#probably would have looked better in full color but i was too lazy to break out the colored pencils

[cosmiado]

is this anything

[p3ndeja6]

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･

stray kids x reader

bangchan! and hyunjin! edition (separate)

Content Tags: smut! cheating! toxicity! piv! riding! slight mommy usage! dom bangchan! sub hyunjin! creampie! squirting! jealous reader and jealous chan and jin! non established relationship! fwb type shit!

word count: 2.5k

NOT PROOF-READ (just lazy)

a/n: this is probably ooc since im not educated on skz fandom so please don't execute me for any inaccuracy. Also creating this bc we saw them at lollapalooza and started brainstorming after leaving the festival LMAO (they were all so fine)

Inspired by: (my favorite) song B.A.S by Megan Thee Stallion..

☆ dedicated to my best friend @lilmeowneow ☆

Bangchan

Ever since you’ve been sleeping around with chan and found out that you werent the only one who also has been fucking him; you wanted to be sad about it but you knew better… way better. So if he can sleep around with other girls, you can too and sleep with the other guys in your DMs. They were all great really, made sure to let them who really was in charge, but deep down you loved the way chan fucked you senseless everytime. He was the only one you would obey to when he told you to turn around and take it. The way he would make you feel, it  was like no other guy has made you feel before, the way he would be gripping your thighs as he pounded into you tight, wet, cunt.

But you had to keep the charade going.

One night you were in your apartment waiting for a guy that slide into your DMs for a quick fuck, he was cute and tall, might as well. You were getting ready and preparing the drinks into your room when you got a phone call, you looked at the caller ID and it was no other than chan, you chuckled debating to answer. But the guy was about to arrive soon. Fuck it

“Hello?” “ hey girl” “hi chan what brings this phone call?” “well nothing really wanted to know how you were doing and was wondering if you were free tonight?” you smiled, you knew what that meant, but you had to stay strong. “Ooh yeahh, no i'm actually busy at the moment-” 

At the exact time the doorbell rang, “what do you mean?” you walked towards the door and opened it to see him holding flowers, you smiled and let him in. “thank you so much for the flowers r/n!” you said into the phone to make sure you heard. 

On the other line he grew suspicious and was taken aback to have heard a male on the other side of the line. “Y/n? Do you have company over? Hello??” Y/n?” “If you want, just start heading towards my room and we can get started.” You saw him walk into your room and as he walked in you turned around and resumed the phone call.

“ so yeah chan i can really hang tonight im a bit busy” you slyly said. “Who are you with right now?” “nun” “nun who?” “nunya” you heard him groan on the other side of the phone. “Okay bye chan!” “no wait y/n-” you ended the call and blocked him.

“She fucking blocked me..” 

Days have passed and you were lying around your apartment watching tv, just letting time pass by and watching the sunset go down. Looking at the beautiful ombre of red and orange colors filling your living room. Then you heard the doorbell ring. It caught you by surprise because you weren't expecting anyone today. You get up and peek through the peephole and see no other than chan waiting for the door to open. You giggle and open the door, he looks up and scans you up and down,salivating at the way you look in your “i don't care” outfit. Booty shorts and a big t-shirt that was cut from the top that slips down your shoulders. 

“What a surprise to see you around here” you told him. “Yeah well i was just passing by and wanted to come and see you” “oh yeah? You wanted to see me?” “yeah of course” you let him in, not breaking eye contact with him. You eyed him up and down, wearing his black jeans and his leather jacket, seeing he was wearing his white wife beater. Feeling the wetness pool in your cunt. You look away to close and lock the door and once you turned back you felt a full body pressure on your lips, pushing you up against the wall. Kissing you harshly, gripping on your ass, “jump” chan says in between your lips.

He kisses you so passionately and roughly, he goes down your neck and sucks on your sensitive skin, he stops and looks at you for a second. “ I see he left his mark on you” you gave him a blank stare, “so?” still holding you, with his hands underneath your ass. “Can't believe you had another guy over” “oh yeah? Well i know you be fucking other bitches when you aint with me” he looks at you surprised that you knew that. You laughed in his face,  “well I was just saying!, i dont give a fuck who you have over, but you have no need to lie to me, might as well tell me” “seems like you” “no i dont, he’s definitely not hotter than me so i could care less”

 you rolled your eyes and grabbed his face and continued to kiss him, falling back down to the ground, you led him into your room and pushed him on the bed. He looked at you in lust, just waiting to be able to tear your tight pussy up. You take your shirt off, revealing that you weren't wearing a bra underneath. “Fuck baby” you push off his jacket as well and his beater. You were getting desperate, you needed him. It's been weeks since you had chan in you, the other guys couldn't compare to what chan made you feel. You took your shorts and your panties off and helped him get his off as well. 

You pushed him down the bed, ready to center you cunt on his big, thick, cock. “Ughh just sit on it already” chan said as he pulled you down. You let out a loud whiny moan as you were stretched open. You wasted no time in bouncing on him, you grabbed onto his strong shoulders and bounced. You and chan were a moaning mess, your tits bouncing at the rhythm of his pace. You looked at him, smiling with your lustful eyes, he looked up and smiled at you and chuckled. “What's so funny?” you asked and at that moment he flipped both of you over and now he was on top. 

He caught you by surprise, but you werent gonna deny his dominance. You could let him dominate you whenever and wherever he pleased. He grabbed onto your leg and threw it over his shoulder and leaned in. making him go deeper into you. “Fuck.. just like that daddy, m’need you so bad” “atta girl.. You.. take .. me .. s’so good” 

he grunted going feral at the nickname you just called him. “Y-yeah? Daddy? When it comes from you it sounds better ""oh? Others called you daddy too?” you panted out and rolled your eyes. You tried to be mad but the way he was having his way with your sensitive wet cunt, you couldn't bear to start an argument. Hearing the pornographic noises of both your slicks being pumped in and out of you, and the sound of his balls hitting onto your ass. He leaned forward pushing your leg so far up, hitting you in that one spot that did it for you.

You soon start to feel that tightening feeling in the pit of your stomach starting to fuel up. You were about to cum. “F-fuck chan, im gon’ cum” he grunted and deeply moaned “s-shit hold on baby, just hold it, i’ll tell you when” chan kept pounding into you so relentlessly. Gripping onto your thighs so tight, leaving bruises on them, you couldn't hold it in anymore, the pressure building up was getting too strong, too strong for you.

 “please! c-chan i can't-""one..more..second” tears started to form as you were fighting the urge from coming, you crossed your other leg behind his ass, pushing him slightly closer to you as if he wasn't close enough. “Y’yeah baby, you are such a good girl for me, no other guy can.. Fuck you like this.. You’re mine.. Only mine” you were looking away trying your hardest to keep in your orgasm that was so desperate to come out. Chan noticed and grabbed your face to make you look at him. “Hey look at me when im talking to you, no one..can fuck you this good like me, do you hear me?” “ y-yes! Yes daddy! You make me feel so good.. Only you!” “good..now cum for me pretty girl” the second he gave permission, you let out your loudest orgasm yet. The same time Chan came and pulled out to shoot it on your cunt. 

Mixing both your messes, he then shoved it back in with his dick. Making you whiny-moan. He stayed like that, inside of you. Both of you are trying to catch each other's breaths, sweaty and hot. You hold onto him as you look up at your ceiling seeing white. You both stayed like that until he pulled out of you slowly, watching both your cum spilling out of you. “Only for me” he said in triumph. You let out a laugh and looked up at him. He was confused by you laughing. 

You start to get up and get back into your clothes that were spread around your room, “nah christopher, i got some other guy taking me out for lobster and pasta later tonight” you walk past him, and he grabs onto your arm to make sure to get a good look at you. “What do you mean you got someone taking you out tonight?” 

He almost looks hurt that after a night of passion, you are going to spend the other half of the night with some random guy. “Yeah well I've been hanging out with him some time already and I enjoy spending time with him, plus he takes me out on dates and buys my clothes” you told him nonchalantly. He looked exasperated, how could you!

“Yeah well I can too!” “oh yeah?” “yeah!” “Then why don't you do it?”

guess we both aint shit

Hyunjin

“You like that dont you?” you panted out. A moaning mess you were as you were on top of hyunjin. He was sprawled out on your king size bed. He was handcuffed to the bed frame, he wasn't allowed to touch you while you rode him. You were punishing him

You had found out that he was having sex with the sweet girl that lived next door to you. She was sweet and all but you hated her. No need to give an explanation why. He doesn't know why he’s being punished, you do though.

“Ple-please y/nnn” he whined. God you loved the whiny noises he made underneath you, you yourself tried not to cum by the sounds he was making, begging to release. 

“C’mon jinnie, think why would mommy want to punish you this bad?” you said condescendingly. He looked away trying not to cum by your dominant persona.

You grab his face, squeezing his cheeks, holding him steady making sure he was looking at you. “No no no, i didn't say look away, did I?” he shook his head no, tugging on the handcuffs trying to break free, he just wanted to touch you hot, sweaty, skin. Grab on to your beautiful squishy thighs. 

“N-no! I have n-no i-idea why!” he was practically crying at this point. 

You stop your motion, making him open his eyes in a whiny confused look. “W-why did you stop?” “You seriously don't know why I'm punishing you?” still confused, he had no idea.

“ I saw you go to my annoying neighbor's house the other night. You got out of her apartment REALLY late; care to explain what you’ve been doing in her apartment for that long?”

He froze… he knew what he did. He had sex with her. Why? Because he knew that you hated her. You knew everything she did annoyed you. If you could do anything in your power to abolish her, you would. He knew what would have happened if you found out he’s been having sex with r/n. He wanted to push you.

In reality he was doing this to get back at you for sleeping around with guys that weren't him. He hated that you were spread open for guys that weren't him. He saw you hope out that guy’s black Challenger, pulling your skirt down. He knew, what other way to get back at you? Sleep with your annoying neighbor you hated with your dear life. 

Still panting, “why do you hate her so much? She’s so sweet and she bakes cookies”

you guys weren't together but you were together, and you hoped nobody catched onto you guys

you groaned in annoyance, began to bounce on his dick. He moaned at the sudden friction, he was literally on the verge of cumming. “Oh yeah? You wanna know why I hate her sooo much?” you were panting at the rhythm of you bouncing on hyunjin’s big cock. “Because ever since you’ve been coming around, she has been trying so hard to get into your pants, shes not sweet, she's evil, and she knows that.” 

you were angry, bouncing so aggressively on his dick, he couldn't keep up anymore, you’ve been teasing the shit out of his cock for almost two hours, he can't do this anymore. 

“you’re mine!”

“y-y/n im gonna cum!” he whined-moaned. You were so into the anger you built that you didn't hear his pleas. “Fuck! Y/N! Please please!” he was being so loud you were pretty sure your neighbor heard. “Yes! Yes! Just like that please!” 

You finally realized he was about to cum, you made sure he got louder for your neighbor to hear. 

“Yeah baby? You wanna cum? Get loud for me then, don't hold back baby” you demanded.

This set of hyunjin off, he let out the most stomach-twisting, pussy-gripping, toe-curling,yummiest orgasm yet. You kept riding him until you were getting close to yours. “p-please n-no more!’ m’too much, c-cant” “yes im not done yet baby”

You were so close to your climax, just a bit more. You bend back putting your hands on his knees, holding onto something as you fucked yourself on his dick. Mouth gaping open, eyes rolled back, moaning mess, you were fucking yourself to him reaching for your high. 

‘Mmh yes!, so so close baby” “fuck! m-me too!” 

You leaned back forward to kiss him and moan into his mouth, you let go and cried-moaned out loud, cumming all over his cock and the sheets, squirting all over. He came as well just by seeing the mess you made on him, his cum filling you up to the brim once again. You rode your high, falling down onto him panting, feeling light-headed.

You both stayed quiet, trying to catch your guy’s breath. Once you finally relaxed you slowly slid out of him, both of you moaning and the loss of warmth. You plop down next to him, “hope this teaches you to not go fucking around with that girl” you said to him. “Oh yeah? Well i guess if you werent fucking that guy in his car, i wouldnt have” he spat back. You leaned up and gave him a shocked look. “H-how did you know that?” “i saw you y/n”

oh 

“guess we both aint shit”

The next day, you walked out of your apartment and ran into your neighbor, she gave you a scared and awkward look, avoiding eye-contact. You smiled at her

“I know you couldn't make him feel that way the way i make him feel, you wished you were me, you wish your camera rolled looked like an onlyfans of him”

“Fuck you”

“He already does and it feels great”

[skytellar]

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author note: hiiiii, this is my first postttt and i hope y’all like it and tell me how i diddd. i’ve never posted anything on this app so idrk how to do it very well…. 😟😟😟… anyway this is something i scrapped a few moths ago. okay i’ve been yapping for a while adios.

warnings: not much it’s fluff, OCD, body insecurity, skin color insecurity, academic validation, cussing (duh) (i think that’s all teehee)

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Could life get any worse god. This essay was actually going to be the fucking death of her. 10 pages, 10 pages of nothingness as it felt. She couldn’t help but repeat the same words, was she dumb? Why was this so hard, this normally comes easy, school is supposed to be easy, the one thing she holds on to. How can school be the one thing shes good at, and I still manages to fuck it all up. 2 pages in, and its due in 2 days, what the actual fuck.

All she feel next to her is humming next to her ear as she tries to continue working, as if her brain is short-circuiting or something. She manages to type maybe 2 sentences more, before she bashes her head into her hand out of frustration, she couldn’t possibly get angrier. The hand around her waist squeezes and she turns around. “Baby, please don’t stress. And please don’t do that.” Rafe commented. He put both hands on her hips and pulls her forward to him, he looks at her forehead that she just hit. He kisses her forehead 3 times, he knows that how she likes it. 3 times.

“Maybe take a break hun, you’ve been overworking yourself for probably four hours now.” He pointed out as he rubbed her temple, knowing it would ease her temper and stress. “No, I can’t take another goddamn break. I’m being so fucking lazy. God.” She snaps. She felt as though she had accomplished nothing, this essay was her semester exam and she had a 5.0 GPA because of all of her AP’s.

She would absolutely wreck it if she didn’t get an A+ on her exam for AP Lit. “Baby, you’re the most hardworking person I know. Farthest from lazy, you’ve been working far too long. How about we go for dinner, grab a Baha-Blast from Taco bell on the way back, and you can write 2 more pages when we get back? Okay?” He said it as though it was a demand rather than a question.

She thought for a moment. It made her feel bad rather than better. He was too good for her, he did too much. She didn’t deserve him. He saw her lack of a response, knowing she was probably overthinking it. He looked her dead in the eyes, giving her a “please-i-love-you-so-much-baby” look. “Get dressed okay? Please bug?” He asks, knowing she can’t possibly say no.

“You’re impossible,” she scoffs jokingly as she gets up to get dressed. Rafe does his little victory dance and goes to the closet to pick out clothes. She’s on the opposite side of the closet, picking her dress from her side of the closet. She goes through probably 10 dresses and sighs. She felt like she wouldn’t look good in any of them. She was nothing like the girls he’d had before. She wasn’t blonde. Her eyes weren’t blue. She didn’t have that perfect hourglass figure. And she wasn’t white.

How could she possibly compare? She didn’t even believe he was ever attracted to her, even though he makes sure to let her know probably every hour of the day. Why couldn’t her stomach just be flat. She wasn’t overweight, but she wasn’t the skinniest either. Her body had always been a sore subject, barely wearing any revealing clothing. Hoping no one would notice that Rafe’s perfect girlfriend was a fucking lazy whale. Her hair was also something she wished was never a problem for her. She has really curly hair, which she has to fight a full-fledged battle with everyday for it to look remotely decent, like she actually washes it. Why did she have to be like this, and why did he choose her?

By the time she’s at her peak of her thoughts, two hands wrap around her waist from behind. She looks up at her 6’2 boyfriend who was a foot taller than her. He was already fully dressed and ready, cologne and everything. God he smelled fucking delectable. “Have you picked what you want to wear yet bug?” He asked in a deep tone. Fuck, he was so hot. Why couldn’t she be on his level, or why couldn’t he find anyone better. “Still thinking, none of these look good on me.” After hearing that, he looks down at her wide-eyed, as if he was in shock. “What? Bug what are you on about?” She raises her eyebrow back at him, her eyes saying, “You heard me.”

He lets go of her and backs up, hands in the air, “This is shocking. I don’t think we are thinking about the same person! My girlfriend?” She rolls her eyes in return and says, “Okay, if you’re so sure, pick a good dress for me, smart guy.” He smirks in return, “Game on.” He goes towards the dresses, and looks through them, trying to find something he knows she will like and look amazing in. He finally stops at a long hot pink dress, with spaghetti straps, and a low cut. He bends down to grab some heels to go with it, picking some white pumps. He grabs the outfit and drops it in her hands.

“As I said, easy.” She lightly pushes him and walks over to the side to change. As she picks up the dress she gives him a look. She doesn’t change and just keeps looking at him. He doesn’t get the message, so she has to say it herself. “Um baby, can you leave while I change.” He is taken aback, but silently. She doesn’t catch his reaction but just continues waiting. He just walks over and gives her a big hug, his arms around her waist, “Bug, you’re beautiful. If you think anything less than that, I’ might as well be a scrap of garbage on the street.”

She slightly smiles at his attempt at a joke, he pulls away from the hug and starts to walk out. But she keeps holding onto his hand and says, “Stay, Its okay.” He goes in for a second hug, even tighter than the last and kisses her head. “I love you bug.” And then he quickly pulls away and sits on the bench in the corner of the closet as she begins changing.

She quickly slides off her t-shirt, but keeps on the shorts so she can wear them under the dress. The silky dress finds its way to slither down her body, and she pulls the straps up. The dress hugs her body in all the right places, making her look amazing. The low-cut made her boobs look fabulous, she turns over to rafe and he feels as though defiantly made the right decision with that dress. “Okay, you win” she scoffs. He practically squeals in excitement. She makes her way to their shared bathroom to do her hair.

She picks up the sprayer to wet her hair, he stands behind her, to watch. She begins to brush her hair with the brush. A struggle, but hopefully it would look at least half-decent tonight. She roughly brushes it to get out the tangles, when a hand takes the brush out of her hand. “Damn, you’ll be bald if you keep doing that. ” His deep voice vibrates against her ear. He lightly brushes her hair, somehow taking out the tangles? It was never that easy for her. He was good at this.

After a few more passes, her hair is completely untangled. She rolls her eyes at his victory smile in the mirror. She grabs her curl products and starts putting them in softly, her hair feeling amazing. When she finishes, she begins touching up her makeup, already having some from today. After finishing most of it, the last step is lipstick, best for last. She begins putting on her favorite Anastasia Sugar Plum lipstick, with cherry lip gloss on top.

She turns around to see Rafe still standing there, just watching her. He leans down for a kiss but she rejects it. “Uh-uh, not with my lips done” He rolls his eyes and kisses her cheek 3 quick times. Since she already had her heels and purse, he picked her up bridal style all the way to his car. She loved how he got rid of all of her problems with a look and his show-it-off shiteating grin.

She loved him.

˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚ ˚₊‧꒰ა ☆ ໒꒱ ‧₊˚

[moonswolfie]

花火

Kuroo x fem!reader

SUMMER FESTIVAL DATES BECAUSE IT'S SUMMER TIME!!🗣🗣🗣

Whooo, this is probably the most spicy thing I've written so far, Kuroo tends to have that effect on me, you know?

(as a sidenote, my lazy ass is too lazy to do research on how these summer festivals actually work so I apologize for any innacuracies)

Reader wears a yukata because why wear regular clothes, right?

The thing you probably least expected to be doing on summer vacation is going on a date with your crush, Kuroo Tetsuro.

But there you were, walking to the summer festival in your new yukata that you and your friends picked out specifically for this occasion. It's in your favourite color with the prettiest pattern on it. As soon as you saw it you knew it was the one.

You could only hope Kuroo would think so, too.

Full disclosure, you were very nervous right now. Not just because of the whole "crush asked me out on a date" thing, but also because you haven't worn a yukata in a long long time. You were worried it looked strange on you.

You brushed those thoughts away as the hustle and bustle of the festival inched closer. The sounds of people talking, laughing and having fun reverbated in your ears.

"let's meet at the entrance, see you there" you re-read Kuroo's last text message for the.... twenty first time? You think?

You looked up from your phone to find Kuroo standing at the entance, looking around, seemingly trying to find you among the sea of people. He was wearing a dark red yukata which really reminded you of his volleyball jersey. It suited him well.

You swallowed your nervousness and made your way to him. "Hey..." you said awkwardly, catching his attention. Oh god, your voice failed on you just now.

His eyes widened a little as he looked you up and down. His eyes on you made you nervous. Did you look weird?

"You look... amazing." Kuroo mumbled in an awkward tone, looking off somewhere behind you, not directly at you. If it wasn't for the slight blush on his cheeks, you would have thought he as forcing himself to compliment you.

Seeing that he was also nervous made you feel a little better, and you invited him to go inside with you. He agreed, albeit a little awkwardly and soon you two were walking among lots of people in between different stands, gently illuminated by lanterns under the night sky.

The festival was quite busy at this time, little children running beside you excitedly, holding various foods.

"I wonder if they have any grilled saury stands..." Kuroo wondered out loud as you walked beside him. "That's the kind of stuff grandpas eat, you know?" you said with a cheeky smile.

Ahhh, why did you say that?! That was definitely too mean! Just as you were about to mumble out an apology, Kuroo's explosive laughter stopped you in your tracks.

"Ahahaha!! Well, well. What can I say, you youth just can't appreciate good food." he said with the signature smirk on his face.

"Kuroo, we're the same age." you retorted with a straight face, although you were really happy he thought of your comment as funny rather than offensive. Why were you even worried in the first place? It's Kuroo, of course he wouldn't take your sassy comments to heart.

"Wow, what a way to break the ice..." Kuroo said, wiping away fake tears. "You really catch me off-guard sometimes, you know?"

The tense atmosphere around you two evaporated with that exchange and the two of you felt much more comfortable and confident. "Kuroo, can we go get shaved ice?" you said as you noticed a stand around the corner. You were feeling really hot from the date and the nervousness that came along with it.

Kuroo nodded in ackgnowledgment, laughing a little at your excited expression as you sped up, trying to get something cold in your system as soon as possible.

So much that you didn't even notice the old lady right in front of you. When you saw her your eyes widened and you prepared for impact.

But you felt a hand swiftly wrap around you, pulling you back and against his chest. After a couple of seconds of being frozen in place, you looked up to find Kuroo looking at you, mirroring your shocked face.

It was only then you realised how close your bodies were right now and you quickly wiggled out of his grip, desperately trying to shake off the butterflies in your stomach.

"You should really be more careful." Kuroo scolded you lightly, but he couldn't ignore the blush on his face, either.

"Yeah, I'm sorry...." you mumbled, looking to the floor. You felt your hand being grabbed and you looked up, surprised. Kuroo was looking ahead, gripping your hand tightly.

"It's fine, just stay close to me, okay?" he said, trying to sound nonchalant and casual. He started walking, taking you with him. You weren't sure who's hands were sweating more.

You two ordered shaved ice, the embarrasment of the... previous events now slowly leaving you two as you started up more fun conversation, joined by the gentle crunching of the shaved ice in your mouths.

"The fireworks will be starting shortly. Please go to the south area of the festival to view them." the monotone announcer voice echoed through the speakers. You and Kuroo looked at eachother.

"Do you want to go?" he asked with a little hope behind his voice. You still wanted to play some carnival games but watching fireworks together seemed really tempting. You nodded in agreement, and you didn't miss how his eyes lit up.

The two of you turned around, walking hand-in-hand to the south. Once you made it there, you settled down on the grass. You two got quite lucky with your spot, undoubtedly because of the fact you got there quite early.

You snacked on your shaved ice, laughing together with Kuroo at a story about Kenma while waiting for the fireworks. Many people gathered around you over time.

"Ah, they're about to start." you stopped in the middle of a sentence, looking away from Kuroo to see the first fireworks. You didn't notice the way he subtly scooted closer to you.

The fireworks started, you looking at them in awe. They were really pretty.

Kuroo was looking at something prettier, however. That being you, of course.

You felt a hand around your waist and you looked to Kuroo, who was gazing at you with a loving look in his eyes, the fireworks subtly lighting up the left side of his face in all sorts of colours.

"Kuroo, what's-" suddenly, you felt his lips on yours.

It surprised you and you couldn't do anything except sit there with wide eyes, like a doll.

Once you fully processed the situation, you let your eyes slip closed and wrapped your arms around him gently.

It was overwhelming in all the right ways, the sound of fireworks in the background as his lips moved against yours and his hands settled on your waist, hugging you close.

You never want this to end.

It felt like an eternity and a second at the same time, and he slowly pulled away, much to your dissapointment. You both just stared at eachother, taking deep breaths as fireworks boomed beside you.

"Tetsuro." he said, a little breathless. You raised an eyebrow in question.

"Call me Tetsuro."

[anxious2dsimp]

Haikyuu Dads celebrating Mother's Day | Osamu, Iwaizumi, & Kuroo

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Pairings: Osamu x Reader, Iwaizumi x reader, Kuroo x Reader.

Flavor: Fluffy af bby ☁️

Reader: Female Mother!Reader

Format: Drabbles (1.1k words total)

Warnings: None, just fluffy mom (y/n) enjoying her lovely family.

A/N: Mother's Day just really sent me into a Haikyuu dads brainrot and these scenarios have been stuck in my head all day. Enjoy!

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾｡･:*:･ﾟ★｡*✧･ﾟ:˚۰˚☽˚｡･:

Osamu

You tried to stifle your giggles as you sat at your home’s dining room table, the sound of childish bickering and hushed laughter coming from behind the closed kitchen door. “I’ll take the plates, you take the flowers,” the voice of one of your little boys demanded. “Nuh, uh! S’ my turn to take the food, I pwomise I won’t dwop it,” the youngest of the two boys replied while you could hear your husband’s quiet snorts in the background. Your face of surprise was ready when the door swung open a few seconds later to reveal your two sons holding onto either side of a plate, your husband standing behind them keeping an eye on them and the food so it got soundly to where you sat. Osamu and you exchanged a soft smile at the sight of your two boys working together with a concentrated pout that reminded you of their father’s as they slowly brought the food over. Heart-shaped onigiris of your favorite flavor plated with sesame seeds forming a smiley face were placed in front of you, the oldest smiling proudly as he boasted about how they made them themselves. You ruffled their hair and congratulated both boys who beamed at your comment on how they were greater cooks than their father. The cook in question sharing a knowing grin with you, both aware that in reality, he had made all the bases while the kids ensembled the shapes. “Happy Mother’s Day!” The two kids hugged you tightly in your chair, climbing onto you as you hug them back, feeling your heart swell with pride at what your husband and you had created. “Happy Mother’s Day,” Osamu said as he walked over to you, his lazy smirk paired with eyes full of love as his rough hand lifted your chin to capture your lips in a kiss. “Eww get a woom!” the youngest one exclaimed, as the older one made gagging sounds, you and your husband breaking apart to share a surprised look as you both chuckled, trying to figure out where the little boy learned that, probably uncle Atsumu. That Sunday at home, as you shared lunch with your three favorite people in the world to celebrate, all you felt was warmth.

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Iwaizumi

Your eyes fluttered open at the feeling of your husband’s side of the bed being empty like it usually was early in the mornings, when he went for his run or cooked a healthy breakfast. He had kept this up even since the birth of your little girl, making it a bonding moment between them as he brought her energetic self along. Hajime knew how much effort it took to keep up with work and motherhood along with so many other things, so he loved sharing time with her daughter with the added bonus of it giving you a well-deserved rest. The sound of the bedroom door opening woke you from the gentle slumber you didn’t realize took over you to see your shirtless husband with your 8-month-old daughter babbling happily on one arm, both bathed in the warm sunlight of that beautiful Friday morning. Looking at where your daughter was reaching for before her familiar olive eyes landed on you, you were surprised to find a tray with a fruit smoothie and an omelet along with a bouquet of your favorite flowers. An amused smile appeared on your lips as you raised an eyebrow at Hajime as a form of a silent question. “Happy Mother’s Day,” he said, his voice still groggy and laced with sleep mindfully soft as to not to disturb the peace and quiet that enveloped the three of you like a spell, a love-sick smile on his face. “It’s today? Aww, thank you Haji,” you said wholeheartedly, the idea of this being the first of many years to come celebrating Mother’s Day making you teary-eyed as your husband put down the tray beside you. Giving you a peck, he hummed happily as he delicately took your daughter’s hands and waved them as he exclaimed in his baby talk voice; “happy first Mother’s Day mom, dad thought we should make it memorable.” You giggled at your husband’s antics, which nobody would guess considering his tough exterior. You and your daughter were and would always be his soft spot.

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Kuroo

A huff escaped your lips at the weight of two small bodies landing on top of you on the couch, they had managed to sneak up on you as you were immersed in your laptop propped up in the table in front of you. You and your husband had taken that Tuesday afternoon off to celebrate Mother’s Day, Tetsurou going to pick up your daughter and son from school as you headed home and wait for them there. Between huffs and breathy laughs, the two kids wished you a happy Mother’s Day for a second time that day, and you managed to thank them before you felt a much heavier body pile on top of you three. “Daaad!” The eldest son groaned playfully as he tried to push of your husband who was carefully putting down part of his body weight on all of you. “You’re heavy,” your little girl whined between giggles as she tried to shield herself in your grasp. “Am I heavy or are you three just weak?” You could hear Kuroo’s knowledgeable smirk in his voice, the same one you fell in love with, as you scoffed dramatically in response. “We’re stronger than you Mr. Know-it-all,” you said in a sing-song voice as you started pushing your husband off of you, him only allowing you to when his two kids joined him. Once you had all calmed down you hugged your children and thanked them for the colorful cards and macaroni frames they put all their efforts into making at school. “My turn,” your husband exclaimed with his mouth full as he placed down his slice of cake and plopped down next to you, pulling out a small bag from behind the couch. Inside was a necklace locket, that you opened to reveal a picture of the four of you. “Tetsu, it’s beautiful, thank you,” you said as you hugged him tightly, yet you both knew you weren’t just thanking him for the thoughtful gift, but also for the wonderful life that you had created together. “No, thank you,” he replied, his tone genuine and filled with love as your kids pouted. You spent the rest of the afternoon spending quality time as a family and reassuring your two kids that their gifts were better than their father’s, who cheered them up with his “infamous” science puns, as he liked to say.

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Pls I'm too soft for this😭 hmu with your thoughts and requests! <3

[chaos-burst]

questions and answers

He had meant to be rude. And it had not worked even a little bit. Eodwulf is sure that anyone else would have been offended. Hell, he’s even sure that the other members of this weird group were absolutely offended on behalf of their friend. But Eodwulf can’t say he has ever met a person like this.

There was no malice, no ill intent, no anger.

When you work with Trent you have to be aware of every little shift in the mood. The slightest twitch of an eyebrow can mean the weather is about to turn foul. Eodwulf knows what to look out for. It had been his intent to rev this weirdo up and it had backfired spectacularly.

Damn.

No meat. No booze. And balls of steel, apparently. Eodwulf had never seen anyone talk to Trent like that. And while Bren‘s—Caleb‘s—words of wanting to kill Trent outright had been more than Eodwulf would ever admit to his mentor, it somehow felt less crazily reckless than to call Trent Ikithon, Archmage of Civil Influence for the Cerberus Assembly and one of the most powerful mages in the Empire, a fucking fool.

To his face. With a smile. In a complete sincere manner.

Eodwulf doesn’t want to replay the words in his head over and over again but his dumb brain has latched onto them and he can’t stop. Only this time it’s not one of Trent’s lessons that forces him to obsessively repeat something until you have internalized it to the point where you can cite it in your sleep.

No.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people.“

Eodwulf has it on repeat in his head the whole way back to the tower and it is still going when he lies down hours later to sleep.

“What are you“ had not been meant as a serious question when Eodwulf had asked it. But by the time he finally falls asleep he feels like it has become a very vital question indeed, because who or what would dare to speak to Master Trent Ikithon in a way like this with an honest smile on their face.

*

Because for some reason his thoughts have decided to betray him, Eodwulf’s brain makes his tongue and lips form the words again when they see the Mighty Nein the next time. This time, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited to dinner—Trent has very specifically not been invited, you could say he was uninvited with quite a few flowery words in a strange accent.

And as soon as Eodwulf sees Caduceus he remembers the weirdly polite scratching of a chair, the wide smile that indicates that this is a person Eodwulf possibly can not force to lose their composure through careful placed rudeness. And his mouth betrays him.

“So. What are you, really?“

Caduceus blinks mildly surprised before his unfamiliar features shift into a warm smile that has Eodwulf feel quite a lot of inappropriate things he didn’t expect to find in a place like this.

“Gardener. Maker of fine tea. A decent cook. Keeper of graves“, Caduceus lists of and he uses his long fingers to count the things that are important to him about himself.

“Very powerful cleric“, Jester chimes in from the right. She has Astrid next to her in a chair and Eodwulf is pretty sure that Jester has started to put flowers in Astrid’s hair. But surely he must be mistaken. Who in the Nine Hells are these crazy people?

“Oh, yeah. Well, that too, I suppose“, Caduceus says, his smile still warm like honeyed wine.

“Huh“, Eodwulf says because he can’t for the life of him think of something else to say. But Caduceus is yet again pulling out a chair for him so Eodwulf straightens his shoulders and sits down next to Caduceus. Across the table from him the angry one throws herself into a chair and stares at him.

There’s no fear there either, but she can be easily angered, something Eodwulf is good at. He gives her a canine smile and she holds up her middle finger.

This group is full of people with an enormous lack of self preservation.

And they are so loud.

Eodwulf almost doesn’t hear it when Caduceus turns to him to ask him a question.

“Huh?“, he says again, like a fool.

“And what are you, was what I wanted to know“, Caduceus says, his lazy grin open and honest. There is no malice in his words. He actually wants to know.

Eodwulf thinks “Murderer, wizard, protégé, spy“ but he doesn’t say any of these things. “Maker of graves“ comes to mind, but it seems like too dark of a joke to make.

“Enthusiastic about both meat and booze“, he says in the end and Caduceus laughs.

“Yeah, as are most of my friends.“

The implication these words bring is probably only in Eodwulf’s mind but it makes him swallow and look away to find Astrid’s eyes. But Astrid now has pink flowers in her hair and a look of absolute confusion on her face as Jester rattles of compliment after compliment about various of Astrid’s features.

Eodwulf can’t help but look at Bre—Caleb. And he sees that there is a soft, barely noticeable smile on his old friend’s face as he watches the scene unfold.

What am I, indeed, he thinks.

*

Trent’s orders have been clear. Get close to the group called the Mighty Nein to find out what they are working on with Lady Vess DeRogna.

Eodwulf allows himself to think that Caduceus might have been right. Maybe Master Ikithon is indeed a fool.

Because being in the presence of these people is like nothing Eodwulf has ever experienced and it makes him think, wonder, question—

“Here we are again“, Caduceus says after, yet again, Astrid and Eodwulf have been invited for dinner. Eodwulf wonders if this group just wants to make it very easy to spy on them, or if they have an agenda of their own—but it’s hard to believe that there might be any coherent agenda behind anything these people do.

He has watched the buff one called Yasha try and play what looked like a harp made of bone and when the angry one, Beau, told her that she looked hot playing the harp Yasha had torn two of the strings which had led to a whole scene of apologies and various tries to fix the harp.

Jester has drawn dicks on pretty much every surface this magical mansion has and she delights in the fact that Caleb brings the dicks to life in various colors. At some point he made glowing sparkles shoot out of one of the dicks Jester had drawn and Jester had laughed as if this was the best joke she had ever witnessed.

Eodwulf notices Astrid’s eyes on Jester.

Eodwulf also notices that while there seems to be no agenda or efficiency behind anything, they are still being watched.

Beau and Fjord look at them. And Eodwulf is pretty sure Caduceus watches everything as well, but he does it without crossing his arms and glaring so much.

“Looks like it”, he answers. Caduceus offers him tea and Eodwulf’s first instinct is to decline, but then he remembers that “maker of fine tea” had been very high on the list of descriptors so he takes the cup he is offered while somewhere in the background people start screaming something that sounds like “FLUFFERNUTTER”.

Eodwulf tries the tea. He’s not a fan of tea, but this tea is absolutely delicious and he finds himself impressed.

“I believe this one comes from the Hollburns’ graves. Those remains made the tea grow quite fast, it was impressive.”

Eodwulf blinks at his tea and then at Caduceus. For a second his brain wonders if this statement should register as a threat, but it had been delivered with such honest delight and a sense of pride that Eodwulf discards that feeling.

“What?”, he asks. Caduceus points at the tea.

“Oh, well, my family grows tea on those graves we’re keeping. In case you wanted to ask me again what I am. Or—hm, I think I already mentioned that I am a keeper of graves?”

Caduceus trails off and looks thoughtful and Eodwulf stares at him.

“Keeper of Graves. That make you a follower of the Matron?”, he asks.

Caduceus looks at him and smiles.

“Not quite. My family serves Melora. But we are descended from a champion of the Raven Queen.”

Eodwulf can’t help but wonder if this was some kind of weird joke. But his goddess usually isn’t one for joking.

Eodwulf considers for a second, then he pulls out the raven feather pendant from under his cloak.

Caduceus nods. “So”, he says and smiles widely. “What are you?”

Eodwulf snorts.

“For real?”, he says.

Caduceus’ smile widens.

“For real.”

*

It feels like this has become a sort of game.

“What are you?”

“Moral compass. Middle sibling. Eccentric. Amateur flute player.”

Eodwulf finds that through this question he himself posed the first time, he’s been forced to think more about himself than he feels comfortable with.

“What are you?”

“Decent chess player. Dog person. Sportsman. Only child.”, are the things he says out loud.

“Self-made orphan. Patriot. Volstrucker. Torturer.”, are the things he thinks to himself.

Eodwulf has the impression that Caduceus is somehow aware of the things he doesn’t say.

*

“So. This is the crew you’re running with now?”, Eodwulf asks Bre—Caleb one night before the Mighty Nein will leave with Vess DeRogna to who-knows-where. Neither Astrid nor Eodwulf did get very far with their planned infiltration work. Eodwulf is not even sure how hard they even tried.

It’s very easy to get swept away by the chaos and the weirdness and the complete lack of fear that the group displays when it comes to him and Astrid. They are dangerous people in a lot of ways.

The Mighty Nein are also dangerous people in a very different way. A way that Eodwulf doesn’t know anything about.

“This is my family, ja.”

He says it, just like that, without looking at Eodwulf.

Family.

The word tastes bitter in Eodwulf’s mouth as he leans back in his chair and crosses his arms.

“Weird people”, he says. Caleb huffs.

“You can say that, yes. But they grow on you very quickly”, he answers quietly and with a small, fond smile that makes something inside Eodwulf ache. For a long time Eodwulf pitied Bren for breaking, for not making it, for failing, for being locked away and discarded. Now he realizes that maybe, in a very macabre sort of way, Bren becoming Caleb through failure was the better end of the bargain.

It feels blasphemous to think that.

“The pink one is especially weird”, Eodwulf finds himself saying and he takes a big swig of whiskey from his flask before handing it to Caleb.

“Ja, I noticed that you seem to have a... uh... particular kind of interest in him. And, if I may add, he in you.”

Eodwulf takes the flask back after Caleb drinks. He contemplates the different sorts of feelings inside his gut as the words sink in. Then he tucks it all away very carefully, just as he learned through many years of being in Trent’s presence.

“Still don’t know what he is”, Eodwulf says. Caleb snorts and shakes his head.

“His people are called Firbolg”, he provides.

“Not sure that’s what I mean. Not anymore, at least.”

It seems dangerous to admit that. Caleb turns his head and looks at Eodwulf with a shimmer in his eyes that Eodwulf can’t read. Many years ago he was able to read Bren like an open book, but Caleb is another book entirely.

“You deserve to have some nice things, you know. You deserve friends. A chance of—hm. A chance of peace. A chance for redemption, if you want it.”

Eodwulf gets up and tugs away his flask.

“Pain doesn’t make people. It’s love that makes people. Pain is inconsequential, it’s love that saves them.”

Eodwulf understands the truth in these words now. Bren was broken, Caleb is being healed. Eodwulf doesn’t think that there’s anything left in him that can be saved. Or should be saved.

“Good luck on your journey tomorrow. Don’t die”, Eodwulf says and he leaves Caleb behind.

What are you, he thinks. A sentimental fool.

*

Astrid sits next to him on one of the balconies of her house and looks up at the stars above them. The Mighty Nein have been gone for six days and it has been very quiet.

They sit in silence and share a bottle of whiskey, passing it back and forth instead of words. It’s been like this for many many years that they’ve allowed themselves to just be. Today though, Astrid breaks the silence.

“I’m going to be the one who kills him.”

She says it quietly, without remorse, without indicating that this is a scandalous statement. She says it just how other people would say “I’ll go to bed soon.”.

Eodwulf stops breathing for just a moment. Then he inhales the cool night air and turns his head to look at her.

“Could kill you for treason”, he says. She looks at him and cocks her head slightly, the analyzing gaze of a murderous spy meets its equal in silence.

“I’d love to see you try”, she says. Eodwulf grins. It feels reckless.

“Don’t die”, he says, the same thing he’s said to Caleb before. Astrid regards him for a long moment and Eodwulf takes another sip. “Will you help me or try to stop me?”

Eodwulf considers this for a moment. Would he try to stop Astrid should she try to kill Trent? No. Would he help her? He doesn’t know that either.

“Can’t you just wait for Bren to do it for you?”

“I won’t lose to him again.”

Eodwulf snorts.

Always so competitive.

“That’s some fucked up shit, Astrid.”

“Shut up, Arschloch.”

Eodwulf grins before getting up to stretch. He puts his hands on the railing of Astrid’s balcony and wonders what Caleb’s new family is up to.

Making a new family never came to mind before. It sounds like something out of a fairy tale. While he contemplates the question whether he would help Astrid kill Trent Ikithon, a slow, familiar voice pops up in his head.

“Hey. Uh—Jester told me to send you an update. We’re still alive. Hope you’re good. Got  a new question for you. What will you become?”

The rustling of Astrid’s clothes as she stands up as well somehow tells him that she received a message in her head as well. She steps beside him and puts her hands on the railing next to his.

“They’re persistent”, she says quietly.

Eodwulf nods and inhales.

He doesn’t know what he will become. He didn’t even know that was a question to be asked. The path is clear. It always was.

Pain doesn’t make people.

“Not going to answer?”, she wants to know.

“Don’t have an answer yet.”

It’s unclear to him whether she means her own question or the message Caduceus just sent him.

He answers the sending spell with a simple “I don’t know.”. It takes a few minutes before another message comes in.

“That’s good. Uncertainty is good. It’s the first step in a better direction. I’m going to kill a dragon now. Wish me luck. Good night.”

“I’ll keep you posted on the answer to that question of yours. I’ll see you tomorrow”, he says and leaves Astrid behind on the balcony. Eodwulf thinks about something he hasn’t thought about in a very long time. A priestess in his Matron’s temple once told him: “Death is the only certainty in life.”.

He thinks that Caduceus would agree.

And Eodwulf hopes that the next time he sees that weird, reckless man, he’ll have an answer for him.

[itsallyscorner]

Play Me A Song

Paring: Tom Holland x fem!reader

Summary: This is based off the video of Tom playing guitar that he posted on Instagram:) Tom facetimes you to help brighten up your day.

Warnings: none

A/n: Not me using fan fiction as a coping mechanism for my stress, yet ONCE AGAIN.

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✧───── ･ ｡ﾟ★: *. ☽.* :★. ─────✧

“Hellooo, gorgeous girl!” Tom cooed as his face popped up onto your phone screen.

You let out a nasally giggle, the side of your face snuggling deeper into the pillow Tom would use when he was over at your house.

Tom tilts his head at the phone, a hint of a smile on his blush colored lips. The action caused his mop of chocolate brown curls to slightly bounce, catching your attention. You longed for the feeling of running your hands through his soft hair. You missed the way it felt between your fingers and how it would make Tom nuzzle closer to you.

“How was your day? You sounded a bit upset on the phone.” He checked in, voice soft and sweet, yet full of concern. His brows furrowed, causing a wrinkle to form between his brows.

You breath in, smelling the hints of him on your pillow. He was miles away, FaceTime allowed you to see and talk to him, though it wasn’t the same as him being beside you. If you were together right now, he would probably envelop you with his protective arms, pull you into his warm chest, and press kisses all over any bit of your exposed skin. His curls would tickle against your neck while he buried his head into the small space between your neck and shoulders—though you wouldn’t mind the tickle because it would remind you that he was there with you.

You sighed, “Today was a rough day. My professors have been piling work on us and I got called into work on my day off. I haven’t even gotten to start that research paper for class—I’m just so burnt out. I’m tired of trying, Tommy.”

Tom pouted, bringing the camera near his face to feel closer to you. He only felt the heat of his phone screen against his face, but he could still feel the light vibrations of your voice through the phone’s speakers. He placed the speaker of his phone slightly atop his chest, so he could feel the rhythm of your words against him. It reminded him of the days you two would cuddle after the both of you had long days at work. You would tell each other about your days and bask in the feeling of being in each other’s arms. He missed the feeling of being close to you.

“I know you have a lot of work to do, but you need to give yourself breaks, darling. And don’t tell me that you don’t need a break, you’re human (y/n), there’s only so much you can do in a day.” He began. Tom knew how you could get when college got overwhelming. Sometimes there were weeks where you would throw yourself into work, with no sleep, minimal food, and too many cups of coffee. He adored the diligence you had for your education, he wished he could’ve had that when he was still in school, but he wanted to make sure that you were taking care of yourself.

“Listen, you got this, I know you do. You’re the most intelligent and hard working woman I have ever met in my life. There’s nothing you can’t do, because I know, one way or another, you’re gonna find a way to do it. You always do. I just don’t want you to forget to take care of yourself. I know your education is important, but so are you.” He finished, a small smile forming on his lips. You hum in response, “Don’t worry, I’ll take care of myself Tommy.”

What you say seems to reassure him, his shoulders visibly loosened up and the smile on his face grows a bit wider. Your own lips turn up on their own, reciprocating his smile.

“How about you, how was your day?” You ask him. Tom sits up and leans against his headboard.

“Well they’re still renovating the house, so Harry and I decided to rent out a place not too far from mum and dad’s. We actually had lunch with them, I got to see Tessa—gosh, I wish you were here right now. Tess was bouncing all over the place and giving everyone kisses, you would’ve loved it. And Paddy! He’s gotten so much taller since I’ve last seen him, and his voice keeps getting deeper, it’s actually embarrassing for me to be beside him because I’m older and I sound like I’m the one going through puberty.” He rambled, one of his hands making gestures and his face making expressions as he spoke. You loved the way he could just go on about a certain topic, especially when it came to his family. As sad as it was to see him leave for the UK, you were also happy because you knew he’d get to see his family.

He continued to talk about his day until his leg bumped into something, causing a hollow thump to emit from the object.

“What was that?” He leaned forward, the sound of his sheets rustling as he moved to grab the object filling your speakers.

“My guitar.” He grunted, holding the instrument up. “Remember, you got this for me for my birthday!” He proudly reminded you. You had gotten him the Ed Sheeran edition Martin Guitar after he had been going on and on about wanting to learn how to properly play the instrument. At the same time, he had a little obsession with Ed Sheeran and his music, so when you saw the guitar in the shop, you thought why not? You knew he would love it.

You fondly chuckled at him, “Yeah I do! You even promised to write me a song one day after you opened it.”

The last part of your sentence caught his attention, “I will write you a song one day, I’m very serious about that promise, love.” He pointed at you.

“Oh, are you?” You tease him.

“Yes, I am. In fact, ever since I’ve gotten back home, I’ve been practicing again and I’m doing much better.” He confidently told you.

“Can you play me a song?” You softly ask him.

“I can play you ‘Grow as we Go’ by Ben Platt. It’s the song I’ve been practicing.” He placed his phone against a pillow, using it as a stand. He placed the guitar in his lap, positioning his fingers on the frets and strings of the guitar.

“Yeah, play anything. I just wanna hear you play.” You mumble, your voice coming out in a muffle against Tom’s pillow.

“Just a warning, it’s probably not that good.” He mentions, shooting you a playful look.

“I don’t care.” You smile. He starts to softly strum the opening of the Ben Platt song and you couldn’t help but smile. He looked away from the camera, trying to focus on the notes and giving you a good look at the side of his face. The light shines part of his face, leaving the features you can see dark in the shadow, though it didn’t stop you from making out his gorgeous brown eyes. His long fingers move fluidly along the strings, creating a sweet melody on the guitar.

He stumbles a bit, making him whisper “Bollocks.” The little hiccup didn’t stop him from playing and so he continued to strum the guitar. You decided to stay quiet, letting him be in the zone. He messes up again, this time saying “bollocks” louder than the first time. You see him slightly shake his head as he regains his focus and places his fingers on the proper strings again.

You fondly watch him as he play, admiring the man you call your boyfriend. His fingers twitch on the string causing him to pause. He sucks his teeth, a bit of a frustrated grin on his face.

“Mmm.” He looks at you before turning away, “Okay.” He plays again, brows furrowed together in concentration as he tries to play the part of the song his keeps messing up on. You couldn’t contain the giggle that came out of you when he cringed at the sound the guitar made when he tried to play past the note. He pauses looking at the ceiling and tries to figure out the next notes.

“Alright, last time.”

“You’ve got it.” You encourage him. Your words give him some confidence and he shoots you a sweet smile. He readjusts the guitar in his lap, this time keeping his eyes on the strings as he plays. He strums the song again, starting off slow then slowly getting faster. Though his pacing was off by a bit, the song still sounded great nonetheless. You were thoroughly impressed.

He stops playing sitting back against the headboard, “I don’t know why I speed up though. I don’t know why I decide to do it so quickly.” He says into the camera.

You laugh, “It still sounds great though, I really enjoyed it.”

Tom tilts his head at you, teasingly squinting at the camera, “Even with the amount of times I kept stopping?”

“Yes, even with the amount of times you kept stopping.” You laugh, adjusting your phone. Tom puts the guitar aside and grabs his phone. He lays back on his bed, his head resting on his pillow and his curls sprawling out on the cushiony white surface. One of his hands rest behind his head as he stares at you.

“I’m gonna keep practicing. So the next time I see your beautiful face I can serenade you with a song and my guitar.” He muses, a lazy grin on his features.

“That sounds like something out of a chick flick.” You snort. He shoots you a playful glare, “Shut up, you love it.”

Tom knew you were a sucker for chick flick gestures. Kissing in the rain, watching the sunset, you name it.

You sigh, scrunching up your nose, “Yeah, I do.”

“But only from you.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

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[local-spoon-does-a-thing]

Sickness

[(Bayverse) Optimus Prime x Reader]

A/N: Here’s some more Papa Bot fic. Should I make a bonus ending/part about them arriving at the gas station or some shit like that? Also this fic got out of hand and idk how it ended up like this. Hope you enjoy!

“Ugh...hey, Optimus? Can you roll down the window? I need some fresh air.” You mumbled out and leaned your head against the door. For some reason, you felt sick to the core. That’s probably because you were, in fact, sick. Perhaps it was something you ate for dinner yesterday? You did have a rough night trying to sleep. But at this moment, you just wanted to jump out of the moving vehicle, lay on the side of the road, and perish. Your stomach was not agreeing with you at all and begged you to purge out whatever was in it. Once the window was rolled down, you immediately poked your head out and took in a deep breath. Ah, that was much better. But that still didn’t get that sickening feeling out of your stomach. Maybe a nice bottle of water would help cure you. Your hand moved towards where the cup holders would be located and attempted to grab a bottle of water. Though, there was nothing. Looking back, you saw that you didn’t even bring water with you. Oh, right, you’ve forgotten. Earlier when Ratchet had suggested that you bring a couple bottles of water for the trip, you refused and reassured him that you were fine when in reality, you were just too lazy to carry them. In defeat, your hand flopped back down and you poked your head out once more.

Currently, you and the team were traveling to another city in a different state, as it was stated that there were some Decepticon sightings located there. This was going to be your first mission with them and after countless of merciless begging to go with them, they finally agreed to let you travel with them. Ratchet and Ironhide thought that it was a horrible idea, Bumblebee was simply ecstatic that you would get to go with them, and Optimus was just too tired to deal with your tantrums like a tired father. Who would’ve thought that out of all the members of the team, you seemed to be the closest with the Autobot leader himself. Anyone else would’ve thought that you two were polar opposites. You were a simple person that liked to joke a lot and showed some signs of arrogance while Optimus was more on the serious and wise side. Little did anyone know that you two balanced each other out. He kept you grounded to reality while you made sure that he would have fun during his time on Earth. Though your adventures with them have just merely started, you can tell that you’ve made an impact on the team. Everyone seemed more on the bright side, even the grumpy medic. They were happy and that was all you’ve ever wanted. However, your stubbornness and pride proved you not to be the easiest person to handle, like now.

“Hey, Optimus? Is there by any chance that you have some water on you? Not that I need it or anything like that. Buuuut... I might need it later.”

The old ‘Bot let out a heavy sigh and the whole truck rumbled along with him. “Didn’t Ratchet tell you earlier in the morning to bring your bottles of water? We’ve said it repeatedly that this would be a long trip-”

“Okay, okay! I get it, I was just asking in case you did have them. No need to go full on mother-mode.” You cut him off mid-sentence before crossing your arms across your chest and slumping into the seat. Moments passed by and your hands dropped down to your stomach and clutched the fabric that was in the way. Okay, you seriously needed to do something about this. You felt nauseous and each second that passed by was torturous. You wanted to tell Optimus about your condition, but c’mon, this was your first mission! You had a feeling that if you were to tell him about this, the team wouldn’t bring you to anymore future missions. And the main course hasn’t even started yet since you were still traveling to the destination. But was this really worth the trouble? I mean, even outside of these missions, you would still be seeing them.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to snap at you like that, it’s just- I don’t think I’m doing too well. I think I might have the stomach bug or something ‘cause I feel like I’m gonna throw up at any moment.” You half heartedly confessed to him.

At this statement, Optimus had wanted to stop the trip abruptly and check if you were okay. Guess you could say that this was his “mother-mode” or at least close to it. Worried thoughts bubbled into his metal head that he had almost forgotten to respond to you, almost giving you an indication that he was irritated and ignoring you. He would have Ratchet check up on you but then again, he only knew about Cybertronian biology, not human.

“Hang in there, [Y/N]. There’s a gas station approximately three miles from here. We’ll take a rest there and examine you.”

He then went on to accelerate his speed and over the radio, went on to report the other members of the team about your condition. You could hear Bee’s worried buzzing, Ironhide’s sigh, and Ratchet’s grumpy  grumbling of “I told you so” that was directed towards you. In response, you rolled your eyes and laid down across the seats, staring at the truck ceiling. The slight bumpiness on the road was somehow a bit soothing, but it wasn’t enough to put you to sleep. What you needed right now was a distraction. And what distraction was better than you annoying your guardian?

“Oppy.” No response.

“Timus.” No response.

“Hey, Boss Bot!” Finally, you got a response. He let out a surprised sound and you can practically hear the gears in his head turn. 

“What is it?”

“I need you to distract me.”

“Excuse me?”

“You heard me.”

You were met with silence once again. He was confused with what you wanted. What did you need to be distracted from? You weren’t really doing much other than trying to refrain yourself from puking on him. It didn’t take long for you to notice that he was confused by your request.

“Just...just ask me questions. They can be stupid or not or whatever. I don’t want to focus too much on my nausea.”

“I understand. Very well then. How are your grades in school?”

You groaned and smacked the palms of your hands onto your face. You wanted to answer any other question BUT that one. Okay, so maybe you were lagging a little behind on your subjects than the rest of your classmates, but you could fix it up with a snap of your fingers! Or, that was what you thought. You’ve been so caught up with your alien friends that you didn’t think that school wasn’t as important as saving civilian lives and all that. 

“[Y/N]?” His deep voice pulled you away from your thoughts and you slid your hands down your face.

“It’s uh, it’s going...decent.” Wow, way to make yourself sound believable.

“[Y/N]...” Now there was a stern and serious tone in his voice.

“Don’t worry about it! I got it all under control. Go ahead and ask another question that’s not related at all to school.”

Once again, he let out another heavy sigh. He had a feeling that your reasoning for your grades being “decent” as you say, was because of him. He didn’t want to be the reasoning for you failing classes. What kind of guardian does that? Yes, he has the most fun spending time on you and picking up on your witty jokes, but he knew that if it ever came down to it, he would have to step back and let you focus on things that would matter in the long run. Even when it does break him.

“You need to take your school more seriously, please. You know what will happen if your parents were to find out about your grades dropping, correct? We won’t be able to see each other as much anymore. And as much as I want to be with you, I won’t hesitate to take a couple of steps back.”

That...hurt. You didn’t want to be constantly reminded of the consequences, but that wasn’t what hurt you. The fact that he said that he wouldn’t hesitate gave you a wake up call. You sat up from your lying position and looked at his radio with a panicked and disbelief look. You didn’t know what or how to respond to that. He was serious and you knew that. You looked away in shame and clutched your stomach once more. Optimus then moved his rearview mirror towards your face and saw how you looked. It broke his spark and he wanted to comfort you, but decided not to push further on the subject and change it.

“Is there anything you would like to ask that relates to me?”

You perked up at his question and had a surprised look. Honestly, you didn’t expect that at all and you didn’t even consider asking him questions. If you were to, you had wanted to try to avoid the more sensitive topics that related to the war on his planet and such questions like that.

“Hmm, you know how the Matrix-thingy chooses who the next Prime will be or something like that? Well, what were you like before you became a Prime?”

Like you were, he was caught off-guard by the question. It’s been a long while since he had spoken of his previous life. He felt a faint sense of nostalgia as he reflected on his past self. My, how much he has changed over time. Going from having a simple life to being one of the biggest roles in Cybertron history. If he were not in his vehicle form, he would’ve smiled fondly.

“My previous name was Orion Pax. At certain angles, you could say that I was more like Bumblebee: young and free-spirited. I used to work as a data clerk in Cybertron. My life was quite simple and ordinary before I heard of Megatron and came to a realization that I was not satisfied with what I was doing. That...is all I will tell for now.”

“Aww, what?! Come on, you can’t leave me hanging like that! What happened with you and Megatron? Pleaaase!”

“Some other time, tiny girl. Now, it is my turn to ask a question. Do you know what my favorite color is?”

Okay, now you were confused. Why would he go from asking a serious question to suddenly asking about his favorite color. Out of all the things he could’ve asked, he went for that one. Of course, it’s not like you were going to back down from something as simple as that. However, you had to take a moment to think. Did robots have favorite colors? Did they even have time to consider what color was their favorite? You couldn’t figure out what the answer was until suddenly, it hit you!

“Wait a minute, that’s a trick question! You’ve never told me what your favorite color was! You can’t fool me!” You accused as you pointed your finger at his radio. A deep chuckle came from the radio as you guessed right. 

“Clever girl. Well in that case, I might as well tell what my favorite color is. It’s autumn orange. It gives off a warm feeling along with joy whenever I look at it. Just like whenever I look at you. It reminds me of you.”

Your eyes lit up at his words and your cheeks flushed. That...may or may not be the nicest thing anyone has ever said to you. Plus, it sounded very genuine. A warm feeling swirled your insides and a sincere smile danced across your lips. Who knew that an alien from outer space could be one of the most caring people (er- robot) you knew.

“Whoa, I definitely wasn’t expecting that answer. I didn’t know you had a sappy side.” You lightly joke. “But, thank you. That was really nice of you to say. And you should show your sappy side more often.”

“Heh, I’ll think about it.”

You then raised a hand to your mouth and let out a yawn. Optimus was able to catch it and moved his rear view mirror towards you once more.

“Am I boring you already?” He asked in a fake yet barely noticeable betrayed voice. There was a hint of amusement sprinkled onto there.

And you snapped out of your sleepy trance and sat up straight, all alerted. “Wha- no no no! It was just a yawn! I’m not-”

Your words were cut off when you heard laughter from him. Yeah sure, you’ve heard him chuckle before, but an actual laugh coming from him was quite rare. You laughed along with him until it died down.

“Alright, little one. Go on and get some rest. I’ll wake you up once we get to the gas station.”

You lied down along the seats on your back and closed your eyes. As your drowsiness was pulling you into slumber, you heard the radio turn on as lofi music played on a soft volume. Now this was most definitely making you sleepy. Soon enough, you were knocked out. Optimus silently hoped that they could stay like this for at least a very long time. With the both of you in peace, traveling in the middle of nowhere while relaxing lofi hip hop was playing in the background. Yet another moment that he gets to cherish for as long as he gets to live.

[lepusrufus]

To bargain for immortality pt.2

Finally, she felt well enough to leave the infirmary room for good. Her internal organs were at peace for the most part and she could keep some food down without the risk of seeing it for a second time. Her sinuses still seemed to refuse to recover though. Occasional nosebleeds would have her head spinning and the scent of blood so often present within the castle was somehow too offensive to her senses. Nicole couldn't help but wonder how exactly she got it this screwed up, but then again the first few days of the infection were a painful blur that she'd rather not remember.

For now she was content to sit in front of the fireplace with the rest of her family. They decided to have a movie night to break her out of the mopey state she had been in and, for the most part, it was quite the success. She wasn't paying much attention to the projector screen, some sappy scene from a movie chosen by Daniela playing at the moment. Instead, she was simply enjoying the close proximity to Cassandra that she so dearly missed in the last few weeks. Nicole was in the brunette's lap, with hands loosely around her waist and leaning against her shoulder. She was vaguely aware of Laura complaining about the poor life choices of one of the characters only to be unceremoniously shushed by the youngest sister. It made her chuckle.

Bela was passing the popcorn to her mothers when a knock on the main entrance reached their ears faintly. Lady Dimitrescu narrowed her eyes in the general direction of the sound, and listened. Soon enough the rapid steps of Alexandria, their Steward, reached them.

"My Ladies, Mother Miranda's assistant is here."

The whole family got up hesitantly and tried to look as presentable as possible, given their "lazy day outfits". For some like Bela that was a baggy shirt and shorts, while for the Lady it was one of her trademark white dresses. They made their way to the main entrance of the castle, where the assistant, a woman in her late thirties and the air of an annoyed teacher, was waiting. It was Alcina the one to ask why she was there.

"Mother Miranda wants to see um… Nicole was it? Yes, to take a look at the regenerative abilities."

"Why not do it here like last time?"

"Mother Miranda's laboratory is far better equipped for whatever she may want to test. Unless you have something to say against her wishes." She finished that with a raised eyebrow that would've gained her a talon through the skull were she not there as per Miranda's wishes.

Who's talons exactly was debatable.

"I'll come too," Cassandra spoke up from just behind Nicole.

That only got her a dismissive wave. "No, I was told specifically to only bring her. Come now, we don't want to make Mother Miranda wait."

With that, the woman turned around and started walking towards a carriage that would take them away. Nicole looked briefly at her family. They all had either confusion or mild concern in their eyes. All but Alcina who looked as if she'd like to protest and snap at the woman but was holding her tongue.

She reassured Cassandra that she'd be fine and started jogging after the assistant.

---

Needless to say, that was Nicole's first time stepping foot inside the underground network of tunnels. Not that she complained. Few people went there willingly and probably fewer left the same way they came in.

The ancient looking hallways were in such stark contrast with the occasional medical equipment and the pristine looking labs with doors left slightly ajar that Nicole had to wonder if the woman had no taste for a consistent aesthetic. At least Lady Dimitrescu kept all wiring and modern devices carefully hidden or blended in with the castle's decor. Here, the harsh neon lights illuminated worn out stone so dark it was almost black. Not to mention the smell of… old that seemed to ooze off the very walls she was walking by.

She was led inside a spacious lab, the bluish lights above being too bothersome for someone who got used to the warm or natural light in the castle. The room was rather long, numerous hospital beds lined up against a wall, some separated by white curtains and some left visible. An almost imperceptible whiff of an all too familiar foul odor reached her nose, but it was mild enough to be easily ignored. Nicole had a suspicion that the unmoving person laying in one of the cots further away could be the source, but she sighed and hoped not to join them by the end of the day.

Mother Miranda was sat at a desk, microscope in front of her together with a small stack of documents and a laptop. She was typing in what could probably be notes on whatever she was looking at, when icy grey eyes finally shifted to Nicole.

"Get changed and lay down," she ordered, not even moving from her spot.

The assistant that had brought her here, pushed a hospital gown that had been pulled out from a cupboard in her arms. At least she was allowed the decency of changing into a bathroom as opposed to stripping then and there in the middle of the room. The gown was surprisingly comfortable, fabric folding around her body and being held closed by a loose ribbon that she tried at the side.

Once she was back in the lab, she was ushered to one of the beds where she laid down, nervously waiting for whatever Miranda had in mind.

It was quite odd to see her without her usual attire, especially without the gold talons that Nicole was now far more familiar with than she'd ever hoped. The white lab coat looked far too normal on her and, were it not for the unmistakable cold eyes and regal posture, the woman would’ve been unrecognizable.

She finally got up, a few documents in hand, and approached her. The papers were handed over to the assistant, along with a few other objects and finally, Nicole had her full attention.

Mother Miranda bent down, scalpel in hand, and grabbed one of Nicole's wrists. Just like she did back during the first examination, the blade was dragged across the length of her forearm. Despite fully expecting it, Nicole couldn't help flinching at the pain, but she kept her eyes fixated on her arm, at the blood slowly starting to flow from the wound.

Soon the same tingling as before took over the pain and before their eyes, the skin started to stitch itself back together.

"Time," Miranda asked while wiping the blood to allow for a closer inspection of the now good as new skin.

"Five seconds."

"Alcina's?"

"Three seconds."

Miranda hummed, seemingly pleased with the results. Or at least as pleased as the woman was physically capable of being.

"Hook her up to the cardiac monitor," she further instructed while moving to retrieve something from another cabinet.

The assistant, Emma, if the tag pinned to her lab coat was to be believed, stuck a series of electrodes to her chest and abdomen. Nicole bit her lip to stifle a yelp when one came uncomfortably close to the still sensitive skin of the scar.

In no time, the machine came to life, familiar beeping sounding through the otherwise silent room.

"I hope you're not afraid of needles," Miranda said while grabbing the same arm she had before, lips pulled into a faint smirk.

Nicole only shook her head as she saw the needle of a syringe attached to a transparent slim tube slide into her arm. How ironic would that be. The sting was close to imperceptible, taken over by the now familiar faint tingle. Unlike with the cut, it didn't fade away, most likely due to not being able to fully heal the small wound with the needle embedded in the skin and vein.

She looked away, in the direction of the other occupied bed in the room. It was far away enough that she couldn't make out any detail, only messy brown hair sprawled on a pillow. The face was turned towards the wall and body covered up to the neck. She grimaced and decided instead to focus on the beeping machine, mildly annoyed by Miranda's lack of properly separating her dead lab rats from the living ones. At least she hoped she'd stay living.

The numbers on the machine started out normal. With the slight uncomfortable feeling of blood being drained however, her heart rate started to slowly increase.

Alright. Normal enough. Especially when someone is clearly in a fucking blood draining mood.

Nicole decided not to look at exactly how much blood Miranda was drawing, keeping her eyes glued to the various color coded numbers. The heart rate kept increasing until Nicole could swear she could feel her heartbeat ringing in her ears. She gulped. Still relatively within the norm.

Two things were at odds however. First, the blood pressure remained constant, almost as if her body simply refused to acknowledge the fact that it was currently being drained. Secondly, the temperature rose from the normal 36 degrees to a staggering 41 in less time than it should have.

"What the fuck…" She couldn't keep her tongue at the weirdness of her situation, her brain thankfully choosing confusion and curiosity over the dread that it probably should've felt instead.

Mother Miranda didn't seem to care though as she turned to type something on the laptop that she brought over from the desk. She tapped her finger on the device for a few seconds and finally spoke up.

"The accelerated healing means the blood is being regenerated constantly, thus not decreasing in volume. Which explains the constant pressure." She narrowed her eyes at the monitor once again. "It doesn't, however, explain the heart rate and temperature. Any bright guesses?"

It took Nicole a second to realize the question was actually addressed to her. Miranda seemed in an oddly good mood. Not any less hell bent on causing her pain, mind you, but she also seemed genuinely curious. Being a biology nerd will do that to you, she couldn't help but think.

Nicole hummed and thought for a second. She tried to recall any information about the topic at hand that she had studied prior to running away.

"Heart rate could just be the normal body response that stayed even with the mutation. Like… like a reflex. It remains even though it's not needed." Then she tapped a finger on her chin trying to find a less random explanation. "Or maybe it's the body's way of making sure that even while healing all body parts remain at least decently functional. No idea about the temperature though," she shrugged.

Miranda once again typed something up and then, without warning, pulled the needle out of Nicole's arm. She flinched, barely holding in an angry protest as she turned towards the woman. Which was a mistake. She couldn't help the gag that raised in the back of her throat at the sight of the metal container full of blood.

No, no, blood did not bother her. That would've cut her career as a medical examiner short before she even stepped foot in med school. It was the knowledge that that was her blood that made her stomach churn. The container could easily fit three liters of liquid in it, and it was full to the brim. Not to mention the smell that assaulted her still messed up sinuses mixing oh so perfectly with mr. corpse over in the corner.

Miranda just chuckled at her sour expression. "Do you think your darling wife would like to have this?"

With a sneer, masked by Nicole turning once again towards the monitor, she couldn't help slipping an edge of snark in her reply. "No need, she likes it fresh."

The numbers were back to normal, all but for the temperature that was taking slightly longer to go down.

---

By this point her vocal cords were raw from screaming and each shuddering sob felt like clumps of spines in her throat. Nicole was curled in on herself, small frame trembling pathetically on top of the uncomfortable bed. Her hands were shaking uncontrollably, the tingling sensation feeling like needles constantly pricking at her skin around and under the wired leather cuffs wrapped around her wrists. The frantic beeping of the machine was grating to her ears.

An electric shock test.

Of course.

Mother Miranda decided to test out how the increased heart rate worked. Results? Her body vehemently refused to allow her to pass out. Even when the shocks traveled through every part of her body, causing the nervous system to short circuit. Even when damage to internal organs and muscles ripped painful sobs from her throat, that turned into gags as soon as the tingling turned to nausea. Even when she could feel her heart hammering against her ribcage so fast that she was sure the small organ would burst any second. But it didn’t.

Every muscle in her body flared up in a sensation of painful pins and needles when Miranda pushed the button to release another shock. The cardiac monitor started screaming again and Nicole brought shaky hands over her ears in an attempt to block out the sound. Her whole body was on fire while all the damaged tissue repaired itself, making her stomach turn painfully. She felt like throwing up. Not that she had eaten anything today, but bile and thick blood still coated her esophagus. It was all swallowed back with a disgusting gulp.

The nausea was oh so kindly accompanied by searing pain from her still damaged sinuses, who’s condition only worsened exponentially with the electricity. The blood that seemed to coat all the way up to the inside of her mouth felt horrible mixed with the putrid smell of death.

She swallowed again, but that proved itself a bad decision as now that same smell permeated the very inside of her nose and mouth and throat and the feeling of blood sloshing on her tongue behind clenched teeth made her head spin.

She lurched forward, a small river of dark blood flowing from her mouth and nose, into her palms that she instinctively brought to her mouth. Wet coughs made it splatter into crimson splotches on the white sheets, herself and anything else within proximity. It took surprisingly long to realize that, after the initial wave that rose up her esophagus, the rest of the blood was from her sinuses. It was cruelly invading her nose and sliding back into her throat only to come out of her mouth. Fuck fuck fuck-

“What’s wrong?” Miranda’s tone lacked any trace of sympathy.

Nicole simply coughed out the remaining fluid from her mouth and unceremoniously grabbed a piece of cloth from Emma’s hands. She pressed it to her nose, only to feel it soaked against her skin far too soon.

“Damaged sinuses, as you said,” she croaked, her voice sounding so unlike her own.

That made Miranda frown. She kept that same expression while noting down the previous results. “It should be healed by now.”

“Well they aren't,” Nicole spat. The blood and the horrid smell were clouding her mind and, as many knew, pain and holding her tongue did not mix well in her. “And did we really have to do this in the same room as a dead fucking body?!”

Nicole’s angry outburst gave the woman pause. Annoyance mixed with a hint of confusion on her face. She looked at her assistant, an eyebrow raised in a silent question.

“No. Just- just anestesia.” Emma answered promptly.

“What the fuck do you mean anesthesia? Anesthesia doesn’t make you smell like a goddamn decomposing corpse, do you have cotton stuck up your noses?!” Thankfully the bleeding was starting to subside, which meant there was nothing to stifle her steadily raising angry tone.

Miranda, now sporting a scowl, got up and grabbed Nicole’s chin between two fingers. It made her flinch back, but there was no escaping the iron grip.

“I can assure you that the man is not dead, simply under anesthesia and recovering from a bad infection.” She moved Nicole’s head from left to right, eyes scrutinizing as ever.

Afterwards, she turned back and wrote something down on a piece of paper and simply instructed Emma to wrap up and lead Nicole out. The sudden shift not only in demeanor, but also in her position from the bed to standing upright was mildly dizzying. She swapped the gown for her normal clothes as quickly as she physically could, not wanting to spend another unnecessary second in this underground grave.

While she was ushered out the door, Mother Miranda’s sickly sweet voice rang after her.

“I’ll see you in a couple days.”

Her stomach turned.

---

The trek home was short and silent, Nicole simply wanting to get home as soon as possible and get a damn hot shower and sleep.

She bid the young man that was accompanying her goodbye the moment the Castle’s entrance was within jogging distance, and hurried steps took her to the imposing doors. It was Alexandria to answer her knock, Nicole having left her own keys in her bedroom.

“Welcome back my la-” the polite smile was all but wiped off the woman’s face, replaced by wide eyes. “Are you injured?”

Nicole looked at her confused, then down at herself. A muttered curse escaped past her lips when she remembered the bloody mess on her skin. “I’m okay. Just-... just don’t tell anyone I’m here yet. I'll change first.”

Her plan went out the window when a set of hasty steps came booming toward them.

“Nico-”

Cassandra’s voice died in her throat when her golden eyes landed on Nicole’s small frame, dried dark blood on her face and arms and her clothes stained. An angry growl slipped from between bared teeth.

“What the fuck did she do to you?”

Nicole was quick to answer, too tired to deal with anything other than a few hours of sleep. “I’m okay. I’m just-...” she shook her head, then turned to the Steward. “Alexandria kindly ask a maid to draw me a bath.”

“At once.” And with that the woman turned and scurried away, most likely also not wanting to be in the vicinity of an angry Cassandra.

---

The hot water felt like pure bliss on her skin. It seemed to make every muscle relax and get rid of the awful tension. She leaned back, eyes closed and hands idly moving through the water.

It was just mildly difficult to fully relax with Cassandra muttering and pacing back and forth in the same room though.

"I'm-... I'm not letting you do this again."

Nicole simply sighed and started to scrub away at dried blood. The miniature red waterfall from earlier had gotten blood all over her arms and chest, some splatters even getting on her legs. Her face was also a mess, trails of blood going from her nose and mouth to the chin with smudges and splatters.

"What did she even do to you?"

Before she had a chance to reply, a knock came from the door and a maid entered with a few clean towels and a change of clothes from Nicole's own bedroom. The girl didn't linger, simply giving them both a courteous bow and exiting the room.

Looking for something to change the subject, Nicole focused on the pleasant honey smell. Honey with a slight citrus-y undertone, maybe lemon or orange.

"Did you get a new soap?"

Cassandra stopped pacing, brows furrowed. "No? It's the same one."

Confused, Nicole brought a hand that had just been scrubbed with that very soap right under her nose and took a deep inhale. It was indeed the same one. Chamomile and mint. She sighed in annoyance and leaned back against the cool porcelain while Cassandra came and bent down on one knee to be somewhat on eye level.

"Nose still not working properly or…?" She said while gingerly tilting Nicole's chin up with two fingers. She grimaced at one yet to be washed trail of dried blood that made its way to her wife's thin upper lip.

Nicole simply shook her head and grabbed Cassandra's hand. "Can you… go get ready. I'm beyond tired and just want to lay down with you."

Cassandra pursed her lips but nodded none the less. With a kiss on top of red hair, she turned and left the spacious bathroom, door shutting with a heavy thud.

Left alone, she scrubbed every inch of skin again and took a few extra minutes to enjoy the warmth of the water. It felt so incredibly odd to not feel any actual pain after the day's events. Any trace of what her body went through had been erased by her newfound ability, not leaving behind even the faintest mark of a scar, nor blackened skin caused by electric shocks.

She pushed herself out of the tub, grimacing at the slight pink tone the water had taken. Body and hair quickly dried with the towels, she put on the clothes, a comfortable pair of shorts and a tank top, and finally stepped out of the bathroom too.

Cassandra was waiting for her in bed, velvety dark robes hanging loosely on her shoulders and eyes fixated on the window while her fingers were tapping furiously on the cover of a book forgotten in her lap. Book that was quickly placed on the nightstand when Nicole climbed in beside her and pushed her way into the brunette's arms. She was tired and absolutely not above demanding cuddles.

Her wife wasted no time in wrapping an arm around her and pulling the soft blanket up to cover them both. Nicole interlocked their fingers, absentmentally turning the ring on Cassandra's finger. The same ring she had, albeit in a smaller size. A golden band with intricate floral patterns engraved on it. It had no protruding gem, something they both opted for so that the rings wouldn't need to be taken off while working and wearing gloves. Instead, eight small ocre gems were lined among the minuscule curled leaves.

It took Cassandra about two minutes to take a deep inhale and open her mouth. New record.

"Are you… are you hurt?"

Nicole didn't look up at her, the concern dripping from her words alone were enough to squeeze her heart painfully.

"No. I'm all healed up, just tired." She could almost feel Cassandra's question of clarification, but not wanting to go over what had happened down in the laboratory so soon, she opted for something the brunette would hopefully be just as interested in. "We did get some odd results though."

At the lack of any interruption she went on. "Accelerated heart rate whenever I get hurt. Can't pass out." Which was both a blessing and a curse, depending on the point of view and situation. "Also for some reason my temperature gets really high."

"You get one hell of a fever?"

"Yeah."

Cassandra tapped a finger on Nicole's hand, mentally going over possibilities. "Aren't fevers used against infections? Maybe that has something to do with it."

A small hum passed her lips. Could that have something to do with it? It was possible that her healing abilities caused a fever in order to fight off any possible infection before it even became one. Maybe it was her body's way of lessening damage as much as possible since, as the day's events showed, the old replaced tissue had a tendency to get purged. She grimaced at the memory of slowly choking on blood and went for something at least slightly more pleasant.

"Oh and… I can't bleed out. Blood volume stays constant."

She looked up at Cassandra with what could only be described as a shit eating grin. Her wife blinked, realization seeming to dawn on her together with the faintest hint of a blush on her cheeks. She coughed.

"Yeah well. I'll keep that in mind. For when you don't need to sleep."

"And deny me some fun now?" Nicole's pout was purely for dramatic effect and it gained her an eye roll.

Two slender fingers gripped her chin to keep it in place while narrowed golden eyes bored into her green ones. The pout slowly morphed into a smirk. Cassandra was not the kind of person who did not indulge in her own pleasures and that, although to a more careful extent, included drinking her lover's blood. A fact that Nicole was not only not complaining about, but also learned to use in order to push all the right buttons.

When Nicole turned her head in the uncharacteristically gentle grip to plant a small kiss on the soft palm, Cassandra finally gave in. Concern was momentarily put on hold in the name of the normalcy they both have been denied in the last few weeks. She bent down, their lips meeting into a kiss that soon turned needy with tongue slipping past sharp teeth and a hand scratching lightly at her nape. Soon Cassandra broke their kiss, but only to slowly trail her way across her jawline with kisses and small nips. She bit at the soft skin right under the jaw bone, eliciting a quiet groan right by her sensitive ear. Black painted lips took her down the neck and across collarbones, planting a kiss right in between them, at the base of Nicole's throat.

When she slowly made her way to an exposed shoulder, Nicole's hand at the back of her head guided her further up, right above where her pulse was. After an inquisitive hum against her skin, she spoke quietly.

"Since blood loss isn't exactly a problem… no need to avoid the neck really."

Cassandra hesitated for a moment, but ultimately decided to trust her wife. She placed a gentle kiss on the spot right above where blood was flowing in rhythm with her heartbeat. The same gentle kiss that was placed on the skin countless times before and that only Nicole had the privilege of experiencing.

Sharp fangs sunk into tender flesh, the warm blood invading Cassandra's mouth making her moan low in her throat. Being used to the feeling of the bite by now, Nicole simply closed her eyes with a sigh and let her body melt into Cassandra's arms. The familiar blissful ache was welcomed, even though, she noticed, it did not bring with it the lightheadedness she had grown accustomed to.

Although she wasn't aware of it, Cassandra was, in a way, a creature of habit. Every time she would drink her blood, her hand would come up to cup Nicole's cheek, thumb slowly tracing the jawline, right before she would pull her mouth away. Every time, without fail.

This time however, when that happened, Nicole kept her in place with the hand tangled in brunette hair, her voice coming out breathy when she spoke. "Go on."

Cassandra would never admit it, but her self control would always waver while feeding. Therefore, she didn't need much convincing, continuing to take mouthfuls of blood in between a satisfied groan. When she finally had her fill, she pulled back with a bashful look in her eyes. Concern quickly flashed on her face at the sight of the crimson mess on her wife's neck.

Nicole however, not wanting their moment to get ruined, took one of Cassandra's hands in her own and slowly placed a soft kiss on each knuckle. After that was done, and the downright ticklish sensation of skin patching itself subsided, she guided the fingers over the bloody skin.

"See? Healed," she whispered.

Cassandra gingerly traced her fingers over the spot, looking for no longer existing puncture marks. She smiled upon not finding them and turned to pull out a handkerchief from a small drawer of her nightstand. A ritual of sorts, one practiced more times than they cared to count over the years. Cassandra passed the white cloth over the skin, wiping away the crimson stains while her wife relaxed into the touch.

"Feeling good?" It was a remark meant to poke fun at how much Nicole seemed to enjoy herself, but the double meaning did not go unnoticed.

A smile tugged at Nicole's lips and she nodded.

In turn, Cassandra hummed. "You taste different." And, at her lover's furrowed brows and the slightest hint of alarm flashing in her eyes, she clarified. "Not bad. Just different. Slightly sweeter actually."

"Is that so," Nicole purred, the smile returning to her lips.

Cassandra discarded the cloth on the floor to be retrieved later and shifted both of them back down on the myriad of pillows.

"Yes. Now how about you get some sleep."

Nicole wasted no time in snaking an arm around her waist and nuzzling into her side. It would never cease to amaze her how Cassandra's presence could make her feel so at ease, as if nothing beyond the castle's walls existed. At that moment, she couldn't help but be grateful for her newfound ability, useful in far more ways than one.

She stretched slightly upwards, auburn hair like a small waterfall behind her.

"I love you," she whispered against cool ashy lips.

"I love you too," Cassandra replied, closing the almost nonexistent space between their mouths in a soft kiss.

It left behind a slight coppery taste on Nicole's lips, but she couldn't bring herself to care, instead readjusting her legs to tangle comfortably around her wife's thigh.

[seraphdarlimg]

wish I were...

after Harry kisses reader, she watches him mesmerized as his ex walks by

‘heather’ by conan gray WARNINGS - ANGST. WORD COUNT - 2,109

A/N: this is the first imagine I’ve ever posted on here hehe. but this most likely will be a 2-3 part mini series of pure angst...so yay!

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   "My goodness, I can't believe it's been a year and this is how we're celebrating it? " I take a sip from my wine glass with a raised brow towards Harry. We were sat on the floor at the recording studio, having a makeshift little picnic to celebrate a year. A whole year of a beautiful friendship. "Well I thought it'd be fitting, ya know this is where we met and stuff. Look, I even got those Korean chips that you snacked on that day!" I laugh as he comically picks up a chip and places it in his mouth, followed by an exaggerated moan. I try to hide the blush rapidly heating up my face at how much effort he put into this silly thing. It started as a little joke I brought up to him one day when we were having a lazy day, and of course Harry would take it seriously. He planned the little picnic basket after a day in the studio when everyone else left and he had asked me to stay a little longer to help him with lyrics and whatnot. It was a complete surprise and I couldn't help but adore how happy and proud he was setting this up. 

"Alright I gotta give it to ya H, you are the bestest friend anyone could ever ask for. I'm just happy that you didn't include those disgusting kale chips of yours." The smile that hasn't left his face drops into a shocked and offended look. 

"Hey, you said you wouldn't make fun of my addiction anymore." He scoots closer to me, gently poking my rib to which I immediately jump and swat his hand away. "I'm sorry- I'm sorry!" I giggled when he makes himself comfty sat right next to me. 

Subconsciously, I move closer till his shoulder touched mine. "I like this sweater, it's fluffy and keeps people warm." I say, huddling into the fabric that Harry gave me to wear when it got colder. "You know what, I like all your sweaters H, they're all impeccable."   He chuckles, "really? It looks better on you than me, bubs." I smile, using the over-sized sleeves to cover my face and faking a groan. "Oh you would with that cliché ass line."  "It's true! Beautiful in m'clothes." He mumbles and I had to only respond with gratefully lending my shoulder as a resting spot for his head. Considering he literally had to bend his whole body to do so every time he does this, I never understood how he found this comfortable. We shared a comfortable silence for a minute, sipping on our wine, the bottle nearly finished. The courage coming from it is telling me this would be the perfect time. It's the right setting to finally tell him that my feelings go beyond friendship and that it has been since the first month. The thought made me nervous at first, but there had been so many signs from him that had me thinking he's feeling the same way. Maybe those were just my expectations and how loving Harry is, but every time I look at him, I'm mesmerized. "Honestly don't know what I'd do without you bubs." Harry suddenly says and I snap out of my thoughts to glance down at him staring at his empty glass. My heart started beating fast and my breathe hitched when he pulls away only a few inches away to look back at me "This was a tough year and you've been there with me through it all, haven't been this close to someone in that short of time." He says lowly, looking right into my eyes. I take his hand in my small ones and play with his fingers in comfort, as we reflected on how this was both the best and worst year for him. While he became such a successful solo artist after the band and created the best relationships in his life, he reached a mental low dealing with his own insecurities and went through a breakup that took a major toll on him. They ended on good terms, but Harry went through the aftermath of a loss alone. I came in a month after his break up, hired as a lyricist to help him get out of this creative block but also to help him realize how much he was really worth as a person. It was a gradual slow process of friendship at the start, but it quickly blossomed into becoming best friends, growing feelings in between for me. "You're so good to me, I don't deserve it." He was so close and I couldn't tell if I was leaning in or not. My chest feels like it's bursting. "Harry, you've done so much for me, don't put yourself down like that. You deserve my love, mkay?" He looked so vulnerable, staring into my eyes as I couldn't pinpoint what emotion he was feeling right now. I was always able to read Harry easily, but maybe it was the wine that made it harder to understand what was racing through his mind. I couldn't register it. His lips on mine were foreign but felt right, like they fit perfectly. His hands cupping my face gently made me realize this was actually happening. My best friend who I've loved for so long was finally kissing me. "You absolutely deserve mine... "                                                        ***    My anxiety was getting the best of me. The party wasn't like any other rowdy and crowded New Year's Eve celebration. It was a gathering of close friends and mutual at a penthouse with just enough drinking and fun shenanigans. I knew all these people and they knew me, yet it wasn't easy to breathe regularly for some reason. I smiled and laughed along with the conversation among the circle of friends I situated myself in with Harry standing to my right, two people in-between us. I anxiously played with my fingers wrapped around a bulbous wine glass, zoned out but somewhat participating with the group. I caught his eyes, both of us giving a smile when he shot me a quick goofy face. His eyes trailed down to my hands, an obvious tell. I respond with a reassuring smile, placing my hand on my chest to which he steps outside and moves to stand next to me. I soften as he places a hand casually on my back, rubbing up and down. The nerves die down a bit. Usually, I would of been full comfortable but it was different now. After the kiss Harry and I shared, nothing had changed as much as I wanted it too. There was still the casual flirting and touchy gestures, but other than that, Harry never brought it up. "Soo, what now?" I had asked him when he dropped me off at my apartment. He gives me a tight smile and takes my hand in his, bringing it to his lips. "Still my best girl." I was confused afterwards, not fully understanding how he felt towards me. "Hey, I kind of wanted to talk to you about yesterday... " I approached him in the studio, his sweater keeping me warm that morning. "Oh yeah, you never told me what you wanted for Christmas. And by the way, I'm gonna need that sweater back sooner or later." He chuckles, going back to writing down chord progressions. Him avoiding the subject made me think he didn't want to talk about it, so I stopped trying. It made me insecure a bit to show him any type of affection back, but I didn't have it in me to tell him when I'm engulfed in his huge frame, feeling safe and happy at the moment. What made me snap out of my thoughts was his hand leaving my back and slipping into his jacket pocket. He then started being part of the funny story Mitch was telling, including his own side and little comedic comments that made the group laugh. As much as it brought a smile to my face, there was nothing more I wanted to do than take his arm, wrap it around me and kiss his cheek before laying my head on his chest. He took a second here and there to glance at me, probably aware how tired i was getting even though it was only a few minutes before midnight. The kiss defiantly affected something here, as much as Harry was trying to show that it hasn't, I can at least appreciate the acknowledgment that he shared similar feelings towards me. Maybe this was him thinking about the possibilities afterwards, knowing Harry wasn't very much a confrontational person and has taken time to learn to process things more logically rather than pure emotional instinct. When he catches me staring and throws a knowing smirk followed by a wink, I melt right on the spot but at the same time, holding back from rolling my eyes. I felt his stare kept on me when I looked away, feeling less frustrated and more understanding of his situation. Maybe I do just need to give him time... When I looked back at him, he was now looking away at something else apart from the group. I didn't give it a second glance till I noticed he was fully distracted before Mitch kept calling his name but getting no response back. Harry was in deep trance at something more fascinating than his friend's story, and when I caught sight of what was distracting him, I fully understood why. She stood out, so it wasn't to hard to point her out. But of course she would, she looks stunning in that dress that happens to only be a different shade of color from mine. The natural glam and brightening smile on her face as she talked to mutual friends perfected her look, but it was the sound of her melodic voice that just set the deal. It was her laughter from across the room that caught his attention first, what made him break his gaze on me to her. My first thought was concern for Harry and if he was suddenly feeling overwhelmed or distraught by her presence after a breakup. But then I looked back at him and only saw longing and adoration. It was a look I only was recently familiarized with. I purse my lips to hide the frown set on my face while I felt my heart beat much faster initially, watching him mesmerized as she walks across the floor to greet more party guests. Her blue eyes wide and shining, most likely something Harry was dying to see once again as he hoped she would turn his way. Is this what hopelessness feels like? Mitch gave up on trying to catch his attention as soon as he realized who Harry was looking at, and so did the rest of the group. But here I was, desperately looking up at him in hopes that he would suddenly break away and meet my own eyes that stood right next to him. "Guys! The count downs about to start!" Someone called out, followed by cheers and applause as everyone slowly started gathering towards the balcony to see the firework show and celebration of the city below. She moves away from the crowd though, choosing to be semi alone next to the aquarium with a glass of martini in her hand. More people started crowding around us, the group disintegrated into a whole, but my focus was on Harry. As much as my anxiety and tiredness was getting worse, it couldn't compare to the ache in my chest when he takes a hesitant step towards her direction. In a second, my hand flies towards his and gently tugs to me in a last ditch of desperation while I softly call out his name. Maybe it was the way he stopped and turned his head slightly before completely pulling away and walking towards her, leaving me engulfed with the crowd alone. Or that I could picture the loving look on his face when she finally sees him approaching and gives him a welcoming smile while the sound of people counting down from 20 is muddled into the background. All I could imagine to hear was his small 'hi' and compliment for how beautiful she looks, knowing how nervous he would be. "3, 2, 1! Happy New Years!" The celebration of those around me drowned out my glossy eyes as I see Heather take Harry's hand in hers, sharing that same complete adoration look on her face that I was only just becoming familiar with.

_____________________________________________________________

part 2 A/N: feedback would greatly be appreciated :) 

[hearts-hunger]

say it again when we’re sober || frankie morales x reader

Read on AO3 | Masterlist

Summary: High off your asses and half-asleep watching Deep Space Nine, you and Frankie say some things you might not have said sober - but that doesn’t make them any less true.

Pairings: Frankie “Catfish” Morales x Reader, College AU

Genre: Fluff, smut, idiots to lovers

Word Count: 3.6k

Warnings: Drug use, making out, fingering (be safe smoking the devil’s lettuce, kids), perhaps boring amounts of consent-talk (but is there really such a thing? consent is so sexy)

A/N: Yeah so I got high and somebody had Star Trek on and I let my imagination run wild. I’m pretty proud of this one, though - I think it’s hot and really soft. Also, I know this isn’t a Frankie gif, but since it’s a college au I wanted him to look a little younger :) Enjoy!

One second. Omw.

You stuffed your phone in your pocket after reading his text and looked through the grating in the security door, your arms crossed over your chest against the cold. It seemed like Frankie was taking his sweet time coming from his dorm to let you into his building, and you shifted from one foot to another to try and generate a little heat.

He came through the inside door a minute later, grinning like an idiot when he saw you; you tried to ignore the butterflies you always felt when he smiled at you. He opened the security door for you and ushered you inside with a gallant wave.

“Sorry it took forever, Santi almost set the whole place on fire trying to make popcorn.”

You gave him an exasperated smile as you walked with him down the corridor towards his dorm. “Great. So it smells like burnt popcorn?”

He smirked. “Not for long.”

“Wait.” You grabbed the sleeve of his hoodie and pulled him to a stop.

He raised a brow. “What?”

“We’re not gonna - ” You looked around and were satisfied to see an empty hallway, but still lowered your voice. “- smoke inside, are we?”

He looked amused at your worry. “Yeah, why not? I thought you wanted to smoke.”

You punched his shoulder and gave a begrudging smile when he laughed.

“Shut up,” you said. “And yeah, I do, but you’re gonna get in trouble doing it inside.”

He rolled his eyes as you started walking again. “Ugh, fine. We’ll go outside if you want. But it’s gonna be cold.”

“I’ll make you some hot soup or something.”

He snorted. “Yeah, let’s get high and have soup. That sounds great.”

He held the door open for you when you reached his dorm, and you were greeted by the smell of burnt popcorn, as promised.

“Honey, I’m home,” you called, looking around for the culprit. Santi’s head poked out from the kitchen and gave you a wide grin.

“Hi, sunshine,” he said. “Sorry about the popcorn. I didn’t burn all of it, though.”

You went through to the kitchen as Frankie went into his room for a minute, picking out a handful of popcorn from the not-burnt bowl. “And they said college wouldn’t make you any smarter, Santi.”

He smirked. “Yeah, well, you’re the one still hanging out at our apartment on a Saturday night when you could be doing literally anything else, so who’s the real dumbass?”

You smiled. “Still you. What are you doing with your Saturday night, if you’re too fancy to spend it here?”

He leaned against the counter. “I’m going to Will and Ben’s.”

“Ah,” you said, nodding sagely. “Mario Kart.”

“Hey, you’re welcome to join,” Santi said. “Unless you’d rather be alone with Frankie.”

He waggled his eyebrows suggestively; you laughed and tried to downplay the heat rising in your cheeks.

“Yeah right,” you lied. “I’m here for his weed, not anything else.”

“Oh, are you guys smoking?” he asked. “Can I join?”

You shrugged. “Sure.”

“Only if you want to freeze to death,” Frankie called. A second later he came out of his room, holding another hoodie and the pencil case he kept his stash in.

“She’s making me take her outside to smoke,” Frankie told Santi.

Santi grimaced. “Yeah, no thanks.”

Frankie tossed you the extra hoodie he’d brought out, a soft blue thing you’d seen him wear a lot. You put it on and were practically swimming in it, but it was nice and warm and smelled like him.

“Thanks,” you said, sticking your hands in the front pocket and swinging back and forth on your heels.

He looked amused at your enjoyment of his hoodie. “You ready?”

“Lead on,” you said. You gently butted your head against Santi’s shoulder. “Bye, Santi. Hope you win in Mario Kart.”

“Thanks,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll leave the door unlocked for you.”

You and Frankie walked back out of the housing complex, catching each other up on your day. You’d been best friends since you arrived late to the first meeting of your physics class and had to take the only open seat, right next to Frankie. He’d walked you to your next class so you wouldn’t get lost, and from then on, you’d practically been inseparable.

Lots of people had thought you’d get together. Santi, Will, and Ben - Frankie’s best friends from freshman year and now your friends too - teased both of you mercilessly about it. You couldn’t lie and say you hadn’t thought about it - really, you spent a lot of time thinking about it - but you were way too shy to make the first move. You figured Frankie would tell you if he felt that way about you, and you’d live with it if he didn’t. You loved him and you knew he loved you, even if it wasn’t like that, and you were happy with it.

He took you down to the side of the outbuilding that technically served as the housing offices, but it didn’t see much traffic during the day and was abandoned at this hour.

“Ok?” he asked, and you knew that as much as he’d grumbled, he was happy to change his plans around to make sure you felt comfortable.

You looked around at the dark parking lot. “Yeah, it’s good.” It was cold, like he’d warned you it would be, and you stood close to him as he fished a joint and a lighter out of his bag.

“Your pencil case must make you popular with all the ladies,” you teased.

He laughed. “Yeah. I haven’t really found a better place for it.”

He put the pencil case in the pocket of his hoodie and took a long, slow drag when the joint was lit. He held it out to you and you took it carefully.

“This isn’t the ‘hype you up’ kind, is it?” you asked. You’d had something before that made you all jittery and wild, and you hadn’t liked it that much.

He shook his head, bottling a cough in his chest. “Uh-uh,” he said, turning his head to exhale. “It’ll chill you out. You’re good.”

You took as long a drag as you could manage, giving a decent volley of coughs as you exhaled. You smoked with Frankie pretty frequently, all things considered, but you still weren’t very good at it. You liked being high, but you didn’t really like the process of getting high.

“Hit it again,” Frankie offered. “We both know you don’t ever get anything on the first try.”

That was probably true. You took another drag, the lit end flaring with color in the darkness, and managed it better with a little less choking.

You handed it back to Frankie. “Thanks for coming outside.”

“Sure,” he said with a smile. “Anything for you, kiddo.”

You stood close to each other for warmth, passing the joint back and forth until it was spent. Frankie killed it and you looked up at the stars, dim with the light pollution from campus but with certain constellations still recognizable.

Frankie cleared his throat. “So, I’m gonna say something, and it might be a little weird.”

You laughed and tipped your head back down to look at him. “That’s always a danger when you open your mouth, Frankie.”

His smile and the way he looked at you seemed so impossibly tender that you wondered if you were seeing it correctly.

“Ok, smart-ass,” he said, and his voice matched the way he looked, soft and affectionate. He looked a little nervous, and you wondered what he wanted to say that could be such a big deal. Usually Frankie was so straightforward, unafraid of speaking his mind - 

“I wanna kiss you.”

Your breath caught in your throat. 

“What?” you choked.

He laughed. “Goes down real smooth, huh? Well, forget I said it.”

“No, Frankie,” you said, trying to get your composure. You felt a swing of dizziness and grabbed onto his arm to steady yourself.

“Easy, tiger,” he said, putting his hand on your other arm. “You alright?”

“Yeah.” You looked up at him. Could you really have heard him right?

“Say that thing you just said.”

He smiled. “Which one? About wanting to kiss you?”

You tipped your face up almost unconsciously. “Yeah, that one.”

He gave a thoughtful hum. “Well...” He leaned closer to you, close enough that your noses touched. He chuckled softly. “I’ve wanted to kiss you for a long time, kiddo. Pretty much since the day you grabbed the seat next to me in physics.”

You could feel his warm breath on your skin. “That long?”

He hummed in agreement. “That long.”

You closed your eyes. He was so close - you felt his warmth all around you, protecting your from the cold.

“So kiss me,” you said softly, almost afraid to speak too loud and break the spell, to test this delicate balance you both hung in.

You didn’t know how long he waited - it could have been seconds or hours, you couldn’t tell - but then there was nothing but the feel of his mouth on yours, warm and soft and cautious.

He pulled back just enough to see your face.“How was that?”

You smiled. “Sweet,” you said, a little dazedly. Better than you had imagined. “Nice.”

He laughed. “Sweet and nice, huh?” He kissed you again, still as gentle as could be. “You’re sweet and nice.”

“You have a way with words, Frankie.”

“I’ve been told that a lot actually.”

He kissed you deeper then, still taking it slow, giving you time to get used to him. He let you take the lead, and when you opened your mouth, he responded in kind. You could have kissed him like that forever, lazy and easy and full of promise.

“Frankie,” you breathed.

He pulled back a little. “Hm? You ok?”

You pressed closer to him to close the distance; his cautiousness was sweet but unnecessary, and you wanted more of him.

“I want...” But you couldn’t say it, were too embarrassed all of a sudden, your face warming even in the cold air. Not even getting high could erase your bashfulness altogether, or make you brave enough to ask your best friend for - well, more. 

The hand that had been holding onto your arm released you, only to find its way to your waist.

“You want...” he prompted, giving you a few feather-light kisses to your cheeks and nose. “What do you want, pretty girl?”

Your breath caught when he called you that, and you wondered if he’d do it again if you asked.

“Call me that again,” you said.

You felt his smile against your cheek. “Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he murmured. “‘S just me. You don’t have to be shy.”

You closed your eyes and leaned into him, your best friend, the person you felt safest with. 

“Touch me, please.”

“Okay,” he said against your jaw. He moved to kiss you, steering you gently back a few steps until you were against the wall, bracketed by his arms. You let your hands drift over his chest, fingers glancing over the little bit of collarbone exposed by the loose collar of his hoodie. 

“Tell me if you want me to stop, ok?” he said. You nodded, and his hand moved from your waist to your breast, kneading gently. You could feel the warmth of his hand even though the hoodie, and you sighed as he kissed you deeper.

He shifted his weight from one foot to the other, moving his thigh between your legs; you were surprised by the rush of warmth that went through your whole body. You didn’t know if he would have noticed, but you gasped a little, and you could feel his smile.

“What?” he asked, amused and kind.

“Just... surprised me a little.”

He nosed against your jaw. “Good surprise?”

You nodded. “You can...” Again, you drifted off, embarrassed. He kissed you again.

“I want to do whatever you want to do,” he said easily. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. All you have to do is tell me.”

Your cheeks felt impossibly hot against the cold air, and you leaned your head against his.

“You can...” you started again. You pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “You can - I want you to - ”

You put your hand over his and moved it down, slowly, giving him time to pull away. Even though he’d said he was ok with whatever you wanted, it was still so early, and you wanted to go slow, for both of your sakes. He got your meaning and started fumbling with the button on your jeans.

“Tell me what you want, pretty girl,” he reminded you again, but there was only affection in his voice, and you knew he would patiently remind you as many times as you needed. Frankie knew you, knew how you always got so tripped up trying to say what you meant, what you wanted - he knew you and cared for you like you needed to be cared for.

You blushed and hid your face against his shoulder. “Want you to... finger me. Please.”

A thrill rushed through his body at that, a wave of desire and protectiveness that you could feel under your hands as you held onto him. He moved closer to you, one hand leaning against the brick wall behind you, the other slipping under the waistband of your jeans.

“You can tell me to stop any time,” he said. “Just say the word.”

“Okay,” you agreed, already a little breathless at his warmth so close to you.

He moved his hand slowly, staying over your underwear; he gently worked his way over your heat, pressing just enough to make you sigh against his mouth. God, his hand was so big, and his fingers were so gentle - it was heady, with his fingers rubbing slow circles and his tongue in your mouth. You pressed against him, wanting more, wanting him. 

He pulled away and you wondered if you’d done something wrong, tried to tamp down the sting of disappointment and embarrassment as you thought he may have reconsidered it all. Before you could say anything, stutter out an apology, he gave you a quick, reassuring kiss.

“It’s alright,” he said. “Just wanted to warm my hand up a little for you.”

He cupped his hands over his mouth and warmed them, rubbing them together; he reached for your hands and blew gently on them too.

“Figured your hands were cold too,” he said sweetly, and kissed your knuckles. You gave him a wobbly smile and let him hold your hands for a moment.

“You’re so beautiful,” he said, with an innocence and sincerity that made you weak in the knees. 

You leaned close to kiss him, and he obliged you. You draped your arms around his neck and tucked your hands under his hood to keep them warm as he went back to the job at hand.

His fingers were a little warmer, but they were still a shock as he slipped into your underwear and traced over your heat. Your breath hitched from the first touch, and he gave a pleased hum as he started to circle your clit.

“Frankie,” you sighed, letting your body move naturally against him. 

“Feels ok?” he asked gently. 

“Y-yeah,” you breathed. He moved down and teased at your entrance; you bunched the fabric of his hoodie in your grip.

“Easy does it, pretty girl,” he said, nipping at your bottom lip. “Gonna take it nice and slow.”

True to his word, he slowly worked a finger into you, his thumb still rubbing your clit. You let out a shaky breath that gave way to a quiet moan, and you immediately felt yourself blush.

“Sorry,” you said.

He chuckled. “That’s ok. Sounded real pretty, baby.”

He made a come-hither motion with his finger, and you moaned again, a little less quietly. You buried your face in his neck, your cheeks burning; he smiled and kissed you, and you felt hot all over knowing he liked the sounds you made.

“Please, Frankie,” you said, kissing his neck. His thumb on your clit was driving you crazy; your legs started to shake and you leaned on him to steady yourself. “Please.”

He knew what you meant, and he added another finger, setting a steady pace. He didn’t seem in any mood to rush, and you let him draw you out with his skillful, patient touch. 

“Fuck,” you breathed quietly, tangling your fingers in his curls. You could feel your orgasm cresting like a wave between your hips, a low fire turned into a roaring flame with Frankie’s fingers inside you and his mouth on yours. You gasped and let out a sort of mewl as he gave your clit more attention, crumpling his hoodie in your fists.

“Frankie,” you almost whined. 

He kissed your collarbone. “Tell me, pretty girl.”

Your breath came in short pants. “Gonna cum, Frankie.”

“Good girl,” he praised, his voice low. “Cum for me, baby.”

His praise tipped you over the edge and you came on his fingers, riding out your orgasm as he drew it out as long as he could for you. You leaned your head back against the wall and he kissed your neck, murmuring words of praise.

“So beautiful,” he said against your skin. “What a good girl for me.”

When you came down from your high - well, one of them - blissed out and a little overstimulated in the best way, you looked up at him and gave him a dreamy smile.

“Thank you,” you said unsteadily. You were half aware that you were leaning heavily against him as your legs still shook, but he didn’t seem to mind.

He chuckled. “No problem, baby. My pleasure.”

You rested your head against his shoulder, feeling a little dazed as the endorphins seemed to make the weed start to hit more noticeably. You were content and warm, feeling more comfortable and safe than you had in a long time.

“You ok?” he asked. He ran a soothing hand up and down your back.

You hummed in agreement. “A little cold.”

“Yeah, it is a little cold out here,” he agreed. “Why don’t we go back to my place and get warmed up?”

“At least buy me a drink first,” you said, and he laughed.

“Come on, trouble.” He took your hand in his; you tucked yourself close to him and leaned against his arm as you walked back to his dorm.

Santi was still out when you got back, but he’d lit the one candle he kept for when girls came around, and the apartment smelled comfortingly like laundry, or some variant of a “soft cotton” smell. You kicked off your shoes and curled up on Frankie’s bed.

He leaned down and gave you a quick kiss. “Be right back.”

You were content to lay on the bed and doze a little; you did get a little in your head when you thought Frankie had been gone for a long time, but he came back just before you started getting panicky, his laptop and a bowl of popcorn in hand.

“You two and your popcorn,” you said, moving over to make room for him on the bed.

He smiled. “Yeah, but I didn’t burn it, because I’m not an idiot.” He set his laptop on his thigh and pulled up Netflix. “Any requests?”

You shook your head, cuddling close to him. “Whatever you want.”

He put on Deep Space Nine, one of his guilty pleasure shows, and put his arm over your shoulders.

Between the two of you, the popcorn bowl was quickly empty, and you you spent the remainder of the episode kissing and going through every dumb question you had about Star Trek. Your attention got hooked during one scene with a monastery and a weird prophecy-orb that gave people sex visions - or at least that’s what you gathered, as you were very tired and still pretty high. You looked over at Frankie to confirm that’s what had just happened, but stopped before you asked when you saw him.

He was asleep, his head at a bit of an uncomfortable angle, his arm still around you as he snored gently. You couldn’t help a smile as you studied his face, all soft and pretty and restful.

You couldn’t help the words that came out of your mouth, either, tumbling out before you could stop them.

“I love you.”

Oh, boy. Your pulse jumped as if you’d just yelled it from the rooftops instead of whispering it to him while he slept, and you watched his face for any kind of reaction. You didn’t know whether it had been a good idea to say it or not, but you had, and you found it was the easiest thing in the world. 

You wanted to say it again.

He shifted a little, tucking you closer to him; you held your breath, waiting to see if he had woken or was just moving closer in his sleep.

“Lay down,” he murmured. You did as he said, laying your head on his chest, tucking your hand in the pocket of his hoodie. He was warm and solid and safe, and you relaxed completely against him.

“I love you, Frankie,” you said again, even softer.

He gave a sleepy grunt. 

“Heard you... the first time,” he mumbled, still mostly asleep. “Love you, baby. Let’s... say it again when we’re sober, ‘kay?”

“Okay,” you agreed. You smiled and snuggled close to him, already feeling like you were home.

taglist: @punkgeekchic​, @tv-saved-the-teenage-girl, @stardust-galaxies

let me know if you want to be added to my pedro pascal character taglist!

[hops-hunny]

okay! sooo can you do a blurb where the reader walks in on nev watching porn and smoking a blunt and at first he is just like “oh shit sorry” but then the reader suggests they watch it together and smoke together but then they both just get immensely turned on so they just end up fucking

PRONOUNS: SHE/HER

YEAH I CAN DO THAT OML POTHEAD NEV HEHEEE

(Y/n) and Neville were an odd duo to say the least. No matter how high the girl was, her natural shy demeanor still remained. This would be fine if Neville wasn't the exact opposite. Anything he wanted to say or do, he would do it no questions asked. Whether it was walking around the castle in his underwear, hitting up a hot girl for head, or what he was doing now.

At the moment, Neville was beyond thankful for muggle technology. If he would've known they had access to porn in video format, he would've started using it a while ago. It wasn't like they didn't have porn in the wizarding world, it was just in moving picture format. You could only see the same blonde bimbo wave at you so many times before you got sick of it. He coughed some as he hit his blunt, pulling his dick out his pants stroking it a bit. He had the dorm to himself for a few hours so he wasn't too concerned about any unexpected visitors. He continued to puff at his joint, choking on his moans as the full figure woman on the screen continued to let the guy fuck her face.

"H-hey Nev, you told me to come around at this time to pick up some more wee- Oh my! I'm so sorry!" he heard a familiar voice squeak out and the sound of something dropping on the floor. He looked up at his crush, smiling at how cute she looked. She had her eyes covered with both of her hands causing the crop top she was wearing to ride up revealing a bit of under boob. He bit his lip some before taking one last puff of his blunt, sitting it down in the ashtray.

"You're quite alright. I forgot I told you to come around at this time." He stood up, stretching as he let out a lazy yawn. Walking over to his dresser, he pulled out a draw pulling out an ounce. He walked over to the girl, pulling one of her hands away from her face as he placed the weed into her hand. "Here." he mumbled. The girl opened her eyes, screeching as she saw he was still unclothed.

"Why didn't you put any clothes on?! Are you crazy?" she squeaked out, going to cover her eyes with her free hands but was stopped by the tugging on her wrist. She looked up at him confused.

"Did you plan on staying? If so let me put some clothes on, we could watch a movie or something." the girl stood there pondering it for a moment. Was this really a good idea? Probably not, but that was something to think about later when her crush wasn't feet away from her in the nude.

"Yeah, I thought we could smoke together. We always do on Sundays but I didn't take into consideration that you may have...other plans." She sat on his bed, watching as he tucked himself into a pair of grey sweatpants, running a hand through his brown locks before turning back to her. "Do...do you wanna watch it together?"

"'Scuse me?" he asked with a shocked expression, not too sure if he heard the girl right.

"I said do you want to watch it together? The porn that is. I-it could be a laugh!" she said, forcing an awkward laugh of her own out. When he turned around she face palmed, grabbing the bong from his other night stand as she lit it, taking a huge rip. She coughed, half from the weed and half from Neville unexpectedly jumping onto the bed next to her.

"I'll just pick a random one." he said, looking on the computer screen before selecting one at random. He relaxed, leaning back on the headboard as the pornographic noises began to sound off. However, (Y/n) was tense. She continued to take rips from the bong, her nerves flying away with each one as she collapsed into his side. However, her (e/c) eyes couldn't help but widen at the sight on the screen.

"H-hey Nev? Is it just me or do they kinda look like..." she trailed off looking at the lanky brown hair boy on the screen who had his head buried between a pair of legs that belonged to a girl with (h/c) hair that was a similar color to her own. Although they didn't look exactly like them, the resemblance was quite ironic given their current situation.

"Us? Now that you mention it..."He trailed off, eyes trained to the screen. Subconsciously he began to stroke at himself through his pants which didn't go unnoticed by the girl to his left. He let out a force laughed to break through the silence between them. "Yeah it does. Except we'd never...you know."

Yeah, yeah! Of course not..." she trailed off joining him in the awkward force laughter. Neville looked down at the girl to find that her eyes were already fixed on him. As if they shared a brain, she leaped into his lap as he crashed their lips together, gripping at her ass through her thick sweatpants. He sucked on her tongue causing her to let out a moan as she reached down, pulling off her top. He shuddered at the feeling of her bare chest pressed against his, moaning as he began to massage at her boobs. (Y/n) let out another small moan, grinding down onto Neville's already hard cock.

The Gryffindor lifted the girl up, pulling her sweats down just enough as she did the same to his before sinking down onto him. The smaller girl pulled away from the kiss, gasping as she threw her head back eyes clenched shut in pleasure. Neville chuckled some, gripping her hips as he moved her up and down a bit causing the girl to errupt in choppy moans.

"Look at you. You can barely take me, tight little thing. I'm practically splitting you in half." she whimpered at his words, clenching around him causing him to let out a guttural moan at the heat from her velvety walls. He gripped her hips with great strength as she began to meet his thrust, failing miserably. He moved his grip to her hips, jack hammering his large cock into her. With each thrust, he felt like he was going to cum at any second from how wet and tight she was.

"'Magined this so many times! It feels so much better than my fingers." she whimpered into his neck, digging her nails deep into his back as he continued to fuck her senseless.

"Yeah? Dirty girl. I can't believe you had your fingers in your knickers thinking bout me." he teased through gritted teeth, reaching a hand down to rub at her clit. With each passing moment, the clenching her muscle was doing around his dick became more and more frequent. "Come on darling, cum for me. Let's cum together." He gritted, moving the grip on her hip to her ass, fucking her like his life depended on it.

(Y/n) was in a cock drunk daze, not a single thought going through her mind but the need to cum. She continued to whimper, drool seeping out and onto Neville's shoulder as she begged him to make her cum. With each thrust, his heavy cum filled balls would smack onto her most sensitive areas. With one last cry, she came. Neville not too far behind nestled himself deep inside before spilling his load, endless amounts spilling and pouring into the girl's poor fucked out cunt. (Y/n) felt herself become even more lightheaded, a combo of post cum bliss and the intense loud that had filled her lungs an hour prior.

"You look so pretty when you cum. I could look at that for ages."

"Nev!"

[mxvladdy]

True Form- Belphegor

*collapses dramatically* Oh Gods its done! Sorry for the break! I hope my edits are good! 

More to come in this series soon :) 

Hope y’all enjoy!

True Form- Belphegor

Keeping a defined for is hard. Too hard for him anyway.

His true form is inconspicuous. He just naturally doesn’t take up much space in the physical realm. He likes it this way though.

An overlooked predator is a dangerous one.

If he is ever seen in this form it looks like a thin film. He drapes over everything, like dust in an unopened room, or the cling of fresh dew in the morning in the rose garden.

He never uses it when awake. His human form is more palatable and functional in all honesty. Don’t get me wrong though, he doesn’t hate it. It used to be really useful when he wanted to nap and Lucifer was on the prowl. But, such good things can only last for so long. Now Lucifer can sniff him out from a mile away incorporeal or no after centuries of practice.

His real form is best implemented in the minds of his slumbering victims. He can cultivate himself there, using his form to feel out the needs and desires of his unsuspecting host.

He is a manipulator, tried and true. His cunning and wile gets him pacts more than a promise of power or wealth.

Belphegor draws them in with promises of grandeur and unexplored inventions. Limitless discoveries all at the very tips of their fingers, if only they take one more step further. One more little slip deeper into the abyss. Then they can stay sleeping forever with him.

Even as an angel he was known as a dreamer. More often then not he could be found in the inner sanctums sleeping with Beel and Lilith during lessons or being carried around by Lucifer. Back then he always had pleasant dreams or innovative ideas that the other angels made use of. The little inventor.

Now that he has fallen, nightmares come to him more often than not, uncontrollable flashes of The War, his sister’s death, and the pain of betrayal. Perhaps that was his punishment, always drowsy with no control over when he sleeps, with nothing but nightmares to accompany him.

When he has control over himself in his slumber he likes to flit around into other’s dreams. Most of the time he goes to Beel’s as they are very pleasant and help distract him from the night terrors he had just escaped from.

Sometimes when bored or pissy he jumps to Lucifer’s dreams. It’s a rare occurrence when they are asleep at the same time, but he takes absolute delight in fucking with his oldest brother’s dreams or looking for secrets to lord over him.

He doesn’t come into your dreams uninvited though. Not after you freed him. You have given him permission to. But he uses it sparingly. When he needs a break from his own head he might control when you are tired. Just so he can have some time out of his head.

He is very controlling in that retrospect. He will form the shape of your dreams at first. But, you ween him out of it. Now he trains you to lucid dream. He lets you shape your reality around you both. You don’t know it, but he is allowing you to shape him as well.  

Mini Fic

He watches you from a distance. The grassy knoll you built was bright and airy. Pink and purple flowers sway in the light breeze you created, winking at him as they move. The large willow draping over you pulls a happy little hum from your chest. The swinging branches tickling your sun kissed cheeks. You lounge sprawled out on the ground staring up at the false sun with the largest grin on your face. The rays of sunshine illuminate your prone form, casting stark shadows in its wake. They travel down the hill searching and coiling for shelter from the strong lighting. They find him, latching on to his bare feet and merge with his own disjointed outline. How apropos.

"You can come up here Belphie. Promise I won't bite." You call out into the sky. Your eyes were still closed, but you tilt your head in his direction none the less. The smile you throw down at him is more blinding than the sun you dreamt up.

“I don’t want to intrude.” He steps out from the tree line blinking owlishly. Being welcomed in a dream had been unheard of before you. The mindscape was an intimate and private space. He was meant to be an invader, a taint. Before this he had been nothing but a rogue clinging to the edges. A whisper of temptation carried on the wind, or the hollow thud of a heel echoing down an empty street. It’s different here, with you. You expected to see him or sense him in whatever form he chooses. It was-nice.

“You're never an intrusion.” Your raw honesty floors him still, even after all this time together. “Had a rough night?” You ask patting the space beside you.

“Something like that.” He murmurs dropping down next to you. He is distracted momentarily by the heat radiating off your body. “You’ve been practicing.” You beam, proud that he noticed so quickly. His lessons on dream walking and lucid dreaming were hard, but looks like they were finally paying off.

It had been difficult at first, keeping a solid detailed form while knowing you were asleep. Then trying to stay asleep while doing it. You had to fight against the instinct to wake up constantly. It was like somewhere deep inside your psyche was trying to protect you, like it knew what happened when a human ventures too far into this place. Almost like it knew that a cunning little demon was lurking somewhere down here.  

“How’d you guess?” You ask rolling onto your side. He answers by reaching out to you and dragging a soft finger down your bare arm. You shiver at the cool touch, little goosebumps awakening under his touch. Your picturesque scene wavers at the corners from his touch. The caress breaking your concentration for a moment. Belphegor smirks. “I’m still working on it!” You blush.

“I don’t mind, as long as I’m the only one that that can shake you so.” He pulls away to summon a large pillow for himself. You watch him try to get comfortable. He punches and rolls around the poof for a moment trying to get comfortable. You could tell something was troubling him. The energy in his gaze was borderline manic. His usually relaxed stature was strung taut, right on the border of snapping. He would murder you again if you said it; but he looked so much like Lucifer right now. Tight, cold, and rigid. A clear signal of distress.

“You want to take the helm?” You wave around the small scene offering him a distraction. He could expand the scene far further than you could, probably ever could. “Or do you want to let your hair down?” You wiggle your eyebrows at him. You smile at his little snort, that human saying always got him to laugh.

“Sure you don’t mind?” You shake your head and sit up. Truth be told, you liked his weird demon form. You could never entirely place where he was when he was in it, but you just knew he was there and close. It was reassuring.

He breathes a sigh of relief before flopping backward. He disappears on impact with the soft ground. The grass and flowers coming up to engulf him as he takes over.  He flows around you into every corner of your mind, stretching himself to the furthest corners of your dream. He weaves himself in your fantasy. You get swept up in it for a moment. The raw force of him pulling at your center. It is suffocating for a moment, the oppressive weight of his magic. It brings out a bone-deep weariness in you without meaning to. You feel the growing need to just rest. Just a moment.

“Back with me?” You open your eyes. When had you closed them?

“Ye, sorry.” You lean up onto your elbow and shake your head to clear the fog that still clung to it. It was always a head rush when he did that. Blinking the rest of his magic away you take in your now joint dream. The sun was gone, replaced with twin moons and awash with multicolored stars. His sky bled colors, dripping purples and blues onto the green grass around the edges of your vision. The more you focus the more the field grows and stretches. Off in the distances, tiny tents emerge, sprouting up like shoots from the blackness. “Really?” You eye the tents with a wry smile. If you strained your ear you could hear faint carnival music.

A low rumble bounces around you. “You suddenly have an issue with the circus?”

“Absolutely not!” You raise, calling out into the vastness around you. “You better make a carousel!” You could feel him chuckle around you as you began your trek down the hill.

Belphegor is quiet while you navigate the forest. He’s whole being hyper focused on building the world around your quick steps. His was divided and working overtime in an attempt to distract himself. Part of him was busy building the carnival, another working on making sure you don’t stir from your slumber, and the other awake and aware. He hasn’t done this in a while, splitting his consciousness so thin like this. His human body lumbering along in the physical world while his mind was busy in the subconscious one. Hopefully, none of his brothers were awake and would try to intervene. He wanted to be close to you, in both body and mind tonight. You reach the edge of the woods and he turns his full attention back to you.

He had gone all out for you. Bright lights and the echoing laughter of imaginary guests assault your senses. You could even taste buttered popcorn and caramel on the tip of your tongue. A warm hand takes yours causing you to jump. Belphie gives you an apologetic grin for startling you before dragging you off into the park without a word. Who knows how long the two of you spent. Time, as you understood it, worked differently here. Faster or slower you had no idea. But, right now you didn’t care. He needs you here in the present.

“So-” You start hesitantly much later in the evening. You lick at some cotton candy that had gotten stuck on your fingers. “Want to talk about it?” Belphegor shoots you a look from where he perched. His feet dangling from a study steel fence. He watches you ride the slow-moving carousel as it goes round and round in lazy circles. He mulls over what to say as you make a rotation.  

“I dreamt of Lilith again.” He admits. He comes to sit on the metal animal beside you, disappearing and reappearing in a puff of smoke at your side.

“I’m sorry.”

“Ye. Me too.” He pats the kelpie he sits on. Its listless eyes bore into his. His old nightmares reflecting in their ruby gaze. He wanted to be over this. Why wasn’t he over this? The longer he stares into the horses dead eyes the more his nightmares creep back onto him.The dream shifts around you. The air dropping in temperature drastically. The merry background noises choked off and replace with a buzzing that made your head hurt. The sound of metal striking metal and shouts start to grow at the base of your neck.  

“Belphie-” You reach out for him, cupping his face. He doesn’t notice you anymore. His mind going somewhere you shouldn’t venture. His expression turns stormy, closing off to you completely. Fear begins to build up inside of you. Something uncontrollable riding in on the fast building winds. The night sky he built changes. Stars blinking out one after another like blown bulbs. The moons swelling in size, crashing into each other as your dream begins to crumble. “Shit.” You had to wake up, and fast.

You awake with a start back in your bed. Eyes snapping open while your body lays motionless. An odd sensation of sleep paralysis locking your joints. Something radiates behind you, a lanky body drawn close to yours. Sweet breath tickles the nape of your neck. Fighting the paralysis that held you, you turn to greet your bed guest.

Belphie’s half-lidded eyes seem to look through you. His body was icy, a ghostly vapor wafted over of his pale skin. You tried to wake him but your tongue was stuck. All you could do was stare wide-eyed as he dreamt. He comes back to you slowly. His eyes twitch and roll sporadically until he blinks, drawing in a ragged breath as he comes to. His skin warms with each passing tick of your alarm clock. As your drowsy demon stirs the stiffness in your body begins to ebbs. His chokehold on your mind weakening. After what seemed like an eternity he awakens. He takes you in for a moment and then he’s on you, lurches forward to drag your pliant body to his. “Scared me for a second there Belphie.” You mutter into his soft hair.

He sighs, breathing in your scent and focusing on your strong pulse. It had been a while since he had lost control of himself like that. Building up a world was easy. Tearing it down was even easier. The thread that kept people under was thin, like a single strand of silk. To lose himself to a nightmare in another being’s head? It was unheard of. It terrified him. “Did I hurt you?” He rasps.

“No,” You reassure him, pressing a kiss to his sweaty brow. “I woke up in time.” He goes quiet again trying to keep his breathing steady. “Hey.” You stroke a few strands of hair from his face. “You’re thinking pretty hard there, can I help?”

Could you help? If he was losing control of his dreamscape again… He would have to tell Lucifer. A shudder runs up his spine at the thought of retraining. No, he was still strong enough to keep it under control “Just keep stroking my hair, please?” He yawns widely, lethargy hitting him hard. He drifts off to the feel of your fingers flowing smoothly through his hair. The lingering fears slip further and further from his mind with each soft caress.  

[antiloreolympus]

13 Anti LO Asks

1. ok but thats seriously what bugs me so much about LO, it never actually lets serious moments be serious, it's always lampooned by rachel's insistent need to force in her juvenile "humor" and never actually depicting how pressing things are. even the following moments from persephone's r//pe was undercut by hades making stupid puns! i understand if rachel cant write something more serious than "[x] is bad" but if thats so, then dont try it? because thats how you end up with this pretentious mess.

2. since when did lo hades have earrings??? i legit do not remember this ever being a thing??? is he trying to be hip with the kids 😭my man you still look like a crusty old man the earrings arent helping 😭

3. lo hermes looks and acts like flaky from happy tree friends and no thats not a compliment (TW for gore, blood, and violence if any of you google it)

4. Even though the earlier art style was better there are still some cursed panels from the earlier pages that still haunt me. Especially the way Persephone was drawn differently in so many of the panels.

5. lo hades has such "how do you do fellow kids" energy and im not sure why

6. im also confused on the fertility goddess stuff because how stupid is persephone if she didnt notice? she can create life and nature without even thinking and shes implied to be a genius in biology, so how would she not even notice this? if RS really wants to go with this plot, then why have her professor bring it up in class? why not show persephone going to her uni's library to research the topic and pouring over it? that's an easy way to show persephone's intelligence, yet LO doesnt even try.

7. What I wanna know in LO was how Demeter and Hestia were compensated after the war. The three brothers got to be kings and Hera is queen, but what we know of Demeter is that she had a millionaire dollar business that’s probably made it on its own (unless she was helped out) and then Hestia all we really know about her is that she runs that TOGEM and idk if there’s only 4 of them, Hestia really had a group by herself for a bit since Athena is Zeus’ (assumed) daughter, Artemis (Zeus’ assumed daughter) and persphone (newest member) which seems shitty since they won a war together

8. I think what happened with LO’s art style was RS got “lazy” (I’m lacking the right word). I feel like without the colors all of the men in LO have the same body type, and Hermès and Apollo may even have the same face if they smile the same. So to compensate for that lack of body diversity, RS doubled down on Hades’ features to make him stand out more to really show he’s the male lead. However, even in her own words he looks like Persphones’ “dusty ass dad”

The women use to be a little different but they’re all starting to blend with body types. Her was small, but now she’s short and busty like Persphone. RS makes Persphone look short and busty all the time but almost childlike. Minthe was skinny but her last moments she was busy. Aphrodite I feel was just busty but then tried to make her look small also with Ares and Hades beside her. Hestia stayed the same but is still small and busty. Athena was tall and thin (?) but now she’s tall but busty (and her relationship with Hestia looks like it mirrors HXP). Idk I just feel like the longer screen time the female characters get the more they start mirroring Persphone’s look. Like even Artemis was getting empathized on being small next to her brother Apollo. Like all the girls gotta look small but curvy as the story goes on. 

9. Demeter: watched her friend get ripped in half. Watched her friend get continually cheated on, paying the price for not hiding a mistress , watched metis get eaten, her back clawed, fought in a war. Later made a daughter who’s a fertility goddess (probably an accident) and now has to raise her. That same daughter then went on a rampage and isn’t really remorseful

Fans: Demeter is such an overbearing mother who gets in the way of our ship.

10. on regards to ace characters, asexuality is a spectrum like everything else, so a lot of asexuals actually do enjoy and have sex, so the maidens doing so isnt inherently a problem, its the fact rachel is clearly viewing it through a strict binary where she assumes asexuality is something that can be "fixed" over time/when the right person comes along. its also a bad modern reading of it, as "virginity" in an ancient sense meant via marriage, not via sex, but I doubt rachel cares to factcheck it.

11. Imagine an elf is given a job to do at a human institution. The humans think elves don’t need bathroom breaks, since they know they can hold it for days, but this elf has been traveling to reach their job, and has already been holding it to the point they are in pain. They ask for a break, but their job is important and time sensitive, so they admit they can still hold it when asked. After a full day of work, the elf tries to reach the bathroom in time, but they were never told where it is.

From OP: I think this might be a nymph allegory? Anon never specified so I'll put this here anyway.

12. ya know if hades has to lie to make apollo seem worse (who does not need much in this comic) its like??? why is he persephone's lawyer then?? lawyers are literally told not to lie, this is basic law 101. thats why they dont want their clients to mention to them if they actually did the crimes because then the lawyers have to say it in court. if hades lies so casually just to keep persephone away from justified punishment, then thats bad actually!  both in being a decent person and as a lawyer!

From OP: Hades didn’t lie but he was definitely out of line. RS liked a tweet saying that the wife thing was “subconscious” so it probably was. (Still doesn’t make it right but I doubt he’d say those things on the stand.)

13. I know Minthe was written in a way she was suppose to be unlikesable, she’s rude, she yells and she doesn’t hesistate. HOWEVER RS wrote her character badly. Minthe is so unliked? How was she able to be a bad gf to hades and Thanatos? Like yes it’s an affair but how was she able to pull 2 gods?! We don’t hear Hades or Thanatos say what they like about her BUT they both still had a fling with her. (Honestly I feel it’s cause RS can’t bare writing one nice thing about the female anatangoist without trying to make Persphone look good)

The other thing bothering me was everyone knew about her relationship with Hades after she put it on fatesbook, but everyone talked about the kiss in such a positive light IN FRONT OF HER. Aren’t they suppose to be scared of her? Why did the girls in the yoga class/dress shop had so much to say about that kiss? Because they knew persphone? Did they know every other detail too? What was their actual beef with Minthe?

I feel like realistically some more characters would have sympathy for Minthe if they didn’t know her that well because of Hera. Everyone knows Hera is a pill to deal with and she’s the goddess of marriage who hasn’t really tried bringing Minthe and Hades to the alter. That right there should let everyone know that Hera probably doesn’t help the situation.

Idk, I feel like RS could have gone deeper and made the character not such HXP shippers cause most people wouldn’t cheer for cheating nor an old ass guy getting with a 19 year old. (Idk how fast the news of the slap spread, but I doubt it made it to every place in their fictional world)

[orbitariums]

winter with a weasley | fred w. + black fem. reader

i was tired of searching high and low for hp imagines with black readers so !! here goes my own :) send me recs of hp writers who write for black girls!!!

reader is a black woman and a ravenclaw!

happy holidays <333

word count: 5k

     The pitter patter of snow could be heard from inside the dimly lit library, wet snowflakes streaking down the window panes of the large window beside you. The night sky was falling upon you, twinkling stars forming around the top of the castle. The air was clear, no fog to be seen, but your eyes were glazing over as if you were in the midst of a fog storm anyway, your nose buried deep in a copy of “Winograd’s Wondrous Water Plants.” You blinked away the sleepiness clouding up your eyesight, stifling a yawn. The candle in front of you threatened to burn out, and you flicked a lazy finger towards it, the flame rising once again. You were grateful for the cozy, thick sweater Luna had knitted you, protecting you from the slight chill that was penetrating the glass window. You pulled it closer to you, though its warmth threatened to make you fall asleep. 

     You had hardly realized that your cheek was dragging against your palm, and that your eyes were feeling droopier than ever, until you were jolted to a start when you heard Harry Potter’s voice from beside you. He was standing at the side of the otherwise empty library table that you were sitting at, a book clutched beneath his arm. 

     “There you are, everyone’s been wondering where you were. Well, mainly Fred,” Harry admitted, his eyes glancing at you, hunched over your book with nothing but candlelight in front of you. “What’re you doing in the library anyway, exams are over.”

You pushed your shoulder blades back, relieving some of the tension in your body from being curled up with books for hours after classes had ended for the winter break. You were slightly relieved to see Harry, as you were starting to get sort of a headache from all the words jumbling up together on the page. You replied with a small smile.

     “Just doing some after-exam review, that’s all. I want to see what I missed, if anything. 

That way I’ll know what to study harder for next time, that’s all,” you shrugged, and Harry couldn’t help the grin that spread across his face.

     “Just like Hermione,” he noted. “I’m only in here because I’m returning a book. Fred will think you’ve gone mental, studying after exams.”

You chuckled to think of the pink-faced, tousle-haired Weasley twin. He was crazy about you, and everyone knew it. You, on the other hand, were far too focused on your studies to pay him any real attention. He was a distraction, and a horrible one at that— you’d never ace your exams if you were with him, he’d probably have you helping set up him and George’s next prank. Your playfully unamused demeanor towards his advances didn’t stop him anyway, he still teased you and flirted with you every chance he got, because no matter how much you told yourself you shouldn’t have a boyfriend, he always caught how bashful you became at his flirtatious remarks.  

     “Well, he’ll survive, won’t he?” you shook your head playfully, and Harry nodded in the other direction, out of the library.

     “Take a break, we’re having a little party in the common room, you should join us,” Harry suggested, and you took one glance from your books to the lanky boy in front of you before sighing and closing your book. Why not?

     When you clamored through the entrance to the common room after avoiding the Fat Lady’s attempt at a poor rendition of Deck the Halls, you were met with all the holiday cheer you’d ever need for a lifetime. The Gryffindor common room, already in the Christmas spirit with all its red furniture, was draped in Christmas lights and holiday wreaths. The sound of holiday music blasted through the room, bewitched so that it was unable to be heard by passersby, in the hopes that no one would break up their little party. 

     The smell of baked goods wafted past your nose as you entered, and you found your stomach growling— you’d spent lunch studying, hardly eating a thing, and you’d skipped out on dinner to huddle up in the practically deserted library. In the corner of the room was a tree that changed colors each time someone passed by it, and you could see aggravated gnomes shuffling about on one of the window sills, griping about how they were forced into itchy, tiny holiday sweaters. The room was warm and full of Christmas cheer, and you could even spot a student with a permanent drizzle of snow over their head, covered in a coat and a beanie with white flakes spotting the top. 

     You couldn’t help but giggle at the sight, covering your mouth with your hand. You were glad Harry had gotten you out, otherwise you’d probably still be in the library half-asleep. This was much, much better, and you weren’t just saying that. You could see Hermione and Ron approaching you, broad grins on their faces.

     “There you are! We were hoping you’d show up,” Hermione gave you a hug, followed by Ron.

     “Harry says you were in the library. Honestly, I don’t understand you two,” Ron said, meaning you and Hermione. 

Hermione rolled her eyes while you just chuckled, though you were promptly distracted,

     “Well, I’m here now. Is that treacle fudge?”

You headed over to the table of food in a hungry daze, your mouth threatening to water the closer you got to it. You were stacking on food onto a holiday themed plate before you knew it, chicken legs smothered with gravy, greens, cornish pasties, pumpkin sandwich cookies, and treacle tart. You were about to grab utensils, your eyes focused on the table below you, until you were barricaded by two all-too-familiar figures on either side of you. You sighed in exasperation, looking up at Fred Weasley, who was in front of you, then turning to George Weasley, who was directly behind you. 

     “Fancy seeing you here!” George exclaimed, a wide grin on his face. 

     “Really, would’ve thought you were gonna be a no-show!” Fred cupped your shoulder with his hand, spinning you to face him.

     “Though, how could he miss you?” George started, making you turn again to face him this time.

     “You positively light up the room when you walk in,” Fred answered George smoothly, spinning you by the shoulder yet again for you to face him.

You were dizzy from the amount of times the twins had you spinning this way and that, but you steadied yourself in enough time to wag your finger disapprovingly at Fred, the main culprit in all this,

     “Must you always surround me?”

You reached for a fork and a knife, but Fred conjured both from his robes pocket, teeth sparkling as he grinned widely at you. 

You rolled your eyes, but took the fork and knife anyway, muttering a thanks.

     “Really though, where were you?” Fred asked, following you even as you walked away, side by side. 

     “The library,” you answered shortly, and Fred stared at you, shaking his head in clear disdain,

     “Honestly, woman, don’t you ever take a break?”

You turned to face him, snickering as you rolled your eyes and took a bite of your treacle fudge,

     “Don’t you ever take a break?”

Fred smirked, poking underneath your chin with a coquettish finger,

     “Not from you.”

You couldn’t help the heat that flooded your cheeks even if the response was corny. Fred Weasley was always quick on his feet, and never one to back down from a challenge. You’d be lying if you said you didn’t like him in the way he so obviously liked you. It was so amusing to watch, even if it could be annoying— no matter what, Fred was shamelessly, devastatingly in love with you. He wasn’t embarrassed to be turned down, or to show it in the only ways he knew how: through poking fun at you and using the most annoying, yet memorable pick up lines in the book on you. 

     “I’ve noticed,” you cocked your head with a smug expression, and Fred only shook his head, gearing up to say something just as smug as you until he was interrupted by the soft hum of Luna Lovegood’s voice as she zoomed up behind you, happy to see you wearing her sweater.

     “YN!” she exclaimed, her voice wispy and cheerful as usual. 

     You turned to face her, completely dismissing Fred, who decided he’d get you back later. You engulfed her in a hug, and the two of you got to talking, dancing, and sharing a jug of butterbeer that George had smuggled in. 

You had finished the jug and your food, and you were laying back on one of the couches in front of the crackling fireplace, which was roaring high with orange-hued flames. You were tired, but the good kind, not from spending hours hunched over a book this time around, but from partying and eating so much you could hardly move. Ron, on the other hand, was sitting on the floor in front of you, scarfing down another turkey leg. 

      “Honestly, Ron, do you ever stop eating?” Hermione hissed on the floor beside him, and Ron frowned, whining through a mouthful of food,

     “It’s the holidays, Her-my-knee, let me live for once.”

     Apparently, it was now time for the gift giving, which the Weasley twins were in charge of emceeing, and they were making a very big deal of it. Each time someone was up to give a gift, they used their wands as microphones, their voices booming around the room as they called the names of the people meant to collect their gifts from the receiver. Harry had gotten Ron a Chudley Cannons quidditch shirt, you already had Luna’s sweater and you had given her a pair of flying sneakers to make flying that much easier. All the gift-giving and receiving was quite lovely to watch, and everyone ended up satisfied. The twins had made sure no one left empty handed, giving people goodies that would probably turn into toads in an hour or two. 

     “And now, the last present of the night, and we truly do save the best for last,” George announced with a proud, thunderous voice. 

Fred eased up beside George like a sneaky weasel, George throwing an arm around his shoulders. Fred had something in a sparkly, glittering gift bag, and everyone was intrigued, leaning forward to see what it was. 

     “Take it away, Freddy,” George patted Fred’s shoulder, then slinked away so Fred could have the floor all to himself. 

     “This gift goes out to a special someone,” Fred wiggled his eyebrows, deliberately making his voice deeper, and everyone started to hoot lowly. “A certain little smartypants Ravenclaw girl who has my heart.”

You chuckled, rolling your eyes playfully and looking away from Fred, who had zeroed in on you. 

     “She’s a bit shy,” Fred joked, making the room erupt in laughter. 

     “Go on!” Luna prodded you, her eyes twinkling as she smiled at you. 

      You lugged yourself up off the couch and got up, making your way over to Fred, who was standing in front of everyone next to the color-changing Christmas tree, which burned a passionate red when you stood in front of Fred. 

     “You idiot,” you remarked playfully, and he only grinned, handing you the bag.

     “See what’s inside, won’t you!” George hollered, and you glared at him before opening the bag. 

     Inside was a flower in a pot full of red soil. Not just any flower, but perhaps the most beautiful flower you’d ever seen. Its leaves, a pale pink color, seemed to shine, light radiating off of the petals and basking your face in a warm glow. The petals were fat and wide, spiraling at the end into little hollow heart shapes, all of which were of varying colors. As it got closer to the center, the colors of the flower grew into deeper myriads of pinks and purples. You had never seen such a plant before, and you were a top herbology student, plants and flowers were your specialty. It was so beautiful, and probably rare as well. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but nothing like this. You were so surprised, you half expected it to be a prank of Fred and George’s, thinking it might transfigure into a mole rat.

     The rest of the students in the packed common room were just as shocked as you were, gasping and whispering amongst themselves, immediately enamoured by the unique beauty of the flower that made cooing noises in your hand like a little puppy. 

     “Fred,” you gasped, looking up at him with widened eyes.

     “Thought it’d fit you, know you’re into plants and all that smart people stuff,” Fred grinned, clearly satisfied with your reaction. 

     “I-it’s amazing, I-”

     “That’s not all, he’s got more for you in the bag!” George cut you off, and Fred shoved him playfully, laughing, 

     “Shut up, you bloke! Let her see for herself.”

     You ruffled through the bag, which was indeed full of your favorite sweets— honeydukes chocolate, pepper imps, Bertie Bott’s Every Flavored Beans, chocolate frogs, and more. You could hardly generate a response, your mouth stuck open in an o-shape. You liked Fred, but you didn’t expect this from him.

You chuckled, still shocked, and grinned, bemused,

     “Fred, this really is a lot, I honestly didn’t expect it. I-I don’t know how to thank you!”

Before you knew it, you were lunging forward to embrace him, hugging him tight in front of everyone. He was lucky he could cover his face in your shoulder, because he was red as a tomato. You gazed at the flower in your hands when you pulled away, still entranced by it. 

     “‘M glad you like it,” Fred murmured almost shyly, the first you’d ever heard him sound anything other than cocky.

You frowned, truly feeling terrible— you weren’t expecting anything from Fred, and so you didn’t get him anything. Now you felt horrible, standing there empty handed when he’d just given you the most thoughtful, beautiful gift. 

     “Oh, Fred, I didn’t get you anything!” you bemoaned, your eyebrows furrowing together. “I feel horrible.”

     “‘S alright, you’ll make it up to me,” Fred smirked, leaning back against the wall of the fireplace and folding his arms. 

The room filled with a plethora of suggestive “oohs” and “ahhs”, and when you turned to face Ron, you saw he had gone red from watching his brother flirt with you, meanwhile Harry was stifling a laugh, and Ginny was burying her face in her knees while Hermione rolled her eyes. You looked back over at Fred and couldn’t help but smile, shaking your head slowly. 

     “I just might have to,” was all you said, George leaping onto Fred in celebration. 

After the gift giving was over, well, it had ended with you, (and it really was best for last), the party started to wind down as people began to say their goodbyes and make their way back to their dorms. Most people would be going home for Christmas, but you’d be staying here at Hogwarts, scraping by with the few friends who would still be there. But, you weren’t getting away with it that easy. While talking with Fred, George, Hermione, Ron and Harry, you mentioned how you’d be staying in the castle for break. They all made an uproar in disagreement, shaking their heads and complaining.

     “That’s rubbish, you’ve got to at least come to our place over break,” George threw his hands up, and Fred nodded vigorously— you couldn’t help but think this had been on his mind the longest.    

     “Yes, do come to The Burrow, I’ll be there as well,” Hermione insisted, clutching your arm. 

You smiled, looking around at all the needy faces. You hadn’t expected them to be so welcoming, it was already a full house. You didn’t want to intrude, “Won’t your mom be so busy? I mean, all of us? I don’t want to make her holiday stressful.”

     George scoffed, 

     “The woman will make it stressful no matter what.”

     “Really. Besides, mum loves you,” Fred persisted. “She can’t get over me being with a smart Ravenclaw girl who’ll keep me out of trouble.”

You snorted,

     “But I’m not with you.”

     “You will be,” Fred shrugged, unbothered, and you refused to meet his eye because you knew you wouldn’t be able to restrain your smile if you did look at him. 

     “Come on, just come with us! We’ll be leaving in a few days and get there just a day before Christmas Eve, that’s more than enough time to pack your things,” Ron demanded, and you couldn’t help but give in, your body shaking with laughter. 

     “Alright, alright, I’ll spend the holiday with you.”

The circle of friends erupted into cheers, and you grinned, your sparkling eyes meeting Fred’s, who was truly glad he’d have you there for the break. 

     Things were really beginning to wind down shortly after, and you were getting ready to head back to your dorm and go to bed. Luna had already left, and you were one of the few people still remaining. You’d spent the rest of your time talking to that circle of friends, though Fred got next to you whenever he could and talked your ear off. When you were on your way to leave, holding your gift in its sparkly gift bag from Fred, you turned around at the sound of footsteps thudding behind you. It was Fred, running up to you, coming to a stop in front of you,

     “YN, wait. I’ll walk you back to your dorm.” 

     “Sure,” you grinned warmly. 

You and Fred left together, walking side by side in the dark, winding halls of the castle. You talked quietly, Fred taking any chance to make you laugh, and you did laugh each and every time. You stopped in front of your dormitory and stood there, facing each other, not quite saying anything, just smiling stupidly at each other. It was almost humorous how you tried to avoid your fate with Fred, knowing you liked him back. But you always beat around the bush, because you were really a very studious girl and you knew Fred Weasley would just be a distraction. But you knew he wasn’t that bad. How could he be?

     “Well,” you sniffed awkwardly, cupping your gift bag in your palms. 

     “Welllll,” Fred echoed, dragging out the word and making you laugh. 

     “Really, Fred, thank you, I can’t imagine how you even got this, it’s beautiful, really.”

     “Reminded me of you.”

     “Oh, Fred,” you groaned, making a face like you’d just tasted a sour lemon and laughing. “You’re so cheesy.”

     “But you like that about me,” Fred squinted his eyes at you, as if he was seeing right through you. 

     “I can neither confirm or deny that statement. Your head might explode if I confirm,” you teased, and he simply nodded in agreement.

     “You’ve got a point.”

     “Really though, how did you get this? I’ve never seen such a thing before. Don’t tell me you stole it from Professor Sprout.”

     “Honestly, how much of a git do you think I am? I’ve got my connections, that’s all. It’s special, keep your eye on it.”

     “Alright,” you grinned, sniffing the fragrant, honey-nectar scented center of the flower.  “I’ll leave you be. I really do feel bad that I didn’t get you anything though. If I’d known I would’ve-”

Fred shook his head, 

     “Oh shut up. Of course I had to get you something, all I wanted this holiday was to get you something you’d like. And you like it, don’t you?” You nodded, and he smiled. “That’s all I need.”

You smiled, pleased, then sighed,

     “I really should get going to bed though, and you should too, it’s nearly curfew.”

Fred merely shrugged carelessly,

     “Meh, I’m on break, who gives a rat’s ass what Filch tries to do.”

     “Okay, Fred, whatever you say,” you grinned, shaking your head playfully at his devil-may-care attitude. “Goodnight, now.”

     “Goodnight,” Fred smiled at you.

You started to turn to your dorm, but you turned back at the last second, saying his name,

     “Wait, Fred?”

     “Yeah?” he replied, only for you to lean forward and kiss him softly on the cheek, pulling away slowly and blinking ever so gently. Blush was rising up his cheeks steadily, and he looked like he had melted on the spot, gawking at you. 

You smiled, satisfied with yourself, and spun around, actually about to leave this time,

     “See you in the morning!”

That night, you could’ve sworn your flower grew at least an inch taller, and you hadn’t even done a thing to it.

In the few days you had left at Hogwarts, you and Fred had been spending an awful lot of time together. You were actually taking the time to get to know him, because deep down you knew it was what you both wanted. Each time George passed by you two talking in an empty corridor, he coughed, “lovebirds!” And finally, it was time to leave. You all boarded the train back home, you sharing a car with Ginny and Hermione while the boys stayed with each other, though Fred passed by every hour or so to try and amuse you. 

     “D’you like him, Fred?” Ginny asked, leaning her head against the cool train window. 

You looked down at the table, unable to hide your smile,

     “Yeah, I do. And he knows it.”

     “I think you two would be cute,” Hermione beamed, glancing up from the newspaper. 

     “I have to say, Fred’s never picked a better choice,” Ginny smiled. 

The holidays at the Weasley house were hectic, but they were lovely all the same. George didn’t lie when he said his mother, Molly Weasley, made holidays stressful, but it was the good kind of stress. You were never bored, or lonely for that matter. You always had something to do, whether it be crusting pies, helping Molly magically wash the dishes, pillow fights with Ron and Harry, or listening to Hermione go on and on about her marks for her exams. Besides, Molly really did love you. She kept gushing over how smart and well-behaved you were. And you were convinced Fred had lied and told her you two were a couple, because any time she saw you and Fred together, she cooed, “you two!” and snapped a picture, leaving you blinded by the flash of her old camera. 

It was probably the most bustling Christmas you’d had yet, and everything was going well.

     The afternoon before, Molly had cooked a wonderful feast to be scarved down for tomorrow, and she put charms on all the meals to keep them warm and protected from the boys, who she knew would try to sneak down and take a bite before it was time. You sauntered around the kitchen on Christmas Eve. It was nighttime, and the kitchen was pitch black except for the light emanating from the tip of your wand. You opened the fridge, trying to make yourself a glass of warm pumpkin juice before bed. You’d stayed up late reading, thinking everyone else had gone to sleep. But you were wrong, and you gasped when the kitchen light turned on suddenly. 

You jumped, clutching your chest and breathing in and out, only to see Fred laughing in the corner of the kitchen. You sighed in relief,

     “Jesus, Fred, you scared me. Thought I was the only one up.”

Fred cocked his head to the side as if he were examining you,

     “Late sleeper?”

You nodded,

     “Sometimes. Why are you up?”

     “I happen to be a late sleeper myself… and I heard your footsteps going down to the kitchen.”

You quirked a brow, amused,

     “So you followed me?”

     “This is my house, if anything, you’re following me,” Fred defended himself, folding his arms.

     “I’m only joking, Weasley,” you snorted, continuing to fix yourself a glass of pumpkin juice.

     “I like when you call me that,” Fred remarked, and you pretended not to hear him, but your cheeks were hot as ever. 

     He got closer to you, standing right beside you at the kitchen counter and leaning against it, watching as your hands shook out of nerves while you poured your juice. Since when did Fred make you nervous? And why was being close to him making you so lightheaded? He was looking at you, but you refused to look at him, keeping your eyes trained on your glass, not even noticing when it almost overflowed because your thoughts were elsewhere.

Fred, who had his cheek pressed into his palm, smirked, and did a onceover of you.

     “Need help?” he taunted you. 

You chuckled nervously, huffing,

     “No?”

     “You sure?” he asked, almost challenging you to look at him. 

You turned to face him, rolling your eyes, but you weren’t prepared for him to be standing up, towering over you. You took a deep breath in, while he simply grinned. You looked up at him, blinking rapidly as if there was something in your eye. 

     “Here,” Fred leaned into you, and you froze, only to realize that he was just pulling out his wand and tapping it against your glass. 

When you picked it up and took a drink, the pumpkin juice was just as warm as you’d wanted it to be, and you didn’t even need to heat it up like you were going to.

     “Thanks,” you grinned, your eyes flickering from his to the floor. 

     “Should be getting to bed. Happy Christmas Eve,” Fred gave you a slick three fingered wave and slinked away up the stairs, leaving you there to exhale a breath you didn’t realize you’d been holding. You were in over your head, for sure. 

On Christmas morning, you were the first one up, surprisingly. You got ready as quietly as possible, passing Hermione’s cat on the way to the bathroom as you got ready. For Christmas, you decided you’d dress nicely, putting on a well-fitting orange turtleneck with a black miniskirt. You headed down the stairs silently and found yourself in the kitchen, holding your plant in your hands so you could place it on the window in front of the sink and let it get a bit more light there. 

You paused when you heard footsteps coming down the stairs, and when you saw Fred, you bit down on your lip. He grinned at you, dressed in his personal Christmas best, a sweater with “F” emblazoned on it that his mom forced him to wear every holiday season, and black skinny jeans. 

     “Hey,” was all he said with a knowing smile, and you grinned. 

     “Hi.”

     “You’re up early,” Fred remarked, inching close to you so the only thing separating your body from his was the plant you were holding in between the two of you.

     “You are too.”

     “Funny coincidence.”

     “Yeah. You’d almost think you were trying to catch me alone,” you narrowed your eyes at him playfully, a smug smile tugging at the corner of your lips. 

     “Maybe, maybe not,” Fred played along. 

     “You’re a real joker, Fred Weasley.”

     “I know,” Fred agreed. “But I’d be a real Scrooge if I didn’t make one tiny little

improvement to this Christmas.”

     “And what’s that?” you chimed. 

Fred tapped his wand just above him, and lo and behold, a mistletoe flower appeared out of thin air, levitating above your heads. You looked up at it, holding your gaze on the plant for a few seconds before giggling, looking down at Fred who was smiling at you. 

     “Merry Christmas,” he remarked quietly, his brown eyes peering into yours, inching his head forward, spreading his warmth. 

     “Merry Christmas,” you practically whispered just in time for his lips to brush against yours, tilting your head forward to engulf him in a slow, sweet kiss under the mistletoe, the light shining in from the kitchen windows, a healthy amount of snow falling outside. 

His lips tasted like peppermint, and he smelled like mischief, but you wanted to hold him close. His sweater was scratchy and warm and thick, bristling against you. He was tender with you, his hands reaching up to roam your face, caressing your cheek and pulling you in closer to him by the small of your back, the petals of the flower in between you pressing against your chests. After a while, you pulled away, Fred’s cheeks red as ever, and your entire body on fire. You weren’t sure why you’d held back for so long, because now that you had a taste of him, you wanted more and more. When you pulled away, you blinked a bit, coming back down onto earth. When you and Fred met eyes again, you both giggled stupidly, clearly high off each other’s touch. 

     When you looked down at the plant, you noticed it had grown inches taller suddenly, and you looked down at it in bewilderment. It had done the same thing after you parted ways with Fred the night of the holiday party in the Gryffindor common room. 

Fred answered the question you were about to ask, 

     “It’s an Amorfluous flower. It’s meant to be given as a gift from one lover to another, so that each time we kiss, it grows.”

You were in awe of Fred. Not only had he managed to get you a gift that was extremely fitting for you, but he got you one that was even more sentimental than you had managed to realize. You were amazed, and you looked up at him awestruck, tears threatening to form in your eyes. 

He chuckled at the sight of you and hugged you close, careful of the flower,

     “Don’t cry!”

     “It’s- it’s just so lovely,” you sniffled, wiping away the tears from your eyes. “Thank you, thank you so much.”

Fred smirked,

     “You’ve made it up to me, the lack of a gift.”

You chuckled,

     “Good.”

     “Er… should we kiss again? For the flower, of course,” Fred suggested, nodding down at the flower. 

     “Yes, of course. For the flower,” you grinned knowingly and leaned in again, your lips uniting in a sweet kiss once more. 

[beskarberry]

Devil’s Advocate

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 5

(The Mandalorian x f!reader)

“That your girl over there?” Mando followed their gaze wordlessly, reluctant to make friends right now while he was busy waiting for you to call him back to your side. “Thought so.” The stranger took a long drag on an inhalant, blowing vibrant pink clouds into the smoky room. “Sorry for your loss, Elios always gets what he wants.” Mando turned again to the stranger, fixing them with his black hole glare, but they only shrugged; watching the drinking game unfold between you and the devil himself.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 11.2k whoops

Content warnings: VICES: gambling/smoking/drinking (reader drinks) Introduction of chapter-specific OC characters. Lots of angst to fluff, sexy times of course.

A/N: This might be more self indulgent than the first chapters but not because of the smut. I kinda go off about fancy clothes so long descriptions of costumes are a big chunk of this chapter.

<-Previous Next->

You hated everything about Canto Bight.

Everything about the city was so... artificial. The stadium flood lights, the glowing neon signs, even the ocean herself had been excavated from the planet’s stubborn sandstone surface instead of eroded naturally by the march of time. To you it was like looking at Corellia’s gold painted twin, a monument to the hubris of all sentient life.

 Even the patrons of the gilded city were fake; their clothes, their makeup, their personalities. Every aspect of them was perfectly curated to deceive and lie, whatever fanciful display would work best to cheat their way to the jackpot. You almost wished you could look past the falseness of it, experience the visual fanfare of light and color that reflected on every surface. You wanted the music and the art and the decor that had been so carefully picked and placed to mean something to you, to sparkle in your heart just as it sparkled in the eyes of the teeming masses. But, all for naught, the gleaming metropolis stung your eyes; and you turned away from it to admire the quaint little space that actually mattered to you.

 You shared the tight quarters of the cockpit with the two strange boys that had recently whisked you away to the stars. Mando was seated in the pilot's chair with his tiny green son perched in his lap, trying to get him to eat his dinner without making so much of a mess. You had already eaten, and you were turning the last hunter’s puck over in your hand, reluctant to get this chase started and take away from the familial scene beside you. It would have to happen sooner or later, and you gave the puck a squeeze to fire up the projector. A ghostly blue fog glowed up into the space above your palm, and the face that looked back at you was surprisingly fair; if not for his crimson skin and long black horns you wouldn’t have known he was Devaronian by his elegant features alone.

 Elios Blackwater was a dapper debonair, his high cheekbones angled sharply under devious eyes towards a sly, sharp toothed grin. The puck notes didn’t specify what he was wanted for, though from the looks of his charming smile and shifting eyes it could easily be anything from a gamblers quarrel to breaking hearts, with a higher reward for being returned alive rather than dead. He would most likely be in a heavily inhabited area, probably as close to Canto Bight’s aurelian heart as possible. You didn’t know why Mando had taken a bounty puck for such a densely populated world, and you would have loved to know what his plan was to get to the city’s casino center before you had arrived in his life. A pair of ragamuffin bounty hunters and their floating baby bucket would stick out like sore thumbs in this gilded mecca of gamblers. If you were going to get to your quarry without being arrested, you were going to have to blend in.

 “We’re going to have to do something about...this.” You said, waving your hand in front of your partner’s ferocious attire, though truthfully you weren’t dressed any more appropriately for the mission at hand. “They’ll see us coming a mile away.”

 He glanced down at himself with a tilt of his helmet, ignoring the mess his son was making of his meal. “What do you have in mind?”

 You weren’t entirely sure yet. From where the Crest was parked you could see the glittering city’s reflection sparkling on the water far ahead of you down the beach, a sight most would find alluring, but to you it was just harsh glare. Nearby where you had landed were other space craft parked up and down the gravelly, machine-carved beach; the pleasure cruisers of wealthy betters made your little scrapheap look even worse than it already did. You watched out the cockpit’s transperisteel window, noting the movement of patrons and their attending droids loading skiffs with piles of luggage, and got yourself a mighty fine idea.

"I think so, but you're probably not going to like it. Stay here." You rose from your seat and kissed the baby on the head, earning yourself a soft, mush-mouthed chirp before you slid down the ladder and let yourself out of the old rust bucket and into the salty sea air of the Cantonican night. Gravel crunched under your boots, and you took a moment to turn and glance back at the Crest, catching the faintest flicker of scope glare where Mando was nervously watching you from the flight deck. Ahead of you a large cruiser was being unloaded by droids, the owners having long since made their way to the casinos, and you made yourself known to the robotic servants with your most charming damsel-in-distress voice.

"Hello! Excuse me! My luggage is too heavy to carry, can you help me? It's just over here on my ship..." The droid nearest you made a stiff bowing motion and tottered after you with the loaded hoverskiff floating along behind. You guided the droid up the open ramp and into the bowels of the ship to where your difficult luggage lay. It never stood a chance, bits of wire and duraplast flew across the cabin like confetti from the blaster shot to its head. Mando lowered his gun back to his holster, freeing his hands to help you haul the skiff into the narrow cabin space, then quickly close the ramp behind you.

The sled took up most of the walking space in the ship, so you got up on top of it and began looting through the stolen designer bags, pulling resplendent finery out into the hazy light. The first tote was full of piles of silk sewn for something with more arms than the two of you put together, so most of those items were tossed to the floor. The second bag was just capes, each a unique and lovely pattern, but nothing more. You demolished the remaining bags, making piles on the floor for ‘maybes’ and ‘definitely-nots’ until you found what you were looking for: a humanoid woman’s clothes.

Most of the unknown lady’s elegant garments would be just slightly too big on you, but you were able to settle on a soft, garnet colored evening gown that would go just above your knees, with extra length in the back. It had a sloping neckline that plunged at your cleavage, and around the bell of the skirt were silver rhinestones that caught the light of the cabin like dewdrops, the weight of them giving the dress a wistful sway. You wouldn't be able to carry much in such a revealing article, but a blaster and a knife alone had gotten you out of more trouble than you would care to admit.

You were fishing through the feminine things for something to do about your hair when you caught Mando in the corner of your eye. He was leaning against the hull wall, just watching you as you made a fat mess of the Razor's interior. You smiled down at him from your floating perch and held up the fanciful garment that you had picked out for him to see. "You like it?"

"It doesn't suit you, mesh’la." He said with a lazy tilt of his helmet. You had begun to mentally keep track of all the Mando’a he used around you, and you were starting to notice his frequent use of affectionates. You spun slightly so he could get a good look at how the fabric moved in the light, but the hunter gear you currently had on took away from the loveliness of the expensive clothes. You guessed he preferred your killer garb anyway over the flimsy, delicate fabric. Or nothing at all.

"Well, it’ll have to do, and if you don't start picking something out for yourself I’m going to dress you up like a dandy.”

He sighed, long and tired before turning his attention to the silken pile on the floor. You went back to the luggage, finding some knee high boots that were close enough to your size, but had a heel height that was going to make your ankles cry. You picked out some tasteless accessories: some bracelets, and big, jewel-encrusted hair pins to wear as well. The glitzier that you were, the less you would be noticed in this bass-ackward town. When you had made your frivolous selections you hopped off the skiff to help Mando with his costume. He was worse at finding something to wear than you were, having only picked out some of his own black leather gloves and two pairs of pants that were not made for human legs. Mandalorian armor did not come off as far as your metal man was concerned, and you were going to have to find a way to hide his bulk. You convinced him to lose his cloak, chest belts, and the bandoliers on his hips and boots, anything to lighten the load. Loose silks and stiff fiber combos would be your best friend, and you cobbled together what you could for your beskar-burdened buddy.

After what seemed like an eternity you had him dressed to the nines, or at least the eights. You had covered his chest plate in a black silk shirt and stiff black vest. The shirt had wide bottomed sleeves and neat, tight cuffs that hid his vambraces well, but you still made him wear a cinched-waist blazer plus a long, black and silver cape that almost reached the floor. You found a dark red pocket square that matched your dress and tucked it into the pocket of his vest, a subtle, but unmistakable announcement to the world that he was there with you. It was a ridiculous amount of fabric on top of an already massive mountain of metal, but the look was very in-style for Canto Bight. All together he actually passed for something besides a murder machine, and you gave yourself a mental pat on the back for a job well done. Mando held still for you while you fussed with his outfit with only the occasional huff. As much as he didn't like the idea of walking so boldly through the gilded city, he did enjoy your brazen touch each time you added another article of clothing.

“And now for the finishing touch.” There was nothing you could do about his helmet, so you were just going to have to make it look as nice as you could. You hadn’t changed into your chosen disguise yet, so you strode through the messy cabin with ease until you reached the lock box next to the cot. Inside you found the krayt’s teeth that you had gifted him and pulled them out into the light, waving them at him as you stretched over the heaps of fabric on the ground. He raised his hands in protest.

“What if I lose them?”

“You can wear these or you can wear whatever the hell this is.” You held up an enormous chain of jewels that looked like it belonged in the treasure case at an arcade instead of around somebody's neck. “Besides, I know you won't lose them, you like them too much.” He tilted his helmet at you with disdain, and you realized that was precisely the reason he didn’t want to wear them, such lovely gifts should be kept safe and secure. But he let you press the precious trinkets into the recess of his helmet where his human cheeks would be anyway. The frozen pools of moonlight tied everything about his sin-city look into a perfect, glittery bow. You had grown to admire the look of him in his cultural armor, the ferocity of it, the utility and strength of the beskar that shined no matter how much damage it took; and you were a bit sad to see it hidden. The look of the man standing before you had a wildly different feel, though it was not one you were opposed to.

“You look nice, Din.” The sound of his own name coming from your lips made his heart swell, and he reached out for your hand on instinct to pull your knuckles to his brow in the sweet gesture of his people that you both now used. His movements caused the finery he was masquerading in to catch the cabin’s hazy light, and you got excited to put on your own costume and join him in looking like a fool. When he let your hand fall, you bounded over to your pile, throwing the hunting clothes off of yourself as you went. When you were standing there in nothing but your Tattooinian muck boots you cast a sly glance over your shoulder. As expected, the single black eye of your Mandalorian was locked on your almost-naked form, and you realized that in the time you had been together he had never seen you fully naked; just the parts of you he needed to get to in the moment. “How’s this? You like this better?”

When he didn’t answer right away you looked down at yourself and saw what he was staring at. You had forgotten about the marks of conquest he had put there when he had been driven to a sexual frenzy by the last quarry’s poison, still dotting your thighs with dark purple splotches. Not once had you been upset with him for his actions, you were just thankful you both made it through the ordeal alive, but he still looked at the damning marks with shame. He had been forced to break his protector’s oath against his will, inflicting injury to your precious body with his own two hands. You waited until his visor made its way back up to meet your eyes, and you reached out for him to give you his hand. He sheepishly obeyed, and you brought his hand to your lips, kissing at the all-black leather slowly until you heard him sigh through his modulator. You would forgive him a hundred times if you had to, and then a hundred more if it meant he could forgive himself. You pulled his hands to your waist and leaned up against him, enjoying the feel of new clothes on your skin and letting your hands run up his silken arms. “Well you can have this,” You nodded down at your bare everything with a mischievous grin, “As soon as we catch this fucko.” 

This was the last bounty you would need before you made the trip back to Nevarro, but you were still on the fence about how completing your mission made you feel. On one hand you would be free of the Guild’s relentless hunters, but on the other your partnership with the strange metal man and his adorable beanbag of a son would come to a close. You turned back to your outfit and began cinching a pair of thigh holsters to your legs, hiding your wincing face as the leather closed around your bruises; a blaster on one leg and a knife on the other. You pulled on the dress and fixed up your hair as best you could, then stepped out of your good boots and into the slutty knee-highs. There was only one loose end to take care of.

 “Where’s baby?” You glanced around the messy cabin, looking for your foundling. In the corner under a pile of capes there was movement, and you cleared the flashy finery away to reveal your bestest little friend. Big, glittering orbs looked up at you from the pile of fabric, and a tiny toothy grin shined from his cute baby face. “Heya booger, you ready to go?” You scooped him up in your arms for a hug before picking a big shiny scarf up to wrap him up with, then placed him carefully down in one of the gaudy designer bags. “If anyone asks, he is a pet.” The child didn’t seem to care, he was just happy to be included, waving his little pudgy baby hands up at you to hold. You squeezed his tiny paw, then turned to Mando, “You ready to go, Lord Beskar?”

He glanced down at himself, tilting his palms up and shrugging. “I guess so, I feel ridiculous.”

“Good enough!” You made for the exit ramp with a big stride, and almost broke your damn ankle on the first step, falling gracelessly into the arms of your partner. He caught you with ease, and your cheeks went red with his strong, gentle hands on you again for the hundredth time. You got to your feet, but you would be leaning heavily on him for most of the night until the boots were broken in. With you hanging off of his arm the two of you looked like a proper couple, just heading out for a night on the town instead of two bloodthirsty bounty hunters on the prowl. You might let yourself pretend though, just for the night.

You took a transport speeder from the beach to the city’s entrance, then made your way through the gilded streets, following the red blink of the bounty fob towards your quarry. You had to stop multiple times, the fucking boots making your feet hurt like you knew they would. Mando stood patiently with you each time, and more than once offered to just carry you. His visor would glide from side to side, always on the alert for anyone that might be following you, or worse, hunting you down. The tracking fob led you to the most obvious choice of casino: the tallest, brightest, shiniest temple of vice smack dab in the city’s center. 

The front entryway was dominated by a roaring, gushing fountain, shooting geysers in a perfectly timed pattern high into the Cantonican night sky. The fountain was lit up with bright, multicolored spotlights so that every stream of water and drop of spray glittered back in defiance of the stars that had inspired them. Inside, the casino floor was packed with patrons, ranging in size and species in an infinite array of wealth and power. Chandeliers hung high above you from the soaring cathedral ceilings, sending sparkling lights racing around the endless room like shooting stars. Every surface was bright and gleaming, dozens of pillars and statues illuminated by blinding limelight. Even the floor was magnificent, black and white marble with huge inlaid stars, guiding gamblers through the limitless space towards their wildest desires. Again you wished you could appreciate the extravagance of it all, though the way the lights streamed like mercury over the beskar of your pretend date made something else sparkle behind your eyes. 

 The smell of inhalants and alcohol burned in your nose, and you took a moment to make sure your purse puppy’s face was covered with something so he wouldn’t have to endure it as much as you were. The sound of gamblers and music and roaring competition was louder than the screams of the hyperspace engine aboard the Crest, the cacophony of it all making you anxious. You were thankful that you weren’t hunting this bounty alone, and you still held on to Mando tightly, letting him lead you over the cosmic marble floor through the streaming masses. The people paid you no mind, moving out of the way without casting a second glance. Your costumes were working exactly as you had intended, and you applauded yourself for how well you had deceived the City of Lies.

You had guessed that if your bounty would be anywhere, it would be at the center of attention, and you were right. Elios Blackwater sat at the atrium bar, surrounded by beautiful and interesting people. The glint of gold jewelry caught the radiant casino lights every time he moved, drawing the eyes of all those around him. He was telling some kind of wild story that had his little crowd hooked on every word, though you could tell from a distance he was all bullshit. Immediately you knew this was a man that was used to having everything he desired, never being denied a single whim in all his days. A plan began to simmer in your skull, and you knew right away your partner was not going to like it. If you were going to get the quarry alone, you were going to have to persuade him to leave the company of his fans, and you only knew one sure-fire method for a man of Blackwater’s tastes. You let yourself off of your escorts’ arm to turn and face him, pulling his hands to your hips and letting your own rest on his shoulders so that to any outsiders you two would be just another pair of passionate dancers making their way through the counterfeit cosmos. 

“Mando, do you trust me?” His hidden eyes were still glancing around the room, scanning for any lurking threats.

“Of course.” His words went right over your head, his ears too full of the sounds of potential danger to really hear you. You huffed and ran your hands to his bedazzled helmet, pulling it down to meet your eyes. 

“Pay attention, bucket boy. I need to hear you say it and know that you mean it. Do you trust me?”  He cocked his head, confused that you would have to ask twice. 

“Yes, ner cyar’ika, I trust you.”

“Good.” You let your hands fall back to his armored shoulders, pressing yourself up against him tighter. Your fingers fidgeted in the heavy material of his cloak, he was going to hate this. “Because I need to do something. Alone.” 

That got his attention fast. 

“No, it’s too dangerous here. I want you where I can protect you. What if there’s hunters?”

“I know, I need you to cover me, but from a distance. I think I can convince Elios to walk right into the carbonite freezer, but I can’t do it with you looming over me.” You wrapped your hands around the back of his helmet, pulling him down so that his forehead met with yours. “I wouldn’t ask you to do this if I didn’t think it would work.” He sighed between your hands, the steam of his breath slipping out from under the helmet’s edge. There was nothing he would rather not do than be away from you, but he did trust you, and he nodded against your embrace.

“I’ll call for you as soon as I’m ready, ok? Just keep your eyes on me, and don’t cause a scene. No matter what.” You couldn’t kiss him like you wanted to, but you still pressed your lips to the side of his beskar before letting go, pulling yourself away from his tender grasp. His hands still floated in the space where you had been as you turned away from him and made your way to the bar, the heavy purse bumping against your weaponized thighs with every flint and tinder step of your sky high heels. As you got closer to the bounty you could hear the shreds of his conversation starting to make their way over the noise of the casino.

“...And I said ‘Darlin’ if you didn’t want to take it home with you, ya shouldn’t have put it in your mouth!” The way he was telling his story gave you the impression that it wasn’t one you wanted to hear, and you started to regret your foolhardy plan. Gold rings and precious jewels sparkled all the way from his fingers to the caps on his horns, making it impossible for most to look away, a fact made apparent by his captivated audience. The beautiful boozers laughed and cheered at his every word, though from his stupidass sounding story you wondered how much of the affection was alcohol induced. You pulled a seat up at the bar a few stools away from the crowd and ordered yourself a shot of spotchka and a couple packs of cookies. You slipped the snacks into your bag for Din’s foundling, you would be needing him for your plan to work as well; and the promise of treats would keep his bright-eyed attention on you. 

The taste of spotchka was vile, but you had started your journey though the galaxy on the gigantic starcruisers that were built on your homeworld of Corellia, and you had gotten to know the taste of the sailor-favorite drink at a tender age. You sipped at your brew, listening casually to the Devaronian’s conversation, but never turned your eyes to him. Every once in a while another bar patron would swagger up beside you to offer you another shot. You turned down anything you didn’t order yourself, but you started telling them fabricated stories about your life among the stars, most of which were wild tales of fancy from old holovids you had seen. You wished you could turn around and find your favorite rust bucket, wherever he may be hiding among the festivities, and give him something to reassure him. A nod or a wave, anything to let him know you weren’t just making him jealous on purpose. 

Soon you were throwing back brightly glowing shots of brew, and a handful of interested patrons had gathered around you to hear about how you had jerry-rigged a star cruiser to run on spotchka when you were a space pirate smuggling kyber crystals for the resistance, among other things. When you had your head tilted back you cast a glance towards the bounty, and saw what you had been waiting for. His hooded eyes were watching you intently, he didn’t like that someone was getting any of the attention pie that he believed was his alone, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he had to do something about it. Soon enough the dapper devil rose from his entourage, running a painted claw through his long dark hair before making his way to you, sauntering with every step.

Hook.

“Well hello there, darlin’, name’s Elios. What’s a pretty little thing like you doing chugging spotchka when you could be drinkin’ something as fine as you are?” The debonair’s words were long and slow, making sure that every drawn syllable would be heard. “Bartender! Get this lovely lady a real drink, if ya please.” You weren’t sure what counted as a ‘real drink’, but the dark liquid that was slid over to you stank even worse than spotchka with the strength of its proof. Elios couldn’t stand that someone else might be having more fun than he was, and he was determined to put you out of commission. He wanted to do it in such a way that you would be thanking him for it, preferably while on your knees. “What’s yer name, baby cakes?”

From the other side of the busy casino you could feel the void of a visor making the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. Mando was standing on the far side of the slot machines where the light was just a little less glaring, so motionless he might have been part of the decorations. He wasn’t sure what your plan was, or how you would talk the quarry into being captured without gaining the suspicion of the wandering security enforcers. He bristled whenever a bar patron started trying to make nice with you, and only got progressively more frustrated when more and more started hanging around you. When he saw the bounty slink his way over to you he wanted to dash across the marble floor and break his fucking neck just for being in your airspace. ‘Don’t make a scene, no matter what’ is what you had told him, and you had asked him to trust you. So he did as he was asked. Watching, waiting.

“Hmm, I don’t think you could handle it.” Oh, Elios didn’t like that one bit, nobody told Mr. Blackwater ‘no’ without consequences. He swirled a glass of the same dark liquid around in one perfectly manicured hand, his polished claws clicking on the side of the glass. You continued to ignore him, but you started on the new drink in front of you. Yucky, at least spotchka was familiar. He took your acceptance of the drink as an invitation to join you at the bar. 

“You’re awful sly, baby cakes, tell me yer name so I can make you forget it later.” His pointed teeth flashed out from his crooked smile, and you could smell the stench of expensive cologne and aftershave. You rolled your eyes big and wide so he could see just how unimpressed you were, but your nose was burning from how bad he smelled. This was a bad idea, but only because of how well it was going to work. Fresher soap, where are you?

“I’ll tell you what, if you can out-drink me, I’ll tell you my name.” His wicked smile split his face, showing off rows of brilliant white fangs. Party-boy could probably hold a few good shots, but you were raised by sailors, and you were gonna drink his ass under the table. 

“You’re on, sweet cheeks. Bartender! Another round!” Another set of shot glasses plinked to the counter, and vanished just as fast. Elios was eyeing you up and down, seeing if you were all bark and no bite. If he could just get you drunk enough…

Far from where you were drinking the Mandalorian you had asked to trust in you was furious, trying not to thumb the handle of his blaster that poked out from the side of his hip under his cloak. It would be so easy, he could hit the target from here and it would be over, you would be back by his side and not being drooled over by that fucking pathetic excuse for a man. 

“He has that effect on people.”

Mando’s helmet snapped on the sounds’ source, so lost in vicious thoughts that he didn’t hear the stranger come to lean against the wall by him. They were tall and thin, translucent green skin and a mop of hair-like cilia growing from their head to their flowy chiffon clothes. They looked exhausted. “That your girl over there?” Mando followed their gaze wordlessly, reluctant to make friends right now while he was busy waiting for you to call him back to your side. “Thought so.” The stranger took a long drag on an inhalant, blowing vibrant pink clouds into the smoky room. “Sorry for your loss, Elios always gets what he wants.” Mando turned again to the stranger, fixing them with his black hole glare, but they only shrugged; watching the drinking game unfold between you and the devil himself. 

“Another!” You hollered, but the glasses were already in front of you, then gone again. The Devaronian hissed back the sting of the high-dollar liquor, shaking his long mane that had started to come undone. You pretended to reel from the liquor's effects, leaning back just a tad too far on your seat. “Again!” The third round of shots came and went, and Elios nearly fell off his stool. Right where I want you. You waved at the bartender for the fourth and final shot that would probably put the devil right on his ass, but that’s not where you were headed with this show of tenacity. You had to get him alone before you made your capture, or the security enforcers that littered the casino floor would descend on you like vultures. 

You waited til he had thrown his drink back before you tilted yours, purposely spilling a few drops down your front so the booze would trickle down between your breasts. Elios nearly choked, and you knew you had his full, undivided attention. Din, I’m so sorry.

“Woo! I don’t think I can do any more, Mister Blackwater, you win.” you feigned, holding the back of your hand up to your forehead, trying to convince him that the room was spinning for both of you and not just him. His sultry laugh made your skin crawl.

“Please, call me Elios.”

Line.

“Well, Elios, you still wanna know my name? You’re gonna have to work for it.” You placed a hand on his leg, running your fingers up his thigh and around the edge of his waist, pulling at his pockets seductively to drive the point home. Does he have SCALES? What the fuck ew ew ew. He took the hint like a drunk takes to spotchka, flashing you a slurred smile. 

“Well… sugar lips, we can take this... elsewhere.” 

“Sure thing, Elios, lemme just have my attendant take my Poochie up to my room.” You held the heavy purse up so he could see the big black eyes hiding in its depths. 

“What the fuck is that thing?”

“He’s a pet, obviously.”

“What kind’a fuckin’ pet?”

“Purebred.” Your quick answer seemed good enough for Mr. Drinky, and he nodded like that made perfect sense. You raised your fist to the air and snapped your fingers.

The human fortress was at your side in a heartbeat, towering above the two of you. You stuffed the purse in his hands before he could ask where to point his gun. “Here, take Poochums up to my room, mama’s not coming home tonight, if y’know what I mean. Get him washed and fed, and don’t forget to scrub his feet!” 

“Yes Ma’am.” The bag was lifted carefully from your fake-drunk hands, and you tried to flash him your best ‘Please-don’t-be-mad-at-me-I-hate-this-too’ face at your partner, but you guessed the look was lost on his visor. The scene did not escape Elios’s eyes like you had hoped it would. 

“Now what in the Mmmmaker’s Mammaries is that big ass fuckin’ thing? That some kinda droid? It’s damn fancy.” Shit balls of hell.

“Uh.. Yes! This is the finest in personal assistant droid technology! See, look.” You grabbed Mando’s empty arm and pulled back sharply on the fabric, revealing the delicate button panel of his vambrace. “Only the best money could buy...” 

“I gotta get me one of those...” Elios stared bewildered as your personal petsitting droid turned and left. “Well, honey tits, you wanna take this upstairs?” Ugh.

“Oh suurrre… Oh Mr. Blackwater I’m ~soooo~ drunk ahaha…” You were barely buzzed, and you worried that your life among the stars had given your liver bigger balls than a bounty hunter. You wobbled on your stool, for phase two of your plan to work you would have to delay Elios as long as possible. You watched as the man whose heart you had stolen faded away from you, the fancy purse hooped over his shoulder and knocking up against his leg, cape billowing behind him as he went. Alright, Baby Beans, it’s up to you now!

Din was seething under his helmet, pissed as shit that this was what your elaborate ‘plan’ entailed. He was trying not to storm through the casino as he left to take your ‘Poochums’ up to your room, whatever the hell that fucking meant. How could he be so fucking stupid? This was exactly the same ruse you had tried to pull on him from day one. Seduction was your real talent, luring your lovers to their untimely demise. How many times had you pulled this stunt? Was this your master plan all along? Ouch. Play with his heart until you were free of your Guild warrant? Ow. You were just using him to get to Nevarro, then you would fuck off to the stars and leave him behind. After everything you had been through, he was just another notch on your bedp- 

“OUCH!” 

Din looked down to his side where the pain he was trying to ignore was coming from, and saw a fat green paw sticking out of the ugly expensive purse, digging vicious talons into the side of his leg. His foundling was trying to burrow through his thigh, and his claws might actually have drawn blood. “What, womp rat? What do you want?” There was something in the baby’s other hand, something golden and flashy. Din reached into the bag and pulled the embossed card from his son’s grasp. What’s this? There was a set of numbers etched in gold filigree in the top of the card, their shimmer blasting away the destructive void he had been spiraling into.

Key card! PENTHOUSE key card! You had tricked the bounty into getting close enough to you that you could pick his pocket without him noticing. You were luring Elios right into a trap, and your Mandalorian was the snare. Din felt a mix of emotion ranging from relief to shame, how could he even think for one second that you might be deceiving him? You had asked him to trust you, and he couldn’t even contain his jealousy long enough to make it through one hunt. He felt like such an ass, you were putting your skills to good use, at great risk to your own safety, just like he had asked you to from the beginning. This wasn’t just his hunt anymore, it was a joint effort between the two of you, and it was his turn to run the next leg of the relay. The heavy, silver-laced cloak was tossed to the side as he raced to the elevator, fluttering away behind him as he flew to beat you there.

Meanwhile, you were trying to keep the bounty from falling flat on his face, and the only way to do that was to hold him up yourself. His hands were all over you, the nick of sharp, neat claws catching on the fabric of your evening dress and scratching along your skin. I’m gonna break those fingers, motherfucker. He was slurring his words, making disgusting promises of what he was gonna do to you when you reached his private penthouse. You were just out of range of his boozehole, the lippy thing trying to steal a taste of you. Wobbly steps slowed you both down to almost a crawl, which was exactly what you were trying to do, anything to give Mando time to find the hotel room first. You passed a discarded cloak on the floor, the familiar silver inlay catching the light, and you worried that you might have pushed your partner too far. What if he left? What if he didn’t see the keycard and I’m heading up alone? Please be there, Din. Please don’t leave me with this fucking creep. You both reached the elevator, and Elios fumbled to find his wallet, thankfully having a spare key that he didn’t know he needed. The doors opened, and you realized you would be stuck in your own personal hell for the entire trip up to the top floor suite. Fucking super. 

Elios was getting impatient during the ride up, and it took every fiber of your being to keep from retching as his well-moisturized hands ran up and down your spine. The elevator door opened directly into the penthouse, and his perfectly manicured claws dug into your ass to usher you into the room. The top floor suite was dark, save for the lights of Canto Bight shining in through the cathedral windows. You took a mental note of the speeder parked out on the balcony, you would be needing it later. The Devaronian was at your ear, breathing hot, boozy steam around your neck until he was facing you. He went to bite at your mouth, but you stopped him with a finger to his lips.

"I wouldn't do that, if I were you." You whispered in your most convincing lust-laden voice. The devil chuckled and ran his slimy, forked tongue around the halting digit. Barf.

"Oh yeah, baby cakes? Why’s that?"

You batted your eyelashes and bit your lip into a wry smile before meeting his half-lidded eyes. "Because... you're going to make Daddy very angry."

His lips turned upwards in an aroused sneer, flashing his dazzling, daggerlike teeth, "How could getting a taste of that fiery little mouth’a yours make me angry, darlin’?"

Sinker.

"I'm not talking about you, I'm talking about him."

Elios didn't even have a chance to turn around to see where your eyes were looking before a black and silver fist broke his nose and sent his perfect teeth soaring across the room, throwing him down to the marble floor. Seeing his busted prettyboy face bleeding at your feet made you feel so relieved that a vicious shiver made its way from your head to your toes, and you let your body shake the devil’s touch off of you like a big wet bantha.

"Fuck! Oh fucking hell, Mando, you have -no idea- how hard it was to keep that up, he’s so gross! I’m gonna chuck his ass in carbonite so fucking hard his horns’ll break off!" Your partner was still squared up, just waiting for the interloper to try and get up and fight. He wanted the bounty to get up, flail, scream, any excuse to hit him again. But Blackwater was out cold, staining the white marble floor with his blood.

"You looked like you were handling it."

The deadpan tone of his voice told you that wasn't exactly a compliment, remembering the jealousy that had seethed out of him on Tatooine after that Trandoshan had tried to capture you. You had two choices: you could either try to defend yourself and your unconventional bounty catching method, or you could turn that jealousy in your favor. He didn’t remember much from his toxic encounter with the Ardennian, but you knew that every filthy, possessive thing he had said to you that night was still somewhere in that chrome dome of his; and you became determined to bring them to the light. You crossed one arm over your chest, raising the other to tap a finger against the corner of your lips.

"Oh? You didn't like that, did you? Didn't like that he had his hands on me? Touching things that don’t belong to him?" He didn't answer, but the creaking of leather from his fists tightening told you what you already knew. "Tell me, Mando."

"N-no." His visor remained fixed on the unconscious body still bleeding on the floor. Not good enough.

"No what?"

"No. I didn't like that." His voice was low and raspy, but only because he was trying to keep the boiling rage in his chest from blowing his fucking helmet off.

"Tell me what you didn't like." You stepped over the quarry to your man, running your fingers from his balled fists over his silk and steel arms until you were at his shoulders. You could feel the slightest shudder under all his layers at your touch.

"I didn't like him touching you. Nobody should put their hands on you, cyar'ika" His fists lowered to his sides but his visor was still on the floor. You let your hands wander up his neck to the bejeweled recesses of his helmet and turned him to meet your eyes.

"Why not?"

"B-because..."

"I want to hear you say it."

"Because you are mine." He growled through his helmet so hard that you swore you saw it vibrate, sending a delicious tingle though your spine. Atta boy.

“Again.”

“You are mine!” Even behind the beskar you could hear the clench of his teeth biting back deeper desires. His hands went to your waist, pulling you tightly to his chest. The fire coming off of him was scalding, you had pushed your luck too far with this one, and you could feel the volcano inside his ribcage boiling over. He was furious. His heavy armored head pushed against your brow, and you let your thumbs wrap around the bottom of his helmet to find the thinnest sliver of skin where the metal met the man.

“That’s right, I’m all yours.” When you had said that line to him the first time, you had been plotting your escape from his clutches, but as the reassuring words left your lips you knew there was nobody else in the galaxy you would have running their hands up your sides; and you mentally crossed ‘seduction’ off of your list of hunting skills for good. His oath of me'dinuir had swore him to your side alone, and now you knew without a shred of doubt that you wanted it to go both ways; whether you were Mandalorian or not.

You kissed at the bottom of his visor, so close to getting to feel the true, living flesh of him, and yet so far. You had to have him, you had to purge the demon’s touch from your body with the purifying fire of your protector’s rage. A choked, needy groan made its way out of the modulator, and you felt the heat of his breath on your skin. How desperately you wanted to taste it, fill your mouth with the flavor of him to replace the vile spotchka. You pushed up on his jaw, giving you just a tiny glance at his scruffy chin, and you forced your kisses into the tight, unyielding space of the beskar prison. It wasn’t enough for you, but it was a start, and you could feel his body starting to unwind at your touch. “Kiss me. Please, Mando.”

“Cyar'ika, it's not safe here.” He hated the sound of his own words, the denial of them crushing his very soul. You glanced around the dark penthouse and saw you were alone save for the crumpled devil on the floor and the designer purse that had been stashed in the corner of the room, its occupant still working on the bags of cookies. No eyes on us.

“I won’t look, just... lift your helmet a tiny bit, tin man, I need you, I need to kiss you.” You guessed you were safe enough from prying eyes, but you wouldn’t spill his name to the night just in case there were any sneaky listeners. You squeezed your own eyes shut and nipped at the armors edge again, and just ever-so-slightly began to push up on the unforgiving metal with your thumbs. You were just waiting for his hands to shoot up, to grab your wrists and halt your actions, but they were locked to your sides. Inch by inch you gradually lifted the armor, he would have all the time in the world to stop you, but when you felt the heat of his lips crash against yours you almost let your knees buckle out from under you. His strong arms were tight on your back, pulling you into him so he could kiss you harder.

So much better than spotchka. He was delicious, his taste, his feel, his scent, everything about him was intoxicating. So much more so than the despicable brew you had been throwing back all night, and a thousand times better than anything Elios could have offered. Blech. You realized then why the bounty had smelled so bad to you, though his perfume was expensive and his clothes freshly pressed, he was wrong for you. The wrongness was so overwhelming that it had nearly made you lose your drink, and you didn’t realize how wrong something could be until you tried to compare it to what was right. Din was right, he smelled of leather and beskar and the sweat of a man that had nearly combusted when someone else was at your side. And fresher soap! Thank the Maker.

A soft leather hand went to your head, pulling you into him so he could taste you better. His tongue ran over your lips, darting into you to find yours so they could dance together. You bit him playfully, and the way his breath hitched in his throat sent the fire of your core shooting all the way to your fingertips; and you knew right then that not even kissing his forbidden face would be enough for you. You pulled yourself from his lips, the snap of teeth following your retreat, reluctant to let you leave from the heat of the moment. Carefully, you let the beskar slide back down to cover him, and the anguished whine he let out into the night air almost broke your heart.

“I know, I know, I’m so mean to you, aren’t I?” With him covered you glanced around the room until you saw the private bar. With your thumbs hooked in the pockets of his borrowed vest you guided the two of you towards it until the granite countertop knocked against your ass. You used his shoulders for leverage, hopping up onto the cold surface and wrapping your knees round his waist, happy to find exactly what you were expecting to throbbing between your legs. He pushed himself against you, the feel of his stolen silks on your holstered thighs giving you goosebumps. His heavy metal head fell against your shoulder, and you wrapped your arms around him to hold him close while he ground up against your heat. He couldn’t contain himself around you, though you wouldn’t want him to if he could. You rocked your hips in time with his needy thrusts, and the growls in your ear almost made you think he would come undone with his pants still on. Can’t have that now, can we? "Mando, please fuck me, I can't wait anymore."

You heard thunder rumble out of his chest, sending electricity from where he was pressed to your shoulder straight down to where he was pulsing against your core. He was going to bring you the stars, alright, but not the ones in the night sky. He pulled back so he could look into your eyes from behind his visor, bringing a hand up to caress your pleading face.

"No, I don't want to fuck you." Your eyes shot wide, shocked that he wouldn't want you when he was rutting so hard into you that you could almost feel the dampness of precum through his layers. He saw your face and shook his head. "Elios wanted to fuck you, all of those creeps at the bar wanted to fuck you.” His helmet shook, trying to loosen the words he wanted to say. “No... I- I want to be better than them, I want to give you something else, s-something more.” He was struggling, his inexperience making it difficult to say what was on his mind. All he knew was that he didn’t want to be like them, he wanted to be worthy of you in ways they never could.

“Then make love to me instead.”

 “Yes!” The words leaving your lips were like music to his ears, so much more lovely than any song. “I want to do that! I want to make love to you, cyar’ika, if you’ll have me?”

You laughed, nodding your head to hide your bright red cheeks. How he managed to be so ferocious and so sweet on the same day was a mystery you didn’t want to solve. He quickly glanced around the room one more time just to be sure you were alone, the light of the gilded city sending streaks of color over the charms you had pressed to his cheeks. Satisfied that you were the only ones awake in the room, he leaned away from you to rip the constricting blazer off of himself so hard the fabric around his chest and shoulders started to tear. Beskar plates twinkled in the limelight, sending stars flying around the room while he worked his pants open. The sight of him springing into view made your heart flutter, among other things. Long and strong, a pearl of precum glimmering in the dark of the penthouse. His hands went to your legs, the leather of his palms snagging on the straps still belted to your thighs as he pushed the elegant fabric of your dress up to your waist. 

“You’re soaked.” You wished you could see what he saw through his visor, the sound of hitched breath telling you he could see you blooming for him clear as day, drinking you in with his hidden eyes. He hooked a thumb in the wet fabric of your panties to pull them out of the way, using his other hand to grip his cock and run the tip over your entrance, bumping against your clit while he lubed himself with your slick. You had to lean back until you were laying on the cold granite countertop, tilting your hips to the edge of the bar so he could see all of you on display. He pressed himself up and in, filling you slowly so he could indulge in every inch that disappeared inside. Your stretched walls clenched around him, making him shiver with each coiled squeeze. The Mandalorian you were giving yourself to pulled himself out of you carefully before thrusting back into you again, fighting every animalistic urge to just plow you into the bar. He was going to make good on his word, he wasn’t going to just fuck you.

But maybe he should have.

“Bing!” 

The penthouse elevator door chimed, and both of you pointed blasters on the figure that walked out from the pink haze of the lift into the dark of the room. “Elios? I know you’re up here, I’m just going to get- Oh. There you are.” The stranger spotted the crumpled, unconscious body on the floor, crossing the room until they stood over him. “About time someone split that beautiful lip of yours, Lee-lo.” The stranger that Mando had run into on the casino floor turned their tired eyes to the pair of you, noticing your obvious state of passion. “Oh please, don’t stop on my account, that’s not the worst thing I’ve walked into up here.” They squinted in the dark, then gasped softly, “Wait, it’s you! Oh good! I saw you when you were dancing and was just heartbroken when Lee-lo came between you.” The tall stranger did a little dance. “Fucking Elios.” They kicked at the Devaronian on the floor, “All he lives for is breaking hearts. I’m glad you two made up.”

The wisp of a stranger bent down to the motionless figure on the floor, yanking one of the gold rings from his horns. They said something too low for you to hear, then got up and left in another cloud of pink smoke, the elevator door closing behind them.

You both lowered your blasters, trying to wrap your collective heads around what had just happened. Mando was still buried to the hilt inside you, and you could feel him pulsing with need; but he had been right from the beginning. You weren’t safe here.

“That’s probably not the only spare key. We should go.” You whispered, trying to get your blaster back to its holster under your dress. He groaned, he was getting sick of being torn away from you. He pulled himself almost all the way out, thrust in one more time for good luck, and released himself with a pop! He pulled you to your feet, helping you down from the bar and onto the Maker-forsaken boots you still had on. Fuck these. You ripped the boots off, chucking them somewhere into the dark and crossed the room barefoot to where the oversized purse held the foundling. You were happy to see him all tuckered out in a pile of cookie wrappers, probably not the healthiest thing for him, but it worked. Behind you, your armored companion was hauling the quarry over his shoulder none too gently, ‘accidentally’ knocking his bloody head against the wall as he turned back to you. You both made for the balcony door to the speeder you had noticed earlier, tossing the bounty in the back seat like a bag of garbage. 

The ride back to the Crest was thick with anticipation, you weren't finished with each other just yet. Mando pulled the speeder right up to the ramp so you wouldn’t have to walk across sharp gravel, chucking the bounty in after you so hard he slid through the messy cabin and smashed into the wall. You slung the damned devil into the carbonite chamber, punching the freeze button with gusto. The ramp closed behind your armored companion, barely giving you a chance to get up onto the hoverskiff that still dominated the cabin floor before the lights went off. You yanked the dress over your head, listening for the sound of more fabric hitting the floor, then the clanking of beskar being tossed carelessly aside. Belts and snaps and zippers went flying, and you had to try not to laugh at the absurd amount of clothes he had to take off. The skiff tilted with new weight, and the body of a Mandalorian was on top of you, warm lips hunting for yours.

He’s naked! Every piece of armor and shred of clothing was gone, and the feel of bare skin against your body was electrifying. His mouth crashed against yours, fervent kisses desperate to taste you again. You let your fingers tangle in his hair, pulling him into you to kiss back. He was hungry for you, biting at your mouth and tongue like a man starved. Plush lips made their way from your mouth down your neck, nipping at your throat and sucking the tender skin until you had bruises to match the ones on your thighs. His hands wandered down your body, rubbing at your breast and teasing your nipples until you were gasping for more. The devious digits moved on until his hand was between your legs, pushing at your folds and finding your clit to spin circles on. He was becoming an expert at finding what made you squirm and whine from his touch, rolling callused fingertips into you until you were making a delicious mess on the pile of stolen silk. 

But he wasn’t done there. The fuzzy kisses went from your breast down your belly to where his fingers were working into you. He pulled his hands from your soaked cunt and replaced them with his face, pushing his tongue up against the tiny ball of nerves that had so much power over you. Short, quick circles between long, languid licks had you arching your back and pulling his hair, demanding more. Lost in the heat of your thighs he was happy to give you everything, pushing the smooth muscle of his mouth into your slit and upwards against your clit until you were seeing stars again. 

Your hands couldn’t stop exploring him, from his thick head of curls to the strength of his shoulders. The muscles kept going, tight coils on his back and the warm, rigid wall of his chest. The trail of fuzz on his belly went up farther than you were expecting it to, and the fine hairs tickled your fingers on almost every inch of his skin. Your hands trailed over the numerous, vicious scars that marred his flesh like a road map of every near-death experience he had lived through. Gashes on his arms and burns on his sides had healed over into smooth, textureless skin, the marks of a seasoned hunter that nobody but their barer had ever seen.

Having drank his fill, he pulled his face from the apex of your thighs, pushing your knees apart and quickly sheathing himself in you with a ragged groan. Mando’a praises poured from his lips, some you were familiar but many you weren’t, though all of them made your heart flutter. Strong hands wrapped around your knees to keep you in place on the wobbly sled while he pounded into you, the feeling of bare skin on the backs of your legs making you wish you could see him in the light. But the darkness was the greatest keeper of secrets, hiding your love making from the condemnation of his creed. 

Make love. Though the phrase was just another on the long list of euphemisms used for sex, the pair of words weighed heavy with meaning in their new context. You wanted to explore the concept the way your hands explored his body, but the fire of your core was thrumming with heat, demanding your undivided attention. Din fell forward to your chest, the sweat of his efforts sticking to your breasts. Wandering kisses sent fire over your skin as he made his way over your peaks, sucking hard on their tender buds. Beskar-strong hips rocked against yours until you saw fireworks again, bearing down so hard on him with your orgasm that he sank his teeth into the crook of your shoulder. Bites made their way from where he had surely drawn blood on your flesh up your neck til they turned to kisses again. His brow pushed against your forehead, though your lips were right there he still defaulted to the only show of affection his armored inheritance allowed. Hot gasps of air puffed over your skin from the heat of his breath, and you knew he was close. You locked your legs around him, forcing him to pump every last drop of himself into you, painting your walls with his seed until it was spilling down your ass onto the piles of clothes.

The strength of his arms gave up, and he let himself fall against you, his face pushed against your cheek. You could feel his bristles brushing over your skin as his breath heaved, soft but scratchy. His hands wrapped under you and up your back, hugging you to his bare chest so hard the air was squeezed from your lungs. Fuzzy-lipped kisses dotted your cheeks and face, taking extra time to kiss your lips, each one a promise of more to come. You dragged your nails over his back, making him groan and shake at the touch. Never had anyone to scratch that itch, have you, tinman? Tight muscles loosened under your careful touch, making him sink harder onto you until you couldn’t tell where he ended and you began. 

You wanted to stay there forever, but as the sweat on your bodies cooled it became sticky and made pulling yourselves apart a chore. Both of you reluctantly made your way off of the skiff, clinging to the walls of the cabin while he hunted for his helmet in the dark. Lights came on gradually once his bucket was back in place so you could find your own clothes, and when you had both gotten yourselves put back together you piled everything you had stolen onto the hoverskiff and pushed it back down the ramp of the Crest. The Mandalorian was back in his beskar, and he cocked his vambrace back and shot a wall of fire onto the little sled, incinerating all evidence of your thievery and passion. The bonfire burned brightly on the gravelly beach of the Cantonican ocean, sending flaming ash into the light of the new dawn. 

You decided to keep the red pocket square that you had tucked in on his costume, though you weren't sure what you would need it for again. Sentimental. You went to the supply crates where your backpack and droid mask were kept so you could squirrel the thing away, when you caught the familiar glowing blue of spotchka at the bottom of the larder. The horrible color made you fucking nauseous after today, but even more distressing was that you realized it was just sitting there unsecured when there was an impish child onboard that could easily get into the bottled brew and make himself sick, or worse.

“Din, we need to put this somewhere safer.”  You held the liquid lantern up for him to see what you were talking about. “What if our foundling gets into it? He might get really sick or-”

“Our?”

Shit. “Sorry, your foundling. Your foundling might get-” Din crossed the small space of the cabin until he was standing close to you, the child in question tucked against his chest. The baby’s big, nebulous eyes glittered up at you, and you couldn’t help reaching out to rub his sail-like ears. He chirped happily at your touch, and as much as you wanted to keep your eyes on him, his father was towering over you, making you squirm under his tilted glare. 

“Say that again.”

“Your foundling.”

“No. The other word.”

“Our?” 

“All of it.”

“Our foundling?”  His helmet cocked to the other side, doing his big metal bird impression. The arm that wasn’t holding the child pulled you up against his chest, squeezed right against the baby in question. The familiar galaxy-erasing hug made you realize how many times you had thought of the child as your own, he was your little buddy, your missing baby when he had been stolen away, your secret weapon that you had hidden in your purse. But he wasn’t your child, he was Din’s, so for him to also be considered as yours…

“Ours.” Above you the word was spoken like it was new, as strange on his tongue as Mando’a was to you. “Our foundling. I like that.”

You couldn’t turn your head up to look at the man who had you wrapped against himself so tightly, but you could smile at the green little child that was flashing you his adorable toothy grin. You little fart, you thought with a laugh, you’re gonna make me go all soft. Almost as though the creature could hear your thoughts he squealed in delight, patting your cheeks with his fat baby paws. You let your arms circle around the boys that had made your life a roller coaster of emotion blasting through the endless sea of stars. It might be a hell of a ride, but you weren't ready to get off any time soon. The memory of the sands of Tatooine where you had been trying to forget the dangers of the universe was starting to fade away, replaced by the moment you were losing yourself in. You were happy to see it go, though your past self would be shocked at how comfortable you had gotten with a magic alien baby and a man with no face.

“Yeah… I like it too.” You hummed into the beskar, feeling Din’s arms tighten even more. You were glad he couldn’t see your face, because the lovely smile had vanished. This is all going to end soon. You buried your face in the tiny space between the foundling and his father’s armor, trying to ignore where the coaster’s rails ended. Only one stop left.

Nevarro, here we come.

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