#outer x stave

[auroravictorium]

question...? (k.b.)

Do you wish you could still touch her?

Summary: set prior to the midnights series, this is "you're on your own, kid" from kaz's pov! kaz spends much of his time at the crow club thinking about you, and he wishes he could do something other than think and watch from afar. Pairing(s): kaz x fem!reader (pining by kaz) Word Count: ~2.4k Warnings: violence [blood, stab wounds], death of unimportant character, drinking by jesper, inej and reader, mentions of past trauma [nearly drowning, death of sibling] and explicit mentions of kaz's haphephobia Genre: pretty fluffy until kaz finds reader

Author's Note: i have returned with a gift - "you're on your own, kid" told from kaz's pov, as promised! and happy trailer release day everyone! (i haven't recovered, how are you guys doing) only 26 days until the actual season comes out hehehe. by the way, HIGHLY recommend reading "you're on your own, kid" before reading this for more context! happy reading loves <3

you're on your own, kid (reader's pov) / grishaverse masterlist

Kaz hated patrolling the Crow Club on a good night, and he hated it even more when the patrons were rowdy and the walkways crowded. The Club was sweltering with the heat of the muggy summer and of moving, laughing bodies. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, and he longed to be anywhere else; each time someone stumbled into him as they tried to move to another table, he wanted to either vomit or toss them outside for a dip in the East Stave.

He roamed the floor, eyes scanning for fake coins and card blunders. Right away, he knew tonight would be a good night for the Club: tonight's gamblers were eager, impatient, and careless. They slid kruge after kruge onto the table, hoping the luck would turn in their favor, only for them to wind up broke when they made reckless moves. Only the thought of money filling the Dregs' coffers kept him from spiraling into a completely terrible mood.

Every so often, his eyes flicked toward the bar, hoping to catch you at work. If he was lucky, you'd look his way, and he'd get the chance to see you offer him the ghost of a smile while you poured drinks or cleaned glasses. You were the patrons' favorite, and it wasn't difficult for Kaz to understand why. You offered each one a smile and made cheerful conversation while making their drinks; if they were inebriated enough to be making emotional confessions or trying their luck at getting close to you, you would reach over and give them a reassuring pat on the shoulder or hand, and you would pull away with a watch or necklace slipped under your sleeve. The patron would be none the wiser, give you a tip for the excellent service, then return to his table and continue gambling away his earnings.

Kaz couldn't have chosen anyone better to work the watered-down bar, except tonight, you weren't there. Your absence was unusual; rarely were you late or missing without reason, but he refused to consider the worst. You could handle yourself. Behind your kind smile was ruthlessness, and he knew what it could do. He'd recruited you for a reason.

He circled the Club again, trying to get his mind off you, but he spotted you hurrying inside and through the crowds of patrons on his third loop around the outer ring of tables. You reached the bar and immediately got to work, and Kaz's grip loosened on his cane when he saw you were unharmed. His knuckles ached, and he looked down at his gloved hand. Had he really held on that tightly?

Kaz crossed to the bar after a few minutes and tapped his cane against the ground to get your attention. You jumped and turned to face him. He scanned you from head to toe, taking in your mussed hair and slightly wrinkled clothing. He gave no outward reaction to your tardy, disheveled appearance, but again, the part of him that shouldn't have been concerned about you was relieved. "You're late," he finally said. 

"I overslept," you responded. Your fingers fidgeted at your sides, and Kaz could tell you were waiting for him to snap. It was the reputation he'd carefully tended and let grow, and he knew he should uphold it. He should tell you that it was unacceptable, warn you that he didn't tolerate even a moment of lateness. Lateness on a job would get you killed. Lateness in the Club would lose the Dregs money.

But, Saints damn him, he couldn't bring himself to say anything of the sort to you. As he surveyed you, that softness and concern he felt for you made itself known once again, just like it had each time he'd seen you in the past six months. At first, it was his heart beating a bit faster. Now, it was his breathing catching and his pulse roaring in his ears when you looked up at him. His palms got sweatier in his gloves, and he was struck with the sudden urge to gently dab away the bead of sweat that had formed on your temple. 

He didn't know what was worse, the sharp spike of fear that ran through him when he realized he wanted to touch you or the resulting nausea that twisted his stomach so harshly that he almost needed to step out of the Club right then. 

"Don't let it happen again," Kaz muttered. He turned and limped away as if he suddenly had something else to work on. He probably did, but he couldn't remember a single one. All he could focus on was his need to get as far away from you as he could before he thought about how beautiful you looked when your hair framed your face and the dim light of the Club sparkled in your eyes.

Damn it. He needed a drink. If distance couldn't keep his head free of you, maybe alcohol could.

Kaz continued his scan of the Club, hoping it would distract him from the way his heart raced in his chest each time he thought of your name. He positioned himself near one of the busiest tables and looked over the cards each of the gamblers held. For a bit, the distraction worked, and then he made the mistake of looking over at you again.

Jesper had made his way over from the door and was ruffling your hair with a grin, and you were grimacing and swatting at his hand. The two of you looked happy to be bickering, and Jesper threw his arm around you and grinned with a shot in his hand. He teased you about something, and you shushed him before ducking under his arm and scowling.

Kaz forced himself to look away and unclench his jaw. Something had come over him when he saw the two of you. It burned beneath his skin so fiercely that it took most of his self-control to keep himself where he was instead of going behind the bar and shoving Jesper away from you. He didn't know where the urge came from. All he knew was that he wanted to be the one with his arm around you, but terror drenched him like ice-cold water, reminding him that he couldn't be that close to you. His chest tightened with panic, and he returned his gaze to the cards of the men in front of him.

The attempt to ignore you didn't last. He looked up again and watched as Jesper left with another ruffle of your hair and a smile. Fresh anger sparked within him, and his grip tightened on the crow's head of his cane. He took a deep breath and turned his back on the rest of the Club. What the hell is happening?

He had never felt like this, like any semblance of control he had over his emotions was crumbling. Kaz prided himself on his ability to keep his shit together, yet here he was, moments away from snapping. On the outside, he was as stoic as ever, all clenched jaw and sharp eyes. Inside, he was fighting a battle that should have been easily decided. The rational side of him knew he could not afford distractions, but part of him longed to be the one close to you.

The irrational side of him considering such things should have drowned with Kaz Rietveld in the harbor.

The rest of Kaz's time at the Club was an agonizing battle to keep himself calm and bring himself back to rationality. He firmly refused to look your way and even made a detour along the East Stave on his way home to clear his head. He moved slowly along the canal, partly to buy himself time to avoid seeing you with Jesper and partly because the damned humidity made the pain in his leg nearly unbearable. As he limped toward the Slat, he wondered what was wrong with him. Usually, he could banish thoughts of you without a problem. He'd been able to for the past six months since he became aware of a nagging tenderness for you in the pit of his stomach.

He entered the Slat in a terrible mood and intended to walk right past Jesper and Inej in the corner with their drinks. He wanted nothing more than to be left alone to plot a new job and get his mind off you. 

"Boss! Did you get the last of 'em?"

The Saints were laughing at him. He was sure of it. Kaz clenched his jaw and slowly turned. His eyes glinted with the promise of violence, but Jesper, bless him, either didn't notice or didn't care about Kaz's exceptionally foul mood. "What?"

"The men with the fake money." Jesper swirled his drink around in his glass and knocked the rest of it back. Inej passed the rest of hers to him, shaking her head. "I told Y/N-"

Something crashed into the floor above them, and Kaz's head snapped upward. He held up a hand to silence Jesper. Footsteps scuffled against the ground, and more thumps rattled the ceiling. Dust shook free from between the floorboards, which wasn't out of character for the dilapidated Slat. The loud noises definitely were, and the hair on the back of Kaz's neck prickled.

His gut twisted, but not with nausea. Later, Inej would call it a sign from the Saints, but Kaz preferred to call it intuition. He bolted up the stairs toward the attic, ignoring the agony in his leg and Jesper and Inej leaping up to follow him. Kaz knew. He knew something was wrong and that you were hurt, and he wouldn't let his damn leg stop him from figuring out what was happening.

A few Dregs peeked out of their rooms when they heard the commotion and saw Kaz, Inej, and Jesper rushing past to get up to the attic. Some followed, drawing their weapons, and they nearly tumbled into each other to follow Kaz through his office and into his room. Inej and Jesper readied their own weapons but stopped when Kaz held out his cane to block them.

You stood over a body, your clothing and face splattered with blood and your chest heaving. Your hand was red to the wrist, and a dagger dangled from your fingertips. Red drops beaded against your skin and fell to the ground.

You raised your blade again as Dregs poured into Kaz's room, your eyes darting nervously between them. For a moment, you were completely still, then you seemed to realize there was no danger. Your arm dropped to your side and hung limp, and your gaze went unfocused as blood spread rapidly through the shoulder of your shirt.

"Saints," Jesper breathed beside Kaz, taking in the scene. An assassin had gotten into the Slat and was no doubt going for Kaz. The Dime Lions were growing bolder. Nobody seemed quite sure what to do about that, and their utter shock at the incident rendered them unresponsive to your dagger hitting the floor.

"Get Nina," Kaz said, looking over his shoulder and scowling at the wide-eyed Dregs behind him. With some satisfaction, he watched them flinch. They deserved a lot more than a scowl for leaving you to fight alone. You idiots should have helped her. Maybe she wouldn't have been injured if you had. "Now," he added sharply, waiting for them to move.

They left, nearly tripping over themselves to get out of Kaz's line of fire. 

Kaz returned his attention to you and started to limp toward you. He looked between you and the dead Dime Lion, then his gaze lingered on the deep wound in your shoulder. His lips pursed with worry. "Grab her," he said, directing the order at Inej and Jesper and surprising himself with how softly the words came out. 

He wanted to reach out and hold you against him as if he could shield you from the man you'd killed. But the harbor, ever-present, threatened to sweep him away for even daring to think such a thing. He was suddenly nine years old again, clinging to his brother while bodies floated around him. The memory, cold and terrifyingly real, forced him to look away from you and down at the blood seeping into his floor. Why is blood easier to take in than the thought of touching you?

Inej and Jesper moved forward to grab you and led you into Kaz's office, away from the carnage. Kaz stayed, looking down at the Dime Lion and trying to think of a response to the events of the evening.

Yet, even as his mind spun with ideas for how to handle this and exact revenge on the Dime Lions in the most painful way possible, he thought of you. You had taken down a man twice your size without backup. You were wounded. You were covered in blood. You would have a nasty scar if Nina didn't tend to the wound soon.

You had potentially saved Kaz's life.

Kaz moved to the doorway to his office, leaning heavily on his cane. His leg seared with pain now, aggravated from his sprint up the stairs to get to you, and he bore most of his weight on his left leg as he settled against the doorway and examined you.

Nina was hard at work healing your wound, and you pressed one hand to your injured shoulder to keep it immobile. Inej and Jesper were starting to wipe away the blood on your face and neck and whispering back and forth. Despite the activity around you, you looked up and met his gaze.

Kaz's breath caught as you met his stare. He tried to think of something to say, anything. But words failed him, as they often did when you were involved, so he settled for a quick nod to acknowledge what you'd done. It wasn't enough, and he knew that.

But as he watched some color return to your face, his shoulders loosened. He would get the chance to thank you properly someday, and he would make sure it would be enough then.

TAGLIST: @tonberry-yoda, @b3kk3r-by-br3kk3r, @futurecorps3

[nightqueen1221]

If ur requests are still open can I get a korekiyo shinguji x easily flustered touch starved reader (gender neutral if possible)

-He is certainly touch-staved as well.

-That being said, he hates when people touch him. Strangers at least, unless it's something pertaining to anthropology.

-It's also very likely his sister harmed him physically, and getting touched brings back unwanted memories of the hospital she was at.

-His sister once more makes it difficult to engage in physical contact with someone again.

-Once you both start warming up to touches, he's super hesitant but quickly adapts to your body.

-When cuddling he pets the back of your head with his other hand on your outer thigh or hip.

-The mans is tall so he'll probably hug you with his hands around your head or shoulders.

-If you are somehow about the same height or taller, he rests his hands around your waist before pulling closer.

-The fact you get flustered easily makes him want to do it even more.

-Just slight touches such as his hand lightly caressing your chin or (if it can be done) tucking hair behind your ear.

-Overall, he loves these moments of touch and comfort.

[dameronscopilot]

'Twas the Night

Santiago "Pope" Garcia x f!reader

Summary: Any time that you find yourself assigned to a mission with Santiago Garcia and his crew, he never fails to get under your skin. But when the boys leave you to your own devices one frigid Christmas Eve, your burning tension might just finally reach the end of its rope.

Word Count: 2.6k

Rating: 18+ EXPLICIT

Content: NSFW, smut, enemies to lovers, unprotected p in v, choking, spit kink, rough sex, thigh riding, switch vibes, santiago garcia's shitty ass knees, Delta Force!Santiago

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and you were fucking stirring alright—visions of strangling Santiago Garcia dancing in your head. 

Prompt: Trying to stay warm

DECK THE HALLS MASTERLIST

“Fuck you, Garcia,” you grumble, halfheartedly kicking an empty bottle of beer in Santiago’s direction, watching the light from the fire reflect off of the glass as it rolls to a stop against the toe of his boot.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” he quips, taking one last swig from the remaining dregs at the bottom of his own bottle before tossing it aside. 

It’s way too goddamn fucking cold for this. 

It’s Christmas Eve, and you’re two weeks into a mission you’ve been assigned to with Santiago and his crew. It’s not the first time that you’ve worked with them, and while you get on just fine with Ben, Frankie, and Will, Santiago is an entirely different story. Perhaps it’s the sheer fact that you technically outrank him by a hair, though you still let him take the lead in the field time and time again without complaint, but the man is always looking to pick a fight with you. 

You let your gaze fall to the lopsided, makeshift Christmas tree sitting on the ground beside you—Benny had tied together several branches from a pine tree earlier and decorated it with aluminum shapes that he’d cut out from a can with his pocket knife. Frankie spent an hour grumbling over how he’d pilfered his last can of Coke to do so, but he’d still shuffled over later, rolling his eyes as he added a piece of paper folded into the shape of a star to the top of it. Will had hastily pulled a red bandana out of his backpack, topping off the display with the closest thing you’d get to a tree skirt out here.

Following an early morning of recon, the three of them turned in for a surprisingly early night, somehow trusting that the magic of Christmas would help you to abstain from the urge to tackle Santiago into the fire pit. 

Returning your attention back to the annoyance in question, you bite back, “You couldn’t handle me.”

Without giving him the chance to respond, you abruptly stand up, brushing off your pants and heading for your tent. 

Though you’re hesitant to lose any clothing, sleeping in your dense outer layers is less than desirable, so you strip down to the thermal clothing that you’re wearing over your underwear, quickly diving under the covers. However, as you begin to rub your forearms to stave off the chill, you hear the distinct sound of crunching leaves underfoot, followed by an insistent tapping against the outside of your tent.

“You still awake?” Santi asks.

Groaning, you respond, “I guess I am.”

He tugs the zipper open wide enough to pop his head inside, eyes meeting yours in the dull glow cast by the battery-operated lantern sitting beside you. 

“Frankie’s snoring,” he supplies by way of explanation for his uninvited intrusion.

“I could have been naked,” you deadpan. 

Santi’s fingers pause on their journey to pull the zipper lower, and he raises an eyebrow. “You’re naked under there?”

“I can’t tell if you’re stupid, or if you think I’m stupid,” you grumble, burrowing down further into your sleeping bag.

“Benny sleeps naked when he’s not sharing a tent,” Santi shrugs, stepping inside. 

You don’t bother inquiring how or why he knows that. “Well, I’d rather not freeze to death. Where the hell’s your sleeping bag?”

Scratching the back of his head, a sheepish expression crosses his face. “I think Frankie must have grabbed it in his sleep, because he’s got a death grip on it right now.”

‘Twas the night before Christmas, and you were fucking stirring alright—visions of strangling Santiago Garcia dancing in your head. 

If only because trekking back down the mountains you hiked in through with Santiago’s frozen body in a duffel bag would be a complete and utter hindrance, you growl as you fight with the zipper of your sleeping bag, gesturing toward the small sliver of space you’ve made for him with a dramatic flourish of your hand.

Santi climbs in beside you after kicking off his shoes and shrugging off his jacket, and you will yourself to ignore the way your traitorous heart skips a beat at his close proximity, the heat of his breath skimming across the bridge of your nose. Because for as much as Santiago drives you up a wall, you’re undeniably attracted to the man, which only further stokes the flames of your perpetual annoyance with him. 

His hair tickles your forehead as he settles his head down on the other side of your pillow, and you’re unfortunately reminded of the way your eyes had immediately clocked the new gray strands that had sprouted up amongst his curls when you arrived at the mission briefing.  

In an attempt to stamp down whatever nonsense is flooding through your brain, likely thanks to your half-frozen state, you mutter, “Isn’t sleeping out here in the cold, on the ground, bad for your shitty ass knees?”

He’s so close you can feel the rumbling of his chest as he chuckles, “You’d be surprised by what I can handle.”

Your face burns at the implication, a stark contrast to the chill running through the rest of your body, and you make a noncommittal noise in return. 

After a few moments of silence punctuated only by the sounds of your shivering body rustling against the sleeping bag, Santi helpfully supplies, “You’re freezing.”

“They weren’t kidding when they said you specialize in observational skills, Garcia,” you snap with a roll of your eyes, though it’s not nearly as condescending as you mean for it to sound thanks to the way your teeth are violently chattering. 

“Come closer,” Santi beckons, lifting an arm up. 

“Was getting into my sleeping bag not enough for you?” you retort, studiously trying to ignore the way your limbs long for his body heat. 

Running his other hand over his chin, Santi grouses, “You love being a fucking brat.”

Before you can think twice about what you’re doing, you reach out, firmly grasping the collar of his shirt. Noses brushing, you hiss, “Say it again, Santiago.”

He tilts his head slightly, a lazy grin spreading across mouth, and his lips ghost over yours as he murmurs, “You’re. A Fucking. Brat.”

Looking back, most of your contentious interactions and arguments with Santiago over the years have oozed with sexual tension. Enough, in fact, that you’re well aware the boys have had an ongoing bet for how long it’ll finally take the two of you to fuck it out. And that alone has been reason enough for you to stubbornly ignore the hot, simmering feeling in your gut whenever he’s near. 

But now? Now, you suddenly decide that you simply don’t care. And perhaps it’s because the warm caress of his breath against your cheek is like a siren song to your cold and weary bones. Or maybe you just want to see if the sheer arrogance of his suggestive comments is all talk.

Maybe you’re just fucking lonely. 

Regardless of what sends your walls of resistance crumbling down, Santiago must feel it as well, because the moment your tense body relaxes into the press of his limbs against yours, all bets are fucking off. 

He cups the back of your head and kisses you hard.

Your lips meet much like the way the two of you toss words back and forth—it’s combative and heated. It’s relentless. It’s hungry. 

It’s far easier than you thought it would be. 

It’s a goddamn relief.

Santiago’s mouth moves against yours like he wants to consume you, teeth earnestly nipping at your bottom lip and tongue assertively tangling with yours. The smell from the fire lingers heavily on him, mixed with undertones of a scent that’s distinctly him. It throws you off guard, the way it invades your senses.

As your mouths continue to slide together, you find that you’re plastered against Santiago’s solid frame, and one of his hands slides down your side, stopping to curl around your hip. Both of you shift at the same time, and his thigh slides between your legs. At the feeling of him pressed against your hot center, you can’t help the small gasp that escapes your lips, your body instinctively arching into the pleasurable touch.

An appreciative sound leaves Santi’s throat, and he tightens his grip on your hip, leaning in to whisper in your ear, “Go ahead.”

Far beyond the pretense of petulant remarks for the sake of animosity, the only thing that leaves your mouth is a brazen moan as you allow yourself to grind down on Santiago’s muscled thigh. Even through the layers of clothing between you, your cunt throbs at the rough drag across your folds, sliding in the wet pool of arousal soaking your underwear.

“Fuck,” Santiago grunts as you roll your hips into him, chasing the embers flaring brightly in your abdomen. 

He slides a hand up your shirt, and goosebumps spread across your skin at the feeling of his cool hands caressing your breasts. Still kissing you deeply, he strokes at one of your peaked nipples, pinching down just hard enough to make you moan into his mouth. At that, a trembling wave of pleasure washes over you, and Santi’s hand cups your ass as you ride out your orgasm on his thigh. 

Still far too eager for more, you reach into Santi’s pants, anticipation dancing up your spine when you wrap your hands around his thick cock. He groans, rutting into your touch, and you begin to stroke his shaft. 

“Wanna fuck you,” Santi breaths out, hands skating across your waistband.

Far more concerned about things other than preserving your body heat inside of the sleeping bag, you flip it open, and your arms and legs are a messy tangle of limbs as you nearly tear each other’s clothes off, lips meeting needily in between each and every discarded article tossed to the wayside. 

Santiago’s hands begin to roam across your naked body, though he eventually stops, placing a finger beneath your chin and tipping it upward. His tone is even when he says, “Get on your hands and knees.”

And so you fall into line for him, planting yourself firmly on the ground as Santiago lines himself up behind you. You have half a mind to nudge the pillow backward in his direction, well aware of the state of his knees, but something about his complete and utter disregard for them has you dripping shamelessly as he slides a finger through your folds. If he wants to struggle through the pain for the sake of pounding into you right here on the cold, hard ground, so be it. You’ll milk his cock for all it’s worth in return for his trouble.

You hear Santi spit into his hand, followed by the slick sounds of skin on skin as he fists his cock before notching the head against your fluttering entrance. Impatient, you begin to push backward, keening at the feeling of his shaft slowly slipping inside of you. And clearly he’s well aware of what you want, because he’s hardly halfway into your channel when he roughly snaps  his hips against your ass, burying himself inside of you to the hilt.

“Fuck, Santi,” you cry out, belatedly clapping a hand to your mouth when you remember the three other people sleeping in the tents beside yours.

“You like that?” he asks, fingers digging tightly into your hips as he begins to pump his length in and out of you. 

You collapse forward slightly at the feeling of your tight channel spreading and contracting for his fat cock with each thrust, savoring the scorching feeling of pleasure tearing through your body. 

“Harder,” you pant out.

Santi obliges without question, balls smacking your ass as he ravages your hole with fervor, wet trails of arousal dripping down the backs of your legs. He grunts, hands grasping your backside as he roughly plunges inside of you, and after a particularly deep thrust where his cock slams against your cervix, your legs collapse.

He continues fucking you into the ground as you lie flat beneath him, your body quivering with the tremors of pleasure wracking through it. A hand grasps your throat, squeezing, and Santi doesn’t miss the way your walls needily clench down on his cock as he begins to choke you. But then you feel him shift, and with a hand still wrapped around your neck, he pushes your jaw upward, tilting your head directly backward to see him looking down at you.

“Open,” he says evenly as he continues to drive his shaft into you.

Your lips part for him, and Santiago leans down to spit into your mouth. You swallow his saliva, and he kisses you bruisingly in return. Arching your ass upward to meet him, Santi continues on with his punishing thrusts with his hand at your throat until the coil inside of you snaps once more, leaving you to gush on his cock with an orgasm that leaves the edges of your vision tinged in white. 

Despite the fact that your limbs feel boneless at this point, you force yourself upward, back onto your knees, crying out at the feeling of Santi’s cock hitting you deep as you meet a particularly hard thrust. But rather than let him finish like this, you pull away, inciting a look of confusion across his face for but a moment until you push Santiago down onto his back and climb on top of him.

Santi’s eyes fall shut and his jaw goes slack as you straddle his lap, sinking back down onto his leaking, throbbing cock. You start off slow, setting an easy rhythm as you lift yourself up and down, and appreciative groans leave his lips as he watches you ride his shaft with a hooded gaze. But as you begin to pick up your pace, his hips cant upward as he ruts up into you, fingers tightly gripping your thighs. 

And you know how badly he wants to come. You can feel it in the way his muscles begin to tighten underneath of you, the way his blunt fingernails are digging into your skin. But first—

You reach down, grasping Santiago’s shoulders to haul him halfway up, and one of his arms shoots out behind him for balance. Smiling, you run a hand through his graying curls, and he tries to chase your lips for a kiss, but you tighten your grip, tugging roughly on his hair and tilting his head backward slightly.

And oh, he knows what you’re about to do. You can see it in the way his lust-blown pupils widen even further, the way he bites down on his lower lip. 

He knows exactly what you’re going to do, but there’s a sparkle of defiance in his eyes as he makes no move to comply, awaiting your reaction. In turn, you pull his hair even harder, and he groans, cock twitching inside of you as he finally parts his lips. 

And the moment you spit into Santiago’s mouth, both of his hands find your hips once again, wrapping around you with an iron grip and lifting you just enough to jackhammer his cock into your cunt at a dizzying, unforgiving pace. As he swallows, he captures your mouth in a feverish, sloppy kiss, both of you moaning into it when his hips begin to stutter. 

Santiago rises, pushing you onto your back once more and quickly pulling his shaft out of you. Wrapping a hand around his cock, he strokes it rapidly until hot, thick ropes of cum spurt across your breasts. 

He collapses beside you on top of the sleeping bag, only to roll sideways a moment later, rooting around for the pack of tissues he'd seen lying nearby.

As you grab them out of his hands, he opens his mouth to speak, but you immediately interrupt, “Don’t say it.”

Looking far too boyishly handsome for a man that just spat in your mouth and came all over your tits, he grins, “Merry Christmas.”

—

Comments, reblogs, and/or asks are always appreciated!

» OSCAR ISAAC MASTERLIST » SANTIAGO GARCIA MASTERLIST

[sassykattery]

Midnight Storm

Because I'm feelin' the angst, it's time to see how Altaira feels about Nightbringer...

Pairing: Diavolo x oc! Altaira

CW: Altaira is afab, uses she/her pronouns. oc shows distress

Themes: Angst.

Characters: Solomon, oc! Altaira, Diavolo

Minors and ageless blogs DNI

Enjoy.

"Okay then, I owe you an explanation, but where to start?" Solomon pondered aloud, hand on his chin.

"You can start with why my own husband doesn't remember me!" Altaira shrieked at the sorcerer.

"Altaira, I know you're upset, but try to listen–"

"We are well past upset, Solomon the Obvious! I am reaching a new level of wrath, I think even this Satan would be afraid of!"

"Please just allow me to explain what I know," he snapped, grabbing her wrists.

She glared at him through teary and angered eyes as she listened, and his explanation did nothing to stave off the sadness and sheer fury she felt deep inside.

"Do you understand how upset he probably is right now? He probably has every single one of the Devilsguard and his secret service in the human world looking for me. He wouldn't accept that I just disappeared," she bit back at him.

"I know, I do, but there's nothing I can do right now. You're just going to stick it out until we get things figured out," he tried to console her. She broke away from his grasp, saddening him further as he watched her distance from him even more than usual.

"I trusted you, you know," she replied solemnly. "And so did he. I hope you'll find a way to fix this, or you won't live long enough when this reaches its conclusion to be known as Solomon the Sorcerer."

She walked away to her bedroom after spilling her venom, slamming the door shut and locking the door. Solomon listened as her cries lasted long through the night, tearing at his own heart to hear her so distressed, something he realized he'd never heard her do before in the present.

In the early hours of the morning, Altaira left Cocytus Hall and walked the streets of the Devildom. She observed how different it was from her home in her time. The shops she frequented, the houses she saw built, and the streets themselves were all different or nonexistent.

The non-existence reminded her of her previous argument with Solomon. Her heart ached with a pain so fierce, she felt suffocated by it. Did he miss her? Did they? Were they distraught? Did they think she forgot about them? About him?

Her hand stuck out from her side as she danced her fingertips along the walls of the buildings she passed. Her heels clicked along the cobblestone of the street, creating an echo in the empty districts as most of the denizens were asleep at that point.

Unknowingly, she continued her trek across the city in a direction her body knew all too well by muscle memory. It was a path she took far too many times, so much that she could make it in her sleep without fail. And it wasn't until she was standing before the pond at Starfall that she even realized what she'd done.

Looking over her shoulder, she saw the towering walls of the Demon Lord's castle, a familiar presence to her, but it hurt her to know it wasn't the same place that welcomed her with open arms like before. She looked forward again and sank down to her knees, looking into the clear waters that barely rippled with the calm night air glazing across it. Her tears dropped in as she leaned over to peer into its depths, disturbing the placid glass.

Just then, more droplets fell across the waters of the pond from seemingly out of nowhere. There were no clouds above or forecast of showers. These droplets mimicked her tears and made the pond dance with hundreds of ripples across it. More stars fell as well, streaks of pink and blue barreling across the skies. Broad strokes of stardust suddenly painted the sky above in an array of colors, from violet, blue, green, yellow, orange, to red.

And from a distance, back in the shadows in the corners of the outer walls of the castle, a pair of golden yellow eyes watched the scene unfold. He observed how Starfall bled with her presence and how his pond reacted in tandem with her. To see his world live and breathe as she did struck him as odd. How could it be that something he designed would treat a stranger as if she were an honored and welcomed longtime friend?

She reached her hand into the waters, her fingers waving in its coolness, and suddenly, the drops froze in mid-air just above the surface. With her other hand, she held a singular finger up and swirled it around, commanding the droplets to mimic her movement– and they did. They danced, bobbed up and down, in a circle around the pond while flashing the colors from the stardust above.

Saddened and tired, she dropped her hand and fell back to her haunches, and as she did, the droplets all fell. The waters rippled as it calmed back down.

"That was quite the show," Diavolo stated quietly from behind.

She barely turned her head and looked up again at the stars.

"I'll leave," she mumbled in a monotone.

"I don't mind the company," he replied. "Where did you learn to control the elements? The astrals?" He then inquired.

A singular tear ran over her cheek.

"Someone who's not here right now," she answered with a wavering voice.

"Someone important to you?"

"Very."

The pair was quiet again.

"It's odd," Diavolo mused, walking around behind her. She stared straight ahead as he spoke.

"What is?"

"Well, I suppose a few things are. For instance, someone having command over an astral movement that they didn't create is odd. It's odd that someone can also command the elements of a magical area they didn't create," he replied while still walking. He stopped directly behind her. "It's odd that of all the creatures here in the Devildom, you, Altaira, don't even flinch or blink in my presence. You don't even look over your shoulder at a potentially dangerous demon that you don't even know."

"I suppose I've never been accused of being normal," she answered firmly.

"And then, even now, when faced with me, someone with the power I hold, you have no fear of me. You speak to me as if I'm your equal," he added quietly.

"It's because you want an equal. You desire someone to be at your side that you can count and rely on. An equal," she replied with a hollow voice. Coming to her feet, she finally turned and looked up at him.

"Who are you? Really?" He asked with a raised brow.

"To you? No one," she answered with her eyes glistening.

"But clearly, you know something about me. How would you know not to run from me? How do you know of my nature?" She said nothing as he stared down at her. His gaze flickered above. "Even Starfall doesn't obey my command so easily. So, pray tell, why does it obey yours?"

"I suppose you'll just have to keep me around and find out," she replied quietly.

He grabbed her wrist before she could turn to leave. Nary a rough touch, more of a soft gesture.

"Why do you speak to me as if you know me?" He asked once more.

She was silent again.

"I know of you. There's a difference," she finally answered.

He cocked an eyebrow slightly tilted his head.

"But you know me, on some level, too," he insisted.

She looked down to where his hand held her wrist, so delicately, like he knew to be gentle with her.

"I think the issue here is that you do not know me," she finally answered. "And that bothers you."

His gaze softened, and he finally relaxed, releasing her hand.

"I suppose with time, we can resolve that together," he said with a hint of a smile to his lips, his voice even gentler then. But his lips fell to a frown when he saw her flinch suddenly, as if she were in pain at what he said.

"I–I should-should go," she backed away and started to walk quickly toward the palace gates.

"Altaira! Wa-" Diavolo cut himself off when she was already slipping past the gate and dashing off into the night.

The Demon Lord turned back to his creation and was astounded by the picture the astrals of Starfall made:

The falling stars fell in a pattern, like a scene from a movie that played again and again. They arranged themselves to show the Demon Lord, and that very same woman, dancing gracefully across the stars, crimson and gold stardust splayed over his suit while shining black ink splattered across her gown as he swept her away, together dyed in his colors. The display only showed for another minute before everything began to fade, and Starfall returned to its natural sequence of falling stars.

He looked back to the gate, where he last saw her, and thought about what that image meant. What it meant to him and the stability of his kingdom.

"Odd, but not unlovely," the prince murmured as he walked back into the castle to retire for the night.

Thanks for reading!

Post made by sassykattery. Do not repost. Reblogs and comments appreciated.

Tags: @bite-sized-devil @delphi-dreamin

[dzthenerd490]

SCP: Horror Movie Files

Description: Throughout the multiverse, the SCP foundation prides itself in capturing and containing the anomalous and unknown. Of course, if you want to see the SCP's contained in our universe just look it up on their website but what about in the Cinematic or any other Universe? They are contained right here in this little collection called the Horror Movie Files! 

Obviously, most of these will be based on horror movies, shows, cartoons, video games and MAYBE, but don't count on it, Anime. I will include anything and everything that I believe deserves to be an anomaly. It will sort of be like several fanfictions in one big fanfiction universe if that makes any sense... which it probably doesn’t. Also, I will be including my own fanmade SCP's, MTF's and GoI's because why not.

Disclaimer: I do not own anything from the SCP mythos. This will be a fanfiction based on the American side of the SCP foundation, International SCP’s might be mentioned but that’s it. Also please don’t assume I know everything about every cannon because let’s be honest no one does. So, if I say something that contradicts the current SCP universe then just assume I don’t know or don’t care about it. This is a fanfiction after all so things are bound to get messy. So please bear with me as I try to make this mess work.

.

SCP: HMF - Departments and Divisions Hub

SCP: HMF - Mobile Task Force Hub

SCP: HMF - Groups of Interest Hub

SCP: HMF - Tales Hub

SCP: HMF - Documents of Interest

SCP: HMF - YouTube Playlist

.

SCP’s: 

SCP-AAA - Slither

SCP-AAB - The Ritual

SCP-AAC - Killer Klowns from Outer Space

SCP-AAD - The Thing

SCP-AAE - The Ruins

SCP-AAF - IT

SCP-AAG - It Follows

SCP-AAH - Pet Sematary

SCP-AAI - Hellraiser

SCP-AAJ - The Stuff

SCP-AAK - The Bay

SCP-AAL - Body Melt

SCP-AAM - X-files S1 E3 Squeeze

SCP-AAN - Mimic

SCP-AAO - Silent Hill

SCP-AAP - Christine

SCP-AAQ - X-files S1 E8 Ice

SCP-AAR - The Blob

SCP-AAS - Firestarter

SCP-AAT - Critters

SCP-AAU - X-Files S1 E12 Fire

SCP-AAV - Child's Play

SCP-AAW - A Nightmare on Elm Street

SCP-AAX - Back to the Future

SCP-AAY - Resident Evil - T Virus

SCP-AAZ - Terminator

SCP-ABA - The Evil Dead

SCP-ABB - The Mist

SCP-ABC - Evolution

SCP-ABD - Assassin’s Creed: Apple of Eden

SCP-ABE - Resident Evil - G Virus

SCP-ABF - Pulse

SCP-ABG - Assassin's Creed: Ring of Eden

SCP-ABH - Resident Evil 3

SCP-ABI - Smile

SCP-ABJ - Assassin's Creed - Hnituðr

SCP-ABK - The Hallow

SCP-ABL - OC 10

SCP-ABM - Assassin's Creed - Gungnir

SCP-ABN - X-Files S1 E14 Genderbender

SCP-ABO - Cloverfield

SCP-ABP - Assassin's Creed - Spear of Leonidas

SCP-ABQ - Godzilla

SCP-ABR - Friday the 13th

SCP-ABS - Antlers

SCP-ABT - Assassin's Creed: Staves of Eden

SCP-ABU - Mothra

SCP-ABV - Assassin's Creed - Swords of Eden

SCP-ABW - OC 1

SCP-ABX - OC 2

SCP-ABY - Assassin's Creed - Ankh

SCP-ABZ - Splinter

SCP-ACA - Jeepers Creepers

SCP-ACB - Blood Sickness of The White Sands Village

SCP-ACC - OC 4

SCP-ACD - Deadman Wonderland

SCP-ACE - Goosebumps - Monster Blood

SCP-ACF - Apollo 18

SCP-ACG - Junji Ito - Tomie

SCP-ACH - Tron

SCP-ACI - Fullmetal Alchemist - Alchemy

SCP-ACJ - Ghidorah

SCP-ACK - Junji Ito - Headless Statues

SCP-ACL - Halloween

SCP-ACM - Terrifier

SCP-ACN - King Kong

SCP-ACO - The Polar Express

SCP-ACP - Carrie

SCP-ACQ - Splice

SCP-ACR - Ghosts of Mars

SCP-ACS - Godzilla - Hollow Earth

SCP-ACT - OC 3

SCP-ACU - Leprechaun

SCP-ACV - Malignant

SCP-ACW - Russian Sleep Experiment

SCP-ACX - Mechagodzilla

SCP-ACY - OC 7

SCP-ACZ - OC 15

SCP-ADA - Goosebumps - Say Cheese and Die!

SCP-ADB - X-Files S1 E18 Miracle Man

SCP-ADC - Pacific Rim

SCP-ADD - Jurassic Park

SCP-ADE - Man in the Suit

SCP-ADF - Five Night's at Freddy's

SCP-ADG - Nes Godzilla

SCP-ADH - Hakaijuu

SCP-ADI - Final Destination

SCP-ADJ - Choo Choo Charles

SCP-ADK - Bioshock

SCP-ADL - The Faculty

SCP-ADM - Ao Oni

SCP-ADN - Resident Evil 4

SCP-ADO - The Shining

SCP-ADP - M3GAN

SCP-ADQ - The Shape of Water

SCP-ADR - Prototype

SCP-ADS - OC 5

SCP-ADT - OC 9

SCP-ADU - Resident Evil 5

SCP-ADV - Doctor Sleep

SCP-ADW - OC 17

SCP-ADX - Benny Loves You

SCP-ADY - Elfen Lied

SCP-ADZ - Life

SCP-AEA - Gremlins

SCP-AEB - Candle Cove

SCP-AEC - Thankskilling

SCP-AED - Angel Hare

SCP-AEE - Cardboard

SCP-AEF - Re Animator

SCP-AEG - Intro to the Alien Invasion

SCP-AEH - Gamera

SCP-AEI - Polybius

SCP-AEJ - The Wyoming Incident

SCP-AEK - Pikmin

SCP-AEL - Jack Frost

SCP-AEM - OC 19

SCP-AEN - A Quiet Place

SCP-AEO - Pikmin - Goolix

SCP-AEP - Tremors

SCP-AEQ - The Birds

SCP-AER - Attack of the Killer Tomatoes!

SCP-AES - Pikmin - Smoky Progg

SCP-AET - Dave Made a Maze

SCP-AEU - Candyman

SCP-AEV - Picture Inspiration 1

SCP-AEW - Pikmin - Bulborbs

SCP-AEX - Brightburn

SCP-AEY - Junji Ito - Uzumaki

SCP-AEZ - OC 13

SCP-AFA - The Invasion of Godzilla

SCP-AFB - Stung

SCP: AFC - The Magic School Bus

SCP-AFD - Transformers - Energon

SCP-AFE - The Twilight Zone S1 E6

SCP-AFF - Truth or Dare

SCP-AFG - Resident Evil 6

SCP-AFH - OC 6

SCP-AFI - Yume Nikki

SCP-AFJ - Tommy Taffy

SCP-AFK - The Babadook

SCP-AFL - Five Nights at Freddy's - Springtrap

SCP-AFM - OC 20

SCP-AFN - Rubber

SCP-AFO - OC 12

SCP-AFP - About Time

SCP-AFQ - Bendy and the Ink Machine

SCP-AFR - The Rake

SCP-AFS - Unbreakable

SCP-AFT - OC 14

SCP-AFU - Pontypool

SCP-AFV - Goosebumps - Let's Get Invisible

SCP-AFW - Garten of Banban

SCP-AFX - Coraline

SCP-AFY - Attack the Block

SCP-AFZ - Resident Evil 7

SCP-AGA - OC 21

SCP-AGB - Dead Space

SCP-AGC - Happy Death Day

SCP-AGD - Courage the Cowardly Dog S1 E2A

SCP-AGE - Resident Evil 8

SCP-AGF - Casper the Friendly Ghost

SCP-AGG - OC 22

SCP-AGH - Split

SCP-AGI - X-Files S1 E20 Darkness Falls

SCP-AGJ - OC 23

SCP-AGK - Nanny McPhee

SCP-AGL - The Crazies

SCP-AGM - The Twilight Zone S1 E20 Elegy

SCP-AGN - Destroy All Humans

SCP-AGO - OC 24

SCP-AGP - Hell House LLC

SCP-AGQ - Spooky’s Jump Scare Mansion

SCP-AGR - My Neighbor Totoro

SCP-AGS - Assassin’s Creed - Crescent Amulet

SCP-AGT - Beyond: Two Souls

SCP-AGU - Kirby

SCP-AGV - NOPE

SCP-AGW - 4.n0m4ly - They Found Something Underground

SCP-AGY - Colossal

SCP-AGZ - Krampus

SCP-AHC - Sharktopus

SCP-AHA - Trick r Treat

SCP-AHD - REC

SCP-AHE - Annabelle

SCP-AHF - As Above So Below

SCP-AHG - Adventure Time - The Lich

SCP-AHH - Alan Wake

SCP-AHM - Assassin’s Creed - Crystals

SCP-AHO - Coco

SCP-AHP - Children of the Corn

SCP-AHS - Sharknado

SCP-AHT - The Smile Tapes

SCP-AHU - Mary Poppins

SCP-AHV - OC 26

SCP-AIA - Harmony and Horror - Bonzo

SCP-AIC - My Life as a Teenage Robot

SCP-AID - Meg

SCP-AIF - Harmony and Horror - Sophia

SCP-AIG - OC 27

SCP-AII - Paul

SCP-AIJ - 4.n0m4ly - The Cult of M’rohoj

SCP-AIL - Harmony and Horror - Henry

SCP-AIM - OC 28

SCP-AIN - Transformers - the Covenant and the Quill

SCP-AIP - .Flow

SCP-AIQ - X-Files S2 E3 Blood

SCP-AIR - Yume 2kki

SCP-AIS - Omega Mart

SCP-AIU - The Secret World of Arrietty

SCP-AIV - OC 29

SCP-AIW - The Twilight Zone S1 E34 The After Hours

SCP-AIX - The Adventures of Sharkboy and Lavagirl

SCP-AIZ - Inspector Gadget

SCP-AJE - Pikmin - Man-at-Legs

SCP-AJI - Turning Red

SCP-AJK - Puppet Master

SCP-AJW - Oculus

SCP-AJX - Hellboy

SCP-AJY - Arrival

SCP-AKS - Goosebumps - Stay out of the Basement.

SCP-ALF - ALF

SCP-ALK - The Ring

SCP-AMS - The Last of Us

SCP-AMZ - Gemini Home Entertainment - Wood Crawlers

SCP-ANE - Gemini Home Entertainment - Nature’s Mockery

SCP-ANJ - Gemini Home Entertainment - Neptune

SCP-ANO - Gemini Home Entertainment - The Iris

SCP-AOY - OC 8

SCP-APT - OC 25

SCP-AQC - Junji Ito - BEEHIVE

SCP-AQO - Parasyte

SCP-ARF - Resistance

SCP-ARN - Slender Man

SCP-ARR - Raving Rabbits

SCP-ASN - 9

SCP-ASR - Siren

SCP-ASS - OC 18

SCP-ASZ - Before I Wake

SCP-ATA - Junji Ito - The Long Hair in the Attic

SCP-ATI - Goosebumps - Welcome to Dead House

SCP-ATP - Annihilation

SCP-ATQ - Infamous: Ray Sphere

SCP-ATV - Infamous - The Beast

SCP-AUX - Vintage Eight - The Tangi Virus

SCP-AVC - Vintage Eight - The Oracle Project

SCP-AVH - Vintage Eight - Prophet

SCP-AVM - Vintage Eight - One of Us

SCP-AVQ - Local 58

SCP-AWS - Winter of 83

SCP-AXA - Vita Carnis

SCP-AXI - Hell Girl

SCP-AXP - OC 11

SCP-AYJ - Junji Ito - Dying Young

SCP-AZJ - Village of the Damned

SCP-AZX - Zalgo

SCP-AZY - OC 16

.

SCP: HMF - Departments and Divisions Hub

SCP: HMF - Mobile Task Force Hub

SCP: HMF - Groups of Interest Hub

SCP: HMF - Tales Hub

SCP: HMF - Documents of Interest

SCP: HMF - YouTube Playlist

[yourlocaltoad]

Family Photo

OuterStave is my otp. I regret nothing XD I love how these characters look. I love the story of stavetale and hope to see more form it :D (its suppose to look like they are taking a picture lol) (i spent almost my whole day on this XD)

From Left to Right:

Stave - @stavetale  

Star - @galaxianlover

Outer Sans - @outertale

Stella - @manuru-15

Tone - @lunalight123

[ink-ami]

The stars dudes.

I think everyone know Outertale!Sans and Stavetale!Sans’s blog’s here.

[pleasantanathema]

Reiner Braun | Instinctual Invitations

Pairing: Reiner Braun x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ Only)

Warnings: ABO Dynamics (Alpha Reiner x Omega Reader), Breeding, Marking, Mating, Knotting, Heats, Ruts, Frenemies to Lovers

Word Count: 5k

A/N: Part of my Nine Muses Event to celebrate 9k! Follow the link to read other fanfics I’m writing to celebrate. This was definitely a labor of love. I’ve fallen back into my appreciation for ABO dynamics, and Reiner just screams “perfect mate” to me. 💜

          No one made suppressants stronger than Hange. They never divulged just what was in their special concoction, but all you knew was that it was damn near impossible for someone to discern that you were an Omega.

           You’d even fooled that naive, arrogant, hubristic Alpha partner of yours for years. There was a particular disdain you held for Reiner. You could never really name it, but all you knew was that working with the giant man made your instincts sour. He seemed so good on the outside, all prideful charm and heavy pats on the shoulders of his peers, but when the two of you worked cases alone, his charisma always had a bite to it.

           Maybe it was because he could tell there was something equally off about his “Beta” partner, maybe it was because he had some pent up rage inside him he only let seep out around you. You didn’t know, you didn’t care. You were patiently waiting for him to be re-assigned to the Behavioral Science Unit like he’d requested last month, but Erwin’s dawdling with the request had you worried he wasn’t about to separate his most successful Scout partners, even if they didn’t get along.

           “Is my bow tie straight?”

          Reiner asked you to hold his drink while he fiddled with the offending cloth.

           “Yeah.”

           “You didn’t even look.”

           The whiskey from his glass was expensive, sliding down smooth when you took a drink. Rei let out a very frustrated noise, so loud and huffy it had the guests of the award ceremony glancing toward him. The hotel ballroom was crowded, filled with elites from Military Police, Scouts, even the fucking Garrison. There were too many people here to watch you and Reiner stumble over the acceptance speech; there were too many people here to judge that Scouts were being awarded this time around.

           “Now your fucking lipstick is all over it.”

           “Oh please, it tastes like cherries, you’ll get over it.”

           Both of you were nervous, flattered but timid about being given a Meritorious Achievement Award for all your fieldwork done killing and documenting titans around the outer-wilds of the city. Fighting for survival in the trees was less stressful than trying to make a good impression on the brass as you received one of the highest honors.

           You took another gulp of his drink before passing it back, trying to stave off the very worrisome nerves twisting in your gut. Sweat was forming at the nape of your neck, staining your palms. You shifted uncomfortably in your heels, feet feeling heavy.

           It made you feel some better that the usually proud Alpha next to you was just as worried about giving a speech in front of Dhalis Zachary. The Premier was known for being strict, for demanding that military appearance be of the highest standard in front of donors.

          Reiner was still fucking with his tie, angry muscles about to rip the threads of his tuxedo.

          “You look fine,” you sighed, toning back the bitterness. You moved away from the balcony railing, wrapping your fingers around the black polyester ribbon and tightening it into sitting straight under his square jaw. But for some reason, you couldn’t let go, nails gripping into the fabric.

          “Are you okay? You looked scared to shit,” Reiner plucked your hands off his tie, holding a wrist in each burning hand, “I can do all the talking, you know. You can just stand there and look pretty.”

          “Y-yeah, I’m fine.” You weren’t. You knew this feeling, it was old and familiar, a churning pain laced with need slowly brewing in your belly, making you sick.

          But your suppressants would take care of the issue, surely it was just your nerves that were making those heats you’d forsaken start to claw at you.

          You hadn’t gone through a heat cycle in three years. Hange had suggested you take time off once a year to let your body go through it’s natural process, but you’d been so damn busy that you’d neglected to do so. Besides, you never had any issues, just a few flare ups when a particularly good looking Alpha close to their rut got near you.

          This time was different, though, you could feel it. This flame wasn’t going to be extinguished once it got started—you’d have to go home after the gala and curl up, stop taking the suppressants in the morning so your heat could come to life in the next few days.

          God you dreaded that feeling, cunt always quivering and squeezing around nothing, sweating in a blanket nest that only carried your scent and maybe a lingering, nameless male scent from a one-night stand.

          “Hey,” Rei moved his hands to rest on your shoulders, shaking you, “get your shit together. We’ll be awarded in a few hours and then we can go the fuck home. Tired of being around your bitchy ass anyways.”

          His hands were too hot. They were sweaty like yours, making you feel dizzy.

          “I’m gonna be sick.”

          You could feel it. Reiner could smell it.

          “What the fuck is wrong with y—”

          He dropped the last syllable, golden eyes turning into molten amber the moment your scent hit him full force. You thought he’d take his hands off, that he’d give you some space, but those instincts to protect must have taken over because he was pulling you closer like that would help.

          “You’re a Beta, you don’t go into—”

          “Omega, Rei. I’m a fucking Omega and I don’t need you telling anyone about it.”

          You whispered your confession, eyes going glassy as you looked around the room, saw faces turning in your direction. Most of the old men here were mated, but that didn’t mean the building brew of the heat of an unmarked Omega wouldn’t catch their attention. Your neck throbbed, scent glands betraying you and pumping beneath your skin.

          You felt like clawing at Reiner’s chest, digging your fingers into the perfectly pressed designer shirt and burying your face into it to be overwhelmed by Alpha presence. You thought you could stave this off, but the nerves, this proximity to an Alpha...you needed to get the fuck out of here.

          “You’re going to have to take the award for-for both of us,” oh now you were stuttering, you were losing it, Reiner’s deeply masculine scent making you feel like a puddle. You hated these instincts, hated how it made you feel weak, hated how he smelled like the most inviting bakery and familiarity and how it made you want to fall to your knees and beg for the aching hole between your legs to be stuffed.

          “You can’t get home on your own, do you know how many Alphas would kill for—”

          You were pulling away from him, grabbing your purse so you could scrounge for those emergency suppressants to hopefully curtail this heat.

          The pills were absent, your resolve fading as you felt like crumpling into the floor and clutching your stomach. You knew people were starting to notice, noses in the air to find out where the overly sweet smell of an Omega was coming from.

          “I don’t need your help.”

          “Who else knows?” You didn’t like how the rumble of his voice made your skin tingle, made your panties feel too tight, wet.

          “Hange, Levi, the higher ups. They know, they saw it on my app-application. Said it would be…” you were starting to lose your train of coherent thoughts.

          “...best if no one knew?”

          Omegas were scarce. Omegas were weak. But you’d proven yourself in your training, you were too valuable for Commander Erwin to deny your approval into the Scouts.

          “Just—just tell people I got sick. That the stupid little shrimp hors d'oeuvres... f-fuck me,” you meant to say something else, something like they fucked with me, but all you could think about was how those strong hands felt on your shoulders and how they would feel so good pawing at your hips as he plowed into you to relieve your stress.

          Making a beeline out of the ornate, crowded ballroom, you had to excuse yourself as you bumped into a few backs and sides, stumbling over your feet as the clawing need in your stomach made you lose focus. You just had to get home. Grab a cab. Hope it’s not an Alpha driving, just get home to your nesting pillows and bury your fingers into your—

          Reiner was calling your name. If he was your Alpha you’d be stopping in your tracks to listen to his commands, but he wasn’t. He was your terrible, annoying...strong, capable, definitely had a fat cock…

          You didn’t know what you were thinking about when he finally caught up to you, pushing you outside the front doors. You wished it was winter, but it was a hot summer night, which just made the heat in your body worse, made your scent heavier, floating on the humidity. And there were people around, lobby boys taking in bags and tired families dragging their feet inside. Still the fresh air felt good, or at least it did, until Reiner invaded it with his scent again.

          “I’ll get you home,” he placed his hand on your lower back, palm touching bare, tender skin from the low cut of your dress, and you came undone. You pressed yourself into his thick chest, wrapping your arms around him and fisting them into the back of his shirt. You could hear him grunt at the contact, the two of you never the type of partners to go beyond a pat on the back or a punch to the arm.

          “N-not gonna make it home…”

          “Fucking shit I always knew there was something different about you.”

          He was dragging you back into the hotel, firm hand around your wrist.

          “I can’t help how I was born.”

          “Yeah but you could have fucking told me.”

          You quit your bickering as Reiner paid for a hotel room, you pressed to his side and trying to mask the scent of ripe, ready to fuck Omega underneath simmering Alpha. You snatched the key card on the counter from a very concerned concierge, listening but not really as she explained there were special rates for those in heat.

          “I didn’t want you to know.”

          People were staring now, the smell of Omega becoming so heavy it even bothered you. Rei tucked his arm around your waist, leading you toward the elevators. There was a sour, thirsty taste in your mouth as you listened to your heels clink upon the marbled floor. The scent of arousal was on him, but it wasn’t his fault, just his biology reacting to yours.

          You straightened your shoulders as you saddled up next to him in the elevator, watching the doors slowly close.

          “Reiner—”

          “Shut up.”

          He was on you in an instant, heavy body pressing you into the mirrored wall.

          “I should have known,” his voice was low, like he was divulging a secret, “a little Omega under my nose all long.”

          You gasped as one of his hands skimmed up your thigh, thumb swirling circles upon your skin.

          “D-don’t do this here, I can’t—” you couldn’t take it, you were putty in his hands, already looping a leg around his thigh and fussing with the buttons on his shirt. You needed to feel his skin, needed to drown in the scent of an Alpha.

          You were half way through peeling his shirt off his pectorals, that goddamn bowtie still in place, when your throat began to hurt. Reiner actually laughed at you when you paused your hasty undressing, having to cradle the left side of your neck as your scent glands throbbed, begging for teeth to be sunk into the sensitive skin to be marked, claimed.

          “Don’t you dare think about m-marking me,” god you wouldn’t be able to stop stuttering until you were stuffed with something, until you were able to chase away the aches before they returned again in a few hours.

          “But isn’t that what little Omegas want?” He was toying with you, grin so cocky you felt like sinking your thumbs into his smile and hurting him. His fingers were under your dress, dangerously close to your aching sex. His hand was so hot against your skin, so calloused and strong. You felt like Icarus, like you were flying too close to the sun. The pad of his index finger curled against your panties and you could have sworn you were already burning.

          You lifted your lips to catch his, only to have him turn his cheek as the elevator chimed, signaling your arrival to your floor.

          You followed in his steps, tracing your dress hem from where his giant palm had touched it, your fingers moving it even higher to try to alleviate the warmth stemming from between your legs. The keycard was heavy in your hand, like it was about to open a door to something wicked.

          “I-I can take care of this myself,” your placed your back against the door to your room, “and I’ll pay you back for the fees, just let me—”

          “Just let you what? Go fuck yourself in misery for the next five days?”

          God he looked so tempting, so big. He towered over you, scents of sex and earth and spice, like black cardamum and the bitter burn of peppers. You wanted to sink your fingers into his blonde hair and pull, pull him down to you, into you.

          But you reminded yourself you’d be patiently waiting for him to leave your life. Mating with him could have him sticking around, could have the two of you fucking up and getting attached.

          “Y-you have to accept the award,” you were literally slipping into the floor, gut twisting so badly that it felt like you were being ripped apart, your heat bursting into full bloom after his teasing touches. Reiner caught your upper arms to keep you up, making you whimper, and you knew the last thing you wanted was to be alone, even if it meant ruining yourself on Reiner’s cock.

          “Your scent has made me harder than I’ve ever been in my fucking life. I paid for the room because I’m staying in it, sweetheart.”

          He took the card from your weak fingers and shoved it into the reader, a big, heavy palm pressing against your stomach and pushing you into the open doorway. He kept his fingers on you, twisting his knuckles into the fabric of your dress.

          “Rei, don’t—”

          “I’m so fucking tired of playing games with you.”

          The threads snapped with a twist of his wrist, the delicate front of your dress parting as the heavy hotel door slammed shut. His hands were rough, quick, tearing and pawing at your dress, your bra, and all you could do was moan and kick your heels off to be forgotten on the floor.

          He pulled his crisp black jack off his shoulders, tossing it onto a desk chair, trousers and everything underneath following.

          “I-I’m sorry I didn’t tell you.” You were already on him, pressing your naked chest to his and standing on your toes so you could bury your face into his neck. You couldn’t help but to purr, that soothing musk of Alpha encompassing all your senses. Fingers sunk into his body, your tongue hot against his skin as you laid kitten licks to his throat.

          “No wonder I can’t stand you,” Reiner’s hands were gliding down your back, admiring smooth, willing flesh, “why you make me fucking crazy.”

          “Please shut up and fuck me.”

          His tempting hands found your neck, thumb petting at the sore, pounding spot on your throat. It only made your scent stronger, made you keen and practically fall into him.

          “Kiss me first, like you mean it.”

          You didn’t have to be told twice.

          Any fight you had left dissipated when his tongue slipped into your mouth, hands still encased around your neck and keeping you pliant for him to taste. Your nails sunk into his shoulders, toes hurting from strain as you pushed your mouth up into his. God he tasted so good, like the first taste of food after starving, and your body had been starving for years. Unknotted, unmarked, your body was screaming for him, looking for an Alpha to fill you in ways that your measly attempts over the years never could.

          Violence was on the tip of his tongue, you could taste it, feel it in the way he started to squeeze the delicate column of your throat. Rut was kicking in, the overwhelming pheromones of Omega making his body respond, ready to knot, ready to devour.

          Slick was pouring down your thighs as you kissed him, body overly ready for him. Your stomach was twisting in coils, so painful that it made you gasp and pull away from his kiss, ready to fall into the floor if his hands didn’t keep you on your feet.

          “H-hurts, so, so bad,” you whined, trying to focus your breathing.

          Reiner started slowly moving you back toward the bed, thumbs now petting at the apples of your cheeks as tears started to form in your lower lashes.

          “Shh, shh, it’s okay, Alpha will take care of you.”

          Normally, the thought of Rei referring to himself as Alpha would repulse you, make you gag at how arrogant he was, but in this moment it made you so weak, made you moan as he crawled over your body on the bed. You were so little under him, dwarfed by brawn, small prey begging to be snatched and taken.

          His title was on the front of your mouth, ready to fall out, for you to call him what he was to you, but the sliver of sense you had left kept it at bay. You knew calling him Alpha could put you in a heat induced headspace you might not be able to come out of, might have you making lusty, hasty decisions that you’d regret once this god forsaken heat was over.

          “Rei-ner,” it was forced, he could tell, the syllables stuck to your tongue.

          He nuzzled into your neck, purring as he fell into the intoxication of your scent glands. Hands raked over your body, each touch jolting you like electricity, the webs of nerves under your skin coming alive as he toyed with you. Your legs spread instinctively to make room for his hips, but he kept his weight off of you, propping himself on his elbows.

          “So fucking perfect,” he mused, thumb trailing along your swollen lips, smearing the lipstick he’d complained about earlier, “should’ve told me sooner. I would’ve fucked you through every heat.”

          His words made you coo, made your fingers weave into his blonde hair and pull him down for another kiss. You couldn’t get enough of his taste, whiskey and fire and something sickenly sweet, like pure honey over powdered sugar. Reiner was still holding back, you could practically feel growls stuck in his chest when your hands eagerly wandered over his plush pectorals.

          So big. He’d be such a good protector. Such a good mate.

          “Need you, need you, Rei, p-please,” you shifted your hips as you spoke, ready to flip onto your stomach so he could take you from behind. It’s how you got through all the heats you ever had before; face down in pillows, letting some Alpha fuck you senseless like nature intended. But his hands stilled you, pinned you down below him.

          “Wanna watch your face as I take what’s mine.”

          The tips of your ears felt scorched from his words and the blood in your body flushed under your skin.

          His. You wanted to be his, fuck, you wanted your Alpha, needed him, need him to knot you and—

          “Take me, f-fuck, I hurt so bad,” you were crying again, the pain in your womb like a knife sawing through flesh, twisting and turning.

          “Gonna take such good care of you.”

          And you knew he would. That’s the way Reiner was. A protector. A provider. Arrogant to mask the sweetness, prideful to hide the humility.

          Big hands cupped your cheeks as his cockhead brushed through your folds, sending your neck flying back as you screamed just from the relief of feeling him spread your overheated slick.

          “Gonna fill you to the brim with my cum.”

          That broke you. Your last little grip on your sanity was remembering that Hange’s suppressants didn’t mix well with birth control. You hadn’t been on the pill for years, and with how strong this heat was, how repressed your body had felt, you were probably more fertile than you’d ever been.

          “Fuck,” your hands found his face, and when he looked at you, you sailed away in the gold currents of his gaze, “breed me.”

          His massive cock started to sink into your tight hole, the copious amounts of slick gushing from inside of you making his penetration easier. But even still, he was so engorged with blood and hormones ready to knot that his fat cock struggled to breach that first tight ring of muscle. You hissed, not from pain, but from relief, so ready to be full that no amount of stretching would detract from your pleasure.

          Heavy hands were on your hips, pulling you down to take all of him in. He was finally growling, your walls constricting around him and making him go absolutely mad.

          “Gonna breed you, Omega, give you my babies, f-fuck yes, have you dripping with cum.”

          The blinding pleasure was almost devastating, making you feel numb, making you feel like this was all you ever needed in the whole goddamn world—all you needed was Reiner’s cock to bring you rapture, to have you ascending to the holy planes that zealots coveted.

          “Move,” it was a quick plea, your legs curling around his waist in encouragement, “please, please fuck me, breed me.”

          He started a slow pace, but was enough to have you spiraling, eyes fluttering shut as you got lost in him. One of his hands swatted at your cheek, just enough to sting.

          “Eyes open. Watch me, be with me.”

          You tried your best to obey, but the drumming of his cock in your cunt had you seeing dark spots even as your eyes opened again. Reiner kept his hand on your face, locking it around your jaw so you watched him as he fucked you, his beautiful, defined cheekbones tinted pink as he became overwhelmed with his rut.

          How many times had you looked at him before? How many days had you spent working alongside him, doing your best to avoid looking at him? He got under your skin, made you feel weak. Maybe this was why, maybe you were repressing just how much you wanted him. Maybe he was meant to be your—

          “Alpha,” you breathed it out, let it fan over his ears, let it sink into his psyche.

          The word felt like a relief, like a sin. That attachment you feared was already caging you in.

          His pace kicked up to something brutal as you acknowledged not just his biology, but his title to you.

          You screamed so loudly that it hurt, had your throat burning as your moans bled into whines and mewls as he took from your willing cunt.

          A cacophony of sex filled the hotel room, the sound of primal grunts, shrill little screams, of flesh against flesh, balls slapping against your ass, his cock ramming into your squelching, drooling pussy.

          “That’s right, fuck, you’re mine, Omega. Mine.” He repeated the last word a few more times as he bent your legs farther back, straddling your thighs with his muscular legs as he folded you into a mating press. His cock began to stroke that sweet, spongy spot inside of you at the new angle, drilling into you at just the right curve to have you cumming before your body could even enjoy the build up.

          You shattered, cunt clenching and as you were so pleased to orgasm around a thick Alpha cock. You were babbling nonsense, even thanking him for letting you cum. Just a string of pleas and AlphaAlphaAlpha pouring off your tongue and melting into his sweaty skin.

          Your orgasm had your scent fresh in the room, had your neck fucking pounding with the need to be bitten, to be claimed.

          Reiner could smell it, could smell your insatiable need, instincts picking up on words you just couldn’t say.

          “Let me have you,” he demanded it between kisses to your shoulder, lips trailing up and stopping at the saccharine reek of your scent glands just below your jaw.

          He wouldn’t claim you without permission, he wasn’t that kind of man, wasn’t that kind of Alpha.

          You fell into a symphony of moans, neck tilting back in instinctual insinuation, but mouth still unwilling to make that plea. But then his scent overwhelmed you again, like spicy hot peppers and the sweetest sugar flooding over your body. You knew that scent by heart, had smelled it in smaller increments every day for years, had tried to ignore it, but now you couldn’t.

          His cock was swelling inside of you, his ruthless pace and your lingering orgasm edging him closer to release. The hand on your hip had bruised your skin, perfect indent of his palm, his long fingers, etched into your skin. The other was pulling at your neck, pushing your face to the side as he skimmed the bridge of nose along your skin, waiting, wanting.

          “Omega,” he purred, calling you, begging you, “please, yours, mine.”

          He was losing his thoughts too, drowning in instincts and euphoria.

          Your fingers laced in his hair, pulling his mouth closer to what he wanted.

          “Yours, Alpha, f-fuck,” your acceptance was loud and clear, even through the fog and sounds of sex. One bite was all it took, teeth barely sinking into your skin. You cried from how good it felt, that ache finally silenced as his tongue lapped over that patch on your neck that could now only belong to him.

          A bond was tightening, something scientists still couldn’t fully explain—being marked, claimed, it tethered you to someone beyond all comprehension. It was like making a deal with a devil, selling your soul, and for you, it was an admittance to attraction and acceptance of intimacy that you felt with Reiner.

          The act of marking had his cock swelling inside you, knotting you and spilling his seed into your depths to stay. That overbearing fullness had you tumbling over the orgasmic mountain again, had you clinging and screaming, colors you’d never fucking seen before bursting in the corners of your eyes and traveling over your body like fireworks. You shivered in his arms, quaked, fell apart, and he held you. Purring, comforting, like he’d finally brought you home.

          Time didn’t seem to exist, lines between pleasure and pain so blurred that you couldn’t even feel the burn in your legs from being spread open for so long. You stayed in that mating press for what felt like hours. Reiner kept kissing at your neck, letting his scent blend in with yours.

          You’d never smell the same again. You’d always be tainted with him, carry bits of his scent with you forever. The thought didn’t even bother you, just brought you comfort, made you purr as your fingers lazily threaded through his hair.

          Finally, his cock became soft enough for him to pull out of you, lines of cum dripping from your abused pussy as he fell on his back next to you.

          The love hormones kicked in, had you curling around him even as you stretched out weary muscles. You were ready to sleep, ready to rest until the next wave of your heat came in a few hours and had you pleading for him again.

          But a pesky thought plagued your mind, a jealous one, one you’d never had about another Alpha before.

          How many other Omegas had wanted what was yours? How many of them had Reiner denied a claim to before you?

          “Why me?” you murmured into his heaving chest, fingertips drawing aimless circles in his downy chest hair.

          “Could ask you the same thing.”

          You sat up to look at him, to let him cup your cheek as his eyes flickered over your face.

          “How many Alphas have wanted you?”

          There was solace in knowing he had the same questions.

          “Haven’t had a heat since I met you.”

          Concern flashed across his face, that intensity you were used to seeing in his brow coming to life.

          “You won’t do that again.”

          His command made you feel warm, had your belly already pulling and churning and wanting again.

          “I won’t. Because even though you’re a shitty partner, you’re my mate.”

          That realization swept over him hard and fast, a range of emotions painting his features before he settled on a smile.

          His thumb petted your skin, bringing you in for a kiss.

          “You’re the only award I needed tonight.”

[vinyldoves]

ONE STEP AHEAD

Kaz Brekker x JesperFahey!Sister with some Platonic! Jesper and Inej action.

Description: Kaz Brekker admits his feelings for the twin sister of Jesper Fahey when a mission begins to go wrong.

WARNINGS: Cursing, slight self sacrificing energy?

Note - This is a request from anon, I hope I did a good job! Please feel free to message requests, I can also do Outer banks, Marvel, Red queen and others! :)

word count is 1.2K

--------------------

It took a long time for Kaz to admit that he loved Y/N Fahey, a very long time indeed. And in the end, well he resorted to yelling it in her face.

How chivalrous.

It was a few months after the whole Alina scenario, and it marked a good year since Y/N and her twin had abandoned the likes of high academia society to slum it with gang bosses and the criminal side of things. Jesper lived highly over gamble tables, Y/N watching his back and laughing as she was chased through dark streets with whatever Brekker’s prize was that night. 

Last time, it was a very expensive looking DeKappel. Y/N and Kaz worked together more than the others, their brains just complimenting each other. They worked well, they flowed, even when the girl made awfully cheesy jokes and infuriating sarcastic quips. Kaz Brekker couldn’t deny the girl was born with a criminal calling.

And somewhere along the way of late night scheming under candlelight and sharp coffee’s into the am, Kaz Brekker, Bastard of the barrel, proclaimed demon, Dirtyhands, fell in love with the annoyingly charismatic character of Y/N Fahey. 

Not that he ever thought he would admit it, until that night.

The mission had been simple: Break into the Stadwatch office in the east stave and steal the documents Kaz’s employer had requested in exchange for a shit load of cash. Apparently, a certain Mercher had taken to selling on the black market. The Stadwatch had sniffed around, and now the desperate rich man needed some thugs' help to avoid Hellgate by burning all the evidence.

All in a day's work, however, they were now trapped in the office building, with a certain number of guards surrounding them outside. 

Jesper cursed, “What now then, boss? If we go out there then they see our faces and we’re done for. This face can’t survive Hellgate.” 

Y/N tried to cough down an entirely all too inappropriate laugh as her brother waved his hand over to inej, continuing. “I mean, Inej has the cloak. She’ll be fine. At least she can continue on with our legacy when the rest of us get locked up. Never to be seen again.”

He was so melodramatic, but even Y/N had to admit that she was scared, the plan was not supposed to go like this. Even plan O didn’t cover this situation. And Kaz hadn’t gone through any further letters of the alphabet. 

Speaking off, the boss scowled at her twin. “We aren't getting locked up Jesper. Just let me think.”

Inej sared a look with Y/N, one that meant nothing good, as she peaked out of one of the high windows, she was standing on a pile of crates, precariously holding her balance to get a view of the outside, “They’re getting something to break the door down, Kaz. We haven’t got the time.”

Y/N looked to her brother, the way he was pacing the small office allowing for his trench coat to blow behind him slightly, the way he was fiddling with his bowler hat. He looked up and shared a look of stomach dropping fear with his sister. “They separate siblings in Hellgate.”

Without taking her steady eyes off of him, she gestured an arm out to inej. “Give me your coat Ghafa.”

She could hear Inej let out a confused mumble before she felt the fabric in her hands, slipping it over her shoulders while still not letting her eyes slip from her brother. “There are two entrances Jes, They’re covering both.”

The boy barely nodded, a mix of anticipation and confusion on his features. The room was silent, everyone was listening, she could feel 2 extra pairs of eyes at her back. “They have the whole place surrounded, so they’re covering both.”

A nod.

“But they don’t know how many people are in here. For all they know it could just be one.”

Kaz went to interrupt, his voice tight and gruff. “Y/N-”

She ignored him, still looking at Jes. “I go out one door with this hood covering my face, they’ll all come running. It will leave the back entrance open for you.”

Her twin's face had never held so much horror. “No-”

She cut him off with a simple hand in the air. “Outside of the backdoor, there’s a latch leading to the roof, it’s moulded shut but we both know you can handle that. Get up there while I hold off the guards, then throw me a rope and haul me up. Inej knows rooftops, she can handle it from there.”

A dumbfounded silence coated the room, and she finally dragged her eyes away from Jesper. Only to face a furiously stubborn Kaz. 

“No.”

To be fair, it had been an excellent plan, and in her eyes, he had no reason to deny it. So she saw red. Anger was very present in her tone. “What do you mean no?!”

“I mean no. Fahey. It’s too dangerous.”

“Do you have any better ideas?”

He fell into an irritated silence. “Let me think.”

A certain amount of yelling sounded around the main door, and she sent the boy a look of anxious alarm, he just stood there, his brown hair resting at his brow bone and his dark eyes unmoving. He was staring at her. No, that was stupid. He just couldn’t get off of his damn high horse. “We don’t have time.”

He swallowed, his lips forming an attractive thin line. “You’re not doing it.”

Y/N waved her arms around the room in a show of exasperation, “why not!”

He stepped forward slightly, his cane tapping against the hardwood (possibly mahogany) floor. “Because.”

Y/N took a step closer too. “Because?”

Jesper released a very forced-sounding cough, eying them both all too knowingly before pulling Inej over to the corner, starting a discussion on how long the door could hold. 

It led the two of them to have a very tense whispered argument they both felt was about to go down. 

The bastard of the barrel met her own dark eyes, looking over her slim (but tall) frame. “Because I care about you.” 

It was so quick and forced she almost didn’t catch it. She resorted to staring at him, dumbfounded. This couldn’t be happening, not when she’d resorted so much of her energy pushing down those stupid feeling about him. He mustn't have meant it like that. “Yeah, Kaz, we’re friends.” She said it in such an overly obvious tone she hoped it would disguise the panic in her tone. 

He sucked in a breath, “I didn’t mean it like that Y/N.” He looked over to make sure Jesper and Inej were properly distracted. “l-” He hesitated, like it was a struggle to admit such a weakness.

Meanwhile, Y/N felt like her chest just might explode, so she decided to drop the overly obvious act and skip straight to the joking tone she always had. “You Love me?” A smirk played on the girl's lips, watching as the bastard of the barrel nodded, almost ashamed, prepared for whatever rejection she would give him. 

He was so distracted with his proclamation, he didn’t realise she was now, too, by the main door with the others. Jesper and Inej stepped back. “Well good thing I love you too, Brekker.” She said, before opening the door, throwing up her friend's hood, and slipping outside. Leaving him both happy and incredibly annoyed.

That damn Fahey girl.

[tiffdawg]

On Fire For You | A Din Djarin x Reader Oneshot

Gif: @bestintheparsec

Pairing: Din Djarin x Reader (fem; no y/n)

Word Count: 2.5k

Rated: T  | Warnings: tropes galore, including but not limited to there’s only one bed, huddling for warmth, first kisses, and, of course, found family. And there’s one (1) mild reference to something spicy.

A/N: This is part of my follower giveaway! The lovely @aerolanya requested Din + “oh no there’s only one bed” and I’m only too happy to deliver on one of my favorite tropes. I hope you all enjoy!

Read on AO3 | My Masterlist

… . …

On Fire For You

It was a rare treat for you and Din to see Grogu for such an extended period of time, and you were excited to take him to an ancient temple at the Jedi Luke Skywalker’s instruction even if finding the site proved difficult but being stranded on a frozen planet in the middle of a blizzard was not how you envisioned the trip. Even with the upgraded console on Din’s new ship, it was impossible to navigate through to snowstorm raging on Polus. He’d been forced to set the ship down on the empty ice plains until it passed. Even now as you sat in the cockpit cradling Grogu, you saw nothing, but white snow and ice whipped by furious winds outside the transparisteel viewport. 

You held the small child tighter as his ears drooped at a shrieking gust of wind. You didn’t like the sound of that either. When your partner re-entered the main cabin, you quickly stood from the co-captain’s chair and faced him. “Is everything okay?” 

He nodded once as he brushed a layer of snow of his pauldrons. “Ship’s in good condition. We’ll be ready to fly as soon as the storm passes.” You nodded quietly as you processed the situation. And then he added, “as long as we’re not buried under ice in the morning.”

You didn’t like the sound of that either. “What are the chances of that happening?”

He gestured to the viewport you’d been staring out of as if to say pretty damn good, but at your worried expression, he made an effort to console you. “We’ll be fine for the night. Don’t worry.” 

You heaved a small sigh of relief as you pulled your shawl tighter around your body, making sure Grogu was securely tucked underneath the thick Bantha wool as well. If Din thought things were fine, then you’d be fine. Surely there was nothing to worry about.

… . …

As your frozen breath swirled around you with each exhale, you wondered why you ever listened to a word out of that stubborn Mandalorian’s mouth.

Bundled in your heaviest parka and wrapped in a blanket, you and Grogu watched as Din pulled apart the ship’s internal wiring and tried to put it back together. Inside the metal hull, the temperature was dropping by the minute and after nearly an hour of work, he’d had no luck powering up the ship. 

“Dank farrik.” Grumbling, Din tossed aside his pilex driver. “I can’t get the heating system back online. Hell, I can’t get anything back online. Not in these temps.”

“You’re telling me it’s colder than space?” you asked, desperately trying to hide your panic

“No,” he sighed. “I don’t know what’s wrong. I– I don’t know this ship.” His frustration was evident in the way he moved as he stood and looked around helplessly. You felt for him. He always tried his best to hide his struggles from you, but you knew losing the Razor Crest was like losing his home. Despite the cold, your heart warmed toward him. Of course, that was nothing new.

“It’s okay,” you said, even as your teeth chattered. You reached toward him, intent on offering some sense of comfort, but recoiled as soon as your hand touched his cuirass. The metal was so cold it stung. “Kriff! You’re freezing, Din.” 

“The armor is insulated. It’s only cold on the outside. I’m fine,” he assured you. Still, you eyed him skeptically. He never put much thought into his own good. More often than not, that was your job. “I wore enough layers,” he said pointedly. 

“I’m practically wearing everything I own.”

“I can tell.” You heard that hint of a smile in his voice, the one that stirred the butterflies in your stomach, but you only narrowed your eyes at him. He chuckled softly and offered you the last blanket. “According to my starmap, there’s a small settlement not far from here. If we can make it there, we might find somewhere warm to pass the storm.”

“Might?” you whispered so only Grogu heard you. As he blinked up at you, you could tell that he shared your apprehension. “Don’t worry, little one,” you said as you trailed a gentle finger down the slope of his nose. “Your father would do anything to protect you.”

… . …

Either Polus was known for its hospitality or you looked as pitiful as you felt, but by some stroke of luck, the three of you found someone willing to offer you safe lodging in the village. As he assured Din that his family would be safe and warm for the night, your cheeks burned so warm you were certain the snowflakes melted as soon as they touched your skin. Then the generous old man dashed away through the snowdrifts back to the warmth of his home and family, leaving you alone in the old cabin. Relief washed over you as soon as you stepped inside and out of the biting wind. 

“Ewoks live better than this,” you mumbled as you scowled at the sad, dark dwelling. It was well insulated but little more than a room and lacked something as basic as a refresher. The only one was in the village’s main hall which would require you to dash through the snow in the middle of the night should you wake up at some point. You would not be doing that.  You knew it was better than being out in the snow or freezing to death on the ship, but it was austere even for your nomadic lifestyle. 

“I’ve seen worse,” Din offered. 

“Oh, I’m sure you have.” You rolled your eyes behind his back, but as he craned his neck to look back at you, you thought he might’ve sensed the gesture. After a year of traveling together, the two of you could practically predict each other’s next move.

While Din lit a small fire in the hearth in the center of the room, you offered a small meal to Grogu from the meager supplies you’d been able to carry with you. Unsurprisingly, he took the tin of food eagerly and sat himself near the flames to warm up. With the roaring fire, you finally felt your limbs start to thaw. Still, you kept all but your wet outer layers on as you arranged your bedroll. Which was when you noticed a small problem.

“There’s only one bunk,” you stated dumbly. You looked around the room as if a second would appear magically.

“You take it,” Din said as he reclined against the wall across from the fire. He folded his arms across his chest as if to fall asleep like he did in his captain’s chair. 

“You won’t be comfortable like that all night,” you protested weakly.

“I’ve had worse,” he echoed. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes again.

“That doesn’t mean you don’t deserve better, Din.” You crouched next to him, trying to catch his eyes behind the visor. For all you knew, he was already asleep.

“You and the kid are all that matter,” he said softly after a moment. Your chest hollowed as the air escaped your lungs at his words. You felt the same sentiment deep in your bones. “Don’t worry about me.”

“Too late for that,” you said with a rueful little smile. You worried about the man constantly, but you couldn’t help it. Not when he carried your heart with him, and you needed him to keep it safe. Needed him safe. Even if he didn’t need to know that. You brushed the few remaining snowflakes off him even as they melted quickly in the warming room. “You shouldn’t sleep in wet clothes,” you offered pointlessly. “You’ll catch your death, and we can’t have that.”

Expecting him to gently chastise you for your concern, you didn’t wait for his response. Instead, you scooped up the baby, who’s eyes were blinking shut even as he still clutched the last of his meal in his tiny, clawed hand, and crawled into bed. 

As you arranged the blankets neatly around the two of you, you noticed Din’s stare still trained on you. You held his gaze from across the room. It was hardly the first time you’d caught him watching you, but as the flickering firelight reflected off the obsidian visor, you desperately wished you could see his true expression. 

“Goodnight, Din,” you whispered after a long moment.

“Goodnight, cyare,” he rasped quietly.

With that single word of Mando’a fluttering between your ribs, you settled in for the night.

… . ...

Perhaps an hour or two later you woke with a chill. As you all slept, the room’s only source of warmth had dwindled to smoldering embers and even as you curled up into a ball and cuddled the baby closer to your chest, it was not nearly enough to stave off the cold. 

“Din?” you called, your voice wavering as you shivered. He woke with a bit of a start before his visor turned to you. “We’re freezing,” you embellished. Maybe he’d take pity on you if he thought the kid was cold too.

Din nodded once, almost dutifully. Limbs still heavy with sleep, he moved slowly as he stood and stoked the fire, but he gave up after a minute and ignited his flamethrower with a flick of his wrist. The hot blue spark was more than enough to rekindle it and you felt the warmth flood the room immediately. 

You expected him to then return to his slumped position against the wall. Instead, he stared at you with his helmet tilted curiously. You watched with bated breath as he crossed the small room while pulling off a single leather glove. You couldn’t tear your eyes away from the sight of his tanned skin. Since that fateful night on Moff Gideon’s ship, you hadn’t seen him missing so much as a single pauldron. Din hooked a finger under your chin, tilting your face toward him, and ran the pad of his thumb across your lips. The simple action sent a shock through your system and every thought vanished from your head. All accept one. But you steadfastly resisted the urge to kiss his warm skin. 

“Take off your clothes,” he said softly. Your jaw dropped at the command. And then, if possible, even further as he started to remove his Beskar.  

“W– What?” you asked without bothering to hide your surprise. 

“You need body heat,” he answered evenly. That… that made much more sense. That was a logical, rational explanation. Although it was the opposite of what you’d been thinking. You silently scolded yourself as you stripped down to your modest underclothes. You did your best to advert your eyes while Din did the same before climbing into bed behind you. 

“Relax,” he said as he settled next to you. 

You did as he asked. Or rather, tried your best as you laid facing away from him. As you did, you heard the faint whir of his helmet’s locking mechanism disengaging. A muscular arm reached past you to set it on the floor. 

Understandably, all of the movement woke the baby. In the dim firelight, Grogu’s eyes widened as he smiled up at Din. He cooed happily as he reached for his father’s face. 

“Hey, kid.” Din greeted him as if it was the first time, he’d seen him in a while. And like this, it was. He laughed, deep and rich and real, and you cherished the sound. 

A smile pulled at your lips at the sweet exchange. But as much as you longed to see him, you kept your focus on the baby and let yourself see Din through his eyes.

“Alright, back to sleep.” For once, Grogu was tired enough to actually listen to his father. He curled up against your chest again and Din carefully tucked the blankets around the both of you. His soft snoring resumed almost instantly.

He shifted for a bit as if trying to find a comfortable position. You were acutely aware of his every move and every accidental brush of his skin against yours. At one sharp inhale, he spoke again.

“Are you okay?” Not quite trusting your voice, you nodded. Because the truth was, you were more than okay. There was no place you’d rather be than in bed with him. “Still cold?”

“A little.” 

Before you could tell him that way okay, he surprised you by wrapping a strong arm around your middle and pulling you closer until you laid with your back to his bare chest. Instantly, you felt the heat radiating off his body. The man was a furnace. 

“Any better?”

As your eyes fell shut, the words slipped out with a breath before you could stop them. “Oh my stars, you feel so good, Din.” 

His hold on you tightened. Then, in an unexpected but wholly welcomed move, his hand slid up your body to cup your cheek and turn your face toward his. You felt only a ghost of a breath on your skin before warm, chapped lips pressed against your cold ones. Scintillas of heat spread throughout your body.    

“Look at me, cyare,” he whispered as you parted.

Hesitating only for a second, you opened your eyes to find perfect, plush lips smiling back at you. Letting your eyes roam, you admired his soft brown eyes glinting in the firelight and the mess of tousled locks you wanted to run your fingers through. So you did as you pulled him back to you.

“I can’t wait to have you alone,” Din murmured against your mouth. Chills erupted across your skin that had nothing to do with the cold. But his kiss only lasted a moment before he backed away with a look of uncertainty. “Do you want that?”

You smiled at his bashfulness. It was completely unfounded, but endlessly endearing and so incredibly like him. “Yes,” you promised as you sealed your lips to his once more. Both of you fell fast asleep with soft smiles 

… . …

The storm passed overnight and the next morning the villagers set you on the right path to the ancient temple. Din got the ship up and flying in no time and the three of you were off. 

When you arrived Grogu seemed to instinctively know just what he had to do. Whatever he was meant to find in there, it was meant for him alone. With a gentle hand on his shoulder, just above the mudhorn signet that signified their bond, you held Din back as the baby toddled into the icy cave alone. You sensed his hesitation, but he stayed with you. He heaved a sigh under your touch.

“Have I ever told you that you’re a good father?” you asked as you slipped your hand into his. The gesture was new, but as he twined his fingers with yours, it felt like something the two of you had done a thousand times before. 

“All the time,” he answered.

“And do you believe me yet?”

Din was quiet for a long time before he turned to you. “You’re a good mother to him, cyare.”

Somehow, as you beamed at him, you knew your smile was returned. Finally, you could imagine it perfectly.

... . ...

Thank you for reading! 

💕Tiff

... . ...

Forever Tags: @leo-moon @readsalot73 @frietiemeloen @huliabitch @jerusomeeno @benedrylcumbersnatch @b0n-chann @scapricciatello @liadamerondjarin @pedropasscals @paintballkid711 @mistermiraclee @honeyand-roses @mxsamwilson @themilkface @mylifeliterally @mskitty79 @rosiefridayrogersunday @perropascal @giselatropicana @roxypeanut @divineangelix @sarahjkl82-blog @kylerr @aerolanya @artsymaddie @linkpk88 @antisocialshipper @toastytaurus @321-lets-go’s @kesskirata @gredandfeorgesgirl @lou-la-lou @helga1031 @ktmadden86 @lesbianlena @mtjoi @pedropascaldice @swimmingsloths @lovelyasfcuk @technicallykawaiisoul @cinewhore @ali-cide @iamskyereads @magpie-to-the-morning @stardust-galaxies @melaniermblt @jenrebloggingfics @gondowan @phoenixhalliwell @melaniermblt @mystical-934 @ellefran @filmmando @ohnomando 

Din Djarin Tags: @northernpunk @lindsaybluthforlife @michaelgaryscottismydad @witchqraft @harrys-stan @rebloogggs @valeecruz16 @hufflepuff-ophelia @bees-fart-too @stardust-fray @lazybeeches @1800-fight-me @aleishabeck @leonieb @fvriosa @the-horny-virgin @fireproofmarta @radiowallet @anella951 @callitdreamland @honey-hi @starless-eyes-remain @theoceanimade @thevoiceinyourheadx @sfr99 @frogllady @qhbr2013​ @aphr0d1te5 @waitingforbluerskies​ @strawberryperegrine 

[deltas-writing-corner]

Courtship: Respect

Fandom: Twisted Wonderland (Malleus x GN!reader)

Warnings:  Mentions and depictions of smoking/tobacco usage

Next chapter | AO3 version

Slight revisions and full version posted on: 5/4/2021

The alarm clock on your phone is loud and annoying, but it’s the only sound that will wake you up without fail so you can get a head start on your more demanding days, like today.

Groggy and neck a bit strained, a sign that you’ve slept on it wrong, you carefully push yourself up and off your bed. You come across your first hurdle of the day. A few wolf cubs had settled on your chest and your sides during the night. You try carefully to move them off of you and to the side of their mother, who has settled near your feet and isn’t afraid to growl or snap her jaw should you even think of shifting or moving away from her. Unfortunately, the pups seem determined to stick by your side despite your efforts. Luckily the pack’s alpha, Gunter, is settled right behind your head and acted as your pillow for the night. He must be why your neck feels stiff as hell.

You reach back and start petting behind his ear, rubbing into the bunch of dotted scars beneath his coarse hair. You feel his body stretch and shake as he wakes up as well. A small whine comes out of him as he gives out an enormous yawn. It makes you yawn as well.

“Ready to start the day?” you whisper to him.

He huffs with a bit of attitude as if to say, “Not really, but what choice do I have?”

You redirect his attention to his pups, preventing you from sitting up without disturbing everyone else. With silent understanding, he removes himself from underneath your head and carefully steps over one of his brothers, who has graciously allowed you to use him as an armrest somewhere during the night. After another good morning stretch, Gunter begins the slow and steady process of picking the pups up from the scruffs off their necks and setting them elsewhere on your bed.

While he does this, you grab your phone and do a quick sweep of all your notifications. You have a few emails, one a weekly newsletter about current and future school events, most of it spam. You have a couple of dozen messages from Ace and Deuce detailing an argument over whether the former ate the latter’s piece of strawberry shortcake they were saving for after dinner. Apparently, they thought to ask you to be their mediator since it was clear they weren’t going anywhere arguing and pointing fingers back and forth at each other.

Unfortunately for them, they messaged you right after you conked out. You were exhausted yesterday, having to deal with an especially rambunctious and mischievous Grim. You were also scrambling to gather the reading materials needed for one of your classes before the other students can snag them. The most recent and urgent incident is figuring out what to do now that the only generator that powers up all of Ramshackle is going out or outright failing to even start up at all. You also have a decently sized garden to tend to, and the next large harvest is today. Once everything has been properly collected, washed, and either stored away in your pantry or given to Sam so he can sell and make a profit on your behalf and his own (it’s a 60/40 split and you had to fight tooth and nail for that 60), you have to replant everything once again after you’ve tilled the soil…

To say that there’s a lot on your plate is an understatement.

Free from your furry prison, you’re finally able to sit up and move your limbs freely. Something slightly damp presses against your bare shoulder, calling for your attention. Gunter, still clearly tired (expected of anyone, human or wolf, having to wake up at six o’clock in the morning), is now awaiting proper payment for his services.

“I got some dried venison in the kitchen,” you offer. The way his one good eye pops wide open and his tail begins to rapidly wag, the deer jerky will suffice.

You give the top of his head one last rub before standing up and heading straight for your bathroom to take a quick shower. Since the availability of electricity has been scarce lately, so is the availability of heating throughout the dorm. Unlike the ghosts, who can’t differentiate between hot and cold (unless it’s magically sourced), you can. Unlike the ghosts who are already dead, you will die in this late winter cold. Grim has better control of his blue flames compared to when you first met him, so he can now essentially be his own heater. He seemed a bit too comfortable keeping himself warm and letting you freeze to death, considering you’re the only reason he’s enrolled in this school.

You make do with what you have and your situation. Even when you gathered all the untorn and clean blankets and piled them on top of you last night, the cold still found its way underneath your cocoon. Gunter, the leader of a small bunch of wolves you had been taking care of during your first few weeks in Twisted Wonderland, must have seen you struggling to stave off the cold and settled himself next to you during the night followed by his brother, his sister, and finally Gunter’s mate and their pups.

Of course, with three full-grown wolves and four chubby wolf babies as your immediate heat sources, you overheated in no time and had to throw off all your covers and strip down to your underclothes in the middle of the night since your pajamas had quickly gotten soaked in sweat (and most definitely covered in their thick fur). A cold shower is just what you need to clean up after a long night drenched in sweat.

You also need to clean your sheets, but without electricity, your washer and dryer are out of order for the time being…

Dammit.

Cold showers suck, but once the ice-cold water hits your back, it woke you the hell up. You probably spent only five minutes in there before you quickly rinsed off and got out because of how unbearable the ice water was.

Once you’re properly toweled dried, you head to your closet and change. You put on clothes you don’t mind getting covered in dirt and sweat; a simple wool sweatshirt and some overalls lined with thick fleece. You also put on a pair of knitted crew socks and secure them to your leg with a pair of garters.

Right as you snap the final metal clasp on the knotted fabric, you feel a familiar bump on your shoulder. Gunter is giving you his best pleading face he can manage. Most people likely wouldn’t fall for it, what with the many scars littering across his body and face, making him look scary rather than cute. You feel a little tug in your heart. Luckily, you’re all dressed up and ready to start your day, so you quickly straighten up and usher him downstairs to give him his well-deserved treat. You grab your phone before you exit your room so you can peruse it on your way.

As you read over old texts and useless emails, a new notification comes in. It’s another message. As surprised as you are to receive a message so early in the morning (Ace and Deuce are likely still snoring and drooling into their pillows at this hour), it is the sender of the text that makes your slowed strides halt completely.

Good morning. I hope you had a pleasant and well-deserved night of rest. I’m currently getting ready to head over to the Ramshackle dorm to help you with your harvesting, as I promised. The coat you’ve made and gifted me during the holidays also fits perfectly and is by far the most comfortable piece of clothing I now own.

Thank you again for your most generous gift. I will inform you when I have arrived.

Yours truly,

Malleus Draconia

You can’t help but smack your palm on your forehead. You’re not annoyed or exasperated, it’s quite the opposite, actually. You’re happy that Malleus’s charm can somehow manifest even within a text message. In fact, this isn’t the first time he’s sent you a message formatted and written like a formal letter. If someone were to look at the small messaging history between you two, they’d see that a great majority of it is just Malleus sending you these long strings of text. They would also find your messages, or rather, your poor and embarrassing attempts at mimicking his language and style (he says he gets a laugh out of them, so maybe they’re as bad as you think). There’s also always a follow-up message, gently reminding and encouraging him to relax and not worry about offending you for speaking casually for you.

His response is always the same, and it makes your stomach feel strangely fuzzy.

You have earned my respect, now I must strive to earn yours.

It’s only been a little over a month since he dropped the bombshell that was his desire for your friendship to evolve into a proper, romantic relationship. To say it surprised you is another understatement. You were thoroughly flabbergasted once your mind finally registered his words as genuine. To hear him say “I love you” and direct such a powerful statement towards you was truly the last thing you expected since arriving in this strange world.

But through all the outer uncertainties there was one thing you were certain of, your inner uncertainties. Malleus is a dear friend of yours. Even amongst Ace or Deuce, two individuals who have been with you since the beginning and nearly every overblot incident that has come your way, Malleus holds a special place in your heart as your dearest friend.

But a friend is all he’s ever been in your mind. There was truly never an instance where you pondered or even held some amount of desire or expectation that your friendship could evolve into something more. You felt like a total prick during the end of his confession, asking him if you could sit on his words for a while and come back to him when you have a more certain and final answer to give. Watching the hope and nervousness in his eyes turn into one of pure and utter sadness and even embarrassment, yet he willed himself to conceal his heartbroken emotions back for your sake. It hurt like hell. What was supposed to be an exciting and relaxing end-of-winter-break party in Scarabia’s dorm (and an apology party for Jamil’s actions against you), turned awkward. Neither of you stayed any longer once you went your separate ways.

Despite what had happened, when you received a proper smartphone (and a proper phone plan to boot) as a gift for Christmas, one of the first things you did was transfer all your old contacts into the new device. The first person you messaged was Malleus, wanting to check in on him after your last encounter and to wish him a happy holiday. He answered back in a matter of minutes, much to your surprise. While he’s not the most tech-savvy, your major concern was whether he was holding up well after what happened and if you guys were going to remain as friends. You went on a whole tangent, trying your best to not sound so desperate and ensure that your response is in no way his fault because it most certainly is not. If there’s anyone to blame, it’s you.

Gunter suddenly tenses up. His fur instinctually puffs out, trying to appear bigger in anticipation of whatever threat he’s detected in the kitchen. Metallic clanking and clashing come from underneath the kitchen island where you store all the pots, pans, and heavy-duty appliances. A loud and harsh crash riles up Gunter enough that he feels the need to growl at whatever is underneath the cupboard.

You quietly move past him and wave your arm, signaling him to move back a bit. He listens to your orders and takes a few slow steps back. You position yourself on the side of the cabinet, fingertips pressing onto the top of the door to prepare to open.

“On my mark,” you whisper to Gunter. “One... Two…Three!”

You yank the door open, and Gunter quickly launches himself towards the potential threat. Though, not a second passes before he’s suddenly skidding across the floor, trying to immediately halt himself. He barely avoids hitting his head against the wood and giving himself a nasty bruise. When you ask him what’s wrong, he sticks his head into the cabinet and pulls out the apparent intruder.

It’s Blossom, a young fawn you rescued from the rose gardens of the Heartslaybul dorm. It was during the preparation of the unbirthday party near the start of the school year that subsequently led to dorm leader Riddle’s overblot. Cater assigned Grimm, Ace, Deuce, and yourself to paint the roses red with him. On top of rose painting duty, Cater was also on the lookout for a supposed ‘rose thief’ who had been snagging some roses from their garden right from under their noses. The scoundrel they were looking for was the fawn before you. From the way he still wobbled on his feet, he wasn’t even a month old when you initially rescued him. He’s lucky you found him when you did. His front leg was caught in a rusted and dull, but full-sized bear trap they set up in case the thief was a wild animal.

“What are you doing in there?” you ask the little troublemaker. “Probably trying to find a snack to chew on, huh?”

Blossom thrashes, trying to break free from Gunter’s hold on his scruff. He of course fails, but not without giving out a distressed scream and trying to plead for forgiveness by giving you his best innocent look. You shake your head before looking up at the small clock hung up on the wall above the refrigerator. It runs on battery so you have to worry about the time no longer being correct when the house lacks power.

It’s 6:15, still way too early. You tell Gunter to let go of Blossom and he does it without argument. Blossom quickly runs up to you, using your own body as a foothold to jump up into your arms. Once you have a hold of him, he bombards your face with little licks and nuzzles of his snout. While this action is normal and you would gladly accept it, you know better than to think it’s not the fawn’s attempts at trying to distract you from his misdeed.

“If you’re looking for the sugared flower petals, you won’t have any luck down there,” you tell him. He immediately stops his loving ministrations and gives out a disappointingly snort before relaxing in your arms.

You chuckle and give him a few apologetic pets on the head as you walk over to one of the upper cupboards and rummage around the various jars, trying to locate the dried venison for Gunter. You also grab a jar placed far in the back with the aforementioned candied rose petals Blossom was most definitely looking for. The moment you open the jar and the heavy scent of sweetness and floral whiffs in the air, Blossom begins to excitedly thrash about in your arms and tries to stick his head into the container. Luckily, the small nubs on his head, his newly budding antlers, stop him from reaching too deep.

You spend the next few minutes feeding your companions their early morning treat. The doorbell rings as you let Blossom lick the last specks of sugar off of your now damp palm. After rinsing your hands off and drying them, you head to the door. You open it and take in the sight of a newly arrived Malleus, dressed in a simple black dress shirt and a pair of loose-fitting linen pants you made for him when he expressed discomfort over his PE uniform the last time he helped you in your garden.

“Good morning!” you greet him as brightly as you can without being too loud.

“A good morning to you as well,” he greets back. Unlike you, who is still groggy and slow, he seems properly energized despite the time. You’re jealous. You’ve been waking up at the crack of dawn for years, at least a decade now, yet your body isn’t used to the early routine. Though compared to the hundreds of years Malleus has on you, you probably won’t show any sign of improvement until your hairs are gray.

“Have you eaten yet?” Malleus asks.

You shake your head. “The electricity is out, so I can’t use the stove or open the fridge too often.”

“Crowley still hasn’t replaced your generator?”

“No,” you frown. “Every time I try to bring it up he either gives an outlandish excuse or just flat out tells me I don’t need a new one.”

His eyebrows pressed together, clearly upset as you are at the headmaster’s failure as your caretaker. You reassure him it’s fine. Everyone in the dorm has been saving money for emergencies like this, and it just so happens that the money you’ll make for selling the produce you collect today will bring in just enough to buy a brand new generator. You’ll be out of electricity for another week, two at most, but have enough firewood and nonperishable foods to last until then.

“You should at least make yourself some coffee,” Malleus urges. “It’s bad to work on an empty stomach. You've said so yourself.”

“I will once Grim and the ghosts wake up,” you reassure. “For now, let’s head to the back and get started. There’s a lot to harvest, so the sooner we start, the sooner we’ll finish up.”

He’s clearly unhappy at your dismal of his concerns. You know that being so nonchalant towards a fae is rude, but you don’t want to worry him with your own issues. You also have no desire to eat or drink, not this early in the morning at least. If you tell him as much, he’ll probably freak out like he did last time, thinking you were unwell and forcing you to lie in bed for the rest of the day.

Yes, you could have pushed back and argued that you were fine, but it’s very hard to tell him “no” when his intentions are purely out of concern for your well-being. Better to let him hover over you and see that you’re fine than to leave him stewing in his anxieties in silence.

“What have you been growing this season?” Malleus asks as he tugs on the loaned gardening gloves you handed him.

“The usual spread. Some potatoes, cabbage, and carrots. The only fresh additions I planted are some peas and kale. Oh, and broccoli!”

“Did the crops hold well when you were gone?”

“They did thanks to the ghosts. The heat from the fire faeries around the campus also made them easier to protect from the cold,” you explain. “I should probably give them some type of exotic wood as a little thank you gift.”

“You can never go wrong with a bit of mahogany,” Malleus says as he ties back his hair.

You hand him a straw hat, one that you weaved to accommodate for his black horns. “I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“Your welcome,” he smiles at you before turning back to your garden. “So where shall we start first?”

“I’ll work on picking the cabbage heads. You can cut off the pea pods and we’ll go from there.”

“Very well. I’ll follow your lead.”

It’s 8 a.m. You know this because Ace and Deuce are woken up at this hour by Riddle and one of the first things they do is bombard you with text messages which usually forces you to turn your phone on silent mode. Despite it being late winter, you’re already working up a sweat from the repetitive and demanding motions of picking and carrying around baskets full of vegetables and cleaning them. Malleus is no better, hand continuously raising to his face to wipe away the constant wetness clinging to his forehead. You know he’s not used to manual labor like you are, so you try to bring him a pail of water every so often so he can stay properly hydrated.

“Oh my, you’re already up?”

You turn around to see who’s speaking to you and see one of the ghosts that live with you and Grim in Ramshackle floating towards you.

“Good morning!” you greet him. “Did you need something?”

“No no,” he shakes his head. “I just came to check up on my bees and saw you already hard at work.”

The ghost (Franklin is his name, but you all call him Frankie for short by his insistence), affectionately ruffles your hair with his large white palm. He’s one of the tamer ghosts, but he’s still capable of pulling a prank on you or his fellow housemates now and then. You and he have been cultivating and maintaining a small beehive since October, but he does most of the work and maintenance since he has more experience in the ways of beekeeping than you from when he was alive.

Frankie does a quick once over of the garden, his scanning gaze doubling back at seeing Malleus carefully rinse a couple of heads of broccoli.

“How long has he been here?”

“Since 6:30,” you answer back. “Why?”

“No one gets up that early unless it’s for someone they fancy,” he says rather nonchalantly, but the way he quickly side-eyes you show that he’s clearly talking about you. You try your best to appear unaffected and give a “Is that right?” type of hum, but your efforts are in vain since he just laughs at you.

“If even you know, that means he’s got it bad.”

You say nothing back because you honestly don’t know what to say, or if you should. You’re content to just go back to plucking potatoes out from the ground, but Frankie doesn’t seem to want to leave you alone just yet. He asks you to come with him to the greenhouse where the hive is being kept. The small glass enclosure also houses some flowers and herbs you use for cooking or medicine.

You quickly close the door behind you once you enter, reveling in the warmer air that hits your face. While Frankie lights his cigar and gets a heavy cloud of smoke going (his personal method of keeping the bees calm), he has you open the top and carefully pull out the panels one by one while he checks for any signs of a decaying hive and ensures the queen is alive and healthy. One of your initial worries about beekeeping was getting stung, but Frankie reassured you it’ll only happen if you purposely upset the bees or fail to care for the hives consistently. Now, you gladly let the buzzing honeybees wander around your bare skin.

As Frankie pulls out his cigar from between his lips and taps off the ashes into the respective ashtray, he looks over at you and asks, “Is everything ok?”

You give him a confused expression as you snap the cover for the hive back into place. “I’m fine?”

“You sure? Because if you ask me, you don’t seem like it.”

“I mean, I already have a pile of schoolwork I need to finish and a rundown dorm to take care of. I’m as ok as anyone in my position can be-“

“I’m not talking about any of that,” he interrupts. “I’m talking about you. Forget about Grim and your studies. How are you doing?”

“I’m fine,” you answer again.

“Are you sure?”

Well, when he puts it that way, even he must be able to see that you’re clearly not doing alright. In fact, you haven’t been alright since you were literally kidnapped and held against your will in the Scarabia dorm. Luckily everything worked out fine for everyone else, but not so much for you. You’ve noticed that your appetite is waning and you wake up multiple times during the night because you don’t feel safe, even in your own room.

Malleus’s confession unfortunately was another wrench being thrown at you. With your hands already so full of this and that, you’re struggling to figure out what needs a priority and which issues you need to either drop entirely or find someone trustworthy to take care of it in your stead. It’s hard to ask people for help when they either find a convenient reason to say no or you feel as if you can’t trust them to do something as simple as watering your plants. The only person you feel you can trust and ask for help is Malleus, and things aren’t exactly as they were between the two of you.

“Talk to me kiddo,” Frankie prods. “What’s been eating at you?”

He lifts his ashtray and makes to snuff out his cigar so he can focus on speaking to you, but you hastily reach over and stop him. You take the smoke from him and bring it up to your lips and puff a few grey clouds. Strangely enough, it tastes rather pleasant, floral, and creamy. You didn’t expect to taste like this because of the way it smells, like soil that was just freshly rained on.

“Sorry,” you hand it back to him. “I haven’t eaten and I’m practically running on fumes.”

“That’s alright,” he says, handing it back to you. “You look like you need it more than me.”

Malleus carefully blows small bits of green fire onto his freezing fingertips, trying to warm them up after being drenched in the icy water from the water pump. He looks over his shoulder, over the stalks of peas, towards you. You’re still in the greenhouse and frantically moving your lips. He can see your eyes are glistening with a fresh layer of… tears? You don’t allow a single drop to get past your lids, wiping them just at the last second before they can pass over the threshold.

He’s only ever seen you cry one other time, when he came to your rescue in Scarabia over the break. He initially thought he frightened you with his aggressive display of magic. Once the dust settled and the blot on Jamil was expunged, no one was more shocked than he was when you boldly ran straight towards him and jumped into his arms. It was all he ever wanted, what his mind dreamed of every single time he closed his eyes. He could no longer brush off the fluttering in his stomach as the mere excitement of making and spending time with his first genuine friend. He was determined to keep his newfound affections for you with him under lock and key, not willing to risk ruining your close-knit friendship with his selfish and potentially one-sided desires.

Your desperate embrace, your toughie exterior lowering to that of a sniveling and shaking human, gave Malleus the impression that the only reason you would display such vulnerability before him was that you reciprocated his sentiments. It gave him a sense of confidence he never knew he was lacking, usually so sure of himself most other times. It made his chest burn with an aching desire to say “to hell with it all” and spill his heart right then and there.

When you extended the invitation you received from Kalim to him, he saw it as his proper opportunity to let his affections be known. He was upset (according to Lilia, more than usual) that he had to take Sebek and Silver along with him for the usual security, but he was determined to get them distracted long enough so he can pull you aside and confess to you without fear of interruption or letting his personal affairs be known to anyone else, at least, for as long as he can keep something so monumental under wraps.

As a prince, he has been taught to look at the long term for each of his decisions, as they carry substantial weight. The long term of pursuing a relationship with you meant having to deal with the prejudices and stigma against humans that still live within the hearts of his people. For once in his life, he didn’t want to think like an heir. As he watches you continue to talk to one of Ramshackle’s ghosts with increasing frustration, he realizes his love utterly blinded him back then. The only long-term his rose-tinted mind could comprehend was of the happy moments he had long conjured in his head becoming a reality.

You didn’t explicitly reject him, however; he knows your behavior well enough to know that once his feelings were laid bare before you, you would not take them into your arms and hand yours over in return. Arms crossed and avoidance of eye contact, you do this when you’re nervous or unsure, sometimes both. He held onto the self-indulgent hope that you’d show him what you look like when flustered. Perhaps you’d stutter?

You did stutter when you spoke up, but they were not the words that he wanted, that he thought he was, going to hear.

“Malleus...I’m so sorry…”

“Ah, you’re here early!”

“It’s just that…I don’t think I can…”

“Hey! Are you listening to me? You better not be ignoring me on purpose!”

“It’s not that I’m telling you I don’t feel the same way, but I can’t exactly say that I do. It’s just... I’ve never- “

“Tsu-no-ta-rou!” Grim’s shrill voice, still a bit riddled with drowsiness, still pierce Malleus’s eardrums and nearly causes him to drop the vegetable in his hand. “Pay attention to me when I’m speaking!”

“Quiet,” he growls at the monster. “If you need your master, they’re in the greenhouse. Though, you might want to come back another time.”

“Huh? Why’s that?”

Malleus lifts Grim from the back of his fuzzy robe (you must have made it and gifted it to him during the holidays) and points to you. Frankie has one of his translucent hands on your shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly now and then while he speaks. You were no longer wiping your face so furiously, allowing your tears to fall and drip off of your jaw and wet your shirt as you listened to your fellow dorm resident.

“What happened? Did you smash all the tomatoes again?” Grim cranes his neck to look at Malleus accusingly.

“No, I didn’t. Those are out of season.”

“Maybe it’s about what happened at Scarabia,” Grim muses. “They haven’t been sleepin’ too good since we came back, y’know?”

Malleus nearly drops the cat. “They haven’t?”

“Nah,” the cat answers, far too casually and dismissively for the fae’s liking.

“This is news to me,” Malleus says, almost whispering to himself. He’s sad, almost offended, at the fact that you haven’t told him you’ve been having some difficulties this whole time. You normally keep him up to date with your personal life. He’s even more offended once he realizes that you’ve been worrying and reassuring him that your friendship with him isn’t ruined after what’s happened.

There’s a small voice in the back of his mind, conniving and twisted, that feeds into his already prevalent belief that your unwillingness to share with him your personal problems anymore is a sign that he hasn’t earned your respect. It’s a ridiculous explanation, but no amount of reassuring from either you or himself is going to stop his Mind from asking such a multi-sided question. Surely, if you thought admirably of him, you’d continue to allow him to bear witness to your moments of weakness and vulnerability. He feels close to you, connected to you in a way he’s never felt. He can be slow and downright miss some references to your jokes and behavior. You always put on a face of understanding, but is he so lost that your patience has worn paper-thin?

Are his feelings for you truly one-sided? Is he still jumping to conclusions too soon and just needs to give you more time and space? Did he just set a course for a ruined friendship or could his hastiness have been a fruitful gamble?

If it’s not iron that kills him, it’s the uncertainty within his heart and mind.

A shrill whistle pierces through the air and Malleus’s eardrums. Grim hisses at the sudden noise and the hairs on his neck stand up. Even Frankie and you can hear and turn your heads towards the source despite still being in the middle of a conversation. The one who whistled was another one of the ghosts who live in Ramshackle. Johnathan is his name, usually shortened to Johnny. His sunken cheekbones make him look unassuming, but you’ve rightly warned Malleus never to turn your back on that one for too long. It’s a miracle that you can keep up with all their shenanigans.

“I got the generator to start up and made some coffee!” Johnny happily announces. “Come get it while it and the dorm are nice and warm!”

“I’ll have a cup or two, so long as there’s a ton of cream and sugar!” Grim says whilst smiling. “And I ain’t skimping this time on the sugar!”

“You better if you know what’s good for you,” you sternly say, now out of the greenhouse along with Frankie. “We’re short on sugar and I’m not stocking up till next weekend.”

“Whaaaat?!” Grim exclaims, his lower jaw almost reaching the floor. “Since when did you become such a cheapskate?”

Everyone, including Malleus, did a sharp intake of breath as soon as the words passed the cat’s mouth. Everyone turns their head towards you, awaiting your reaction to Grim’s comment. This isn’t the first time Grim has gotten lippy with you and, given his nature as a mischievous little monster (a common trait between Ramshackle’s residents, Malleus is now noticing), it won’t be his last no matter how badly you scare or pull a fast one under his clawed feet. Even when your face is all puffy and wet with semi-dried tears, the look of “oh you’re in it now” is still so panic-inducing to everyone, ghosts, and feline alike. To the sole Fae present, he thinks of you as nothing short of adorable and wants nothing more than to wipe your messy face clean.

“Well, if you want more sugar there is one way you can get some more.”

“W-W-What is it?” Grim says, pudgy body shaking and sinking into the comfort and small safety of his fuzzy robe.

You approach him and bend down to grab him by the back of his neck, lifting him so he’s at your eye level before deadpanning, “Get a job, Make some money, and then buy your own.”

Once you set Grim down, he scrambles back into the home with an almost comical amount of fear in his eyes. He screams about how he’s never getting a job even if it kills him and his continued determination to find the small money vault you have hidden around the dorm and spend it all on canned tuna. Johnny, Frankie, and you all give a unison chant of good luck to him before he disappears completely.

“Has he made any progress in his search?” Malleus asks.

“Our money vault isn’t even in the house, so no,” Johnny answers, resulting in you and Frankie cackling and high-five one another.

With the power back on, you announce that it was time for a well-deserved break. It’s your turn to make breakfast and you immediately begin to ask everyone for their preferences. Frankie cuts you off and insists he take over your duties for the day. You normally would protest and insist to whoever was offering to cover for you it wasn’t a problem for you at all. “I enjoy doing [insert chore], so it’s fine!” is your usual go-to reasoning, but not this time.

Malleus notices the way you make to protest as usual, but you quickly back down and just let Frankie go ahead inside to take over for you. In normal Ramshackle fashion, Frankie mentions the cigar you were puffing and waving around earlier and says that you owe him another one, particularly an artisanal one that he’s recently read about in the local newspaper and has been aching to try.

“You got any more highly specific goods you want me to fight tooth and nail for?” you sneer.

“No, just the cigar will do,” he says before turning around to head back inside. Before he can close the door behind him all the way he pulls it back and says, “If you get it sometime this week I’ll buy a new bag of sugar.”

You whisper an impressive string of curses under your breath. Malleus has to restrain the urge to laugh at your colorful vocabulary.

“In that case, I hope your schedule is free tomorrow night. I’ll have it by then.”

Frankie gives you a thumbs up before heading back inside. Once the door behind him clicks shut, you turn towards Malleus and he physically feels his body shift from somewhat relaxed to stiff and proper. You notice this and crinkle your nose a bit, something to do when you find something endearing or as a way of silently giggling. Malleus watches with such an unnecessary amount of focus as you reach up to adjust his straw hat and wipe a bit of dirt off the collar of his shirt.

“I’m sorry for leaving you hanging back there,” you say as you pick off a stray leaf that somehow got tangled in his dark locks. “I’m also sorry you had to see me crying like that. I’ve just been so tired lately.”

There it is again. That damn twisting ache right in his heart.

“It’s fine,” he reassures you. “But if it isn’t too rude of me to ask, is your lack of sleep really all that’s wrong with you?”

You give out a long sigh. “I’m guessing Grim told you a bit of what’s been happening since winter break?”

“He has.”

Your arms cross and the ground suddenly becomes more interesting. You’re unsure, but the way your eyebrows press together is a sign that you’re conflicted. Malleus feels his frostbitten hands accumulate a layer of sweat as you silently mull over your thoughts. Despite the pain and hesitance in his heart, he wills himself to grasp you by the arm and pull you into an awkward hug. He knows it’s not exactly what you might need at the moment, and he was fully preparing you to push him away. He’s relieved when you bring your arms around his torso and reciprocate the embrace.

“I’m tired,” you sigh

“You haven’t been resting well, so it makes sense.“

“No,” you shake your head, the tips of your hair tickling Malleus’s neck. “It’s not just a lack of sleep that’s making me feel exhausted. After what happened with Scarabia, especially with Jamil, I don’t feel safe anymore.”

“Are you afraid?” he asks. To think of you as fearful is an entirely foreign concept for him when you’ve only ever been confident and certain of yourself since the first time he met you.

“Yeah, I am,” you admit without skipping a beat.

Considering what you told him, Malleus thinks your fear is justified. You have no defense against magic…

He fills a strain in his neck as his entire body suddenly seized up. You notice this and pull away to ask him what’s wrong. “Nothing,” he quickly dismisses, but you don’t let him go silent on you.

“If,” he hesitates. He’s thinking too rashly already, yet he’s still so compelled to act upon his thoughts. “Should anyone attempt to do you harm, I swear upon my name and title that I will do whatever it takes to protect you.”

He means every word, but you seem to take it far too casually than he would have liked. You press your face against his shoulder and laugh against his skin, your breath bringing him some much-needed temporary warmth. Such an ordinary action, yet it causes another pang within his heart. It settles next to the one that arose before, but he bites his tongue and endures it for your sake.

“Maybe you could play that electric violin for whoever comes after me,” you jest.

As embarrassing as it is to hear that you know about that incident (he’ll have to reprimand Lilia for telling you about that), he can’t help but laugh along with you. If making a bunch of teenagers’ foam from the mouth amuses you, then so be it.

“Thank you for offering to get your hands dirty for my sake,” you say. “That’s one thing I respect about you. You take care of the people you care for.”

His body goes still once again. “Is that right?” is all his mind can wrap around and say.

“Yes, oh Wise and Great Lord Malleus. I do, in fact, respect you.”

He cringes at that title. It’s something he has heard Sebek try to enforce you to refer to Malleus as, which you never do purely so you can get a rise out of his loyal guard. Before he can ask you to never call him that again, a bunch of howl’s ring out, and the two of you pull away from each other. The wolf’s howling is usually a sign that food is ready, which you seem rather eager to get to as you interlock your arm with his and drag him inside with you.

He looks back at his basket of still dirty vegetables. “What about-“

“It’s alright! I’m not throwing a fuss over a few broccoli heads!”

Crispy bacon, over easy and scrambled eggs, and a mountain of sizzling hash browns. Once everyone grabs a plate and sits down at the dining table (Malleus sticks close to you, hoping he can sit next to you), they grab whatever pieces of food they want in whichever quantity. Somewhere in the next room over, a faint melody plays through the speaker of an old record player. The vintage singer has a rather cheeky attitude in her vocals but with the accompanying music, it all comes together harmoniously. It’s perfect for a rather excitable breakfast.

It seems you never told the ghosts too many details about your sudden disappearance during the break. You downplay the true extent of your dilemma as you willingly giving your time and effort to help a desperate Jamil figure out what was causing his normally kind dorm leader to have a sudden personality switch. The ghosts listen carefully, and as you gradually get to the big climax that is Jamil’s betrayal and overblot, followed by Malleus’s sudden appearance, they’re all practically hanging on the edge of their seats. Your tale even intrigues the wolves and Blossom. They gather and settle near the legs of your chair, ushering you to continue your story by whining and scratching your ankle.

You don’t exaggerate Malleus’s part in your tale, something he greatly appreciates. You tell them how things happened just as they did: Grey clouds suddenly covering the sky and the occasional peak of lightning through their fogginess. Just when it seems like Jamil has the upper hand and is going to put an end to Grim and you, as well as Jade, Floyd, and Azul of Octavinelle, Malleus appears out of nowhere and effortlessly zaps the blot right out of the vice dorm leader of Scarabia.

“That deserves some praise,” Benjamin, the third of your ghostly residents, raises his half-filled mug of coffee and extends it towards the middle of the table. “To Malleus!”

Everyone, including you and Grim, raises your glasses and repeats his chant. “To Malleus!”

“To me, I suppose,” Malleus half-heartedly raises his own cup. “It really wasn’t much effort, or any praise really.”

He catches you looking at him in his peripheral and he feels a lump form in this throat that he immediately swallows. “I simply did what I believed you would have done for me if our positions were reversed.”

“Well, you’re not wrong there,” you say after swallowing a hefty mouthful of scrambled eggs. “But it’s nice knowing you have my back. It makes me feel safe.”

“Safe?” Malleus is surprised to hear you say this, considering what you told him earlier. “I make you feel safe?”

Now it’s your turn to be surprised. “Y-Yeah. I guess you do.”

“You guess?”

“You do,” you say, more definitively this time. “I promise. If you didn’t you’d know.”

He can’t help but laugh. “I can only imagine what interacting with you would be like then.”

“Probably not that good, or not at all. I steer clear of people I don’t particularly like.”

His eyebrows raise in intrigue as he sips his now lukewarm coffee. “What makes you dislike someone?”

“I dislike people I have no respect for,” you say casually. Malleus thinks you might be joking or poking fun at him, but how you take the time to look up to him while you busy yourself with feeding Gunter a few bits of bacon clearly means you’re trying to tell him something secretly. It’s definitely something along the lines of, “I don’t know where this mindset of me not respecting you came from, but it’s a load of bullshit and you need to get that thought out of your head.”

Even within his head, your language is still so vulgar and blunt. Only you would talk to him in such a rude manner.

But he respects that part about you.

[ladyideal]

Number One

Pairing: John Kennex x Reader

Word Count: 1508

Rating: 18+

Warnings: dom/sub, handcuffs, lots of dirty talk, fingering, language

A/n: I uh… Got mad at writing plot for my lotr fics and suddenly I um. Just go and thank @asraime for this. xD As always, if you don’t want to read the smuts, please block #3hot5me 

You hummed in the apartment, vacuuming the living room as you waited for John to get off work. You had gotten a rare early day from the office, and used it as wisely as you could. Every inch of the apartment you shared with your boyfriend was scrubbed, vacuumed, and wiped off.

“Hi sweetheart,” John called from the doorway as he let himself in. “How was your-?”

You looked up from your dusting, batting your eyelashes innocently at the detective in front of you. “Welcome home, love.”

“Is that- is that my shirt?”

You looked down at the oversized shirt, at the edges that barely covered your ass. “Was.”

“Was?” He echoed, taking a dangerous step closer. His eyes glinted with mischief, a sly smirk growing on his face. “Are you admitting to stealing from an officer of the law?”

“What are you going to do about it,” You walked closer to him, until your chest pressed against him. “Sir?”

His nose flared, and with one swoop, he picked you up and threw you over his shoulder. “John, what are you- Ah!" 

Why was your boyfriend always interrupting you this way? A stray finger swiped through your outer folds, silencing any other attempts of wiggling out of his grasp.

"Someone’s eager,” A smug voice spoke, observing the wetness on his finger. “And I see someone opted to not wear any panties today.”

You moaned as you stared down at his ass. After throwing you gently onto the bed, John crawled over you, smashing his lips against yours. Whimpering under his care, you threaded your fingers through his hair, keeping him close to you until you were forced to break for air.

“Let’s get this evidence off of you,” The cop grasped the edges of his top, and slowly lifted it upward. As every inch of your skin was revealed to his lust blown eyes, your breath hitched as his fingers ghosted on your skin, almost as if he was exploring and putting in memory once again. 

Once your shirt was thrown off, his kisses trailed down from your lips to your jawline, down your neck, and gently nipped at the spots on your shoulder. You moaned, immediately turning jelly in his arms. 

“Pleaaase, John,” Your hands reached out for him, needing to feel him. Instead, you  roughly pulled his shoulder harness down to you. “Gonna fuck me properly, Officer?”

You trailed your hands along his sides, reveling in him.

“Nuh uh, darlin’,” He gently admonished, bringing one of his large hand to gather both of your wrists together. With practiced ease, he fished out the padded handcuffs from within a nearby drawer. Before you could pout and whine indignantly at him, the telltale click was heard from up above.

“Good girl,” The cop praised at your silence. “Remember what to say if you want out.”

You tested the restraints, and nodded. “Yes.”

“Good,” He spoke right before he tweaked a nipple, and sucked on the other. You cried out wordlessly, arching your back at the sudden rush of pleasure. “You have the right to remain quiet.”

Going along with your role, you attempted a smirk. ““What are the charges, sir?” 

“Theft,” He carefully bit your nipple, as a hand trailed down your body, hooking the waistband of your shorts.

"Possession of a deadly weapon, illegal use of said deadly weapon, threatening and torturing an officer of the law,” He continued as you moaned, pulling against your restraints. Just as slow as he did to take off your shirt, he took his sweet time, smirking as you wiggled around in need to stave off the mounting frustration. 

When the last of your clothing was off, you watched as your boyfriend kneeled between your legs, all the while hating the smirk on his face. A wandering finger tested how wet you were. Feeling the flood of arousal there, he growled.

Without wasting any time, two fingers sank into you, his thumb circled around your clit while the rest sought out your g-spot. You gasped again, tugging against your restraints.

"Look at me,” The detective demanded, and you tilted your head downward to look at him. “You gonna be good and confess for me?”

"Johnnnn,” You moaned out with a smug smirk, but immediately disappeared as he stopped.

Completely.

You whined again.

“What was that, sweetheart?” John spoke, suckling on one of your abandoned nipples. “What’s the magic word?”

“Pleeeease!” You cried out, as tears of wanton need dribbled down your cheeks. 

“Close enough,” He shrugged, but resumed driving you mad. For a moment, your vision whited out when he rubbed your gspot. Twitching around on the bed, you let out an involuntary moan. 

“This what it takes for you to talk, darlin’?” He rubbed the spot in determination, and you came undone with a wordless shout, loud enough to wake the living dead. Your pussy spasmed around his fingers, clenching and unclenching. Screaming his name moments later, you arched your back and thrusted your hips into his hand.  Your vision whited out, as the electricity pumped through your veins from the orgasm flung you higher and higher until you nearly blacked out.

“Still with me?” Your boyfriend tenderly spoke, once you caught your breath. 

“Fuck,” You forced out.

He smiled in return, and you watched in rapt attention as he threw his shirt off, proudly showing off the toned abs he had there. With a smirk, he unbuttoned his trousers, kicked them to the side of the growing pile of clothes, and agonizingly peeled his boxers off.

His cock stood in attention, red and glistening with precum at the tip. Unconsciously, you licked your lips at the sight in front of you, and then back up at the gorgeous man towering over.

“Are you going to confess?” Your boyfriend repeated, crawling back on top of you to kiss you, this time with a renewed vengeance. As his cock rubbed deliciously against your core and clit, you moaned. 

“It was fresh out of the dryer,” You babbled out, feeling a hand returned to rub your clit. He was rewarding you for every sentence you spoke of your alleged crime, and you felt his smirk against your skin as you continued. 

Rolling a condom on with his free hand, he purred into your ear. “There she is, such a good girl you are. All good girls should be rewarded, shouldn’t they?”

Your gaze returned to his cock, and quickly nodded. Forcing a leg to wrap around his waist, you tried your best to bring him closer. This time, he held your hips as he thrusted deep, bottoming out quickly. You barely had time to keen his name before your breath was stolen away with another fierce kiss. 

Once you’ve fully adjusted to him, you tried snapping your hips up, only to be stilled by a piercing pair of hazel eyes and a menacingly growl. His thrusts rocked and squeaked the bed.  For a while, John didn’t speak, only sucking hickeys on your neck. The way he moved against you was so rough, so fast. It was almost bordering painful, but sweet at the same time.

You couldn’t speak, only emitting pitiful whines and wordless cries as you approached the edge more rapidly than before. A familiar urge surged in you.

“What do you plead, darlin’?” He managed out, sounding strained as he stuck to his role for as long as he could. 

“Not guilty,” You choked out, teetering again on the precipice once more. Arms strained against the handcuffs, and your legs kicked out, beyond your capabilities to avoid hitting him.

He hummed in consideration, hand wiggling between your two bodies in search for your clit. Crashing his lips upon yours, he tweaked your it just right.

Ripping your lips from his, you loudly screamed his name to the heavens above, hips trusting uncontrollably into his. As your pussy clamped vise like around his cock, your orgasm triggered his. With only a swear as a warning, his cock twitched and swelled within you. 

John groaned out your name repeatedly. Your orgasms milked each other, slinging higher and higher until you were ready to plead for mercy. Once he came down, he dropped against your chest, panting hard.

After what seemed like an eternity, you too came down, exhausted and panting like you just ran a marathon. 

““Back with me, sweetheart?” He grinned tiredly at you, pulling his softening cock out. 

You only nodded, after an involuntary whine at the loss. He reached forward again, this time unlocking the handcuffs and easing your wrists out. 

"Good?”

“Yeah. That was great, John.”

Once he had cleaned you up, he snuggled up against you once more, humming happily in the post coital haze. You were content to have your detective back at home, safe and sound.

“Love, we’re gonna have to do laundry again this week,” You chuckled in the silence after a moment, glancing over at the pile of clothes on the floor. “Maybe clean the sheets too?”

“Let me feel my legs first, honey.”

You laughed to yourself as John curled up against you, content to stay on the bed for as long as possible. He was still your teddy bear, and no matter what, you could still count on him to return to you.

Permanent Tags: @marvelouslytrekking @asraime @mournthewicked

[sunnyborabora]

Bored (Haechan x Reader)

Hi there! I know I was supposed to publish this two weeks ago but damn I went to see BTS in concert and I am still depressed about it and I found a job with the most inconvenient schedule ever. RIP my free time but my bank account is happier! Thank you for all your kind words, it helps me a lot and motivates me to write everytime! For the person who requested this, I didn’t made an headcanon but a drabble so it can be longer like you asked! It was really funny to write and I hope you’ll enjoy it! 

Warning: smut, awkward situation, semi public sex, Donghyuck loves you a lot 

Heachan was bored out of his mind. When he asked you to come over he didn't realized it meant a movie night with his members here. When he thought about the fact that he could be making out with you right now, he was whiffing non stop. « Donghyuk stop moving I can't watch the movie. » He started to think you were doing it on purpose. But you seemed really caught up in the movie. « I can't believe he just said that. -You know what I can't believe ! You saying that you are team Iron Man and not Captain ». You were so cute, invested in the movie like this. You almost ripped off Mark's head a few minutes ago because he was criticizing Captain America. He would have kissed you right away if ten other guys were not here, spread all around you. At least you had the couch for the both of you and he was free of touching you. The thing was that you didn't really agree to this. It was not his fault if he was so hungry for you. You had been away for a few weeks for your studies which was a shame because for once he was able to stay in Korea with you. He had not seen you in a month and now that you were here, he was unable to resist. Your head was on his shoulder, and everything was a torture for him. Your bare legs on his thighs were so soft as he was stroking them gently. His right hand was slowly tracing patterns on your inner thighs as he was watching you. He could see you were starting to pay less and less attention to the movie. You shivered in his arms as he grabbed your flesh with a bit more strength. « Stop it Donghyuk » you whispered still looking at the screen. You were still not paying attention to him. You didn’t seem to realise that his hand was slowly stroking your bare thigh. He was getting higher and higher near your underwear, and he could feel you shivered. He smirked, playing it off when you turned around to look at him. When he touched the fabric of your underwear with his skillful fingers you gasped at the sudden action then immediately bit your lip. You had to stay quiet. You could have protest but you didn't because in fact all of this situation was turning you on a lot. He knew exactly what to do to get your gears going, and sometimes you even hated him for it. He kept stroking your folds over the fabric. It was weird the feeling of the clothes on your sensitive skin as he was brushing it mercilessly. He could feel you growing wet by seconds, and he could not help but laugh.

« Take them off. » Donghyuck whispered in your ear.

You were the cutest creature on this planet, all flushed, obstinately looking at the screen as if you were not taking of your panties in a room full of other guys. You banded your legs under the cover making your underwear slip along your legs without anyone noticing. Only your legs touched his legs, and with the ruffle of the blanket he can peek a bit of your naked skin under it. He should be worried about you being half naked in a room full of men but it was triggering him in a way he didn't expect. Taking his middle finger, he split your outer folds. You let out a sharp moan as you feel him caress your sensitive nub in slow but firm circular motions. Biting your lip harder from slight embarrassment, you open your legs slightly, hoping he wouldn’t notice, to give him further access. But of course, he noticed, and slightly chuckled at the thought. His hand squeezed firmer on your breast. His fingers pinched tighter at your nipples, teasing you even further. Both of his hand movements became firmer and faster. You start breathing heavily at these sensations. You try to lie still, but your hips, as if they had a mind of their own, started to gyrate. You can feel a warm sensation building up in your loins. Your arm slowly rises to grasp the back of his head for support. He chuckles at your movements while nibbling at your neck.With a smug look on his face, he licked your earlobe, and that was all you needed to finish. If he wasn't in the middle of crowded h would have spanked you, your plump ass looking super good in that skirt you were wearing, but the sound of his hand against your skin would be too loud, drawing too much attention. He was still a possessive man, he would cling to you like a chewing gum if he needed to make clear to everyone that you were taken. Hoppefully he didn't need to do this with his members, but still he didn't wanted to get caught. His hands finally reached up to caress your ass.

« You're so wet already... »

After what he had done of course you were. You shuddered in his arms even more. You kept your hands at your sides tho, unsure of what to do. It would be too suspicious and you needed all your concentration not to moan.

« Spread your legs a bit more »

He bring you closer, you head now on his shoulder. It was too hard to concentrate on the movie now. You said goodbye to captain america as you close your eyes, burrying you nose in Donghyuck neck. You couldn't help but glanced nervously at the boys on the floor, they were all caught up in the movie, not mooving an inch. Donghyuck slided his hand around as he pressed his thumb against your clit . You bit your lip and bucked your hips forward into his touch. You felt it, he’s hard, and you just want to rut against his finger to make him go deaper inside and after ride the bulge in his pants, but it's impossible.

« I wish you could ride me Y/n. I am so hard right now » He whispered against your skin, still rubbing your clit.

You are now dripping on his pant, his finger glistening with your juice.

« But we can't right ? You don't want them to see you like this, so desperate for me, right baby? Touching you like that in front of everyone. »

His voice was low, unable to be heard for anyone but you, but you’re already struggling to not make any noises. Keeping quiet entirely will likely be impossible. And indeed it was impossible, because you gasped loudly when Donghyuck undid his pants and freed his hard cock.

« Really Y/n ? Are you that passionate about the movie ? » Mark mocked you as you stood mortified on Donghyuck lap.

« Apparently she is » this one answered smirking at you as you can't help but blush.

You looked at him panicked as you feel him slip inside. You can't help , you took a deep breath at the pleasure finally coursing through your veins.

« Anyone could just turn around and see you, but you don't even seem to mind right now. You are clenching hard around me baby. You want them to see us? » He asked, his hands on your hips making you wiggle on his thighs, his cock twitching inside you.

You were tempted to run away, take your dumbass of a boyfriend hand and took him to his room so you could actually do something. Everything right now was a torture. He was so deep inside pushing on your sensitive spots, but he was not moving.

You take another look at the other boys, then look back at Donghyuck and how you are sitting on his lap, his hard cock deep inside you ready for you to ride him. You nodded so ashamed of you, as you started lifting your hips slightly just enough for Donghyuck to take a deep breath, as he finally felt you moving as you were like a vice around him.

« You are feeling so good... Fuck Y/n I don't know if I can handle this ».

He seriously started to regret initiating this. He sometimes forgot how his body was reacting to yours and how he was in the end wrapped around your finger. Donghyuck dropped his head back, watching you from his lazily hooded eyes as you are trying to move as subtly as possible.

« I want to fuck you properly... » He stroked his thumb over your hip.

You started moving against him not enough to ease up and back down but subtly swiveling your hips, biting your lips to keep from making noise. A half-swallowed moan almost bursted out from you, and Donghyuck, despite all of his talk, immediately slapped a hand over your mouth and glanced around.

« Quiet baby, keep going »

He took of his hand from over your mouth and you buried your face in his neck. You ground down on him, clenching, trying to stave off your orgasm when his free hand got busy toying with your clit. Your thighs ache from the position, but Donghyuck watching you with dark eyes, kept teasing your clit with his fingers. You can feel the start of your orgasm, shots of electricity running down your limb. His hips started to twitch up into you, rubbing against yours. Your sounds were stifled as you bite the skin of his neck, damp with your breath and probably bruised from your teeth.

« Hey ! Can you like settle down ! You 're giving me motion sickness ! »

You froze like a deer in headlight. Donghyuck froze as well and you can see the fear in his eyes.

« Sorry John, I am just tired.... I am going to go to sleep... » you said.

Donghyuck helped you sit next to him as he put himself back in his pants. His ability to look so effortlessly innocent was always surprising you. In no time he was leading you upstairs to his bedroom.

« Fuck we almost got caught on this one ! »

You turned around furious.

« It's all your fault ! Why are you like this ! -Stop it babe, we both know that it's not what's bothering you right now »

He was suddenly very close. He kissed you passionately and push you slowly down the mattress. He got between your legs, a smirk playing on his lips, opening them to make space for him as he started leaving kisses on your inner thighs, getting closer and closer to your core. The previous edging had made you so sensitive, so ready for him. He kissed your core without hesitation, before spreading you open and starting to lick your clit his tongue hard against you. You could not help but arch your back and moan his name. He started eating you out like a starve man, and he was in a sense because he could never get enough of you. Slurping sounds and your moans were the only noises that could be heard in the room and it made every thing more obscene. Your moans were getting louder, the pleasure was starting to build up again, more intense than before as you didn't have to restrain yourself.

« Hyuk, I am so-so close ! » you moaned out.

Hearing that, he moaned around your clit, making you cry even more. Even when he inserted two fingers in, it encountered no resistance as you were dripping.

« Oh god, oh god... »

You were starting to see white, you couldn’t hold it anymore as you arched your back and finally cummed, covering his fingers and his mouth with your juices. He immediately licked his fingers cleans, savoring your taste like you were the finest meal.You were blissed out still when you felt him above you, kissing the corner of your lips, your chin, your nose.

« You’re beautiful » he whispered.

« I love you so much ».

With that, you felt him going inside you, moans already spilling out both of your mouths. It felt so good after waiting for so long, his member sending mini electric shock all around your core. Donghyuck was trusting into you like his life depended on it. He was looking into your eyes, his sight so full of love, admiration.

« I love you so much »

He was close from all the pent-up tension of all the movie night action and from hearing you moan his name so loud. Your legs snaked around his waist, locking him in place as he started thrusting slow and deep, his arms on the sides of your head, his chest pressed flush to yours. It was so extremely intimate, so passionate, you swore you could cum again just by feeling him so close to you. There was no need for erratic thrusts or dirty talking, this time it would be pure love making, Donghyuck was going slow and deep, kissing your neck, your chin, your face, your lips, making love to you as if you were the most precious thing in the world. And you were, in his world. Your moans echoed in the room. Eventually he picked up the pace, chasing his and your orgasms and you couldn’t have asked for more. His hips rolled perfectly into yours bringing you closer and closer by the second.

« Baby, I’m cumming… », he said, groaning, spilling his seed into you.

You came as soon as you felt him cumming inside. The way he shivered in your arms, his member twitching as you were clenching around him like crazy.

« Come here, love » he said, opening his arms for you.

You immediately cuddled up to him, head in the crook of his neck, smile on your face.

« I love you » you mumbled. « That’s my good girl », he whispered playfully, giving you one final kiss on your hair. « Shut up ».

[doseofheroes]

Stalling

Summary: When Bucky is injured in the woods, he comes across a small cabin.

Words: 4072 (wtf)

Pair: bucky x reader

Warnings: violence, swearing

A/n: it is literally my first time writing anything besides a paper for school so sorry for how terrible it is but I had the idea and wanted to try! Also learnt the hard way about formatting so hopefully its somewhat coherent. Also also I wrote it in a night on my phone... Idk if literally anyone will read this but im kinda happy with how it turned out so enjoy!

When you moved out to the middle of nowhere a couple of months ago you knew you were just stalling. After graduating university four quick years later you were no more sure of what you wanted to do now then when you started. So yes, time off to be alone and think for yourself was a stall tactic, but doesn’t mean it was the wrong move right?

The first couple of weeks were peaceful. You were in a small cabin you rented off airbnb located somewhere on the outer edge of the ** forest. Snow fell as slowly creating a fresh layer as you sat inside cozied up with a blanket and some tea reading by the fire. A clichè but still nice.

You made yourself some pasta for dinner and listened to some old Amy Whinehouse tunes. Cleaning up the dishes you decided to call it an early night and went to bed. Little did you know what or rather who would show up at your door that night.

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

Bucky and Natasha had set out on mission to the depths of the ** forest where a known hydra base was located. Their job was to only collect intel for now so they could make a proper plan and bring back the group for execution. The base had turned out to be much larger than they had anticipated counting over 250 hydra agents working on the base so far.

“How the hell are we just getting wind of this now?” Bucky stared at the base in confusion.

“Somethings not right. We should’ve heard about this one when we took out the others.” Nat said sharing a concerned look with Bucky.

“We shouldn’t go any further until we get the others” Nat said as she started to pack up.

“We need to figure out what the deal is here” Bucky started “we can’t leave yet.”

“Bucky, there are 250 of them and 2 of us. I know we’re a little above average but thats a bit overkill. No pun intended.”

Bucky smirked at her attempt at humour but there was no way he was leaving just yet. He felt something was off and he wanted to know what. “I’ll do a quick look around. In and out. No contact”

“Bucky, no. Dont be stupid. I get it, but lets not do something we’ll regret. I’m calling this in, i’ll let them know were heading back.”

Bucky sits silently for a second and notices she’s looking for his agreement. He nods.

As Nat trails back to get a signal Bucky turns back to look at the base. “What are you up to...” he says to himself as he looks around. Thats when he sees it. The ever so familiar blue liquid. Fuck he thinks to himself. Theyre trying again...more super soldiers...more....me. His mind flashes back to his hydra days and all the stuff they made him do. This can’t happen.

Against all better judgement he looks back at Nat who is still facing away and starts to descend down the rocks towards the base. He just needs to get the suitcase filled with the serum and get out.

Reaching the outer gates he looks around to make his plan. Thats when all hell brakes loose. A guard patrolling the fence line spots him and starts to yell. Bucky runs over to take him out before anyone notices but it’s too late. Next thing he knows hes taking on an army of hydra agents, shots flying. Nat hears the commotion and turns around. “I don’t believe this.” She says into her comms. She’s about to start the descent when she realizes its too late. Bucky’s down. They’ve got him. This just became a rescue mission.

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

Bucky slowly comes to and tries to rub his face but soon realizes he is restrained. Taking in his surroundings he tries not to let panic set in as he looks around the room of the hydra base. Everyone is silently staring at him now that he’s awake. One of the men mutters something to a nurse and she leaves the room. The door bursts open a minute later and in comes a tall thin man with a lab coat. “Hello Mr Barnes. This is a pleasant surprise.” Bucky says nothing but gives the man a blank stare. “I see, the strong but silent type. Well your timing is opportune for us Mr Barnes. you see, we are finally creating our own little army of, well, you to be blunt, and I think you can give me the answers to the questions that remain.” Bucky stays silent not letting his panic show. The doctor doesn’t say much more telling the nurses to start the work up. They start collecting blood samples.

Bucky knows he doesn’t have long before this gets real bad so he starts to form his escape plan in his head. The restraints do not feel like they will be too difficult to break out of, its the building he is unsure of, having been unconscious when they brought him in. I guess we’re gonna wing it he thinks to himself.

Once the nurses clear and all the guards leave except the two at the door, Bucky knows its time. He breaks out of the restraints easily, as he suspected. He knocks on the door and the two guards turn around, eyes widening with realization. They start yelling as he bursts through the door knocking them both out.

As he makes his way through the building things are getting worse and worse. Thats when he sees the doctor, face not of fear, but perhaps interest? Bucky keeps making his way out when he sees a guy blocking the door. He takes a good look at him and he realizes. Shit. This is no regular soldier.

He starts swinging and while he is holding his own, he is still taking quite the beating. I just have to get out he thinks. The soldier now has a rifle. great. Using his arm to deflect the shots he runs full force to take him down but takes a hit in his side. Bucky grunts as the shot stings but the soldier pulls out a knife and Bucky rolls in a near miss.

Ducking and dodging Bucky reminds himself he’s not here to fight, he just needs to get out. He turns and makes a run for it, and is almost home free when he feels a sharp pain in his shoulder and is knocked down. He turns his head to see the knife sticking out of his back. Pulling it out slowly Bucky cringes at the pain but the soldier is already walking back to him.

A knife fight ensues as Bucky desperately tries to stave him off. A realization comes to Bucky. I gotta take the hit to leave. Bucky slows his movements and he feels the knife go straight into his chest. Screaming in pain bucky pulls out the knife almost regretting that, but now, with both knives in his hand he is able to make a run for it throwing the final two knives hitting the soldier twice as he makes his escape.

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

Bucky is out of breath and losing feeling as his body tries to recover from the two stab wounds and the shot. He needs to find a safe place to get the bullet out.

After wandering for a few miles Bucky smells smoke. That’s when he sees it. A house...out here? He checks the perimeter for any signs of hyrda or that someone is living there. There is a car in the driveway but no signs point to hydra. He takes the risk and starts to bang on the door.

What the fuck? You think to yourself as you slowly wake up to a loud noise. Fear sets in when you realize someone is banging on your door. You sit in bed waiting for a few minutes hoping they will go away. When the knocking doesn’t subside you decide to go down and check out who it is. God this is stupid, you’ve seen horror movies y/n!!

You look through the doors peephole and thats when you see him. Its dark out so you can’t make out much but you can tell he is handsome. Really y/n? A stranger is knocking on your door in the middle of nowhere at 2 am and you think ‘ooh he’s handsome’?! You mentally scold yourself. Thats when you notice he is clutching his chest.

“Please. I know you’re there. I can hear you. I just need some help and I will leave. I mean you no harm” please for the love of god let me in Bucky thinks to himself.

You are terrified but he looks really hurt. This is a bad idea...you think to yourself but unlock the door anyway.

Bucky perks up at the noise and the door opens slowly. Buckys eyes look up to you and he stares for a second. “Can I come in, please?” He says softly.

“Oh yes sorry!” You say as you let him in, adrenaline rushing. He walks inside slowly looking around before heading to the kitchen. You go to turn on the lights and flick them on before he has time to yell “Dont!” But its too late. You gasp as you take in his injuries and blood soaked clothes.

You look up to his face. “Please, turn them off” he says firmly but quietly. You do as he says. He has the most beautiful blue eyes you think before being kicked back to reality.

“Are you- are you o-okay?” You ask voice shaky. He stays silent. “Well you’re obviously not okay...but do you need...how can I help you? Should I call the police? You should really-“

“Im fine, no need to call anyone” he says cutting you off. “Do you have a towel or something?” You sit there frozen for a few seconds before you spring into action. You disappear upstairs for a few minutes. Bucky takes a deep breath after you leave trying to reorganize his thoughts. The moment he saw your face he forgot, even just for a moment, why he was there in the first place. You had such a calming presence even though you were clearly panicked. You came back arms full with anything you thought could be remotely useful. First aid kit, towels, and a sewing kit you didn’t know you had until now among other things. As you head back to the kitchen you almost drop everything as the man stands shirtless in front of you. You regain composure placing everything on the counter pretending not to see the man smirk.

“I’m going to need you to take the bullet out.” He deadpans. “What?!” You choke out almost laughing at the thought. “I can’t reach it with my other injuries....” he trails off seeing the panicked look on your face “you know what don’t worry about it I think I can manage” A wave of relief floods over you at his words but as he goes to sit you see him wince and you know he was lying for your benefit. Be strong y/n you can do this, you are a strong independent woman “ I can do it. I can take it out. You’re clearly not okay.” Bucky is about to protest but stops when he feels another wave of pain. He nods at you and sterilizes the tweezers before handing them to you. You grab them reluctantly but give him a small smile. He doesn’t know why but that small action gives him enough comfort he thinks he might just be ok. “Okay here goes nothing” you say as he exhale deeply and stick the tweezers in. Bucky grips the counter top and groans. “Im so sorry!” You quickly retreat from your real life game of operation. “No I’m fine keep going” he says and gives you a reassuring smile. “So..” you try to think of some conversation to keep his mind elsewhere. “Do you like cats?” Oh my god bitch are you for real, you are gonna die alone. You clear your throat awkwardly, too late to back out of this conversation. He cracks a smile at your clear embarrassment but answers your question. “Um Ive never had one but I dont mind them I guess. More of a dog person I think” she nods. “Are you...a cat person?” Yikes this is awkward Bucky thinks to himself. But he kind of likes awkward with you. “ Im in animal person in general. Love them all.” You say half focused on the conversation half focused on his side. You try not to let your eyes wander to his abs...and that chest.. ugh is this a man or a god and thats when you realized you had stopped moving and he was staring at you....staring at him. Your eyes quickly dart away and your face heats up at being so blatantly caught enjoying the view. He chuckles and you quickly change the subject. “So care to explain any of this or are you just going to bleed all over my kitchen?” You say almost defensively trying to hide your embarrassment. Bucky stiffens a little. “Are you going to find the bullet or just stare at me all night?” He says half joking, avoiding the question. “I think” you say before grabbing onto the bullet finally and pulling it out quickly. Bucky winces. “that you are avoiding the question” you finish. “You know me so well already!” He states pouring some alcohol over the wound, wincing again. “Here. Stay still.” You say ready to stitch it up. “You’ve really accepted the nurse role” he says smirking “I appreciate it.” He finished more seriously. You smile back. God he loved that smile. Get yourself together barnes, it’s just a pretty girl. “Wait you’re not actually a nurse are you?” He asks suspiciously.You laugh at the accusation. “No. I’m nothing.” Wow way to spill all you life problems in one depressing sentence y/n!! Ughhh why can’t I talk to men. Well when they look this good...”What do you mean?” He asks ignoring the pain of your amateur stitches. Definitely not a nurse...“I just meant I haven’t decided what I am going to do, or be yet...thats all” you give him a weak smile and he nods in understanding. “You want me to do the others?” You point to his stab wounds. casual. “Uh sure, if you dont mind. Thanks” You nod again and begin working. You sit in silence for a bit before something occurs to Bucky. He didn’t kill that solider...they’ll be looking for him...and he may have led them right here to you. You feel Bucky tense and he begins to look around. “Whats wrong?” You ask suddenly nervous again. Wait when did you stop being nervous? “Nothing” he said quickly. “Well sit still im almost done” you say and he nods. You finish the last stitch and sit up.

“There all done! I cannot believe I just did that” You begin to smile but it quickly fades as Bucky immediately stands up and puts his shirt back on. A confused look grows on your face which quickly turns to fear as Bucky starts pulling out your kitchen knives and shoving them in his belt. He grabs your hand and starts to drag you upstairs “come with me”. You follow.

Once upstairs he looks around before opening the closet door. “Uhhh what are you doing” you say ignoring the feeling you get when he grabs your hips and moves you into the closet. “They must have followed me. Stay in here and don’t make a noise. Dont leave until I come get you.” You stare at him waiting for your brain to catch up. “Do you understand? Not a word.” You nod slowly. “You will be okay. I won’t let anyone hurt you I promise.” He turns to leave then pauses. “Im Bucky by the way.” “Y/n” you reply weakly. With that he smiles then closes the door and you hear his footsteps walk back downstairs. You sit in silence the only noise being your heavy breaths for a few minutes before you hear glass smash. Bucky takes in his surroundings, five agents, all heavily armed but no super solider. That can’t be good. He takes them down one by one with ease mentally apologizing for everything he’s breaking in your home. Once the last agent is down he steps outside and listens for more. He can hear them every so slightly which means they can’t be more than a mile away. He needs to get you out of there, you’re sitting ducks.

He runs back inside and grabs your car keys before heading upstairs to retrieve you. He swings open the closet door and you let out a scream and start kicking. “Hey hey its me!” You look up and realize your safe. “Sorry...wh-what happened?” “We need to leave. I got your keys, leave everything here, stay behind me” You get up slowly and nod sticking closely behind him. He walks slowly and quietly down the stairs then pauses. Oh fu- Buckys thoughts get cut off as he ducks to avoid the super soldiers hand swinging at his head. Ho. Ly. Shit. You think watching Bucky expertly fight what looks like a man but appears to have the strength of an elephant. You hide behind a wall peering around to watch when it hits you. Super strong men...bullets...bucky...im in an airbnb with the winter soldier. The realization hits you like a truck and you turn around stunned. You catch your breath and begin to watch again. Fear settles in all over when you see the soldier choking the life out of Bucky. Without thinking you grab a knife from the floor run over and stab him in the back. The soldier loosens his grip just enough for Bucky to break free and snaps the guys neck before he has a chance to grab you. “Thanks...” he huffs out holding his neck “we have to move” He grabs your arm and takes you out to the car. You both get inside and Bucky just starts driving.

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

The drive is mostly silence as you try and process what is happening and Bucky tries to figure out what to say. “You don’t have a phone on you do you?” He asks. “No..uh you told me not to grab anything” “Right” More silence. I have to say something Bucky decides. “I’m sorry for dragging you into this. I wasn’t thinking straight and I-“ “You’re the winter soldier aren’t you?” You cut him off. Oh god. Bucky thought this couldn’t get worse, she called me the winter soldier, shes afraid. “I am- or was” He doesn’t know how else to say it without going off. You sit there for a minute in silence. “Ok” is all you say. Bucky looks at you in surprise. “Ok?” “Yeah, ok” you repeat. With that you shift in your seat and nod off. Ok...Bucky repeats this over and over in his head as he drives back to the compound.

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

“So..they’re going to be angry with me...just as a heads up.” Bucky says to you as you arrive at the compound. “What? Aren’t you the one who is injured and missing?” “Well, yes, but it’s my fault. I was reckless and I put everyone in danger. Including you. Im sorry.” Bucky suddenly felt even more guilty in remembering that you were now dragged into this too. “It’s okay, honestly, I’m just glad your okay” you said with a smile. It was true. Yes, you were scared shitless at the time but you’re not going to pretend you weren’t psyched to have met Bucky and soon the avengers! Plus..you were going stir crazy in that cabin... oh the cabin...there goes my deposit. Bucky smiled back and got out of the car. You followed him all the way through the front doors to the elevator and down the hall admiring the building around you. This is a Stark building all right...

Bucky slowed and you could hear the avengers in on the other side of the door discussing. He steps inside and stops. “Hey guys” they all whip their heads around to stare at Bucky. Smooth. “ARE YOU KIDDING ME? YOU IDIOT!” You hear a female voice. They all proceed to start yelling at him over one another. “Guys....guys...GUYS” Bucky yells finally prompting them to stop. He steps aside and you figure thats your cue so you enter the room. “Hello” you say awkwardly waving to everyone. They all stare at you then back at him. “Who is this?” Tony friggen stark asks Bucky. “When I escaped i was injured and I came across her house. She stitched me up but they followed me so we took her car and well... here we are!” “Buck, we went in to get you and you weren’t there. What happened?” Oh my goddddd captain america!!!! Neutral face y/n, neutral face, be cool. “I broke out about 30 minutes after I was...taken in... but they had a super soldier of their own. Barely got out of there with a bullet hole and two stab wounds.” Bucky says nonchalantly. Your eyes widen at the implications of his story. For some reason your brain forgot something happened before he showed up at your door. Dude was shot and stabbed twice! What the fuck! “And you coincidentally live up in a cabin in the woods alone near a hydra base?” Tony says to you receiving a glare from Bucky. “Wha- hydra base?- no, I rented that cabin, its an airbnb, I was just staying there for a few months” you say, looking around for confirmation that they believe you. They look at each other skeptically. “She stabbed the super soldier to save me- do I really have to say this?” Bucky tries to defend you. “Hey, look, I should just go home, I don’t mean to cause any trouble” you say suddenly feeling how tired you were. “I’m sorry, but they might have seen you, I can’t let you go home until this is cleared up.” Bucky says sympathetically. Your eyes widen at this statement. You look around at the other faces and your fears are confirmed. “He’s right. We need to figure out what their plan is...and no offence..but who you are.” Steve says earning another glare from bucky. You think about this for a moment. I guess I would be skeptical too... plus staying here wouldn’t be so bad...“Alright. Fair enough.” You say shrugging. Buckys face looks surprised but then relieved. In fact they all look relieved.“Well all right sergeant, show the lady to her room” Tony says grinning at Bucky. With that you follow Bucky through the building.

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

When you and Bucky finally reach your new room you can tell he wants to say something. “Im so so-“ “thanks f-“ You both speak at the same time. “You first” you say, giggling.Buckys heart clenches at the sound. ”Look, im just really sorry about all of this, I don’t know how to make it up to you.” You can see the guilt on his face. You want to wipe it away with your hands..mouth... god y/n, you sad little daydreamer. “Really truly, its okay. If it were to be anyone I’m glad its me, I was literally in the middle of doing nothing” you say laughing. “But I know how you can make it up to me” you say smiling. “How, anything” he says, face lighting up, not letting his mind go to the places her statement suggested. My first choice would be to for you to push me up against this door and make out with me buuuut... “give me a tour of this place tomorrow?” You say, the confidence of your subconscious not quite reaching your mouth. “Deal” he says nodding. His eyes linger over you for too long before he notices you stifling a yawn. “Sorry, youve had a long night, I’ll let you sleep. See you tomorrow.” “Tomorrow” you say smiling as he leaves the room. Left alone in this strange place, your thoughts swirl on only one thing, or should you say only one man.

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

To be continued?

Comments appreciated :)

[monstersinthecosmos]

Kinktober Day 15: Uniforms

Voltron | Keith x Shiro

omg anon, U RITE. Bless. Anyway wow I’m really bad at drabbles, I know I say that all the time and I had hoped Kinktober would be an opportunity to practice not talking so fuckin much so. Idk i mean this went over 1000 words and I FORCED MYSELF TO STOP cause I could feel in my bones that I was about to turn this into 10k of porn again. But I’m full of ideas so maybe this will be revisited at a later date and made full length. WE SHALL SEE. 

Anyway I severely overestimated my mental health when I decided to take a shot at Kinktober so no promises that I’ll fuckin EVEN WRITE TOMORROW’S but tomorrow is Lactation | Roleplay | Smiles/Laughter | Toys and as usual feel free to send me requests! I had to skip a lot of days due to LMAO DEPRESSION HAHA but I have a lot of great prompts in my inbox that I’d love to return to one day when I have the energy, so I’m super sorry if I’ve skipped yours! I’ll get to it one day probably!

There’s a lot to think about during the journey. It’s more than just staving off the boredom, the sensory deprivation. His mind really is alive.

Like, he’s never really considered himself homesick. Earth hadn’t felt like home in a long time anyway. But now that they’re returning it’s the little things he realizes he misses. He can’t wait to have a huge soda and ziti pizza. He wants to see a desert sunset. Maybe it will rain while they’re there.

He can’t wait to have a change of clothes. He wonders if his worldly possessions even exist somewhere anymore. But a hoodie? A different pair of jeans. New gloves. He finds himself daydreaming about it.

But he keeps thinking about Shiro, too. He pictures Shiro in a bespoke suit, with a fancy watch. In a douchey muscle shirt. Or maybe in distressed jeans, maybe with a big belt buckle, maybe with a t-shirt that’s just a little too tight, the sleeve crying for forgiveness around his bicep. Maybe he’ll wear sunglasses.

Sometimes it’s distracting to think about, and he makes himself stop. He buries it to function and doesn’t say anything to Shiro. They travel, they focus. And the Earth waiting for them is a fucking mess.

So there’s no pizza and no time to indulge in his stupid CMNM fetish and he’s too stressed to even remember it anyway. They don’t have time to get elaborate. The few times they do fuck it’s desperate and messy, unplanned. The sort of fuck they usually both need after near-death. The holy-fuck-you-almost-died kinda way they get, and maybe if they weren’t such maimed people they’d make it more romantic. But it’s not just about love. It’s about anger. They want this war over and they’re so frenzied and full of spite.

Time passes, though. Things settle. They each almost fucking die again and take time to recover. And it’s quiet, for once. It rains. Shiro sneaks them Jack & Cokes from The Outside and they can pretend to be normal for a bit.

No clothes, though. It’s disappointing and he wasn’t sure what he expected. The Garrison costume puts him on edge, reminds him of being a kid. It seems like such a long time ago, another life.

Shiro, though.

It irritates him at first. At least, that’s what he tells himself. He knew the trip to Earth wasn’t a vacation but being thrown back into rigid Garrison bullshit seems insulting after everything they’ve been through. They’ve been traveling outer space, they’ve been saving the fucking universe, and they get back and have a dress code? Shiro laughs at him when he complains about it and Keith wants to be mad.

But even though he’s been banking on the hot boyfriend fashion show, something about Shiro in uniform shuts him up real fast. At first he isn’t sure what his deal is, but as they settle into a routine and spend more time there, little memories keep coming back. It looked different back then—rooms have been remodeled, offices repurposed. Some of the hallways have been painted a different color. But he remembers being here. With Shiro.

He hasn’t admitted it to Shiro yet but something about him in his officer’s jacket lights up a primal part of Keith’s brain. Maybe he hasn’t admitted it to himself, either, but he’s realizing that this outfit is sort of his blueprint for the type of man he likes. It’s formative, written deep, so that it tingles in his head to see Shiro like this again. It’s validating.

Well, “type of man” is sort of a lie. He thinks his sexuality has always been sort of dictated by Shiro. Shiro was the first guy he ever liked. He used to watch him and Adam together and he was so curious about them. He’s never told Shiro that his Garrison jacket made frequent appearances in his mind during all the confused horny teen nights, or even in the pining serious adult nights. It’s sort of a constant.

So he wants to tease and he wants to complain, but, fuck. Shiro looks good. The uniform makes him look bigger. Or maybe it makes Keith feel smaller? It exudes authority in a way that makes him feel young and uncomfortable, out of place. Garrison bullshit.

It’s making him itchy and warm the night Shiro puts the captain's pins on his shoulder straps. Keith is on the floor, deep in a stretch, and Shiro is sitting on the edge of the bed. He’s got  the jacket in his lap, only wearing an undershirt on top. It’s tight over his chest. Keith can see the ridges of his muscles through the fabric, his nipples, the raised lines of scars. There’s a tiny wrinkle of concentration in his brow as his prosthetic hand pinches the tiny clasps; he must still be adjusting to his new dexterity. He hasn’t complained about it, though.

“Captain, huh?” Keith asks. He twists his hips until his spine cracks and pretends he’s disinterested. Shiro just gives a half chuckle under his breath, but Keith sees the way he blushes. His fingers click over the pins.

Finally he gives it a once over and slips the jacket on, buttons it, tucks the edges of the right sleeve into his shoulder appliance. He stands and smooths it down over his hips. There’s a moment of silence as he waits for a reaction.

“You look like such a dick,” Keith says.

“Wow,” Shiro says, but he’s laughing. He turns to check himself in the mirror, fusses with the epaulets and runs a hand through his hair. “I see you’re as respectful to your superiors as you’ve always been.”

Shit. Captain. Jesus Christ.

Some adolescent rebellious trigger is being pulled on the inside; Keith maybe matured out in space, he maybe has a better control on his impulses now, but he hated this shit as a kid and it still makes him bristle. And it’s hard to reconcile how irritated the whole institution makes him feel with the absolutely devastating set to Shiro’s posture. He looks so powerful.

When Shiro turns back around to face him he feels his insides turn to jelly. His face is dark, he’s got That Look, and Keith thinks he’s about to get ruined.

“Come here,” he says. It’s his officer voice, smooth and confident, commanding. Keith’s throat is going dry as he moves to stand, but Shiro lifts a hand to gesture for him to stop. “No, Cadet. Stay on your knees.”

Well, this is new. Keith’s face heats as he crawls across the floor. He lets his head hang and isn’t sure if it’s an act or if he’s hiding his blush, and he watches his hands move across the linoleum. He sees Shiro’s shiny black boots first, feet apart in a power stance. He settles back and sits up, gaze continuing to see where Shiro’s pant legs are tucked in. It’s all perfectly in place, unwrinkled. And he’s been ragging on him about the whole thing, but suddenly Keith feels unkempt and shy.

“Shiro,” he begins to say as he looks up, but the way he looms over makes the words fall away.

“Did you want to say that again?” The voice is gentle, condescending, and it burns up to Keith’s ears.

He swallows hard but doesn’t know the answer. Shiro’s large new hand comes down on the top of Keith’s head, petting.

“Tell me,” he says. “How do I look?”

“Good.” He can barely hear himself.

“Are you sure?”

“Really good.”

It’s odd the way Shiro is learning to maneuver his new arm, a strange sensation that he’s able to skate his fingers down Keith’s back until he’s curling into the waistband of his pants. Keith shudders at the thought that Shiro is getting ready to destroy him.

“It suits you,” he adds. He chews his bottom lip. I’m so proud of you, he wants to say, but he isn’t ready.

Even standing above him, he’s able to smack Keith on the ass with his new hand. Keith jolts forward.

“It’s suits me, what?”

Fuck. “It suits you, sir.”

Shiro cocks an eyebrow.

“Captain,” Keith amends. He’s sweating. “It suits you, Captain.”

Goddamnit.

[onenightandgone]

How to Find Lost Things (One)

Genre: Angst, contains mature content Pairing: Hoseok x Reader Length: 4.5k Summary:  Being with him was the stuff dreams are made of. But those weren’t your dreams.

He was far away again, but then again, he was most of the time. Even when Hoseok was right next to you, you felt distant, unplugged. He would hold you closely, you would feel the warmth of his body encasing yours, the occasional brush of his fingertips on your face or down the outer ridge of your arms if he woke up before the sun. Hoseok would sigh softly, the puff of air rustling in your hair.

But none of it mattered.

Your body would respond, your cheeks flushing if he pressed you for more affection, the moans coming one after another if he made love. Hoseok was careful, studious, tender. But to you it was a million miles away.

You curled on your side out of habit. You should have been enjoying the luxury of a wide open bed, the sheets that normally covered the mountain of him were flat and empty. However, everything that you did was done more out of habit than out of desire or want. It was your ritual, how things were done. It was comfortable. Hoseok was comfortable.

You could leave it all and maybe find actual happiness. You could run. The thought of the shadowy, dark unknown was what kept you in your place, kept you curled on your side of the bed you shared with him.

You stared out the tall windows at the stars that you could make out from where you rested your head on your pillow. They were pretty, glistening against the dark sky; you should have been enchanted. You should have wished that he were here to see this with you, to fall asleep with his face in your neck as he shaped himself around you, molded himself to your form. But there was nothing. You blinked and yawned, waiting for the time to pass.

Not just the night. You weren’t just waiting for the morning to come or for the sun to lift the darkness. You wanted all of it to pass, the whole thing to be over, for the dull ache that lingered under your surface to cease. Maybe then you could finally sleep, you could rest at last.

Your eyes flickered under the weight of the physical sleep your body required, blinking rapidly until at last you gave in and succumbed to a blissful, temporary unconsciousness.

It would do for now. Until worse came to worse.

You had expected the sun to wake you up, gentle rays pouring through the window uninvited. Your next surprise came when a heavy form slid underneath the covers behind you, matching touches on your back the only warning that long warm arms would snake over your side and pull you backwards.

Hoseok kissed your cheek slowly, lingering in your scent, brushing his nose across your skin.

You waited with closed eyes, not acknowledging the gesture, until he sighed and finally gave up, settling behind you, tucking you safely into the valley he created with his body. Hoseok cradled you and buried himself in your hair. His bare torso warmed you wonderfully, staving off any chills from the open window.

Hoseok fell asleep in a matter of minutes, but not before wiggling his hand in between the knot you had created with both of yours. He unclasped your tight hold on the blanket and slid your smaller fingers between his large ones. He squeezed firmly, only loosening when he dozed off.

‘I love you…’ Hoseok murmured quietly, his voice trailing off into the early morning haze.

You should have whispered it back, or at least felt your heart flutter against your skeleton, but you didn’t. There was no excitement, no rush of nerves as you responded to his daily confession. There was only the heavy emptiness that held you down, that muted your heart and kept it in its place.

Soon after, the sun came up to find Hoseok still wrapped around you, his hand holding yours tightly at your chest. Someone smarter, better at acting, someone who loved Hoseok like he should be loved - they would have stayed put in the cocoon of his arms, in the heat that felt like it came from someplace deeper than his body. But you weren’t them, and maybe you never could be that person.

You pulled yourself from the center of his chest, dropping his hand on the bed as you sat up. You took a moment to yawn and gain your bearings.

Hoseok let out a small, sleepy whine. He reached for you blindly, finding your thigh and then the rest of you. He pulled himself closer, balling around you, his arms around your middle, his head in your lap.

‘Come back to sleep,’ he muttered against the cotton of the blankets that twisted around the both of you.

You didn’t.

‘Why are you back early?’ you said. You looked down at him curiously.

He sighed, his eyes still closed.

‘Finished early… wanted to see you…’

Hoseok let the exhaustion take him again, settling down with his nose pressed into your stomach. In spite of the sleep he was getting now, there were dark circles under his eyes, crescents telling the tale of the fatigue he had endured.

There was a small pang in your chest as you studied him, but you weren’t sure exactly what it was. Could it be at least a form of affection? You ran your fingers over his scalp, skating through the waves of his hair dutifully.

Hoseok sighed and tightened the arm around your back in response.

You should have felt a flutter in your heart at the trust he had in you. You shook your head and decided the spark was more guilt than anything, your conscience pointing you to how you should be responding to Hoseok, to what he expected.

Hoseok had never been anything less than kind to you. From the moment he met you, he had taken responsibility for you, for your wellbeing. He was head over heels in an instant, a status that changed with time to complete devotion. He was steadiness and certainty. Hoseok’s frame contained all the love one person could ever want, and it was all for you.

You weren’t sure what motive had made you go along with the notion of first going out with Hoseok. He was clever and charming, and the laughter he drew from you was genuine. He was funny and warm, and there was something like a safety net about him - if you stayed with him, you would be secure and not alone. Over time, the relationship had become your security blanket, your shield from all the dangers the world had to offer. Even if you didn’t reciprocate his feelings, as long as you were with him, nothing could go wrong.

And so you combed through his hair, leading you slowly down the back of his neck, tracing lines into his skin. Hoseok melted at your touch, condensing into you as close as he could get. A gentle smile landed on his face, his lips slightly parted with the hold sleep had on him.

You wanted to get up, to shower and go for your morning walk, but Hoseok wanted you more. So you stayed, blankly cradling his head on your lap as he slept peacefully, because this was better than nothing, better than being alone.

It felt like an eternity passed, sitting there holding him. Your crossed legs ached from being under Hoseok’s weight for so long without moving. You adjusted yourself several times, holding his head in your arms while you found a more comfortable position. Each time you laid him back down, Hoseok would let out a soft puff of a sigh, adjusting himself as well, scooting himself closer if you had accidentally put distance between you and burying himself in your shirt. He would renew the tight hold he had around your waist and let himself drift off again.

You thought carefully and dipped low to lay a kiss on his temple. You felt what could have been a smile curve up against your abdomen, but you ignored it and returned to playing in his hair absently.

‘Again,’ Hoseok pleaded quietly, his eyes still closed as he wavered on the edge of consciousness. He tapped your hip insistently. ‘Please?’ He added a small while to his voice, just in case the simple request wasn’t enough to move you.

You waited a moment, pretending to consider it, before you repeated the motion, this time letting your lips linger on the tiny soft hairs that marked the beginning of his hairline. You knew Hoseok would love it, so you did it.

He hummed appreciatively.

You weren’t often affectionate with Hoseok, and he was painfully aware of it. His sweet nature made him the clingy sort. If he was near you at all, he had to be touching you, physically connected in some way even if it was just holding your hand or pressing his thigh against yours if he was sitting next to you.

But you, you couldn’t return that, you couldn’t match his level of intensity. He understood, but still Hoseok was always eager for any time you might put your hands on his body, or even brush your fingertips over his skin.  He never pushed you beyond your comfort level or asked more of you than what you could give, but the desire in his eyes still made itself evident every time his gaze met yours.

Your lips still grazing against his temple was more than he than he had asked for. A soft snuffle sent your breath ruffling through his already tangled locks, and Hoseok brimmed with delight.

His hand slid up the center of your back slowly, using his other arm to push himself upwards. He briefly nestled against your throat, kissing with featherlight contact before working up to your face. Hoseok smiled at you brightly, and even with his hair sticking up at awkward angles, he was charming. You should have melted in the spot, and you did your best to return a gentler version of his expression.

Hoseok gazed at you stupidly, blinking slowly in the morning sunlight that highlighted his bare upper half. He paused for a moment before reaching for you with need. You allowed it, leaning into the large palm that cupped your cheek. His thumb rubbed a soft crescent into your skin, and Hoseok’s breath caught audibly.

You closed your eyes on cue and let yourself go, let yourself rest in his touch. It wasn’t much, but Hoseok would like it.

You felt his breath on the space of your chest bared by the too-large shirt, and you knew he was close. His other hand found your waist, quickly slipping around to the small of your back. Suddenly, Hoseok’s nose bumped into yours unceremoniously, but he remained unbothered, caught up in you.

‘How?’ he whispered, his voice low and gravelly with the sleep he had fought off to focus on you. ‘How are you this beautiful all the time?’

You blushed at his ridiculousness, snorting with amusement. Hoseok didn’t budge.

‘No, seriously,’ he continued, purposefully grazing the tip of his nose against yours. ‘You’re always so gorgeous without trying. I’m so lucky I get to do this everyday.’

Without further comment, Hoseok came in for the kill, pressing his lips to yours eagerly. You brought your hands to his chest, amazed by the heat that flourished under your palms. His heart rate fluttered and rushed as he felt your touch. Hoseok pushed forward to encourage your exploration, guiding you deeper into the valley of his chest. He exhaled breathlessly into your mouth, your lips parting for him automatically. He swept inside, his tongue probing and exploring, conquering effortlessly. His pulse rushed under your hands, his heart beating almost too fast to be real. Hoseok dug his fingertips into the back of your neck to hold you captive to his kiss. To him you were his, even if he could never have your heart.

You returned his pressure as best as you could, letting his tongue take over yours, letting yourself be drenched in how he tasted, how he smelled. Everything was Hoseok, his arms, his mouth, his chest. You were almost swimming in his need before you could pull back for air.

Hoseok followed you, unable to bear having distance between you when all he wanted was to be close to you.

He eyed your mouth, his hands sweeping down your back, fingertips daring to slip into the waistband of your sweatpants. His chest heaved as he panted, desperate for air, but he didn’t care. He would give up breathing just to kiss you once more, if all it meant was that you knew he was yours.

Hoseok tilted his head and leaned in to blaze a gentle trail of sensation down your throat. You felt him smile softly as he reached your collarbone, stopping his kissing and floating just above your skin, breathing in deeply.

You raked your fingers through his hair as though you wanted him to continue, but Hoseok had another idea. His fingers came to wrap around your wrist, guiding your touch back to his chest.

For a moment, you let yourself marvel at his width. You remembered the skinny rail that he used to be when you had met him, the almost nothing Hoseok that could be blown away by a strong wind. The godlike sculpture of a man you had your hands on was a complete contradiction, a completely new being that opposed tiny Hoseok in every way but one - the smile that cracked onto his expression so easily in your presence. He never hesitated to be himself around you, to let his true personality be on display. Hoseok was loyalty and ease, faithfulness and joy, everything that you could ever ask for in a partner. You should care, you should have been exhilarated watching him perch on his knees on the bed in front of you.

Hoseok stared down the length of his body and then looked up at you. His bottom lip darted backwards between his teeth and he bit down hard, choking back a groan as you ran your hands up his thighs firmly.

You knew him, his signals, his programming. You knew what he wanted, and you hardly ever denied him. Hoseok was too good to you, he deserved more than bare minimum effort in return. So you tried.

Hoseok watched your face as you reached his upper thighs, your thumbs pressing into the insides. It didn’t feel mechanical to him. It felt good, you always felt good. It was why he kept coming back for more.

His arms fell to his sides lazily and he leaned back, letting you have your way. He spread himself open for you, a full display for you to touch and taste. But why weren’t you hungry?

You skirted over the waistband of his boxers, dipping your fingertips inside to tease him before moving on. Hoseok choked back a whine mid-note, his lip still firmly between his teeth. His gaze still held steady, unwavering. He would take whatever you were willing to give him.

The muscled surface of his abdomen, though, trembled as you traced its furrows and lines, feeling the tension shift and follow your touch. The devious side of you enjoyed this part, testing how far his resilience could go, but you didn’t push your luck very often. Hoseok was sweet to you more often than not, even in the throes of passion, and he deserved the same in return.

You made your choice easily, bending in half in front of him. You let your gaze connect with his on the way down until your nose was hovering near his belly button. You smiled up at him deviously, and Hoseok visibly fought off the instinct that screamed at him to touch you, his hand balled into a tight fist at his side. What he couldn’t stop was the low groan that left his throat as your lips pressed a light kiss on his pelvis.

‘You can touch me if you want,’ you said invitingly, before reconnecting more firmly, letting the tip of your tongue probe along a thick, protruding vein.

Hoseok didn’t hesitate, and soon he was all about finding parts of you that he could reach. You wrapped your arm around one of his thighs, doing your best to keep him still, but he was too excited, too eager to be all over you. His fingertips explored your back, managing at least to pull your shirt up and over your head. You could feel then, his damp palms flat against your skin, just exactly how much heat burned within him.

Hoseok was careful, but deliberate as his fingers tangled with strands of your hair.

‘B-babe,’ he choked out, clutching at your face.

You peered up at him up the vast landscape of his body. You let your breath puff out hot against his abdomen, but his skin was already flushed and damp on its own.

Hoseok pulled you upward firmly, his face gaunt with thirst. He was on edge, you could see it in the clench of his jaw, the tremble in his fingers as he reached for you.

You let him guide you, watching him discard the last of his clothing, the cotton heavy with sweat peeling from his thighs like another layer of skin.

The first time you had seen him naked, the first time Hoseok bared himself to you, you had acted out the appropriate reaction, gasping at how virilely his body had reacted to you. Hoseok had smiled, his cheeks turning pink with only a slight notion of shame.

‘Do you trust me?’ he had said, laying you back carefully. You never doubted the honesty in his intentions, the pure love in his heart as he moved within you, even as he did now.

Hoseok moved with grace, without pause, gazing down at you with nothing but adoration. He filled the air with the grunts of his efforts, his back arching and his shoulders almost rippling as his entire world shrunk to you and how you made him feel.

Your body responded to his, but of its own accord. You felt the waves of pleasure at your core, but they might as well have been happening to someone else, someone who deserved Hoseok’s attention far more than you did. Somewhere in that distal reality of the surface, someone who looked like you was making love to Hoseok, kissing his lips in a giant sloppy mess, biting his bottom lip, clenching around him as he drove down, chasing both of your highs. But that person was not you. Hoseok was inside you, but he could never know what was at your center. Was it nothing, a cold abyss, some defect in your heart that left you broken and love who you wanted to.

You weren’t sure what the right answer was. You hadn’t been able to figure it out for years. Maybe you were made of ice, unable to actually feel anything but what you lacked. Maybe you couldn’t summon the right emotion or make your heart race under his touch, but the one part of yourself that you were certain of was that you needed Hoseok. You had carefully built your walls around both of you, he was at the center of your empty shell. Hoseok kept you going, gave you warmth and life, and like the earth needs the sun, you continued to orbit around him, anchored to the gravity he lent you.

You were unsure of the face you were making as Hoseok continued to press and pull. The width of his hips made your thighs burn as you struggled to keep him centered between your legs. You bit your lip, swallowing the moan your body manufactured way too easily for your taste. Quickly, you tangled your hands behind Hoseok’s neck, digging in and pulling him down closer to you. His chest brushed yours as he moved, groaning as the angle proved more difficult. You needed this though, needed to hide, something you achieved by burying your face in the side of his throat. You let out a tiny moan to keep him from stopping, making him feel that you were close.

His spare hand gripped your hip with white knuckles adjusting you until you fit him perfectly, every motion now blazing white fire that threatened to burn everything down in its path. Hoseok tensed, his lips against your ear. He moaned deeply, letting all his barriers down and letting you in on everything that he felt. He made a sound with every movement, every time your fingertips slid into the curve of his back.

It wasn’t long before Hoseok collapsed, his weight almost forcing the oxygen from your lungs. He grunted under his breath as his hips jolted involuntarily, his high taking over. You shuddered around him and wrapped your arms around his back to steady yourself. You felt him start to come down, his muscles relaxing, but his heart still beating violently against your chest. He breathed heavily, trying to whisper sweet nothings, laying tired kisses down the ridge of your shoulder.

He spent a minute there, murmuring about how he loved you, how amazing he felt, before peeling away with regret.

The only thing you regretted was the sudden cold from the chilled sweat coating your skin. The goosebumps ran up stomach, your arms, and you shivered. It was impressive how much heat Hoseok actually provided and you distinctly felt the lack of it. You curled on your side to face him, as if somehow the proximity would make a difference. All you found was Hoseok smiling at you softly, leaning in close to kiss you with tired lips. You let him, responding with a tender pressure that belied your lack of interest, how distant you felt.

Hoseok wrapped his limbs around you one by one, his thigh over your hip, his arm under your back, one hand free to trace your cheekbone, to caress your face with slow fingertips.

You lay in his arms, his body flush against yours, your arm around his back so you didn’t discourage his attentions. You waited, your breathing evening out even as Hoseok tucked your head against his chest and settled with the tip of his nose in your hair. Slowly, the thumb stroking half-moons on the back of your neck stopped moving as he fell back asleep, spent and exhausted from the attentions he doted on you so diligently.

You closed your eyes, appropriately feigning sleep yourself, waiting. You couldn’t stay here, and you knew that if you did, it would mean another whole day spent in the same fashion - Hoseok waking up, kissing you, arousing himself until he couldn’t refrain the pull of his hormones any longer. Your body ached just thinking of the possibility.

You had let it happen before, any time you felt guilty enough from ignoring him or not paying him enough attention for his liking. The day after passed in just as much misery, chiding yourself for being too indulgent, your muscles complaining loudly of what you had put them through just to give Hoseok pleasure, to satiate him. Days like that were above and beyond what anyone could ask of you, but maybe if you loved him like he deserved, you would want to stay in bed with him all day. Maybe it would be a privilege you would want to take advantage of, laying in his arms for seemingly endless hours.

But to you, the few minutes you had already spent with Hoseok tangled around you grew wearisome. His leg on your hip pressed down heavily with his dead weight, his abdomen rising and skating his skin over yours everytime he inhaled. His arm under your side dug against your ribs uncomfortably, making it hard to breathe properly. The smell of the drying sweat coating his chest filled your nostrils. Hoseok was handsome, sculpted by the gods themselves, and more than you deserved, you knew that. But staying like this for hours wasn’t on your list for today.

You felt the guilt rot in your core as you gently lifted his leg from on top of you, folding the arms that encased you against his chest as you carefully freed yourself. Hoseok stirred only slightly, the exhaustion doubled in its effects keeping him from waking.

You leaned down, careful to perform your duty, and kissed his cheek lightly. You attentively pulled the covers up over his bare skin, tucking it around his form to keep him warm. You sighed and stepped away, gathering the things you needed to take a shower. You were on the threshold of the bathroom door when Hoseok’s voice suddenly made you pause.

‘Babe?’ His eyes stayed closed, half-muffled by the pillow he rested on. His hand searched for you blindly, but on not finding you, grabbed a fistful of the blankets and pulled them up the center of his chest. ‘God,’ Hoseok sighed. ‘I love you so much. I hope...I hope you can see that.’ He nestled back down into the pillow.

The shame choked the words in your throat, your face reddening with their unexpected power. You were embarrassed of yourself, as you should be, sick with the guilt of how you should feel. He was perfect, an entire complement to your true self. Even in his state of sleep, Hoseok only wanted you, your love in return, but you searched deep inside and found only emptiness. But you looked at him now, knowing that you had nothing that you could give him in return. But yet, you still swallowed hard and forced the words from your mouth, adding the sweet note at the end that you knew he loved.

‘I love you too, baby.’

A smile made of pure honey immediately formed on Hoseok’s face, and he curled the blankets into his center even more tightly.

You took a deep, steadying breath. That should have been you there, he needed you there, letting him hold you, feeling your own arms do their best to wrap around him, but you couldn’t force yourself back. You still felt the sick dampness between your thighs, smelled his raw, unwashed scent coating your body in a thick veneer of testosterone. You stepped away, turning your back on him to scrub off what you could of him in the shower.

You let the hot water cascade down you, trying to return to a normal state of mind. The suds broke up the sweat and stickiness, but it could not chase away the ghost of his white knuckled hands grabbing desperately at you for purchase, the echo of sounds made in secret for your ears only. You were haunted by the image of what you should be to him, of what you could be if you could make yourself feel. You pictured his smile again, curving angelically on his lips, but your heart beat steadily onward without a flutter, your almost comatose pulse ignoring what you needed it to be. There was still nothing, no matter how much you tried to make it otherwise.

What was wrong with you?