from flustered to soft, with that cute smile he does so well.

Now it's your turn to go red. "Good. Great."

Steve chuckles. "But first, since you heard my audio... I think it's fair I heard yours."

[couldyouimagine-that]

Held

Genre; Just fluff

Word Count; 0.67k (just a short one)

Warnings; Absolutely none. Cuddles with Vox who realizes the reader will feel better with him laying on top of them (and teases them just a little bit for it). Could be platonic or romantic depending on how much physical touch you have with friends.

Pairings; Vox x Reader

Leave a comment if you liked this story :)

Masterlist

-

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?”

Vox’s voice was low and rounded, a soft look in his eyes as he gazed down at you. He was laid out comfortably on his back, you curled into his chest. The blankets had slipped down around your waist and the soft material brushed against your arms. You had spent the last several minutes tucking your face closer against him, holding yourself tighter against his chest. He had an arm around your waist and the other up by your shoulders, his hand brushing along your shoulder blades idly. You already had a leg crossed over one of his, all but wound around him in an attempt to get as close as you could. You pressed your face harder against him rather than answering, eyes closed. A moment passed before you squeezed your arms around him again. His chest shifted beneath you as he chuckled, then you felt him slowly shake his head.

“You just need a little help feeling safe, hm?”

It was gently mocking, so your squeezed him yet again without speaking.

“Yeah, I know. Don’t worry darling. I’ll make you feel safe.”

His grip suddenly tightened and he flipped the two of you over. He laid you out flat beneath him, leaving his arms snugly around your waist. Vox moved his head back from you to watch your reaction as squeezed you to him, his weight pinning you down completely but not uncomfortably. You let out a breath of content. He was probably holding you too hard by most people’s standards, so hard that it was close to hurting you, but you couldn’t imagine telling him to stop.

“There you go. That feels better, hm? Yeah, I’ll bet it does.”

Your eyes had closed against your will, your head tilted slightly to the side where it rested back against Vox’s plush pillow. You forced your eyes to crack open just a little, watching him.

“You talk too much,” you told him outright. He laughed, because of course he did. He was right and you both knew it, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of hearing it from your lips.

You wound your arms around his shoulders to pull him back down to you and you couldn’t help the little thrill you felt in your stomach when he went willingly. For you, only for you, he laid down on top of you and allowed his screen to press flat into the pillow above your head. He was making you feel too relaxed for you to come up with a comment on how he had to angle his head for this position to work, though you felt sure it looked silly. He stroked the tips of his claws along your sides, again constricting his grip and enjoying how your body fell slack at the pressure. You started running your hands along his back as much as you could from how he held you, tilting your chin up to press your face into his shoulder.

“Thanks Vox,” you murmured in the end, glancing to the side when he angled his screen so that you could see his raised eyebrow.

“Oh? Thought I talked too much. Didn’t think I could possibly know what you needed.” You could just make out the angle of his sharp grin.

You let out a huff and shook your head, turning away and closing your eyes once again.

“Yeah, yeah, don’t let it get to your head.” The words were muttered, quiet, because you were enjoying sinking into a completely relaxed state too much to hit back with anything substantial.

“Too much for you to just admit I know how to look after you, yeah?” You hit his shoulder lightly, at a loss for what to say. “Yeah, I know. You’ll say it one day.”

He didn’t have any more smug comments to make after you failed to come up with something witty in return, and you began slowly dozing off. You were warm and comfortable and felt exactly as Vox had said – safe, being held by him.

[bears-ao3-blog]

The Rumor Come Out: Does Scout Sniper TF2 is Gay?

Requested by Rhett on AO3: "If I were to ask for anything more, it'd be Sniper and Scout coming out to everyone (if they want to)"

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey, Mick?" 

Sniper hummed next to him questionably as he swirled the deep brown coffee in his mug absentmindedly, the dark morning painting the steaming brew an inky black as Sniper watched the liquid pool up at the sides and flow back, a film of coffee tinging the white mug cream on the inside. The two were sat in their chairs, like they were every morning. They had started meeting, without fail, at least once every day ever since they had found out about the other's reciprocation of feelings 2 weeks prior, and they were happy – mostly happy, that is. It's just...something was bugging Scout; eating at him like his teeth on his thumbnails. Rapping at the door of his mind every time he wasn't focused on other matters. 

"...I kinda wanna tell the others. About us." 

Sniper's eyes widened, his grip faltering on the warm ceramic handle as he whipped his head over to Scout so fast his hat and aviators nearly flew off. His response was unusually high-pitched for his low timbre, and panic laced his words with a fearful sharpness. 

"Wot?" 

Scout looked a little sheepish when their eyes met, his posture tense and guarded like he knew this is exactly how the marksman was going to react, and he nodded solemnly, a guilt clearly present on his face with the way it scrunched his features and made his eyes fall distant. 

"I...I don' like lyin' ta them, man. I mean, c'mon, what's da worst dat could happen?" 

Sniper looked at Scout incredulously before he shook his head to clear his mind and gather his thoughts. A tight frown and knitted brows replaced the shock as he rattled off. 

"Well, first of all, we could lose our jobs. Even if the Administrator is foine with "friends of Dorothy", M'not too sure she'd take kindly to our very unprofessional workplace relationship. An' wot abaut the others? You've never been 'appier abaut bein' accepted araund 'em, an' now you wanna risk all that?" 

Sniper's rant was cut rather short after his wandering, darting, rant-driven eyes finally landed on Scout and the runner looked like the sharpshooter just shot his dog. Sniper shut up right then and there with a click of his teeth and an uncomfortable swallow. He softened in his posture, which had similarly tensed, and spoke much more tenderly, leaning over the short distance of their chairs to gently cup the other's face. His thumb stroked comforting circles into the other's cheek as Scout pressed into the hand, his gaze falling. 

"I jus' want ya to be safe, for us to be safe. The world ain't keen on a love like ours, 'roo...Hey-" 

Sniper nudged Scout's chin upwards so the other would look up at him, and the marksman's heart squeezed at the poorly-concealed shine of the runner's eyes. Sniper's lip curled in confliction, his eyes darting between the left and right of Scout's, before he sighed, averting his gaze to get out his next words. The look on the other's face made his throat squeeze too much to speak. 

"I...I trust ya, luv. Just...be smart abaut it, yeah?" 

Scout looked up with a small pout, brows crinkling slightly. Sniper looked back, their eye contact intensifying as Scout's gaze turned steely. 

"I'm not an idiot, Snipes. I know 'em. M'pretty sure the only person who'd have anythin' ta say about it would be Spy, and dat's just cause he don't approve of anythin' I do." 

Sniper's lips pursed, looking away thoughtfully before he pulled the other in with the hand cupping the speedster's cheek to press a slow, apologetic kiss to the other's lips. They pulled only inches away, resting on each other's foreheads as Sniper nodded softly in understanding, his voice steeped in a similar softness as he spoke. 

"I know you're not, Jeremy." 

Scout sighed in response, his defensiveness melting away as he nodded back. 

"I know ya know..." 

They pulled apart, Sniper sitting up straighter and sipping at his coffee, Scout slumping against the back of his chair with a dramatic trill of his lips. 

"Dis sucks. Screw all the bastards dat decided two dude bein' inta each other was a crime." 

"Cheers ta that, mate. Bugger em'." 

"Yeah! Bugger em'!" 

Sniper chuckled under his breath as he lifted his mug to his lips to take a sip, finding Scout's usage of his own slang amusing.  

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Engineer and Pyro 

_______________ 

The inventor and fire-starter were sat at the dining room table, both perched over their respective pieces of paper and drawing away. Pyro was working on an odd doodle of Medic with a dove head in a hard press of crayon, and Engineer was making smooth, purposeful, light drags of his carpenter pencil on his newest draft of his newest creation. It looked like an upgrade to the teleporters, from what Scout could see. Scout felt a pang of dread attempt to stop him in his tracks, but the runner nevertheless sat himself down in a chair across from them. 

Engineer broke out of his concentration to smile at Scout lopsidedly, tucking the pencil behind his ear. 

"Well howdy, Scout! How's it goin'?" 

The engineer's voice got Pyro's attention, who looked up and offered their own muffled greeting. 

Scout feigned a smile back, his nerves serving the genuinity behind it null. Engineer noticed quickly, his brows furrowing behind his goggles and head dipping slightly in concern, continuing before the speedster could get a word in. 

"Is everythin' alright?" 

Scout grimaced at being found out so quickly and he sighed, eyes landing on the floor next to the table as he searched for the right words. 

Did Sniper have a point? Should he think about this first? What if Engineer secretly hated gays? What if it ruined their friendship? What if Pyro did and they tried lighting him up or something? He didn’t want to risk ruining the relationships he had worked so hard at building. Scout's throat squeezed in anxiety, mouth remaining stubbornly closed and refusing to elaborate. But Engineer's looking at him like something's up and Pyro's mumbling in a questioning manner and Scout's hand clenches as he huffs, finally returning Engineer's gaze. 

"I uh...got somethin' ta tell ya. An' it doesn't change who I am, yknow? I'm still the same old Scout, ya just know a little more about him an' I don't-" 

"Woah woah woah there, pardner-" 

Engineer halted Scout's nervous rambling with a calming voice and raised hands, motioning to convey the same meaning. Scout looked at him with wide eyes and features tense with stress. Engineer replied with a small, disarming smile and gentle tone. 

"Whatever it is, I'm sure it's not worth all this stressin' about. Just tell us, son." 

Scout took a deep breath to gather the courage, eyes closing to find himself, and slowly let it out before finally, finally saying it. 

"Me 'n Snipes...we're, uh...togetha. Like togetha togetha, so...yeah." 

Engineer looked over at Pyro, who looked over at Engineer, and they both broke out into laughter. Muted giggles emanated from Pyro's mask and a loud, booming guffaw was ripped from Engineer as Scout watched, jaw on the floor, brows pinched in confusion and offense. 

"Da hell's so funny, huh?" 

Engineer waved off the statement, still recovering as giggles and snickers spilled out of him, speaking through them. 

"No, no, hehahaah! Son, we know. Ya aren't exactly subtle about yer feelin's, hehe. Ahh, hell, most of the crew knew before you two even knew, I reckon." 

Pyro mumbled something, similarly amused, and Scout just squinted at them, completely oblivious as to what they were saying. He didn’t quite care, though, he was mostly distracted by the truth-bomb dropped by Engineer.  

"I'm sorry...what?" 

"Scout, it's fine, really. I reckon you'd know by now if the team had a problem with it." 

Scout's brows furrowed as his eyes darted around, rethinking every interaction he'd had with anyone since him and Sniper started talking, and his eyes widened as things started clicking into place. The odd quips from Demo weren't him being weird, he was teasing, and that’s why Soldier would always snicker like they were in on some inside joke....and the way Engineer would smile at him when Scout would talk about him and Sniper, like he was happy for him, too happy...Spy's seemingly new formed hatred towards the two being together, but him oddly hiding it and avoiding him? 

"So...so-" 

Engineer sighed, that same smile still on his face. 

"We're happy fer ya, Scout. I mean, big guy and the doc are a pair too, aren't they? Ya don't see us making a fuss of it. They aren’t the only ones, either. But uhh...that's not my place to talk about." 

Engineer's face tinged red during his last few sentences, his voice coming down to a sheepish murmur, which made Scout's eyes squint suspiciously. Was he implying... Scout shook the thought out of his head and it was very quickly replaced with the realization that the team knew. Because he was so obvious about it. It was Scout's turn to turn red, dropping his head in his crossed arms on the table with a dull thud, his muffled voice sounding from his arms. 

"Goddd dat's so fuckin' embarrasin'. Ughh-uuhh." 

More chuckles came from Engineer and Pyro, making Scout bury further in his arms, his cheeks burning. Pyro mumbled another bout of hums that Scout couldn’t even begin to make sense of. Engineer heard it just fine though, agreeing.  

"Scorch is right. Don't fret none, son. Only thing that's changed's yer perspective, is all." 

Scout lifted his head to rest his chin on his arms, frowning sulkily, his face still warm. He muttered, averting both of their gazes. 

"Yeah, whateva." 

Once again, Engineer and Pyro laughed. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Soldier and Demo 

_______________ 

Scout stomped outside, fists clenched, an irrational anger coursing through him. Everyone knew? Why were they so fucking coy about it? He could have avoided this whole, deeply uncomfortable, heart-to-heart "there's something I need to tell you" bullshit! And with the context, that meant that Demo and Soldier had been making fun of them! Scout could take the jokes usually thrown at him, that was just part of everyday life, but jokes at the expense of Sniper was different. He felt hot with irritation as he looked for the two. The telltale sounds of booming explosions and chaos laced with gruff cackling and howling of laughter lead Scout right to where he was looking. They were practicing their exploding jumps and seeing who could reach the highest, and were already sporting some nasty cuts and broken bones. Scout could already hear Medic's annoyed huffs and complaints about having to do his job when they weren't on the battlefield.  

"Hey chuckleheads! I gots a bone ta pick wit ya!" 

The two men stopped what they were doing, Soldier's rocket launcher already aimed at the ground, his finger tensing on the trigger when they were interrupted. Their heads turned in the direction of the steaming runner, and they looked at each other with a mix of mild annoyance and worry. 

"Uhh...aye lad? Whit’s got ye in a stooshie for?" 

Scout finished stomping over, arms crossed and a deeply unamused look on his face. 

"You two know about me and Snipes, dontcha?" 

The two looked like they were deer in headlights, before eyeing the other, nervousness prominent in their features as they looked back at the speedster gingerly. 

"Emm...aye, that’s right, laddie." 

Scout threw his arms back and punched both of them in the shoulder with a hefty blow. The two yelped, and Demo swiftly threw an arm against Soldier to stop him from attacking back, the war fanatic shouting threats and insults and crazed blabbering about disrespect and the like. Scout shook his head, tutting and "ah- ah- ah- ah-"ing to get him to shut up. When Soldier finally quieted down, Scout spoke with a disturbingly calm and even voice. 

"Ya make one more joke an' I knock both ya blocks off so hard respawn don't gotta chance at savin' ya, hear me?"  

Soldier and Demo exchanged another nervous look before they nodded understandingly. Scout mirrored the action in approval. 

"Good." 

Demo piped up quickly, attempting damage control. 

"If it makes ye feel any better, we’re chuffed for ye. Ye two fit together like a hand in a glove." 

"Indeed! That sort of behavior happens all the time in the army! Just be sure to be quiet about it!" 

Demo whacked Soldier upside the head, making an annoyed, drawn-out noise. 

"Ya numpty, he’s no got tae be quiet aboot it!" 

Scout glared at Soldier, puffing his chest out defiantly and squaring his shoulders. 

"Dat's freakin' right, I don't...but actually though, maybe don’t mention it to the Administrator...I don't want her on my ass about it." 

There was a moment of silence before Soldier quietly mumbled a: 

"Affirmative. I am sure your ass is strictly for the Sniper." 

Demo barely had time to cackle in response before they both got a face full of baseball bat. Medic didn’t even bother questioning when Scout hailed him over to fix them up. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Spy 

_______________ 

It was later that night that he caught Spy, lounging against a wall, inhaling another one of his cancer sticks, looking as grumpy as ever. Scout leaned against the wall next to him, arms crossed nonchalantly. Spy peered down at him with a raised brow. Scout didn’t have to look over to know that was the case. 

"Why 'aven't you been on my ass about me n' Snipes." 

There was an awkward silence before Spy sighed, long, drawn out, and laced with cigarette smoke. 

"I feegured you would ask queshtions." 

Another awkward silence. Scout glared over at him expectantly. 

"Well?" 

Spy's face scrunched in annoyance, lip curling to reveal the teeth gently holding his cigarette in place. 

"It is none of my bizness, non?" 

"Oh, don't gimme dat crap, you got no sense of the word. What the fuck's been up wit ya." 

The sleuth growled in irritation before speaking. 

"Is it so 'ard to believe a man is capable of a change of 'eart? I may not like it, but 'e's been good for you, and zerefore good for your performance. No need to interfere with somesing zat is working." 

Scout gawked at him, brows slightly furrowed in disbelief. Spy? Change of heart? What the hell was going on? An odd sense of validation made his heart perk up in happiness and he fucking hated that he was so delighted to hear that Spy approved of their relationship. Why the hell would he need the bastard's approval? Why the hell did he need the bastard's approval? Why was he realizing this just now? Wh- 

"Scout. You are staring." 

"Yeah! Ya bein' fuckin weird about this!" 

Spy huffed again, another cloud of smoke billowing from his lips. 

"You expect me to be a bigot?" 

Scout snorted at that, resulting in a cold look from the older man. 

"Nah, ya more a fairy dan I am, fancy pants." 

"Oh please. Ugh, if you'd kindly shut your mouth for once in your life it would do me a great deal of good." 

Spy pinched the bridge of his nose, teeth gritting. Scout grinned smugly back and nodded in approval. 

"Now ya actin' more like yaself." 

Spy let go, face falling to more of a mild shock, paired with a raised eyebrow as he peered over at the other questioningly. 

"What? Yeah, you're a bastard but I'm used ta dat. Don't gotta be a dick about me n Sniper but...you've been like-, avoiding me lately, n' stuff. I thought you actually were a bigot'a somethin' for a hot sec." 

Scout scoff-laughed at the end, obviously finding the idea a bit silly. He looked up to see Spy looking oddly sheepish. 

"Well...I figured zat my, er, distance, would do you some good as well. I know I am not kind to you often." 

Scout looked forward, feigning interest in the wall across from them, embarrassment making the back of his neck burn as he begrudgingly disagreed. 

"Nah...nah. Ya good. A dick fa sure but...ya good." 

The silence was more comfortin- comfortable. Not comforting. There was absolutely nothing comforting about Spy. But regardless, they shared that stillness for a solid few minutes before Scout quietly bid him farewell and briskly walked away. Spy watched him go with an unreadable expression, but an unmistakable softness in his eyes and posture. He lit another cigarette. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~ 

Sniper jumped slightly when the door to the camper swung open with no warning, drawing the marksman out of reading his newest MEN'S SURVIVAL MAGAZINE issue. A slightly exhausted looking Scout tumbled in and shut the door behind him with a huff. Sniper's chest immediately locked up, fearing the worst as Scout trudged over, stopping outside of the booth Sniper was sitting in. Sniper turned, pulling his legs out from under the table to face his body outward, head tilting before his eyes widened as Scout plopped in Sniper's lap and melted into him, head resting on the other's shoulder. 

"...wos it bad, 'roo?" 

Scout shook his head, shimmying further into Sniper's space and sighing in comfort. 

"Nah...jus' stressful. 'pparently everyone knew already. I'm just glad to see ya again." 

Sniper smiled and wrapped his arms around the runner, pulling him closer and resting his own head on the other's shoulder. 

"Good ta hear, luv. I'm 'appy ta see ya too. Now, hop off, would ya? I'm getting' dinnah started in a tick." 

Scout pulled back, fueled with a new excitement as he beamed brightly. 

"Aw hell yeah!" 

[cheesylov]

LADIES AND GENTLEMEN I HAVE OFFICIALLY WROTE MY FIRST EVER MILKPLANE FANFIC, SO SIT BACK AND ENJOY

Welcome home soldier

It's finally time for Steven to go on leave for the army, this wasn't anything new to him, while he was packing his uniform his dad walked in

"Hey boy I see your packing you things"

"Yup, making sure I've got everything I need"

"I hope everything goes well boy, stay safe" he patted Stevens shoulder gently

"Of course it will, this ain't my first rodeo, I'm sure everything will me fine"

"Man Im surprised Francis is so calm about this"

Suddenly something clicked in Steven, he forgot to tell Francis he was going on leave, and he's never went on leave while in a relationship, god how was he gonna tell him, his face shifted into one of worry

"Something wrong boy?"

"Dammit I forgot to tell Francis I was gonna go on leave" he pinched the bridge of his nose mumbling

"Ah don't worry boyo I can tell him for you, I'm sure he'll take it just fine"

"You sure dad? I know he's a deadpan son of a bitch but he's still got feelings"

"He's a grown man, he'll understand, I promise"

"If you say so then, I trust you".

A few hours later it was time for Steven to leave, he hugged his dad tightly before walking off

"Bye dad!"

"Bye son! Be safe!"

In that moment Francis walked up to mclooy

"Mmm morning Mr. Mclooy, where's Steven going this early? It's a Saturday"

"He's going on leave-"

Francises face went to one of shock

"He's what!?"

"Yeah, bein in the army means you gotta go on leave"

Francis ran out the apartment as fast as he could, he at least wanted to say goodbye.

Steven was just about to go before he felt something grab his hand, he turned around to see Francis looking worried

"Hey Franci, you goo-"

Before he could finish his sentence he was cut off my Francis

"Your going on leave!?"

Steven wasn't used to Francis raising his voice, so that slightly shook him

"Yeah, sorry I forgot to tell you, I was just busy getting ready"

Francises heart ached, he hated seeing Steven leave, especially when it was for a long period of time

"When will you be back?"

"I promise to be back soon, I should be back in like 2 months, it's a short leave"

Francises heart was being ripped apart, his eyes swelled with tears

"What if something happens to you? What if you get hurt!?... Or worse... What if you don't come back?"

"Oh Francis, you don't need to worry, I'll be fine... I promise"

Francis gently took off Stevens glasses to see his green eyes for the last time this month, he gently put a hand on his cheek and planted a kiss on Stevens forehead

"I love you" the only words that could come out of Francises mouth without breaking down

"I love you too Francis" Steven gave Francis a warm smile before putting his glasses back and and hugged Francis

"Be safe... Please"

"I will, trust me, I'll come back in one piece"

They shared one last good hug before Francis had to watch Steven leave, he could feel his heart ache with nothing but worry, Francis sighed and went back into the apartment hoping things will turn out fine

|a few weeks later|

It has already been two weeks and all the residents of the apartment were getting worried for Francis, they only every saw him when he delivered milk but on weekends or days off he wasn't anywhere to be seen, they would check up on him and it's almost like everyday he just got worse and worse, yes he wasn't exactly social but he would at least stop and chat a bit, but now he doesn't speak a word whenever somebody asked him anything, another few days like this and mclooy thought he would try and see if he could talk to Francis

The next day mclooy knocks on Francises door

"Open up boy it's me"

There was an unsettling silence before the door slightly creeked open

"Mmm, what do you want?"

"You look like shit"

"Oh gee I haven't noticed" he rolled his eyes

"Boy can we talk? What has been up with you lately? You never leave your apartment"

"What do you think it is?" He spat at mclooy

"Well I was just tryin to be nice"he crossed his arms

" ugh, I'm sorry it's just that..." Francis trailed off, words couldn't describe on how much he missed Steven "I just really miss Steven..." He looked down, simply talking about him made him want to break down

"Don't you send letters?"

"I do but.... It's not the same"Francis was now wishing these two months would go by as fast as they could, he leaned over the door and rubbed his face" I'm just... Scared"

"Scared of what?"

Francis sat down on the sofa looking up and the ceiling, mclooy followed in and sat down next to Francis

"I'm just scared something might happen to Steven... What if he gets hurt?.... What if he doesn't come back at all" Francis looked away, he could feel the tears in his eyes swell up like crazy

"Oh don't be silly Francis, he'll be fine"

"How could you be so sure? How come your so calm about this? Your own son is at the risk of getting hurt!"

Mclooy sighed and took a drag of his cigarette blowing out a large Cloud of smoke

"Because I know him, this ain't the first time he's went on leave, he's done it many times, I just got used to it and you should too, If your gonna date my son then you need to understand that this is his job, he can't just stop because your feelings got hurt"

Francis took that in, his words cut deep, but he was right, he was acting like a baby about this, but there was that feeling that he couldn't shake off, he loved Steven and cared for him, almost too much, but seeing how mclooy took this as an average thing he thought he should too

"I know you care for him but I assure you hes fine"

Francis sighed and looked over at mclooy

"Yeah I guess your right, Im sorry I've been like this, I guess I'm just not used to him not being around, but I'll try not to worry as much"

"Atta boy, now promise me to take things easier from now on"

"I will... ".

|7 weeks later|

7 weeks and Francis is still really sad to not see Steven, he still misses him but he tries to talk and open up more, at least he can actually hold a conversation with someone, Francis had marked the days on his calendar waiting, aching, for the day Steven comes back, he looked over at the cat clock that hanged off his wall, 10pm, he should get some sleep, he got dressed into his pj's and before he tucked himself under the covers he looked over the calendar one more time

"One more week, one more week" at that he sighed and drifted off to sleep.

|two days later|

Everyone was in their apartments while mclooy was outside, he was waiting for Steven, apparently he was getting off early, after a hour of waiting a familiar sound of boots hitting the ground was heard, mclooy looked up to see Steven running up

"Dad!"

"Steven!"

They hugged tightly, Steven missed his dad dearly

"How has it been since I was gone?"

"Pretty good, except Francis didn't take it too well, stuck in his apartment ever since you left"

Steven sighed

"Felt like that was going to happen, but I'm finally back, good to be home"

Mclooy whistled

Francis was in his apartment when he looked out the window to see where the whistle came from, when he saw Steven outside his eyes lit up like fireworks, he didn't waste any time, he ran down the stairs as fast as he could pushing everyone that was in his way

Once he was outside Steven held out his arms

"Francis!"

"Steven!"

Francis ran and threw his arms around Steven pulling him into a bone breaking embrace, Steven swooped Francis off his feet and spun him around, they laughed and tears ran down Francises cheeks, but not tears of worry or sorrow, tears of pure joy, he could finally smile again knowing his favorite person was back home

Steven put Francis down and took off his sunglasses looking into Francises tear stained eyes

"I missed you so so much... And now your home"

"I am, and I missed you more then you can imagine"

Francis wasted no time and pulled Steven into a loving kiss on the lips, their noses fitting like a perfect puzzle,he usually wasn't this lovey but he couldn't help it, he missed him too much, Steven pulled him closer as he practically melted into the kiss, he missed his home, his dad ,but he definitely missed loving Francis, Francis broke the kiss and looked at Steven, a soft smile creeping up on Francises face

"There's that smile... " Steven gently put his hands of Francises cheek and Francis held Stevens hand closer to his cheek

"Now why don't we get inside, it's getting cold"

"You two done yet?"

"Don't worry we're done dad"

Francis held Stevens hand and they walked into the apartment, everyone was happy to see Steven back, everyone was greeting and hugging him, when Steven got to his apartment he looked over at Francis, Francis slightly blushed as he looked down

"Hey... Can I stay the night and your place?"

Steven looked over at mclooy

"Fine by me"

Francis smiled and followed Steven inside his apartment, they lived right next to each other so it felt the same

|hours later|

It's night time so that means time to sleep, Steven could finally sleep in a comfy bed

Francis climbed under the covers and Steven slid in burying his face into Francises neck, Francis ran his fingers through Stevens hair, he really missed this

"Ready for bed?"

"You bet your ass"

They snuggled up warmly with each other and gave each other a kiss goodnight before falling asleep safely into each others arms

Mclooy walked by Stevens room and peeked Through the crack of the door

Steven and Francis were fast asleep still holding each other

Mclooy chuckled quietly before smiling

"Welcome home soldier."

END.

WOOO THIS TOOK FOREVER, Y'ALL DON'T JUDGE ME THIS IS MY FIRST FANFIC, BUT I HOPE Y'ALL LIKED IT:3

[sentientcave]

Part 1 - Part 2

Contains: Gals being pals, homoerotic speculation, brief mentions of alcohol and kink (conversationally)

SFW - Word Count: ~2.8k

You only had a few days to get used to living with Soap before she was gone again, but now, without her exuberant presence, the apartment feels emptier than it did when it was just you living there. You fall into a familiar pattern, running the occasional errand, but mostly just getting up, getting coffee, going to work and going home. It’s… lonelier than you expected.

You’re not sure when to expect her back. When you’d asked, she’d just laughed. “As long as it takes, kitty. Dinnae worry. I’ll have Katie send ye the rent if I’m no’ back before month end.” She didn’t explain who Katie was, and you were a bit afraid to ask. She’d probably just tell you that it’s a classified matter anyway.

The idea that she could be gone that long, or even longer, makes your stomach clench with worry. Perhaps you’ve only known Jamie for a week or so, really, but she’s already gotten under your skin and made a home for herself. There’s signs of her all over your apartment too— The big green couch, her 3 in 1 soap in the shower (That you’re pretty sure she didn’t use once during the days she’d been there, electing instead to use your products), her winter jacket in the closet, her ‘going out’ boots in the hall. A picture of her and her cousins stuck to the fridge with a Rangers Football Club magnet. It’s the only picture you have of her, and it’s many years old, featuring a gangly, teenaged Jamie that hadn’t filled out into the powerhouse of a woman that you’d met.

You’re wiling away the hours at work, when your favourite barista, Alex, comes in after her shift and chats with you while she browses the romance section. She only ever buys the ones with horny oil paintings on the cover. For the aesthetic, she says, but you're pretty sure she's just a harlequin fan. You can’t blame her. You love a good romance too.

"You ever go to those workshops?" she asks while you’re cashing her out. She gestures at the board behind you. "I've been thinking about going to the ropes one, but haven't worked up the courage to go alone."

"No! I probably should sometime. I think my landlord runs one of them. I'm not sure which though." You slide her books into a paper bag and hand her the receipt.

"Here. I'll give you my number in case you ever want someone to go with. I think it could be fun." She scribbles down her number on the back of her receipt and slides it back across the counter to you with a smile. “I’ve been thinking about—”

The door jangles. “Heya, kitty!” It’s Jamie, grinning ear to ear, a freshly healed scar on her chin and a bandage on her arm, covering half of her SAS tattoo. She sidles past Alex and comes around the counter to hug you tightly. She smells like sweat and gunpowder. She must have come straight to you after getting home. “Missed ya. Been a right slog the last few weeks. Ghost got hisself shot and ugh, he’s all fine out in the field, carryin’ on no problem, but as soon as we’re back at the safe house he’s cryin’ about how much he needs me tae take care of him. Just an absolute wet biscuit of a man.” She glances over at Alex, like she hadn’t even noticed her standing there. “Oh, hello, cutie. Sorry, didnae mean to interrupt.” Her eyes zero in on the reciept with the phone number scrawled across it.

“Oh, it’s, um, it’s fine,” Alex says nervously. “Are you— Um—”

“Alex, this is Jamie. She’s my new roommate. Jamie, Alex. She works at the coffee shop down the way.”

Jamie sticks a hand out, but leaves her other arm wrapped around you. “Nice ta meet you. Been in there a couple times but ye must work the mornin’ shift, aye? I’m always due on base early mornin’.”

“So, you’re, um, military?” Alex asks. She winces slightly when Soap shakes her hand.

“Sure am. Sorry, hen, didnae mean to squeeze so hard. Ye get used to it bein’ a bloody cock measuring contest with the lads on base. Gotta adjust for civvies.” She smiles apologetically. “What were you girlies goin’ on about before I came in? Don’t want to leave your conversation unfinished before I get to monopolizin’ our girl’s time, aye?”

“We were just talking about the workshops. On the board. Alex mentioned that she was thinking about going to the ropes one.”

“Is that the one yer handsome landlord runs?” Soap asked. “And is it like, knots for boats and whatnot, or the fun kind? Wouldnae mind tyin’ ye up, kitty.”

“I’m… Not sure. It’s kind of unclear, but there’s an email listed. I’ll get some clarification.” You give Soap a side-long glance. She looks a bit more excited than you’re sure what to do with. “And besides that, there’s no way I’m letting you tie me up.”

The light in her eyes only gets more intense. “You gonna tie me up, kitty? Have yer way with me?”

Alex clears her throat, looking a bit nervous. “Well, um. I’ll see you around. Text me and let me know about the course. Or if you just want to hang out. I’m free after one like every day.”

“I can also keep you apprised of when we get a truck-load of harlequins in, give you the first go through,” you say. “I’ll see you Wednesday, eh?”

“Yeah. Bright and early.” She smiles at you. “And, um, nice to meet you, Jamie the roommate.”

“See ye around, Alex the coffee girl.” Soap waited for the door to close behind Alex before she spoke again. “Looks like she’s got a little crush on ye, kitty. Didnae know I had so much competition.”

You roll your eyes. “She doesn’t. She’s just being friendly.”

“Oh sure, kitty. Me too.” Soap withdrew a step and leaned against the counter. “Ye want to come out for a pint tonight? It’s a tradition, with me and the lads. We go out, get blootered, captain goes home early, Gaz flirts with someone’s girlfriend, and then we have a scrap outside an’ Ghost breaks it up. Ye can help him, it’ll be good ta have another voice’f reason to balance us out.”

“I think a pint is a far cry from, er, getting blootered,” you say, laughing. “But sure. I don’t start work till eleven tomorrow. I can stand to get a little silly. So long as you’re sure the lads don’t mind. I don’t want to overstep.”

“No’ possible. They like you a lot. Maybe a little too much, if ye ask me. I’m goan to head home and get cleaned up, aye? Do ye mind if I eat the leftovers in the fridge? I’m starvin’.”

“You already ate them, didn’t you?” you ask. There was really no other reason why she would know that there were leftovers to eat.

“Weal. Yes. But yer a kind soul, kitty. I knew ye’d say yes. I’ll buy all yer drinks tonight tae make up for it.”

“Oh fine,” you say. It’s hard to even imagine being mad at her. You suspect that it’s a waste of energy, when she’s just a big puppy dog of a person. Scolding her for anything isn’t likely to change her behaviour, it’s just going to make her feel terrible during the scolding. And you don’t quite have the heart to scold Soap, with her big blue eyes. “I was going to go round to the shops tonight, so maybe you can go tomorrow? I have a list, and I can give you money for it. I just work till five and I won’t have a chance.”

“I can do tha’, kitty. When d’ye get off work today? Three?”

“Five. A couple more hours. Shouldn’t be long.”

“Hours! Aw, c’mon, kitty.” She pouted, as though that were going to get you out of work any faster. “Can’t ye close up early? There’s no one here.”

“Jamie, it’s my job. If I closed up early every time I felt like it I wouldn’t have a job for very long, and then you’d be the one looking for a new roommate.”

Jamie grumbled about how she wouldn’t let that happen, as if she had any control over the state of your finances, but headed home to shower without too much more complaining, although she rather disconcertingly mentioned offhand, as she was heading out the door, that she would go through your closet and find you something cute to wear. You really hoped that didn’t mean pull everything out of your dresser drawers and make a mess.

Things pick up at the shop enough to keep you from dwelling on what Jamie was up to— And she was uncharacteristically quiet on her end as well, only texting you once with a blurry picture of Red Herring scampering down the hallway captioned with CREATURE SIGHTING, and a second one of her and Red cuddled up on the couch, faces smushed together. You take a sneaky picture of a customer with a yellow coat and bright orange boots with Big Bird: Confirmed written across it. You’re careful to leave their face out of frame, but you do feel a bit bad about it, and elect to ‘accidentally’ not ring through one of the books, giving it to them for free instead. The return text makes your transgression against public decency almost worth it.

LMFAOOO&lt;

Finally, it’s time to lock up the store and walk home. It gets dark early now, and the sun is already setting over your street, the shadows growing long, the gold light of dusk painting the edges of the clouds, and the buildings with a little gilt paint. It feels good to know that Jamie’s home. You feel like you can breathe properly again, like you’d been holding your breath for weeks and weeks, not knowing if she was alright. You’d been sleepwalking through your days, and you’re finally awake again, able to appreciate the colour of the sky and the half-familiar and familiar faces you walk by. You know you must be smiling, because you get plenty of smiles in return.

Happiness is an infectious thing.

You check the mailbox for the usual pile of flyers and bills, and sort through them on the way up the stairs. Mostly just junk, and your internet and credit card bills. And an envelope with so many stamps on it that your address is written off to the side in cramped letters. There’s no return address on it.

You unlock the door and drop your bag to the side, in it’s usual spot. Soap’s work boots are neatly placed beside the nearly identical ‘going out’ boots, dusty and worn in from the weeks away. Jamie is sitting at the table, scribbling in a notebook, Red Herring sitting on the table beside her, bapping at the end of her pen every time it approaches his side of the notebook.

"Hm-- Oh! Hi, kitty!" Jamie closes the notebook, tucking her pen inside, and gets up from her seat at the table. Her hair is wet, down around her shoulders to air dry, and she's wearing a tank top and a pair of black boxer shorts with a skull pelvis on them. You suspect that they belong to Ghost. The idea that he wears skulls all the way down to his skivvies makes you like him even more.

Are they dating? You're not sure what the rules are for military relationships, but you suspect that a lieutenant dating a sergeant is not allowed under usual circumstances. Not that you could blame them. Ghost is huge and actually pretty sweet, under the growly voice and mask. He was covered in cat hair by the time he'd gone home, all those weeks ago, because Red liked him so much. And Jamie was a tall, beautiful, muscled-up amazon woman. And they had their whole warriors bond thing going on. It wouldn't be a surprise for them to be interested in each other. The flirting she’s been doing with you is likely no more than just playful fun. You don’t really mind, you just have to keep yourself from reading into it too much.

“Welcome home, by the way,” you say as Soap grabs you into an even tighter hug than before. “I missed you. And I was starting to get worried.”

“You didnae get my letter?” she asked.

“Letter?” you ask. You hold up the envelope with all the stamps. “This?”

“Oh! Guess it didnae make it back before I did. No time to read it right now, kitty. Ye’ve got ta get ready.” She pulls the stack of mail from your hand and tosses it down on the counter before dragging you down the hallway towards your room.

“Do I have time to shower?” you ask mildly.

“Do ye need to?” Soap leans in and sniffs you audibly, trying not to laugh. “Smell fine to me, kitty.”

You giggle and swat her away. “I could smell better."

“Bah. Fine. I’ll wait in yer room, I found a few cute outfits for ye.”

“You don’t have to. I’ll be a few, if you want to get ready yourself.”

“Psshh, it only takes me a minute. Want ye to help me with my eyeliner too, if you don’t mind. Ye do that little swooptie thing? Whenever I try tha’ I cannae get them even.”

“Of course.”

You shower and towel dry your body, before you wrap it around yourself. It's one of those nice extra big ones that actually covers everything. You bought it after making a mad dash across the hall when Fern's boyfriend was staying over, trying not to flash him, and made the decision immediately after to not go through that kind of stress again. He had become a too-regular presence in your home to ignore in the months before Fern moved in with him.

Jamie makes you try on five different outfits before letting you settle on a skirt that hits around the knee and a flowy yellow tank top, and she finally goes to get dressed herself while you dab on makeup and fix your hair. After weeks apart, having Soap back is refreshing, even if she does have a low tolerance for personal space. Out in the field, that closeness is probably necessary, it probably keeps her and her teammates alive, but here it only serves to fluster you and set your off balance. Jamie doesn’t seem at all aware what effect she has on you, and her flippant, flirty comments don’t help matters either.

Helping her do her makeup is the trickiest part, really. She’s twitchy and fidgety, and you end up pinning her flat to the flat to your bed, one hand holding her jaw and the other holding your eyeliner pen, a knee on either side of her rib cage. The angle is awkward when you do the other eye, and you have to lean in closer, steadying your wrist against her forehead. You don’t remove your hand from her jaw until you’ve finished either, well aware that she’ll start talking the moment you release her and make it impossible to finish up neatly.

“There!” you say, sitting back to admire your handiwork. She blinks up at you for a long moment, her blue eyes made all the more bright by the contrasting band of black on her upper lid. “Actually—” You twist and grab your makeup bag, and grab her face again, adding a swipe of peachy pink lip-gloss to her mouth.

Uncharacteristically, she just lays there for a moment, still quiet, looking dazed and flushed. For a moment, you feel a rush of… Well, you would hesitate to call it euphoria, but there’s a certain satisfaction in rendering Soap speechless and pink, when she’s an amazon, and you’re just a round little woman who’s idea of a workout is stocking shelves and crating books around.

But then again, you are sitting directly on her diaphragm, and you know you aren’t light. “Oh, goodness, I’m squishing you, aren’t I?” you scramble to get off of her, and offer her a helping hand up. “We should get going.”

“Right. Yeah. O’course, kitty. Let’s go.” She pulls in a deep breath, shaking off the daze, her familiar devastating grin sliding back into place. “Wouldnae want to keep the lads waiting, aye?”

Maybe it’s just wishful thinking, but you think, just maybe, she does want to keep them waiting. You snag a cardigan from your closet and stop to to give Redd Herring a scritch behind the ears before you follow her out into the hallway and lock up the apartment.

She offers you her arm, like she’s some kind of gentleman (which she would not be, even if she was a man), and you take it, looking forward to the night out.

***

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Any other graphics used are canva elements