#like i get the ‘if you cuff your short sleeve shirt and skinny jeans paired with doc martens you’re bi’ joke but i feel like

[writers-worst-nightmare]

I don’t dance

Fluffvember: day one

Pairing(s): Technoblade x reader

Warning(s): no editing done (very poor grammar and spelling mistakes)

Type of fic: fluff, kinda reverse comfort

Words: 3,029

Requested?: No

Request are always open!

A/N: I hope I wrote Technoblade right! I really am a sumo for him and feel like I would always let him down from the glory that he is if I wrote him!

Song you two are singing

Techno was a quiet person.

Not shy but quiet.

He rarely talked but when he did his voice was smooth like honey rolling off the tongue or as sharp as the blade of a sword.

He oftentimes shared his option about the government in the open. Making him known for his chaotic and loud personality. But nobody except you got to hear the soft side of him. The soft and gentle side of him.

The side of him that put his hair into a ponytail because he knows that Michael loves to see his scars and piglin features. The side of him that bought you everything gold because he had some fascination with you wearing it. Whenever you would wear the stuff he gave you he would plaster a large and rare smile on his face.

Oh, yeah, this man smiled a ton.

But he only smiles for the people that he trust with the most. The people who are close to him. The people who really know him.

And you—being his significant other—know him very well.

You knew that he always looked up to Eret. Especially since he betrayed everyone. And that he why he wears a long draping cap. You know the side of him that always has wide and open arms waiting for somebody to cuddle him. You know the side of him that shared mythology tales that can venture on for days on end. You knew the side of him that never did care for his family.

And you couldn’t blame him.

Tommy betrayed him

Wilbur died

Philza killed Wilbur

And Fundy joined Las Nevada’s with Quackity.

It was hard for the men to get his head wrapped around everything. So sometimes he had to take a break from life. And that break was you.

“Hello babyyy!!” You cheered. A smile on your face. You were baking some food for him. Techno chuckled and closed the door behind him. He had on a golden crown that stick up, nothing too sparkly like some of his crowns that he wore. Instead of his formal attire that consists fo the long draping cap and white undershirt with a large buckle and pirate like pants. Techno today wore a very casual outfit that you had given him a few days ago as a surprise. The outfit consist of a long sleeved white collard shirt. The cuffs of the shirt had dark colored buttons on them. The collar of the shirt was connected at the front with two thin silver chains. Over the long white shirt he wore a plain black shirt sleeved shirt. The collar still shoving and sleeves out in the open. And over that he had on a black jacket with the L’manburg flag on it. The collar of the white  shirt and cuffs were still visible. The jacket was left open (you guessed it got a little warmer when the sun was out in the air). There was a triangle shaped necklace that was short but not so short that it didn’t hide underneath the white collared shirt. It was a black crystal that the two of you found on the second date you guys went on. You had a dark pink blush crystal that is connected to a wired necklace. This time the black crystal was connected to a silver chain similar to the chains connecting the collar in the front of his shirt. He had on a thin black belt with a silver buckle to hold up his skinny black jeans that (surprisingly) had no holes in them. He was wearing black combat boots to at he was untying right now. The socks he was wearing were some Christmas socks that were fuzzy and thick.

You smiled at him.

“I like your socks.” You commented. Pinning tit eh socks that did not match his outfit. Techno rolled his eyes before grunting slightly.

“Do you have my clothes ready?” He asked. You nodded your head ‘yes’ and pointed to the stool where a pile of clothes had been set by you.

“They are fresh out of the dryer.”

“Nice and warm!”

Techno stated in awe before slipping off his belt and pants. You looked back behind you but quickly got flustered and stared down at the food in front of you. You stirred the pasta that was in the bucket. Techno slipped on a pair of baggy black pants. He took off his necklace and gently laid it down on the kitchen table. Focusing on it and having flashbacks of the pay for a few seconds Techno let a content sigh and took off his jacket and short sleeved black shirt. He unattached the silver chains and unbuttoned his long sleeved white collard shirt. He pulled over his head a loose white shirt that had puffed sleeves. There was a drawstring cross in the front of his shirt. He took off his crown. Turning around he went to the kitchen area where you were and hugged you from behind.

“Hey baby...” Techno’s sweet and dark voice rang in your ears as he places soft kisses on your neck. You giggled, turning around and facing the man.

”Hello Tech! How are the farms going?” You questioned. Techno placed his head on your shoulder and let out a long sigh.

“Stressful...I wish I can be like Schlatt and get rich off of being handsome...” you mumbled. His voice slightly muffled by being buried in the crook of your neck. You for wed slightly and rubbed his back in a comforting sort of way.

“Awww...I’m sorry Tech...Why don’t we distract ourselves by undoing that braid of yours and eating some dinner?” You suggested. Techno nodded into the crook of your neck and pulled away slowly. You smiled in a comforting sort of way. “Go sit on the couch. I will get the pasta ready for you!” You exclaimed happily. Techno smirked and went to the living room. Sighing to yourself you got the pasta and poured it out on the plate. Pouring some sauce and cheese on both of your plates (although you put a little more pasta in Techno’s plate since he has had a stressful day). Getting the two plates you hummed happily as Technoblade sat down on the floor in front of the couch. You took the plate with more pasta in it and handed it to Techno. There was a fork in their. You preferred a spoon. All the flavor goes into it and it ends up being delicious. You took your plate and set it beside you on the couch. You looked down at Techno’s light pink hair and pulled it into your lap. Techno leaned back and placed his head on you lap. You smiled in celebration and gently pulled Techno’s hair out of a braid. Once your weaved it out and it got down freely Technoblade plopped his happy self right next to you. Throwing a arm over you. You turned on the TV and went to YouTube Music. You pulled up your playlist and started playing it. Techno hummed along to some of the songs that played as he ate his spaghetti. You ate also.

By the time that both of you were done eating it seemed as though Techno had calmed down. You took both of Techno and your plates and put them in the dishwasher. When you put them in the dishwasher had been filled. So you got in the cupboards and got one of the pods to put in the dishwasher. You put it in the little box area that it goes in. Hitting ‘start’ and then closing the door the dishwasher buzzed with a silent noise. It wasn’t a annoying noise. But a silent and peaceful noise. Humming the words to the song that was playing you smiled at Technoblade and went in front of him. Pulling him up you laughed as his stumbled to his feet. Blinking his beautiful black eyes in condition at you you prompted the idea.

”Wanna dance?” You asked. Techno looked tacked aback as he stared at you.

“What? Dancing? Me?!”

*song starts here*

Hey, oh! Play ball!

“Yes you!” You giggled. Technoblade rolled his eyes.

“I can’t dance...”

”You just move your feet!”

You smiled widely as Techno gave you a weirded out look.

Oh, oh, hey

You started taking Techno’s hand and pulling him closer. “I know you got it in you.” You teased.

”Is that a comment or a threat?” Techno asked. Tilting his head to the side. You laughed out loud. Your laughter following the log cabin.

”Whatever you want to take it as Baby...” You cooed. Technoblade rolled his eyes at the common pet name. Not that he didn’t like it so to speak. He liked the name. But it was just like...

Now?

He never danced and he didn’t like dancing. He prefers to listen to music and songs and let his mind wonder to the astrology and stars.

Speaking of...

Techno looked up. The roof of your guy’s house was completely made out of glass (at least the kitchen portion) and it was one level from the kitchen and the living room (both right next to each other) after that the house steeped up to more levels. The stars shone brightly overhead and he lightly chuckled to himself.

Hey, hey, woo!

”Whats so funny?!” You demanded.

“The sight is...it’s amazing...” Technoblade mumbled. You had to agree. The sight was amazing. Stars littered the night sky

“Not as amazing as you!~” you peppered Techno with a kiss on the cheeks. Technoblade’s face heated up as he held the place where you gave him a short and sweet peck.

“Hey, batter, batter, hey batter, batter swing”

You started softly singing. Techno laughed out loud.

“First dancing and now baseball?” Technoblade joked. His arms flailing in the air. A silent way of saying I-give-up-trying-at-this-point. You sucked in your cheeks as he joked about you.

“Just wait...” You demanded. Smirking slightly as Technoblade stared at you with wide eyes.

“I don’t like that look on your face…”

”You shouldn’t!”

Yeah

You took Technoblade by the hand and tried to dance with him. Techno widened his eyes as you tried to dance with him.

“I have told you before I don’t dance!”

Technoblade argued. Pulling away from your hand. You groaned

“I'll show you that it's one and the same Baseball, dancin', same game It's easy Step up to the plate Start swingin'”

You challenged. Starting to sing again. Techno blade rolled his eyes as you backed away from him and started moving some furniture away from the living room or away form the ‘dance floor’ that you have made in under a few minutes. Technoblade pushed away some more furniture in a attempt to help whatever you were trying to do.

“I wanna play ball now, and that's all This is what I do It ain't no dance that you can show me (Hey, hey, hey) Yeah”

Technoblade said. Sliding across the living room and breaking apart from the dance room. You started to cartwheel across to Techno with a goofy smile on your face.

“You’ll never know”

You starting suggesting. Holding out your hand for Technoblade to hold it

“Oh, I know“

Technoblade cut you off and reassured you at the same time as he twisted his torso and started to leave for his bedroom. You pulled him back by the shirt.

“If you never try”

You finished your statement. Blocking him from going to his bedroom. Techno snorted and went across the living room.

“There's just one little thing That stops me every time, yeah”

Technoblade tried to reason. Spinning around to face you. You gave him a I-am-not-believing-anything-you-say look before you grabbed his hand and spin around. Technoblade let go of your hand and groaned loudly.

“Come on!”

You encouraged stubbornly. Grabbing Technoblade’s arm and pulling him in for a swing dance. Techno managed to twist out of your grasp and head to the bedroom once more.

“I don't dance”

Technoblade repeated. You rushed towards your boyfriend and came behind him. Jumping on his back.

“I know you can”

You said. Getting off of Techno’s back and turning towards him. Dragging him to the living room and trying to swing dance again with the pink haired man.

“Not a chance, no”

Technobalde declined your offer. You took this as a challenge (because you take everything as a challenge). As Technoblade came to the doorway of your room once again you slid in his way.

“If I can do this, well You can do that”

You coaxed sliding from side to side as you recreated the dance you wanted to do with him by yourself. Technoblade felt tempted to hit you but he knew better then to do that. Some of the voices in his head told him not to. So he did what the Blood God’s wanted.

“But I don't dance”

He said again. Placing a hand on your shoulders. You shrugged his large hands off of you and grabbed his left hand. Turning around you managed to spin yourself around and drag Technoblade into the living room.

“Hit it outta the park”

You sang on the top of your lungs. You knew that Technoblade didn’t actually care that he was dancing. It was more or less playful bickering then anything. The two of you felt like young teens once again.

“I don't dance I say you can There's not a chance, oh Slide home, you score Swingin' on the dance floor”

You both sung together. You took his hands and he took yours. You both swing danced together. He grabbed you and brought you closer. He kissed you like it was his first and last time kissing you. You kissed back and smiled slightly.

“Who said they couldn’t dance again?” You teased. Technoblade shrugged his shoulders with a playful glint in his eyes.

”I don’t know. Maybe the handsome man that will one day sweep you off your feet?”

”Oh will he now?”

”Yup!”

”Then prove it..”

“I don't dance, no Hey, batter, batter, hey batter, batter swing I got to just do my thing Hey, batter, batter, hey batter, batter swing Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Two-steppin', now you're up to bat Bases loaded, do your dance It's easy Take your best shot Just hit it!”

You laughed loud loud as Techno picked you up and tossed you in the air. You felt weightless as if you were flying through mid-air. Technoblade laughed as well. Catching you in the safety of his arms. Smiling down at you with a proud full look in his eyes.

“Told you!”

“I've got what it takes playin' my game So you better spin that pitch you're gonna throw me, yeah I'll show you how I swing You'll never know Oh, I know If you never try There's just one little thing That stops me every time Yeah Come on!”

Technoblade twirled you around. You grabbed ahold of him after the spin and smiled a wide smile. Techno smoked back at you. A true smile. A smile that carried you off your feet. A smile that you hoped to see one day as he wears it out in public eye. You grabbed his left arm and right arm. Bringing it close to your chest and out again you did the same to the right side.

“I don't dance I know you can Not a chance, no, no If I can do this, well You can do that But I don't dance Hit it outta the park!”

You spun Technoblade around. Techno dipped low and loses you hard on your lips. The crown fell down as you kicked it out of the way in a spiral of emotions. Glad to finally be in the arms of a man who truly loved you and truly trusted you. The man of your dreams no less. You took part from Techno for only a second to turn on the led lights and let them flash slowly so neither you nor Technoblade will have a stroke. How kind of you. You though humorously as you went back to Technoblade. The lights added to the affect as your voices bounced off the walls in glee and happiness.

“I don't dance I say you can There's not a chance, oh, no Slide home, you score Swingin' on the dance floor I don't dance, no Lean back, tuck it in, take a chance Swing it out, spin around, do the dance I wanna play ball, not dancehall I'm makin' a triple, not a curtain call I can prove it to you 'til you know it's true 'Cause I can swing it, I can bring it to the diamond too You're talkin' a lot Show me what you got Stop, swing! Hey! C'mon, swing it like this (Yeah) (Drr) Oh Swing! (C'mon) Jitterbug, brrr (Just like that) da-da, da-da, da-da, da-da, da That's what I mean That's how you swing“

Technoblade let out a laugh. Not a evil laugh. A real laugh. A laugh that he had never shown you before. His pale and pink spotted skin flowed the the flashing lights and brought out his features and pointed jawline.

“You make a good pitch, but I don't believe I say you can I know I can't I don't dance You can do it I don't dance, no Nothin' to it Atta boy, atta boy, yeah Hey, batter, batter, hey, batter, batter, what? One, two, three, four, everybody swing Come on! I don't dance I know you can Not a chance, no, no”

You were once again lifted in mid-air as Technoblade threw you like a Italian does with Pizza. His large and strong arms caught you once again. You smiled widely as you swung again. Dancing along with the system of the music that played in the background.

“If I can do this, well You can do that But I don't dance Hit it outta the park! I don't dance I say you can There's not a chance, oh Slide home, you score Swingin' on the dance floor I don't dance, no”

#high school musical 2 #i don’t dance #music #songs #dream smp #dsmp #mcyt x reader #mcyt #mcyt x you #dream smp x you #mcyt x y/n #mcyters #mcytumblr #fluffvember #fluffy #reader insert #technoblade #technoblade fanfic #technoblade x y/n #technoblade x you #technoblade x reader #technoblade x oc #fanfiction #fanfics #fanfic #creative writing #writing inspiration #writing #writers #writeblr

[thewinedark]

Unique Dark Academia Fashion Ideas

By now I think we all know that silk shirts, oxfords, and old blazers are staples of Dark Academia fashion. Here are some ideas for fitting your wardrobe to the aesthetic that I haven’t seen a lot of. 

Tops

Silk button downs are great, but if you want something perhaps less fancy and simple, here are some ideas:

Cardigans. Specifically, tighter button down cardigans. While they are very similar to silk shirts, they aren’t quite as eye catching, and usually not as bright. I have a cream silk blend cardigan that I’ve been wearing under blazers instead of silk; it’s warmer, for one, and doesn’t make me feel so pretentious when my classmates are all in sweatpants.

Cotton. Especially for warmer months, a good cotton shirt looks great tucked in a pair of high waisted shorts or trousers. I would suggest one with buttons as an accent, to avoid it being too plain. You can also roll up the sleeves for peak “disgruntled professor/lawyer” look. 

Sweaters. I don’t just mean a black turtleneck here. Turtlenecks are of course great for winter and fall, but other sweaters are great also. I especially would suggest sweaters with interesting weaves or embroidery, as without the turtleneck they often need a little something extra to dress it up. There’s also the classic look of putting a button down underneath and pulling the collar out. For colors, jewel tones are always best in my opinion: deep reds, emerald greens, midnight blues. But you know yourself best, and if your hair looks great with cream, or light blue makes your eyes pop, go for it. Be sure to tuck over sized sweaters into your bottoms to avoid losing your figure. 

Bottoms

Bottoms are a little easier, as they’re usually not the statement piece of an outfit, especially in dark academia. Still, high waisted, pleated, 100% linen trousers are hard to find in thrift stores, so here’s some alternatives: 

Black jeans. Personally, I avoid low waisted pants like the plague. Unfortunately, it’s hard to find high waisted suit pants in thrift stores, especially ones with the tighter fit that I prefer. Often, I go for my pair of good quality, 100% cotton, extremely high waisted black skinny jeans instead. Avoid jeans with rips or that aren’t a uniform color. I definitely would suggest black if you’re going to wear jeans, though that may be my inherent dislike of blue jeans talking. 

High waisted pants of any kind. When it comes to tucking shirts in bottoms, you want a high waist. I can tuck the bulkiest of sweaters easily into my jeans, because they are high waisted and made of a thick material. Thin, flimsy material is hard to hide the lines of your tops in, and lower waisted pants often can’t hold the hem long before the top gets untucked. 

Skirts. I prefer more masculine clothing, but I do have quite a few skirts that I wear on occasion. And good lord, if they aren’t the most comfortable pieces of clothing I own. Specifically, long flowing skirts made out of 100% silk, cotton, or wool. Wool is great for winter months, and adds an extra layer of protection from the cold. Cotton and silk is best for the hot summer time, and if you’re having trouble with staying in dark academia fashion when you’re sweating out of your fingernails, consider skirts. A long skirt can dress up something like a t-shirt if you do it right. Sandals, a long breathable skirt, and a tied up or tucked in shirt is a great go-to when the sun is sucking away your soul. 

Shoes

I still don’t own a pair of oxfords. 

Boots. I’m a boot person. For dark academia, I would avoid taller boots; ankle boots or calf-length boots are the way to go. Go for leather, and tighter fits. A great way to pull your outfit together is to match your shoes and your belt or bag, and well as the hardware. If your belt is black with a silver buckle, go with black boots with silver accents. Try to avoid mixing metals (silver with bronze, etc.) if at all possible.

Ballet shoes. I don’t own any, but personally I think they’d be a great alternative to simple flats; especially if you lace the silk ribbons up your shins a bit. These are definitely best for summer months though, I would not recommend during the winter.

Accessories

A single accessory can completely change your outfit and aesthetic. Personally, some of my most used clothing pieces are not what you’d call dark academia. My go-to jacket is a bomber jacket with patches, and my usual boots are heavy Harley Davidson biker boots with metal caps. Here are some accessories that can turn your everyday outfit to something more dark academia-esque. 

Suspenders. I would recommend suspenders for everyone honestly. I was having trouble with a pair of trousers, because I needed to keep them high on my waist and tight to tuck in my shirt, but they had no belt loops. Suddenly I realized someone had solved the issue centuries ago, and used my suspenders. It worked perfectly, and also added a whole new level of dark academia to my outfit. I like using them in a subtle way though: under a jacket or blazer usually, that I might take off if it gets hot and just so happen to show off the suspenders underneath. Or, never even take the jacket off and just let people get subtle looks at them. Drawing attention to suspenders makes me feel like a douche for some reason; maybe it’s the images of fedora tipping that flood in. 

Satchel or book bag. I know this one is a staple, but listen. Buying leather satchel changed everything for my look. I might have a bomber jacket, skinny jeans, and biker boots but a satchel thrown over one shoulder shifts everything about my appearance. If you are able to buy one new, Amazon has some great options under $100 dollars. If not, keep your eye out whenever you go to the thrift store.

Hair accessories. Try silk ribbons. Pull your hair back with them, braid them into your hair, or use them as headbands. Learn how to braid metal cuffs into your hair if you’re up for a challenge.

Scarves. Scarves are such an easy way to dress up an outfit, as well as keep you warm. I would suggest long, silk scarves that have enough width that you can style it around your head/hair, which I think is a great look that also keeps your ears warm. Jewel tones are definitely suggested here, especially if you’re wearing all black it’s a great statement. 

Jewelry. If you’re religious, I would highly suggest jewelry with some sort of religious symbolism. Religious imagery is something I defiantly associate with dark academia. If you have any jewelry pieces that were passed down to you, try them. I like rings a lot, but for my right hand I cover all my finger with heavy steel rings that cover my knuckles (for punching purposes). On my left hand, I have rings from my family. I would again suggest not mixing metals, though it can look eclectic if that’s a look you like. 

That’s all I could think of at this moment, but feel free to add your own or message me!  Go forth and dress to make yourself confident, whatever that may look like. 

#dark academia fashion #dark academia tips #dark academia #clothing tips #dark academia clothing #grey academia #light academia #dark academia ideas #dark academia inspiration #fashion #dark academia aesthetic #dark academia style #my posts #thewinedark

[toitown]

Monster March!

Day 20: Create a new outfit for your favorite character!

I don’t really have a favorite character, but I’ve been making extra outfits for MH characters for a while now, so I’ll include a few!

Clawdeen Wolf- A Sweet Screams outfit because it’s a crime that Clawdeen didn’t get a Sweet Screams doll! >:( Since all of the other ghouls got a specific sweet associated with them (Abbey - Ice Cream, Ghoulia - Gummy Candy, Frankie - Hard Candy, Draculaura - Licorice), I wanted to also give her a specific sweet. Clawdeen’s outfit is cupcake themed, and her color palette is dark purple, bright pink, bright green, and black; I wanted to merge the her original doll’s palette with palettes used in later designs to creat something unique. No gold though since there are no metallics in the other dolls in this line. I’d also like to note that Clawdeen has curly hair for this doll with streaks of all 4 colors, along with the dripping, swirly makeup style of all of the other Sweet Screams dolls in purple and black. She has a headband with a black wrapped cupcake with purple icing, the cupcake has bright pink and bright green candies on it and around it, the cupcake is resting on the right side of her head. Her top is made up of dark purple and bright pink horizontal stripes that drip down into each other. On top of the bodice is a black denim vest, and embroidered on the back of the vest is a cupcake with a bright green bottom and swirled dark purple and bright pink icing. She has a short, black, fluffy, layered skirt with a bright green ribbon tied around her hips, ending in a big bow on her left hip. She has elbow length fingerless gloves, a black one on her left hand and a dark purple one on her right hand. She has mismatched knee socks, a dark purple one on her left leg and a black one on right leg. Her shoes are a ankle high boots, the body and part of the heel of the boot is molded to look like swirls of icing, and the sole and the rest of the heel is made to look like the bottom of two cupcakes; they’re mismatched as well. The right shoe has a bright pink top and a bright green bottom, while the left shoe has a bright green top and a bright pink bottom. For accessories, she has a matching pair of twin cherry earrings with bright green stems and bright pink fruit. Her purse is a cupcake with a dark purple bottom and black icing, it has bright pink candies on it and a bright green handle. And of course she has a color-matched cupcake version of Crescent, complete with twin cherries in her mouth!

Jackson Jekyll- An alternative to his standard outfit, but this one’s based on more modern fashion trends. He’s wearing a loose, pastel yellow sweater over a mint green buttoned down shirt. You can see the collar popping out along with the left shirt tail, which has come untucked. He’s also wearing bleach washed skinny jeans, a saddle tan belt with a silver buckle, and white ankle high converse. A saddle tan satchel bag with matching silver buckles is sling across his shoulder, a yin and yang has been tanned and partially pressed into the flap on his bag. He’s also wearing his usual boxy black glasses.

Holt Hyde- An alternative to his standard outfit, but this one’s based on more modern fashion trends. He’s wearing a fire truck red crop-hoodie, the sleeves puff out as they come towards the wrists but are kept firmly in place with elastic cuffs. There’s also a yellow and orange flame design starting at the wrists of the hoodie and ending at the elbows. He’s also wearing black ripped jorts (which are obviously homemade if the raw hem is anything to go by), black fishnet stockings, and black ankle high platform boots. His usual black headphones with flaming skulls on them sit around his neck. He has in his hand a black canvas backpack that’s had the left half bleach tie-dyed to show a molted orange color.

#monster high #mh #monster march #monster high march #jackson jekyll #holt hyde #clawdeen wolf #sweet screams

[mcfreakin-bxtch]

Young Gods (Mandalorian AU)

Pairing: Sin!Din (or OOC just in case) x Reader

Warnings: Smut, Oral (m &f), Fingering, Light choking, Daddy kink, Thigh riding, Rough sex, Soft sex, Use of a safeword, Drug/Alcohol use, Violence, Guns/blood, Mentions of death, Mentions of police (not heavy), Language, Fluff, Barely there angst. (if I’m missing any I apologize)

Word Count: 12K+

Summary: Taken in by the Guild in the rough part of the city, you quickly meet Din Djarin, the best of the best. Who knew of the path it would lead you to?

A/N: The warnings did change from the preview, that’s always a given. I was going to make this fic a little darker but got carried away with it, but I’m willing to write oneshots off this because I simply love it. Also HUGE thanks to @ben-is-a-hoe​ for their unwavering patience for their request, you rock

***

You never knew your parents. Your biological ones, anyway. 

Lila and Billy took you in at a young age, raised and treated you as their own. Life was good with them, and they were amazing parents; you loved them, always had a good relationship with them but you just… fell into the wrong crowd. 

It didn’t take long for the fallout. The screaming matches when you came back home in the middle of the night, sometimes in cuffs or other times wasted with the new necklace you managed to snag. They kicked you out when it became too much and really, you don’t blame them. Not at all. 

From then on you jumped from group to group, big and small, did the jobs, and left. You never stayed, not for long, no matter what; they could never hold you down. 

So when Greef Karga found you pocketing the screamers and betters of cage matches down in Sorgan and asked you to join his Guild, you said yes on the spot.   

Bounty hunters. Mercenaries. Thieves. 

Call them what you like, they just got the job done. With good pay.

They reside in one of the most dangerous parts of the city, hidden in the shadows of the deep underground, in a warehouse that’s not too noticeable or colorful. Nervarro is pleasing to the eye day and night, if you turn away from the horrors that coincide within. That’s the trick, how it drags you into its claws.

That’s how you’re about to meet ‘Target Practice’ Din Djarin, infamous for his name from a well known joke after a job well done. 

“Tell them, tell them what you said after the state of that guy.”

“Tell them how you always get the job done.”

“Tell them the joke man.”

“What’d you say? To that guy right before…”

“Target practice.”

Though he doesn’t have a big name (yet), word still travels around about the Guild’s best bounty hunter, rarely seen without the signature leather jacket that signifies the kind of group you’re in; his signet is printed proud and big on the back of it. 

“Yeah Din Djarin, you know, the guy who fucked up Ran’s group. Took them all out like it was nothing.”

He’s dangerous. Ruthless. Punk. Traveler. 

You wonder if you’ll be here long enough to add more to the list. 

“Relax, kid,” Greef pats you on the back. 

You hadn’t realized your anxiety was showing. Why are you nervous? This isn’t your first time meeting someone equally dangerous, and he is going to be your new partner, after all. 

Because sometimes he comes back with trickles of blood on his knuckles. 

“Ah, and there he is!” 

Din come’s strolling in like he owns the place, with, of course, that jacket, skinny jeans and (biker?) boots; he oozes swagger and confidence, the kind that can really irk a person. And what kinda makes it worse is that he’s handsome as fuck, too, even in the punkish get out. Dark, floofy curls that match the intensity of his eyes—and his outfit—plump, chapped lips with a curl, crooked nose and tan skin; he’s beautiful in your eyes, but you are not going to admit that. 

“Din, this is the new recruit. She doesn’t know much now, but she’s got a lot of spitfire and eagerness to make up for it. Set her up, make sure she’s comfortable, then get to work.” Greef nods at the both of you and walks away. 

Oh, great. 

“H-hi,” you clear your throat. Pull yourself together! You tell him your name and stick your hand out. 

Dark chocolate brown eyes glimpse once at your hand before he shakes it; firmly and short, with no smile or offered greeting in return. You expected as much. 

“Start off by telling me what you know first.” 

His voice. Oh his voice is light with age but deep and gruff; it could melt you and put you to sleep. 

“Well I can pick locks, and I’m pretty okay at stealing.” That sounds so pathetic compared to this batch. 

“Hand-to-hand it is today. Follow me.” 

You follow him around the warehouse—a big, comfy warehouse you’re finding out—and he leads you to what you can automatically tell is the gym; or training room, you should say. He walks around the mat in the middle of the room, and throws a set of keys inside what you assume is an office and shuts the door with a click. 

“Before we do that, I want you to show me your skills,” he instructs. “Karga is cheap, and so is about everyone else here. They’re not going to be happy if they cannot get into their office, or if they have to break the door down to get in. So prevent that from happening, newbie.”

Newbie?

“Newbie?” You repeat. “What are we in, middle school?”

You could’ve sworn his lips just twitched there, but he quickly shakes his head and huffs, leaning against the wall next to the door with his arms crossed. 

He doesn’t say anything, and you realize that he’s waiting for you, so you kneel down and take your pins out of your pocket—a habit to always, always have them in hand. 

You twist your wrists carefully, listening for little clicks and ticks, until it lets out one more loud one and swings open under your pressure; he had to have known it was an easy one, so when you stand up and look at him, he looks unbothered and unimpressed. 

“Good,” he pushes himself off and shrugs his jacket off, throwing it on a chair nearby. He’s wearing a short, black sleeve shirt underneath, with jeans on, too. So are you. 

“Should we change into something more comfortable or?” You ask awkwardly. 

He ignores you again and climbs in between the ropes of the ring. You sigh and climb in, thanking the Maker you didn’t fall or get tangled; it’s a lot harder than it looks, okay?

“Okay, now wh—”

Your feet sweep out from under you. It all happens so quickly, you don’t even know what hit you and you’re falling straight on your back on the hard, wooden mat. A gust of wind leaves your chest in huffs, your back arching and stinging under the assault. 

“What the—ow, fuck—what the fuck was that?” You wince as you help yourself up, rather pathetically if you ask but you just got your ass handed to you in the simplest way. 

“You need to be aware of your surroundings” Din says, not in a gloating way as you suspect most of the others would show towards the new people, but in a way that’s instructional and you internally thank him graciously for it. “Doing these jobs, being a part of our group, it means you have to be alert at all times. Understand?” You nod. “Good. Let’s go again.”

“Okay,” you take a deep breath, bouncing on your feet. He puffs his chest out a little—he’s got a slim but muscular build, not by much but you know it’s there—and you clench your fists, readying them in a defensive stance. 

“Good, you know that much.” 

It’s so sarcastic you want to punch him. 

So that’s what you try doing by lunging at him, hoping to catch him off guard—and hey, on the first day too? You can use that—but next thing you know his wrist wraps around your closed fist and twists. 

“OW!” You howl, straining under the pressure; he twists your arm just a little deeper, making you flinch in return. 

Pine, you smell pine, leather, and… you think that may be gunpowder. 

“Don’t be so predictable,” he says, barely there whispers of his breath hitting your neck. You hope he doesn’t feel the shiver that just went through you. “Trying to catch someone by surprise can be good, if you know the right way to do it.” He finally lets you go and you sigh in relief as you clutch your arm to your chest. “We can stop for today, if you want.”

You want to say yes in the worst way, already so done after feeling like your arm was about to be ripped out of its socket, but you also don’t want to seem like you can’t handle it on the first day.

“No, I can keep going,” you tell him confidently. 

He takes you down again and again, and when you’re eventually shown to your room, you pass out as soon as your head hits the pillow with a very, very sore and beaten body.

The smell of pine is faintly stuck on your pillow, and when you wake up, you think about that one curl on the top of his head that twirls almost down to his eyes.  

***

Din trains you endlessly for weeks and weeks and weeks until you start showing progress. 

The fighting is actually easy once you get the hang of it, and you’re proud to say that you’ve knocked the man off his feet once or twice.

What’s frustrating though is that, for being your new partner, he barely talks to you at all. Sure, when it’s during training or about jobs he will, but other than that he makes no attempts on at least getting to know you. It pisses you off when you see him trailing behind his small group of friends, a whiff of smoke that smells green airing off them, laughing up a storm with them. 

And what’s worse is that you’re not sure why you’re so hurt and frustrated by this. It’s not like you were supposed to be friends or anything. That was usually your number one rule. 

It’s the dreams, you think. It’s the smell of pine and leather and powder that’s specifically Din. It’s imaging what his cock would feel like pounding into you. It’s watching silently from afar, trying to piece the enigma of a man out; the puzzle. 

It’s when you catch him glancing away from you when you turn to him, whether that be during training or across the room during a meeting or that one time, when you got caught in the rain and ran up to your room, drenched and shivering, and you accidentally ran into him in the middle of the hallway. 

“I’m sorry!” You scrambled in his arms. 

His warm, very warm, strong arms. 

You looked up, waiting for him to let you go, but his arms stayed wrapped around you. When you looked up to say something—hey, there’s a puddle starting to form at my feet and I’m sure you don’t want damp clothes for the rest of the night, wherever you’re going—you didn’t miss the way his eyes sought after the beads of water that was trailing down your face and chest, or the way he quickly licked his lips when they slipped underneath your shirt.   

It made you shiver in a different way and he noticed.

Finally he seemed to shake himself out of his daze and backed away from you like you lit him on fire; perhaps in a way, you did.     

It’s when you find yourself studying him; when he’s eating lunch alone, when he’s leaning against a corner of a wall in whatever room you may be in, watching everyone else. When he never turns down a job and always usually comes back successful and you feel glad. 

And especially when, in the middle of training, he’ll press up extra close to you, letting you feel the hard (soft) planes of his body, or when his hands linger longer than they should on your knees when helping you stretch. 

It’s like this building tension between you that’s so thick you’d need a machete to cut through it.

But other than that, you can’t complain. 

“C’mon tough guy,” you mock, bouncing on your feet on the mat. 

Din stands up, rubbing his neck in a wince and throws you a dirty look. 

“Don’t be an asshole,” he mumbles.

“I’m not,” you say defensibly. He leans on one of the ropes, lifting it up. “Oh come on really?” You pout, stomping towards him. “I barely lifted you up and you’re acting like a chi—I–ILD!”

You scramble and flail like a chicken with its head cut off as you fall, barely able to blink before you’re flat on your back. You groan in pain with what little strength just left your body—it’s really not that bad because he took most of your fall with his—

Holy shit you didn’t realize he was practically laying on top of you. 

His breathing is even compared to yours, with his hands wrapped around your head and lower back, preventing you from being seriously hurt; the tip of his nose is touching yours and, today, you can smell the Melioorun on his breath. 

This feels like one of the most awkward and hottest moments of your life. You don’t move, don’t speak or breathe, and one day you’ll have to ask him how he always stays so fucking calm when it feels like you’re about to explode any second now. 

Should you move? Just bite the bullet and risk it all?

His warmth leaves you just as quickly as it happened in the first place and holds his hand out. You stare at it dumbly for probably too long and take it; it doesn’t help when his hand flexes in yours. 

“Guess I deserved that,” you say sheepishly. 

It’s hard to decipher what he’s thinking about. His expression is unreadable to you and he’s characteristically quiet as always—so, what’s new, really?

“You start a new lesson tomorrow.” He says, and walks away just as you’re about to ask what it is. 

That night it’s the juice and his arms you come to. 

Does he know?

Now, you’re assigned to Omera, a very kind woman, who is going to teach you on how to shoot. You hear it’s not hard to figure out. 

“Hi!” She greets warmly in a hug. “It’s very nice to finally meet Din’s new partner.”

“Yeah,” you chuckle. “Don’t think he likes me very much.”

“Oh he’s like that with every new person he meets,” she assures you gently while setting up the targets. Target Practice. “I wouldn’t take offense to it. Just need to give him some time.”

“Right,” you nod absently.

“Here.” She hands you a pair of sound cancelling headphones. “Put this on and grab the gun when you’re ready.”

Your heart beats a little faster when the cool heavy weight of the pistol touches your skin. Omera shows you the proper stance and how to set your sights, and lets you try your first shot on your own; the kickback is small, and the thrill is accelerating. 

“Wow okay,” you laugh, setting the gun down very gently and taking the headphones off. She joins you, probably knowing the kind of high you’re feeling right now. 

“It takes a little bit of time to get used to,” she explains. “But you take your time with this. Better safe than sorry, right?”

You wanna be as good as ‘Target Practice’ Din Djairn?

“Right.” You nod.  

This lesson is longer than Din’s regular, but considering, it’s nothing but fair. When it’s over and you go out to eat, you’re surprised to see the man that’s been pestering your thoughts just about everyday, sitting at the bar with a cold drink in his hands; alone. 

Your palms start to slicken with sweat. Should you go over there? Just casually sit down like you didn’t even notice he was there? Was it really worth such a bother in the first place?

Your heart thuds in your ears as your body decides that, yes, it was time to make a move; he was your fucking partner for Maker’s sake. 

“Hey,” you greet normally—just like you didn’t notice he was there.

He looks up at you in surprise, clutching the glass in his hand tighter. He scowls and that makes you feel so small under his gaze. You should’ve just walked away. 

“What’re you doing here?” He asks annoyingly. 

Okay, now you’re just as annoyed as he is. “Why are you always such a dick to me, huh?” You demand quietly to not make a scene. “I barely know you and you act like I pissed in your drink.”

He snorts, looking in front of him now. “You didn’t do anything,” he sighs. You listen intently. “I just… look, right now this is just about work, alright? I don’t need anyone or anything distracting me.”

You roll your eyes in mild disgust. “Oh please, stop acting like the world revolves around you. There’s nothing wrong with at least being civil with the people you’re working with, no matter how much you don’t like them, and quite frankly, I don’t like being treated like shit for something I didn’t even do.”

Din turns back to you, staring at you with those intense eyes, not giving you the slightest hint of what he can be thinking about right now. It makes you not only nervous, but giddy, too; it’s enough for a small pool or arousal to flare between your legs. 

Finally he takes a large gulp of his drink, setting the empty glass down with a slam. “You’re right.” You gleam. “Tomorrow. You think you’re ready for your first job?”

On a whim, you say yes. He nods and reaches into the inside pocket of his jacket, slapping a handful of credits on the bar; the bartender reaches over to take it. 

“It covers her tab, as well,” Din tells him. 

You stare off in shock as he walks out of the bar.

***

Okay. Your first job. A simple, easy job. 

And you’re stuck in a small ass closet with a man who smells so fucking good and is currently pressed tightly against you, watching through the blinds for our quarry to come. 

It’s been at least an hour of this. 

Now the whole reason as to why you’re in a closet, is well, people. This man must love handing his keys out to his friends—or family, you don’t give a shit—and you were nearly caught twice before Din decided it was best to wait it out by hiding.      

You feel okay, that’s not what the problem is—you mean, you would really love it if you didn’t have to stand in a small space for seemingly hours now—but that’s not all that’s getting to you. 

It’s the man directly next to you that keeps bumping his hand against your thigh, so very close to your ass, and while most of it is accidental, you think that the other bumps are not. The warmth of his body is also quite distracting. Your mind starts flowing between images of what it may look like if he ever fucks you and what might happen when the quarry walks through that door.

“Stop moving,” he growls. Your leg hits the space between his, luckily lightly enough that it doesn’t sting but he grabs your shoulder to stop you. 

You can’t help but squirm again. “I’m sorry, this is just—hprm—uncomfortable.”

Din sighs and looks back through the blinds. “It could be another hour before he comes, so please just stop. Moving.”

You give him the best glare you can muster, and give him the finger since you’re at it. 

Another minute goes by. Tick tock. Maker it’s too hot for this. You didn’t sign up for this shit. You should be out there stealing something or picking locks like you were picked to, not stuck in this closet. Not with the Din Djarin, who can’t even grumble an ‘hi’ to you most days. 

Is it always going to be like this until you leave? Will Din still come to you, then, in your dreams, with honey dripping from his lips? 

…Are you seriously about to consider fucking like this?

“Stop it,” he suddenly snaps. “I can practically hear your thoughts and it’s not making this situation any better.”

Pfff. 

You purposefully jab your elbow deep in his ribs, happy with the pained grunt you receive. “Go fuck yourself.”

He curses and moves, childishly trying to put space between the two of you, and you swear you don’t know how this happens in the midst of your arguing and scurrying, but his knee ends up right against your clothed core and your thigh unintentionally rubs against the crotch of his skinny jeans. 

It’s barely there, but it still feels amazing. 

His hands, large and rough, grip your forearms tightly; not enough for it to hurt, but enough to get the point across. 

“Stop.” It comes out in a whisper, brushing right against the shell of your ear. Your pussy slickens and you can’t move, too enthralled with the turn of events (is he getting hard behind you holyfuckhemightbe) to reconnect with your mind. 

Curiously, you ponder on whether it’s always going to be like this, this little dance you and Din like to play—no, I wasn’t staring at you. No, I don’t think about you at all. No, that’s not how you’re supposed to do this, or steal that. No, that’s not my dick pressing up against you right now. No—

“You know I don’t normally fuck on the first job.” 

It comes out so thickly from you that it surprises even yourself. You practically hear the moment he freezes and stops breathing, and a smirk graces your lips in triumph. 

Before he can react, if he was going to, you hear the door that you carefully picked through open and in walks your quarry, sighing in relief as soon as the door closes behind him; if only he knew. 

Din busts out, gun in hand like none of that did not just fucking happen, pointed at the man—Terry, you believe you saw on the file—who flails against the door, trying to open it. Your gun scares him enough to make him stop. 

“I can bring you in warm, or I can bring you in cold.”

You smirk at the line. It sounds so much like him. 

“L-look I’ll pay you double! Both, e-each, and I’ll-I’ll disappear, I swear!” 

You look towards Din with a side eye glance, just for your own amusement; you’re glad that he plays along, making a pathetic whimper escape from Terry’s lips. 

“Not gonna happen,” you chime. “C’mon, don’t make this harder for any of us.”

Terry is smarter than he looks because he reluctantly nods. You put your gun back into its holster and pull the cuffs snugly tight around his wrists. 

“Good choice.”

Easy. 

Din watches you silently as you lead the way to the car given (stolen) to you—a gorgeous black convertible—and, now you’re positive about this, you’re absolutely sure you felt his eyes on your ass the entire time. 

You wiggle when you help Terry into the seat and bend over riiiight as Din walks by to get to the other side. When you slide in the passenger side, his jaw is clenched tightly and his nose is open in a flare.

Ha. 

***

His friends invite you out to celebrate. 

Given that it was your first job—an easy one, really, with no blood spilt and an easy capture—that must mean that you’re worthy enough to be part of the clique now. Which means going to the local bar and drinking till the heart's content. 

You asked Omera if she would join you, but respectfully declined so you asked your other friend, Jem, whom you liked but she was rather loud. She said yes, of course, which is how you end up at the bar in one of the booths in the back, watching Din play pool and nursing a few fruity and expensive drinks. 

Jem already left you in favor of a young woman who made Jem giggle like a schoolgirl at every chance; well, good for her. 

So it was just you in the booth, debating on how drunk or sober you should be tonight. You’re leaning more towards the latter considering Jem wanted to drive you here when a shadow looms over you.

“Wanna get outta here?”

Din stands over you, looking so intently at you. You gulp and nod your head without even thinking. 

He indicates with a tilt of his head to follow, and you do without so much of a glance back—other than to let Jem know that you were leaving. 

He takes you to the back of the bar and through your confusion you realize he’s walking to a polished black motorcycle; you recognize it, see him with it so many times and yet it doesn’t register in your brain in that moment until you see it. You slow down at the sight of it. 

“You scared?” He asks when you stop. 

“Well I—” you lick your dry lips. “—I’ve never ridden on one before.”

He nods in understanding and holds out a helmet. “Trust me?”

You hesitate, not because it’s him that you don’t trust, but it’s the vehicle itself you do not trust. “Yes. Just please don’t crash.”

He chuckles as you slip the heavy protection over your head and sits himself down, waiting for you to situate yourself behind him before he starts the bike. The loud rumbles vibrate through you immediately and when he revs it you screech and clutch onto his middle in a death grip. 

“Hold on tight!” He shouts and takes off. 

The lurch barely drives you back yet it feels like you’re about to fall. Your head spins under the pressure, and your stomach is doing flips and turns all over as he pushes through the wind. 

You don’t want to open your eyes. You’re not very keen on seeing your impending doom, and this has to be one of the most scariest, exciting moments of your life. 

You feel him zigzag through the roads and alleyways; it’s late, late enough to where there’s no traffic in sight and the city is almost quiet. After moments of encouraging yourself, you finally open your eyes and pick your head up. 

Boy are you happy you did. You can see why Din likes riding this; it’s freeing, feeling the wind brush around you, buildings and lights blurring from the speed. Knowing that at any moment anything can happen but you don’t care; you’re invincible. 

You can also feel the warmth seeping off him and it reminds you of the closet; the vibrations under you doesn’t make it any better. 

Before you know it you’re already back at the warehouse. You’re a little disappointed, both from the short joyride and the short time spent with him, but it’s not like you’re exactly that surprised, either. 

You stand up on trembling legs—the good kind—and hand Din his helmet back with a smile. “Thank you.”

He nods and findles with the straps, looking down at his feet. You don’t know whether you should start walking away or not, so you shift on yours. 

“Wanna smoke with me?” He looks up. “On the roof?”

You grin, knowing what kind of smoke he’s talking about; it’s not your first time, and he’s asking you. “I’ll bring the snacks?”

He smiles; it’s a beautiful smile, a breathtaking one. “Yeah.”

You’re practically skipping towards the kitchen once you’re inside and you watch Din run up to his room. You grab a bunch of snacks that you like and have to wander around aimlessly for the ones you’ve seen Din pick off for minutes before you eventually have your hands worth and sneak up as quietly as you can to the rooftop. You kick at the door once you’re at the top. 

Din helps you place the snacks by the chairs he has set up. When you sit, you understand why he picked this spot; it faces directly towards the quietest and darkest part of the city, making it so the moon and stars shine brightly above. On this type of night, with a cool and gentle breeze in the summer air, it’s perfect. 

“There’s a blanket,” he interrupts your thoughts. He throws the thick pullover at you and you catch one part of it, the rest of it draping over your lap and slapping your face; he chuckles when, again, you give him the finger. 

He rolls the joint and you watch, his fingers moving delicately and expertely over the wrap. It’s even better watching him take the first hit, the way he inhales the smoke and holds it until he exhales it in swirls, his adams apple bobbing. When he passes it to you, you do it exactly the same. 

“Didn’t take you for the type,” he comments. 

You pass it back. “There’s a lot of things you don’t know about me, Din.” You tease. “Don’t judge a book by its cover.”

“Fair enough.” Pass. “So tell me then.”

This catches you off guard. “Oh,” you exaggerate. “Now you wanna know.” You both laugh, the effects setting in. Pass. “What brought this on?”

Pass. It’s out by then, but it’s not like you mind so much; he’s already rolling another. 

“You really wanna know?”

The way he asks it is like a dare. I dare you to say yes, because you may or may not like what you hear, but I promise you’ll be thinking about it. 

It is a tempting dare. 

And you’re falling for it. 

Hit. Pass. “Yes.”

Your body tingles with excitement when he eyes you up and down, goosebumps flaring your skin. Pass. Another second goes by. Pass. His eyes are getting darker if that’s possible. 

Your pussy is officially drenched now. 

“I know you watch me sometimes,” he says casually. Your heart stops. “I get it, I do… I pay attention to you, too.”

You don’t know whether your heart is going to completely stop or burst through your chest. “Yeah?” It comes out breathless. 

“Yeah.” Pass. “I know that you like that awful soup Rully likes to make.” The old man can make a mean soup! “You’re a thief, though it’s in moderation, save for that convertible of yours. You like to draw, I see you doodling on the walls all the time. You never stay in one place for long because you’re afraid of becoming attached, but mainly because you like to be free. You scrunch your face in this weird, adorable way when you’re concentrating, and you’re kind; you’re a good person and a good friend and I… as your partner, and maybe even friend, I trust you.”

Hit. Pass. 

You were speechless. 

How can you even top that off? You thought you had him all figured and yet here he is, blabbing facts about you that you didn’t even know he knew. 

Hit. 

“You like to be alone,” you start. “But you crave moments like these, too, with someone you’re comfortable with. You try to avoid conflict if you can despite your reputation, but you’re also not afraid to take it to that… level if need be. You respect the Guild and everything in it, and you want to be free, just like I do, and I can see that in the way you ride your bike, and the way you look at the sky now. It’s addicting, isn’t it? Being able to do what you want when you want, however you want, the peace and quiet you get with it...” 

He spreads his legs slightly wider as you pass the joint back. 

This moment is tense. It’s in the air, in the way the smoke curls around you and the way the dirty thoughts in your head makes your skin prickle even more. 

He’s looking at you in a way that makes you feel there’s nothing in the world but this. And you can’t help but feel like you understand him a little more now. 

“I’ve been thinking about the closet,” he finally says. Your breath hitches. 

A few seconds go by and you vaguely think that he’s probably waiting for you to answer, to see if this is okay. 

“M-me too.”

The chair squeaks quietly under his weight. “You felt it, didn’t you?” He almost coos this sweetly. “The way I was starting to get hard from your ass rubbing against me. You just could not stop moving and I started to think about all the things I’ve been wanting to do to you for so long.”

“Then why didn’t you say anything?” You whisper—it feels right to, as to not disturb this precious moment that’ll either make or break you. 

He shrugs, looks away like he has been doing when he’s getting shy; it’s an odd sight coming from such a man as himself, but it’s also cute and endearing. “I don’t know… I haven’t—I mean I have it’s just—”        

Din sighs in frustration. You get it—well, you get that he’s struggling, but not exactly sure as to why—and you don’t want to push him if he’s not ready to tell you what it is he wants to say, so you ignore the butterflies fluttering around in your stomach and sit up straight. 

“You want an encore?” You interject boldly. “Because I’ve been thinking about it too.” You stand up, reveling in the way his eyes never leaves you; you have his whole attention now. “How your body was pressed just right against mine. How, some nights, I do imagine fucking you until you can’t handle it.” He audibly inhales sharply. 

You’re standing in front of him now, looming over him just as he did you at the bar. You feel powerful just doing this with the way his eyes light up and his mouth hangs slightly open and his fist tightens on the armrest of the chair. 

Nothing stops you from carefully settling each leg on either side of his hips, ass resting on his thighs. You take the joint from him and take a big, long hit. You hold it in as you stub it out and gently cup Din’s chin, digging your fingers on the undersides of his light stubble cheeks; open. 

His mouth opens without resistance, taking in the cloud of smoke you’re breathing into his open mouth and nose. In the end, your lips meet his in a dirty, sloppy kiss that’s nothing but tongue and spit and teeth; it’s not perfect by all means, it’s a little painful with the clashing and there’s limited space given the chair, and, let’s be honest, your breaths are not the greatest either. 

But it’s like a coil snaps and he growls, wrapping his arms around you, grabbing a fistful of your hair to angle your head however he likes as he viciously attacks your mouth; his tongue glides over your teeth, swirling with yours in a battle you both know he’ll win, and you whimper into the kiss when his hips buckle up into yours. 

“Show me,” he orders gruffly. “Ride my thigh. Show me what you’ve been dreaming about.”

You don’t hesitate to jump off him and pull your jeans off—you stumble in your haste, but you could care less on how ridiculous you look doing it. You keep your underwear on, the air being slightly more chilly now, and climb back onto his lap and wrap your arms around his shoulder. 

He grabs your hips and helps you adjust your hot, drenched pussy over his clothed, beefy thigh; he pushes your panties to the side and teases you with a swift swipe over your clit. 

“Din,” you moan wantonly. At the first shallow thrust, you’re already a mess, the want finally getting the attention you’ve been begging silently for. Your clit slides deliciously against the rough fabric and you wish to the Maker above that you could scream as loud as you can without attracting attention, because by just the first few thrusts you’re already putty in his arms.

“Fuck I can feel you, pretty girl,” he gushes. “Even through my jeans I can feel how wet this pussy is for me.”

“For you,” you whine, continuing a slow grind. “For you, daddy.”

He groans and throws his head back when your knee bumps against his obvious hard on; it looks so big, even hidden behind clothes, and you know without a doubt that it’ll stretch you out to the brim. “That’s right babygirl. You’re doing good.” Then he grunts your name. 

You know what that means, somehow, and move your hips faster against him. It feels too good. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire in all the best ways, like he’s everywhere all at once and consuming you. You don’t want it to stop, it feels amazing and holy shit he’s flexing his thigh. 

He kisses you, makes you forget your own fucking name, and trails his lips down your neck, feeling around for your sweet spot. When he finds it behind your ear, he bites down and licks around the tender flesh. 

“Fuck!” You hiss, your pussy fluttering around nothing, clit pulsing deliciously under the friction. “I want your cock, Din. Think about riding it just—“ you swirl your hips and rewards you with a guttural grunt. “—like this.” 

He’s moaning with you now, gripping onto your hips tighter and tighter to the point of bruising, and you’re happy it will because you want to remember this moment, and the way just his thigh alone is making your cunt clench and body erupt in the most pleasurable way possible. 

“I-I’m gonna cum,” you moan, throwing your head back, clutching at the back of his neck and pulling on the small strands of hair you feel. “Din make me cum, I wanna feel it so fucking badly, oh shit.” You can’t stop, the words just escaping you like a broken faucet. 

He pushes his leg harder against your pussy and moves hips upwards in time with your thrusts. “I-I am t-too,” he stammers in a pitch; it sounds so erotic coming from him. “Cum with me, cum for me, now.”

As if you needed the permission, your pussy spasms on his leg and gushes the tight jeans, your mouth open in a silent scream, body tingling and squirming in his grasp. 

Din moans so sweetly it should be a sin and clutches at you, biting down on your chest through your shirt.   

The air is perfect now for your slick, hot skin. It takes a few moments for your head to reconnect with the rest of your body, and when it does you slump your weight against him. 

“Did you,” you take a deep breath, your voice hoarse and scratchy. “Do you want me to?”

Din looks up lazily from your chest, understands what you’re gesturing to and shakes his head. 

“Already did.”

You look down and see the big, wet patch on the crouch of his pants. You laugh airily and stand up; your legs are wiggly, but your body is sated and happy, and he looks like he’s experiencing the same kind of bliss.  

Your thighs, slick with your own juices, slide roughly against your jeans uncomfortably as you pull them on, watching him adjust himself and clean himself off as best he can with the blanket he threw at you. 

“So,” you drawl. “Another session tomorrow night?”

Din smiles and sighs. “You read my mind.”

You feel like the happiest woman in the world. 

***

It’s heaven.

Being with him. The late nights, where you come back from a fight or a job laughing and stumbling over your feet in desperation to feel the other. The fucking. 

Din fucking you on every inch and corner of yours and his room any chance he has regardless if you’ll get caught; littering your skin with his marks and fucking you so hard you can barely walk without wincing the next day. Being able to feel the press of his lips against your skin, on your pussy, his hands caressing and bringing every ounce of pleasure from your body. 

Whispered words stolen by a kiss. Giving pieces of yourself that he equally returns. Feeling whole and alive for the first time in your young adulthood. 

It’s fucking paradise.

But the credits you have been saving reminds you of the intentions you had when first joining. You don’t even want to think about leaving right now. 

It isn’t the right time to worry. You’re out on a stakeout with Din, looking for a highly dangerous and wanted woman who, and you heavily admire her for this, once plucked a man's eyeball out with her bare hand. 

It’s the most fucked up and badass thing you’ve encountered yet. 

“Wanna play 20 questions?” You ask out of boredom. 

“No,” he huffs. 

Grump. 

“I Spy?”

“Fuck off.” 

“Thumb war?”

“What did I say?”

“Suck your dick?”

“No. Waitwha—yes, we can do that.”

You giggle and playfully shove his shoulder. “Perv.”

“You’re the one who suggested it.” 

“Yeah, only because you said no to everything else.”

“And we're on a job,” he quirks. “Pay attention.”

You stick your tongue at him. “There is such a thing as multitasking.”

“And I think you’re terrible at it,” he says, but it’s light to let you know he’s only teasing. 

“Whatever.”

…

“You know I think you still have time to suck my dick,” he comments.

“Fuck off.”

She doesn’t show until the sun sets, which you should have expected given the track history; it was easier to disappear in the dark. 

“There,” Din points to the dimly lit alleyway. She walks out of the door, looking both ways before closing it. 

He moves quickly and quietly with you trailing behind. The goal is to try and make it to her before she drives alway; she’s worth more alive than dead. 

You watch in the comforts of the shadows—she’s walking to a car that you hope is hers—and follow as close you can without raising suspicion. 

Just as your feet hit the curb on the street she’s on, glass explodes behind you in shards. 

She’s quick. You forgot to add that little detail. 

It’s all happening too fast for you and you’re standing there like a shocked dumbass, a fish stranded on land. This is the first time that’s ever happened. 

Another bang echoes through the still air and without warning you’re being shoved to the hard concrete ground, scraping your elbows and knees against the pavement. 

“Fuck!” Din hisses in your ear. “You gotta cover me from the left.” You take your gun out of the holster and nod; breathe. 

“Now!”

You whip up at the same time in different directions, guns up and aimed. 

And when you hear a chorus of blasts, you hope to the Maker that Din is still standing to your right.

All you can hear is the sounds of your pants. There’s something lying on the sidewalk where she was at, with something even darker pooling around them. 

Logically, it can’t be him because he’s supposed to be standing at your right, and there’s no logical way he got to the other side that quick, but you’re still in a state of shock by what just happened and where the fuck is he?

“Hey,” It sounds far away. You can’t even tell who it is. “Hey, baby.”

Baby. Only one person would be calling you that. 

Your name. That’s the way he says your name. You hear it. 

“Din?” There’s tears in the back of your throat, but you refuse to let them fall. 

He’s here, in front of you, hugging you to his chest. You’re actually clinging to him, you can feel the leather beneath your fingertips and smell the powder and sweat on him.

It’s him. He’s alive. You both are. 

“We need to go.” Sirens sound off in the distance. 

You never ran so fast in your life. 

The entire ride back you’re in a daze, replaying those fatal moments over and over until your hands start to shake. Din notices and places his hand on your knee, rubbing soothing circles; it helps a little. 

You could’ve died. He could’ve died. It was the first time you were ever caught in a gunfight, been so close at death's door, and yet…

And yet as terrified as you were, there was also a thrill to it; a different kind of excitement you never felt before, a feral type that makes you push Din right up the garage doors of the warehouse as soon as they close. 

He stumbles against the door, caught off guard by your sudden attack. You kiss him before he opens his mouth, your hands already desperately fumbling with his belt. Once it’s off you attach your lips to his neck, biting and sucking the taunt skin, while unzipping his pants; he’s already half hard. 

He grabs a handful of your ass, moaning into the kiss when your hands touch the bare skin of his lower abdomen. When you caress the soft, velvet skin of his cock, he buckles in your grip. 

“I’m gonna do what I said I would do,” you tell him as you get down on your knees, face to face with his leaking red tip. 

You don’t give him the chance to react, darting your tongue out to lick around the head of him before taking him completely in your mouth, moaning at the salty taste and sliding down until he’s hitting the back of your throat with a gag from you. 

His hips jerk without hesitance with a pained whine, making you choke around him. You have to unlock your jaw wider to make it comfortable for you. He fists your hair and keeps you still. 

“Makerfuck pretty girl,” he groans deeply. “G-give me a warning next time.”

You hum, swirling your tongue along the veins of his thick girth. He lets you set the pace then and you pull him out for an intake of air, fisting and pumping your spit and his precum as lubricant. 

“Can never get enough of this,” he pants, already tensing beneath your hands. “Seeing you on your knees for daddy. Fuck I wish you could see yourself right now.”

His breaths become ragged when you take him back in your mouth, this time fisting what you can’t fit and pumping him at a furious pace in tune with your mouth; you let your teeth scrape gently on the underside of the head.

“Hmm that’s it,” he hums. When you briefly look up, he has his head thrown back. “Keep going babygirl.”

The sounds you’re making is beyond obscene, and you’re well aware that anyone can just walk in at any given moment and become witness to this, but here’s the thing: you don’t care. If anything, it makes you suck him harder just to get more out of him. 

“So good for me,” he sighs, now taking back control and thrusting shallowly. The sting of his tug adds to the growing pressure in your pussy. 

You know he’s not going to last long by the way his breathing picks up and his thighs shake and tense; you dig your nails into the skin, and he whimpers, fucking whimpers. 

“A-almost there sweet girl, cover it—yes just like that, beautiful, fuck. Keep going—mhmm.”

His moans get deeper with every slosh of your mouth and hand moving rapidly on his dick. The ache in your pussy is almost unbearable to ignore, but right now you want to make this about his pleasure; you want to be the one in control, bringing him to the same levels of euphoria he brings you and more, to hear those whimpers and growls directed at you. 

A few more sucks and he’s twitching in your mouth, groaning a symphony of curses and praises. 

“Fuck I’m gonna c-cum, go-gonna fill that pretty mouth of yours up, and you better swallow every drop, princess.”

Oh that’s got you gushing in your panties. You whimper, spit and drool trailing down your chin and the length of him, and slip your hand to his balls, giving them a gentle but firm squeeze.

“Shit, I’m—“ he chokes, neck going red and he cums like a bomb, instantly filling your mouth with his salty essence until there’s droplets of that dripping from the corners of your mouth. 

You let him sit in your mouth until he comes to, enjoying the taste of him. He pulls your head back and doesn’t give you the chance for you to even catch your breath before he’s bending over and stealing it away with a dirty kiss; he moans at the taste of himself on your tongue and laps at the remnants of his cum. 

“Thank you.” He whispers. 

You help him put himself away and pull his pants up. You’re able to steal one more kiss before he’s dragging you out of the garage. 

***

It’s been gnawing at you since the thought of leaving was implanted in your brain. The thought of leaving and living a life of your own without depending on anyone to achieve it. 

It’s never bothered you before. You always left, no problems, no aches or regrets. But this one. This one was going to rip your heart out and stomp it to the ground until it could no longer beat. 

The other night doesn’t help, either. 

You want Din by your side. The thought of leaving him or worse hurts, really fucking hurts, and in the months of your trysts and smoke sessions and partnership and late night talks and that awful moment that you thought you lost him, you realized that you were falling in love with him. 

When he told you about the loss of his parents, you fell in love with him. The fact that he trusted you enough to show you that part of his past made your heart beat funny in a good way. 

“The Guild quickly found me after,” he explained, your body entwined under his sheets. “Hans was the one who found me, actually, and just so happened to reside here. Taught me basically everything I know. Greef came in not that long ago, and I brought Omera in just a few months before you showed up.”

You rubbed your hand up and down his chest, tracing the light, faint scars that scattered. 

“So I feel like I owe them, you know?” He continued, absentmindedly tracing patterns on your back. “Because if it weren’t for them, I’d probably be dead by now.”

You froze. You didn’t like that. Ever since that night with the assassin, you didn’t like to think or so much as hear anything about Din’s death. 

He must have noticed your sudden shift because he lifted your chin up gently and pouted. “And if it weren’t for them, I probably would have never met you, either.”

It did make you feel better and you appreciated the change. You hugged him impossibly tighter to you, feeling his heart skip a beat beneath your ear. 

“I’m glad I met you,” you said into his chest. 

He sighed, a happy one. “Me too.”

And followed by his fears, insecurities, hobbies and passions, it grew. 

When he first held your hand as he ate you out, that love grew even larger. When he started to make sure you took care of yourself and vice versa, and never missed a chance at making you smile, you were absolutely fucked. 

You’re terrified, obviously. It’s not like you’re in an actual relationship per say, at least, if you are—which you have quarrels with, of course—then it’s unspoken; you couldn’t be angry if he didn’t want to leave. 

You just… want to feel that same type of freedom you felt that night. Build a life off of it. Although at this point, you just want any life with him. 

So you’re going to tell him. Now. In your room, where he’s lying right across from you, naked as the day he was born, on your bed with his hands behind his head. 

“What’s wrong?” He asks, tilting his head down to look at you. “I know somethings been bothering you all day.”

You sigh through your nose, pulling your sheets further up your chest. 

It’s now or never. 

“We should just… go,” you finally push out. “Like, ‘leave this place and don’t look back’ type of deal. Just drive off and create a new life for ourselves.”

A breath. 

Silence. 

It’s so fucking quiet you could hear a pin drop. His expression is unreadable, and you’ve gotten good at being able to read him since the half year went by. It’s too much already, making your chest ache and stomach pull in knots. You can’t take another second of silence. 

“Never mind, forget I said anything,” you quickly backtrack, reaching for your clothes when his hand reaches out to stop you. 

“Are you serious?” He demands. “W-why?”

He’s going to say no. You just fucked this all up. 

You shrug your shoulders absentmindedly; he can see straight through your bullshit, anyway. 

“I don’t want to be stuck here for the rest of my life,” you explain quietly, just enough for him to hear. “It’s great and all, don’t get me wrong. I… never intended to stay this long in the first place, you know that. And I know that you feel like you owe them but you don’t, Din.” You take his hand in your lap; he’s listening intently. “I’m not… I’m not forcing you to go. I’m not telling. I’m asking.” God you hope you don’t start losing it. “And if you don’t want to then… then we’ll figure it out. Or something…”

You’re too afraid to look at him. You’ve never felt so open and vulnerable like this before. It was foreign, alien to you and Din as well, you’re sure, so to say that you don’t expect him to roughly palm your cheeks between his hands and kiss you like there’s no tomorrow is a bit of an understatement. 

“Yes,” He whispers against your lips. “Yes.”

You’re bursting. A smile so wide spreads across your lips and you’re laughing and tackling him on the bed, rolling around on the sheets as your lips clash clumsily. 

“We’ll leave as soon as I make the credits,” he pecks your lips once, four times before you stop him.

“I have enough, and why wait?” You’re buzzed off the adrenaline, the knowledge that the man you’ve come to love is here in your arms, mirroring your smile with the wide, toothy one that you adore. 

He laughs, his chest vibrating against yours with it. “Okay.” He trails the tip of his finger down the slope of your nose. “Let’s go.”

You don’t pack much, it’s not like you had a lot to begin with, and it’s easier travelling light when you have no real direction in mind. You both agree to take your car rather than the bike for obvious reasons and it makes you feel guilty; you also feel guilty by not saying a proper goodbye to Jem and Omera. 

“Don’t worry,” he assures you, sticking the keys into the ignition. “I’ll get another one.” He winks at you and you laugh, all bubbly and loud. 

Din puts the car in reverse and backs out of the garage in a hurry, not wanting to waste another precious moment. You wave goodbye at the building as it disappears behind you; you’ll miss the people, even that Cara Dune they stopped by for weapons or to see Din; they had a history, he told you once, and were just good friends. 

“I left them a note,” Din suddenly says. “I knew you also wanted to say goodbye.”

You love him. You swear you love him more than anything in this galaxy. 

You palm the back of his neck and rub, showing your appreciation. He grins and leans his head to the left, sighing pleasantly. The hood is down on the car, the air whipping around you with the city disappearing behind you. 

You don’t find any traces of regret within you. This feels too good for it to be wrong. 

He drives and drives for hours until you have to stop at a motel. It’s old and rundown, but it’ll do. Your room is on the first floor, which is best for the few cars that are scattered in the parking lot.

You’re on each other as soon as the door closes. 

“Look at you,” Din marvels at your pussy from the end of the bed. 

Your hips squirm under his arm, laid out across your lower stomach to hold you down; your clothes are thrown all over the room and you're completely bare to him, spread out like a meal for his taking. “I’ve barely even touched you, pretty girl.”

“Please,” your body is littered in bruises and bite marks, wired and ready to snap at any moment. “Just do something.”

He nips at your inner thigh in retaliation, caressing your leg and throwing it over his broad shoulder. 

“What?” He croons. “What do you want daddy to do?” 

“E-eat me out,” you plead. “Wanna f-feel your mouth on my pussy, daddy.”

That pleases him. “Alright princess, I got you.”

He’s been teasing you relentlessly since you’ve checked in, high off the newfound freedom you both found in each other. The sheets are scratchy and the tv barely shows a decent channel, and you’re pretty sure that the bathroom is in even worse shape, but this is everything. 

“Yes!” You keen. 

He licks a long stripe from your entrance to your clit, using the tip of his tongue to curl under the hood. “Oh my—mhmm.”

His nose brushes against your clit as his tongue ventures back down, licking and sucking in between your folds. The hot, slippery and textured organ pushes in and out of your entrance, tongue fucking you with an eagerness of a man starved. 

Your mind starts to roll over in the pleasure induced haze and the coil in your stomach starts to tighten under his ministrations. He hums at the taste of you and practically envelopes your entire pussy in his mouth and sucks. Hard. 

Your hips jerk, being pushed down as soon as they move. 

“Din,” you whine, burying your fingers in his curls and tugging, earning a deep groan from the man devouring your pussy. He follows your guidance—he really loves it when you pull on his hair—and wraps his lips around your pulsing clit, sucking with audible slurps. 

“Yes,” you gasp, arching your back the best you can. “F-fingers.”

He obliges without having to be told a second time, pushing your legs up slightly higher and sliding two thick fingers inside your fluttering cunt and scissoring them immediately. You whine and wither, it’s so much and not enough and you’re going crazy. 

“What’s the matter, sweet girl?” He coos mockingly. “Is it here,” he stretches you wider. You mutter a breathless, “No.” “Here?” He motions teasingly right next to the spot that shoots bolts up your body. A small tear trinkles down the corner of your eye in frustration. “My poor baby is desperate, isn’t she?” 

Under any other circumstances, if you weren’t so wrecked, you’d make a snotty comment to rile him up; it’s a whole other feeling when he fucks you like a wild animal, but you’ve been so desperate the moment you drove off that you continue to whine and beg him. 

“I’m begging daddy,” you cry. “Please please I wanna cum on your mouth.”

He finally hits your sweet spot, curling and bumping against it until you're very close to screaming and your legs start to shake.

“Oh Maker I’m gonna—“ your entire lower half starts to tremble. When you look back down to meet his eyes, they’re closed and lost in his own pleasure, sucking harshly around your clit and scraping his teeth gently across the hood. 

Din pulls back with a gulp of air before hoarsely saying, “Cum.” 

He dives back in with a vigor and within five strokes of his fingers and tongue, your pussy clenches around his digits like a vice. 

“Yesyesyesyes FUCK!” 

It feels like you’re practically drowning with the man with the gushing feeling pooling from your core. He continues to eat you out, drinks the juices you give him with ease. 

It’s too much. You keep pushing against his head but he growls and latches on to you tighter, sucking and fucking you even harder than before. 

“S-st-stop,” you muster through the onslaught. “D-Din, Beskar!”

He stops at the safeword and with his chin glistening brightly in the dim light, teeth shining behind it like a wolf stalking its prey, you feel another short wave tingle through you; your body is flushed and spent, but you open your arms to him, welcome his just as equally bare body on yours, moan at the sweet taste of yourself on his mouth.

You feel the bulbous head of him at your entrance and with a nod from you, he pushes in in one smooth thrust; with his spit and your orgasm combined, he slides in with liquid ease and a wet, loud slosh of the mixed fluids he pushes through.

He swallows your whimper and settles himself to the brim inside you, the curls of his hair scraping against your pubic mound and his balls sitting comfortably on the base of your ass. 

“I know, baby,” he coos softly. He runs his hand over your breast, twisting the hard, perked nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Your hips buckle into his, making you both moan and close your eyes. 

“C-can I move?” He grits between his teeth.

“Yes.” You wrap your legs around his waist. 

He pulls out almost completely and thrusts back in without hesitance. The thrust is so hard that it pushes you up the bed. 

“You’re already squeezing the fuck outta me girl,” he pants, holding himself above you. You grip onto his biceps and feel your cunt spasm around him again; you’re still very sensitive from the previous orgasm and it hurts in the best way possible. 

“I ca—“ it’s so hard to think and talk and even breathe with his deliciously thick cock pounding into you with abundance. 

He moans and somehow goes even harder and faster than before, the slaps of his hips against yours so fucking loud that you can’t barely hear the cars outside anymore. 

“Gonna cum again?” He snarls. You nod weakly. “Fuck babygirl this pussy was meant for me, so good to me.”

A bead of sweat falls from his slick body and on your top lip; you wrap your arm around his neck and bring him down to you, licking the sweat off his neck. You bite down on the juncture between his neck and shoulder, making him grunt and his cock twitch inside you. 

“Harder,” you gasp in his ear. 

He groans and anchors himself by gripping onto the headboard tightly, slightly stopping the bed from banging against the wall like it has been for the past five minutes—you’ll be surprised if you don’t already receive a noise complaint. 

Your lower stomach tightens again as your orgasm approaches and you can tell he isn’t far behind from you. “I’m gonna cum daddy,” you whimper into the air, head thrown back against the pillow. “C-can I?”

He plows into you like he’s never felt the walls of a pussy before and shifts his hips a little to the left. The reaction is instant. 

“Oh Maker yes, keeping fucking me, right there.” The words are so ragged and broken. 

“Cum all over me,” he demands gruffly, deep from within his chest, staring down at his meal and boasting. He wraps his hand around your neck and squeezes gently at first until you nod, and then more pressure until your eyes roll in the back of your head. “Make daddy cum. C’mon pretty girl, sweet, sweet girl, please.” 

The combinations of his cock, hand, and the whimpered please that just left him do you in. You open your mouth but nothing comes out and the only thing you can feel is your cunt spasming around him, sucking him in when he pulls out; your whole self is lost in euphoria, but you can register his hips slamming sloppily into yours and the pitches whines that are tearing from his throat. 

“Oh fuck fuck.”

He’s about to pull out. You’re not on the implant, it’s something you’ve been meaning to take care of, but this time… this time you don’t want him to. You want to feel all of him in this new light, have another part of him within you. 

“No!” You clutch onto his neck as he reaches down in between your legs. He pushes himself up in shock but he takes you with him and now you’re seated fully on him—is it possible to feel this full and sore and complete at the same time?—as he sits back on his heels, staring at you in a mix of confusion and pain. You immediately feel guilty.

“You can—you can cum in me i-if you’re comfortable with it,” you stammer breathlessly, brushing the curls out of his face. 

Din stares at you in complete wonder, panting and holding your waist in a tight grip that’s slightly painful but you know he’s struggling to hold on right now, so you don’t really blame him for it. 

You’re starting to think you went too far. This is intimate; it’s a mark, it’s trust and security.

Suddenly he gives you a few, hard thrusts and he’s choking on a whimper, filling your stuffed pussy; it feels odd, but it feels just as good for you as well, especially when you see the blissed out look on his face, and you can already feel his cum and yours leaking from you and on to the sheets. 

You’re too weak to hold yourself up anymore, so you lay your upper half on the bed while the lower stays connected to his. His hands run up and down your body, soothing the hot, slick skin while he continues to stare at you; those eyes are so intense that it’s hard to return it without feeling like you’re being consumed. 

The only sounds in the room are your breaths. He lays his head down on your pelvis, gripping your hips in the same way the bruises show.

“Can I stay?” He eventually asks. You raise your eyebrows in confusion. “Inside you,” He clarifies, almost nervously. 

You nod, too tired to move or speak, so he adjusts the both of you back to the pillows; he apologizes when you wince or hiss, laying you on your side so that you’re comfortable. 

Din outlines the contours of your face as your eyes close, a barely there touch that tickles you but you make no moves to stop him. 

He mumbles something but you can barely register what he’s saying, lost in the colors behind your eyelids. 

There’s a soft, wet press on the top of your head before you disappear into your dreams. 

***

It’s hard to keep a low profile with the way you two are going, and without the protection of the Guild anymore, the law is after you more than ever.

That doesn’t stop either one of you. 

Nor does it strip the joy of the life you have with him. 

It’s not always easy for the most part, but you still can’t find any particle of regret in you, or in him. It’s like you were meant for this—doing whatever the fuck you want, when you want, with your partner, in so many ways now, standing by you.   

The sun is setting in the seering desert, the lines of a heat wave outlining it beautifully. The hood of your car is down, sunglasses on and Din.

Well Din is riding right next to you on his brand new bike, laughing and smiling with you. The cops are long gone now, lost in the trail of dust you left behind.

The whole chase was exhilarating, to say the least.

A new days version of Bonnie and Clyde. That’s what one of the papers called you. And no doubt, there was someone from the Guild coming after you for the hefty bounty that’s been placed on your heads. 

“Let them come,” Din says now as you sit on the hood of your car, watching the earth settle into the shadows of the night on the side of the desert, barren road. He runs his hand soothingly on your head, scratching the scalp lightly much to your delight; you can fall asleep right here in his arms like this. “We can take them.”

“I know,” you sigh. “But sometimes I just can’t help but feel like… like—” You can’t finish. 

“Look,” he sits up a little. “I don’t regret this. I don’t. I’ve never felt this happy in years and it’s because I’m with you. I’m experiencing this new life with you and that’s all I want. We’re fine, more than fine, and I have no problems reminding you for the rest of my days if that’s what it takes.”

He seems to always know what’s going through your mind and exactly what you need to hear to soothe it. 

“Thank you.”

He gives your ass a squeeze. You snort and settle closer to his side. “I’m sure my parents are horrified right now.”

You don’t know where that suddenly comes from. 

He shifts and you feel him look down at you, but doesn’t push you away. “Do you want to call them?”

It’s a dumb thing to do and he knows that, but you appreciate what he’s trying to do. 

“No,” you sigh. “Can’t.”

“Hey,” he lifts your chin to look at him; the sun makes him look like a God. “You still got me, alright? Until the end.”

You kiss him. You try to pour all the words unspoken into it, all the love that’s filled your mind and body and soul.

He reminds you at the nearest motel around. This time, he takes his time with you, explores with more depth; no rush, no interruptions. 

It’s soft, the way he cradles you gently and rocks into you. It’s caring, when he kisses you languidly and grinds his pelvis against yours, brushing delicately against your clit. Understanding, when he shushes you quietly. Stability, as he’s holding you close to him, your lips not even moving away from the other. 

It’s love. 

It’s love in the way your heart calls to him. The way you feel so safe and secure with him, knowing that no matter what happens, he’s the only person who will ever have your back in this shitty world. 

It’s love by the way you no longer feel like you’re trying to find pieces of yourself. In being with him, you’ve come to realize that you’re whole now; you’re not searching anymore, you’ve found everything you need right here in him—in the Target Practice Din Djarin, Clyde to your Bonnie, whatever the fuck you want to call it. 

And you tell him that, in hushed whispers. “I love you. Fuck I love you so much.”

Your heart bursts when he says it back. “And I love you. More than my own life.”

You giggle, just out of sheer joy and because you can and he joins you in equal pitch and giddiness. 

His thrusts stay slow and languid, a contrast to your usual roughness, but it’s perfect for the way you’re pouring your heart out to him, as he is to you, in ways old and new. 

“I’m yours,” he breathes on your lips as your core flutters around him. “Don’t you ever forget that.”

You won’t. You never will. 

“And I’m yours,” you seal this in a hard clench of your pussy and revel in the way his eyes roll in the back of his head. 

There’s no telling where you begin and he ends. It’s astronomical the way he seems to fit against you, in you, so perfectly, as if you really are a match made in Heaven. Or Hell. Or, you know, wherever you go after this life. 

When he comes inside you, shivering in your arms with his adorably scrunched up face, you vow that, even if they end up catching up to you in the end, you’ll never leave him unless he asks you. You’ll fight through tooth and nail, and you almost want someone to even try it; they’re trying, and they’ll keep trying until they get their prize. 

There’ll never be anyone like him in this entire galaxy. 

And if he goes down, you go down with him. 

Tags: @justlovetoreadfics​, @lil-baby27​, @mando-vibes​, @beepbeepyabitch, @that-void-witch​, @im-the-music-whore​, @certifiedhunter​, @softpedropascal, @domino-oh-damn​​, @okaydacre​, @lemongrove​, @olyamoriarty, @pcrushinnerd​, @elusive-ivory​, @dizzydazed​, @dadzawas-eyebags, @parody-the-emi, @evalynanne, @purplewaterbird, @vikingqueen28​, @tedpicklez​, @blunt-cake-yes​, @agoldin, @lustriix​, @readsalot73​, @kateb013​, @eupphoriaaa​, @imalovernotahater​, @everything-lost-and-unsaid​, @dlmafa1, @hoodedbirdie, @drunkenliterary, @fioccodineveautunnale​​, @fangirlfree​, @mrsparknuts​, @amarvelousmandalorian​, @ironheart-hanako​, @bunniotomia​, @thisisthe-way​, @sando-rann, @meganoid1997, @adikaofmandalore​, @cahooter​, @charliepeaceout, @dreamgirl-67, @phoenixhalliwell​, @acrylics-and-sunshine, @sunkissed-winter, @oloreaa​, @equalstrashflavoredtrash​, @dyn-djarin​, @ben-is-a-hoe​, @altarsw​, @pascaliprincess​, @mandalwhoreian​, @roxypeanut​, @lark-cale

#the mandalorian #the mandalorian au #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin #din djarin x reader #sin!din #sin!din x reader #pedro pascal #au #ooc #fanfic #din djarin x you

[dom-bastiansmythe]

Finals Bliss || Bas & Alex

TAGGING: @dom-bastiansmythe & @alejandro-lodge

DATE: Saturday September 9th, evening hours

LOCATIONS: A scene room 

SUMMARY: Finals scene

Sebastian stepped out of the steaming shower and stood in front of a mirror. He looked at his own reflection and nodded at himself before grabbing a towel and he dried himself off as he made his way into his master bedroom. A quick look inside his wardrobe and he knew what to get. Black leather pants, also black leather boots, completed with a white, silk shirt and a black tie half loosen around his neck. A slight touch of hairgel to tame his wild chesnut locks and after another quick look on his full length mirror he was walking out of the suite, and down and out of the Doms building, and to the main building, where the scenes rooms were. He had gone there earlier that day to make sure he would had everything he would need for his upcoming scene with Alejandro Lodge, and that included the St. Andrew's cross, his own gift to the long list of utilery that they all had at their disposal at the academy. His own had burnt down with the  fire, so a new one seemed fit. And what better way to break it in that with a scene for their final grades. With someone who had told him, up at front, that he didn't do intercourse. 

At first he felt a bit at loss with that one. The last time he had done something of that nature was with his scene with Violet Cooper, who Sebastian told he wouldn't have intercourse with because he was a gay man and that didn't fly with him. But having to do the same with a man was something he thought he couldn't deal with first. But after some thinking he figured they could both make it work, even without actual penetration. He had told Alejandro to meet him at the door of the main building so they could go into the room togeher at 7 pm that day, so he hoped the other man was punctual and that he would do as he was told. Otherwise they would be starting with a left foot.

This exam scene was making Alex more nervous than any recent scene had done, and that was saying a lot. Part of it was because he didn’t know Sebastian that well, though having dinner with him and talking to him the other night had definitely helped calm his nerves on that front. Gunner seemed to think he was okay, too. Plus, the guy really seemed to know what he was doing, and that was probably the most important thing. The other part of his nerves had to do with this exam counting for both of their grades. He didn’t want to fail himself, but the added pressure of knowing someone else was relying on him for a good grade on the final exam was a lot. Before leaving his new dorm room, he’d decided on clothes that made him feel confident. It was just a form-fitting, short-sleeve plaid button down shirt and his favorite pair of skinny jeans, but it helped calm his nerves just a bit. He’d arrived outside the building where Sebastian had instructed him at ten to six, and he’d gotten onto his knees right away, kneeling just off to the side of the entrance. A few people passed him while he waited, and one even missed his hair. That was reassuring, too. When someone finally stopped in front of him, he looked up and smiled at the Dom. “Hi, Sir,” he said, trying not to let his nerves show.

Sebastian stick his hands down his pockets as he made his way to the main building, the cool fall breeze grazing his face as he walked. He closed his eyes briefly and took some of that calming feeling, knowing that it would suit him well for the night ahead. As he got closer to the building he spotted a human form kneeling by the door, and a smile came upon his features when he realized Alejandro was already there, waiting for him. He stood right in front of him and nodded. "Hello to you too, Alejandro" he said with a low voice, then he reached down and cupped his chin gently, his eyes taking in everyfeature on his face. "You're cuter in person" he added with a smile, then let go of him. "You got here on time. I like it. I like things being punctual." He looked at the door. "Very well then... Let's get this party going, shall we?" he said and winked at him softly before turning and getting into the building, knowing the other would follow. They made their way down the stairs in silence, broken only when they arrived the basement area. "You're nervous?" he asked, somewhat gently.

Alex blushed as Sebastian grabbed his chin. "Thank you, Sir," he murmured, pleased with the compliment. Sebastian was really hot in person, too, especially with that tie he was wearing. Just for a scene! An important scene, but still for a scene. "I like making a good impression, Sir," he responded before following the Dom into the building, happy to let him lead the way. He bit his lip at the question and shrugged. "A little nervous, Sir. Just, um... new Dom and everything. And I don't wanna do something to hurt your grade for the semester."

Sebastian unlocked the room he had reserved for their scene and pushed the door open. "I don't want you to fail either, so it's good we have each other's best interest in mind." He entered the room, which had a four pole bed at the center of it, the headrest of it armed with hooks for the cuffs, or ropes on both the upper side and th eloer side of the bed. And on the other side, nailed to a wall, the main piece: the St. Andrew's cross. "New Dom?" he asked casually, then turned to look at him. "Hang on- You have been dommed by just one person? Is that what you're saying?" He brushed his fingertips over his own chin.

Alex bit his lip as he entered the play room, taking in all of the furniture and toys on display. His gaze was definitely drawn toward a large cross against one wall, and he felt his face heating as he wondered what it would feel like to be bound up against it, because that's what it had to be used for, right? Sebastian's voice brought him back to the present, though, and he cleared his throat, turning to look at the Dom. He shook his head. "No, Sir," he said. "Mostly one, but I've submitted for a few Dominants this term. But we haven't scened together before. That's what I meant."

Sebastian nodded. "I see. Well, that's good to know." He caught the blush on his face when he looked at the cross, with the binds hanging loose from it, and he grinned. "Before we get started, and just so we're on the record for our scene, let's have a little chat." He offered him his hand and once he gave it to him they moved to the other side of the room, where a medium size couch was. They both sat down and crossed his legs together. "Let's go through your do's and don't's once more, and more thoroughly, so there's no mistakes. And you need to tell me what your safeword is. And also, another than a good grade, is there something in particular you're looking for to happen tonight?"

Alex took a deep breath once he was seated on the couch, his hands pressed firmly together in his lap. "That's a lot, Sir," he said before shaking his head a bit as if to clear that thought away entirely. "Okay, um, I use the traffic light system for my safewords, Sir. And no sex, and nothing permanent, but I think I'm okay with trying anything else. I, um... I like pain, Sir. And I really just wanna be good for you, whatever that means to you."

Sebastian chuckled. "Yes, well... I like things to  be clear from the start. It's best for the both of us. " He nodded. "Pretty common system, okay. So, like we talked about before, no penetration in any way or form, and... nothing permanent, you say? Some kind of marks are easily gone in a couple of days. Would you be okay with those? Because, let's just I feel like spanking you hard, until your ass is flaming red... Would you like that?" He chuckled and stood up. "I have a feeling you'll be quite good to me, boy. I have to say- In many ways you represent a challenge to me, but I like that. I like challengess." He walked to the center of the room. "Stand up and get over here. Then you will strip of all your clothes."

Alex nodded along as Sebastian spoke. "No penetration, Sir," he agreed. "Um, hands are okay, though. And I'm definitely okay with marks that last a few days, like... what you said." He bit his lip, blushing deeply at the thought of being spanked like that. At the order, he got up, moved to the middle of the room, and took his clothes off. They went into a slightly messy pile on the floor next to him, and his hands balled up into fists at his sides to keep himself from covering himself up, like it was his instinct to do. His cock was already half-hard, but there wasn't really any point in hiding it.

Sebastian followed every move the other man's hands did as he undressed himself before; it didn't take much to see the other was a pile of nerves. After he was done, the Dominant walked around him slowly, inspecting him, and humming with approval. "You sure keep yourself in good shape, boy. Do you workout much?" He stood behind him, his hands resting on Alejandro's shoulders and slowly moved them down his arms, until he reached to the fistballs the sub's hands were. "Relax..." he whispered in his ear softly, as he gently tried to unknot his hands.

Alex blushed and shook his head. "Not really, Sir," he said. He shivered as he practically felt the Dom's eyes roaming all over his nude form. "I mean, um, I play a lot of soccer, but I'm not, like... in the gym lifting weights all the time or anything." He took a deep breath and opened his fists up, pressing his open palms against Sebastian's. "I'm relaxed, Sir," he added, more for his own benefit than anything.

Sebastian chuckled softly. "So modest. I like it. Whatever the case, you're gorgeous, boy" he said, his fingers now slowly twining with Alejandro's as he opened his hands, then he let go of one and kept a firm grip on the other. "Come on, let's get you in place then." He pulled him to where the cross was, then moved him so he would put himself on position. "Face to the wall. Arms up. See those hooks up there? Reach up until that level. Your feet there, on those two pads on the floor."

"Thank you, Sir," Alex said, actually feeling himself relax some with the compliments. He kept a tight hold of the Dom's hand and only let go when he was given an order to move his arms. "Yes, Sir," he said, though he took a moment to give the cross one more once over, focusing on the hooks and the pads. Then, he stepped into place and lifted his hands up to the hooks, almost as high as he could reach. "Like this, Sir?" he asked, glancing back over his shoulder.

While Alejandro took position as ordered, Sebastian grabbed a series of ropes which were placed on a table nearby, then he turned to look at the other man and grinned, his own dick stirring at the sight of that handsome male, all spread and stretched for him. "Yes, that's about right" he said, making his way back to him, then he stood behind him and put his arms around his waist, his hands holding him by the chest. "Just a tad back- There you go. You want to give it some room, don't you?" He reached down and gave the man's cock a soft stroke, then reached up and proceeded to tie his hands onto the cross, then the ankles soon followed. He knew for a fact the knots were tight, having tied hundreds of them in his lifetime. "How does that feel?" he said as he stood up, his fingertips brushing under the curve of his buttocks.

"Sir," Alex whined as the Dom just left his cock bobbing there after such a quick, little touch. "A little room, yeah," he agreed, voice already strangled a bit. He felt his breathing slow as Sebastian's attention went to the knots he was tying. It was clear that the Dom knew exactly what he was doing, and that calmed his nerves, too. "Um... tight, Sir?" he replied before testing the rope a bit with both his wrists and his ankles. They didn't budge. "Definitely tight. But I can still feel everything."

Sebastian chuckled, then took his tie off and placed it around Alejandro's neck, once he did he gave it a slight tug, so his head would fall a bit backwards. "That's the idea, boy. We wouldn't want you to fall off in the middle of all the fun, would we?" He let him go briefly and went back to the table where he had all the props he felt he would need it for the night. "So... You say you're okay with pain- How about you just show me how okay you are with it..." He grabbed the riding crop, a long, not too thick made in leather prop with a hard tip on one end. He let this end roam all the way down Alejandro's back, starting at the back of his neck, down his spine, then he let it slide right between his buttcheeks. "Now, this isn't a punishment. But you will count these at loud, understood?" He licked his lips and let the rough end snap on the man's strong bubble butt once.

The cloth around Alex's neck reminded him of the feel of a collar, and he grinned at the way it felt to have his head pulled back. "Definitely not, Sir," he agreed, and he bit his lip in anticipation as he waited for Sebastian to return to him. The slide of something soft but solid against his back sent a shiver down his body, and he nodded at his instructions. "Yes, Sir," he said, his breath coming out shakily. It wasn't long before he felt the toy against his ass, and he gasped out in surprise, his body torn between twisting away and pushing his ass out for more, but the ropes prevented him from moving much in either direction. "One, Sir," he said, probably a second too slowly as his brain worked to catch up with what was going on.

A wicked grin curled his lips when he noticed the inner struggle the man was going through between to want and not to.  It was the subtle movements that he was able to catch, and to him it was something that gave him satisfaction, to be able to do that for the other, while also getting a kick of it himself. The first smack left the shadow of a pink stripe over the man's buttocks and he followed the shape of it with the tip of his crop, then let another three hits to fall on his skin, with a gap of two seconds between each of them so the other would count them.

Alex wasn't good at holding back the gasps and moans and even a yelp as the crop landed against his bare skin--not that he really wanted to. It made his face heat, though, especially when he made an especially loud noise in response to the third swat. "Four, Sir!" he gasped out before biting down on his lower lip while waiting for more.

Sebastian stepped up and stood behind Alejandro, the whole front of his body hovering over the other, with the bulge of his pants brushing on his ass. "Such a good and vocal, boy. You've been good so far" he said, happy to praised the other, then he reached around his waist and let the tip of his crop brush softly over the tip of his cock, already hard and longing for some attention. "Be careful not to cum before I let you to, understood?" he said, the stepped back and landed three more smacks on his ass, the surface of it already tainted in a dark pink color. He reached out and let his fingertips trace the prints of his work on him. "They look good on you, boy."

The whisper of the crop against his dick made Alex whimper. "Y-yes, Sir," he managed to get out. "I understand." Holding back his orgasms wasn't something he had a ton of practice with just yet, but he was determined to be a good boy, especially for the exam. He continued to count the swats as they landed, though his mind struggled to keep up with it. The pain and pleasure swirled together, and more than that, the brief attention to his cock had made that part of his body much more insistent that it get attention, too. "Yeah, Sir?" he asked breathlessly. "I want all the pretty marks, Sir, please."

Sebastian followed with lustful eyes as droplets of sweat ran down the man's spine, following a particular one that went straight down to his crack.  "I bet you do. I'll make sure to leave some good ones, so you can a have a memory of this night." He bent down, his hands grabbing his bubble butt and squeezing it hard, leaving fingerprints over the now pink surface, then he smacked his crop on it even harder, three more times. "Enough for now" he said, standing up and leaving the crop on the table.

Alex wasn't even sure if what he was feeling was pain or pleasure anymore, but he did know that he enjoyed having Sebastian's hands all over his ass. He whimpered when they went away, but he was rewarded with a few more strikes of the crop, which he counted dutifully. He ended with, "Ten, Sir," before glancing over his shoulder to try to see what the Dom was up to. "Do I get to come soon, Sir? Please?"

Sebastian stood behind the other man, his fingers now pushing the hem of his own pants down to let his now hard cock to spring free. It immediately slapped against the still sensitive surface of his ass. "Don't worry. I remember your limits" he assured him, just in case the other would wonder why he had pushed his pants down. He gave his ass a hard squeeze, then slowly spread his cheeks open a bit. "We can have sex without penetration, trust me" he whispered in his ear, then slid his cock right over his crack and slowly dry humped him, his hands reaching up and holding onto Alejandro's, still bind to the cross. "You want to cum, boy? You've been good tonight, so go ahead-" He licked his earlobe slightly.  "Let go. Let me hear that sweet vouce of yours." 

Alex stiffened in worry when he felt Sebastian hard and naked behind him, but the Dom was quick to reassure him of his intentions. Alex relaxed as much as he could, but he found his body pressing back into Sebastian's, his sore skin burning deliciously. "Mm, yes, Sir, please!" he moaned. His cock twitched impatiently as Sebastian licked his ear, but then he heard the words he hadn't expected: Let go. He rocked his hips forward a couple of times to get that last little bit of pressure that he needed, but then he was coming, his head falling back against Sebastian's shoulder. "Sir!" he shouted out as he spurted between his bod y and the cross. When he was done, he let himself go limp, trusting the rope and the Dom to keep him upright as he basked in his pleasure.

Sebastian grunted when he felt Alejandro pushing back on him, his hands closing tight around the man's as he kept on thrusting forward, rutting the raw skin, even his entrance in the most entincing way, and he could feel the other reacting against his own body, so he knew they were doing things right. "I'm not going to touch you yet... You have to cum from this feeling alone-" he began to say, which was soon followed by the man's climax hitting him hard. When he fell limp over him he made sure to serve him as a support, while he worked into untying him, both his hands and feet. The latter he did by bending down on the floor, with Alejandro practically resting on his back, and once he was done with the cuffs of his feet he grabbed onto him and picked him up, then carried him to the bed, where he let him sit on the edge of it. "You're okay?" he asked him, then reached for a tissue from the box on the night stand and gave it so he could clean himself up.

Alex smiled dopily up at Sebastian from his new spot on the bed. He nodded slowly, though he did shift a bit from cheek to cheek, trying not to put too much pressure on his reddened ass. "Yes, Sir," he murmured as he took the tissue and began to wipe his mess away from his abdomen. "Thank you." He bit his lip as he wiped the strings of come away, and when he was done, he looked back up at the Dom. "You didn't... yet, Sir?" he asked, waving his hand toward the man's crotch.

Sebastian took the dirty tissues from Alex's hand and threw them away, then he looked down and chuckled softly, his cock still poking out of his pants, fully hard. "No. I was saving that treat for you, boy" he said, then stepped forward a bit, his fingers giving it a couple of strokes, then looked at him . "Well? Go ahead and fix it, boy." 

Alex chewed on his lip as Sebastian stepped closer, his face heating up at the thought of his treat. "Yes, Sir!" he said as soon as he was given permission, and he hesitantly wrapped his fingers around the man's cock. It felt hefty in his hand, and he tightened his grip just a bit to compensate before he started to stroke him. "Like this, Sir?" he asked, glancing up at Sebastian's face, hopeful for the Dom's approval.

Sebastian licked his lips when he finally felt his fingers closing around his member, his fingers working quickly into undoing the buttons of his shirt, and he left it hanging open from his shoulders, his muscular frame almost on Alex's face. "That sure feels good" he said with a deep voice, his fingers running through his own hair before he reached down and cupped the man's chin, and he bent over a bit a let his lips brush over Alex's. "I can take it harder than that, boy. Don't be shy. Show me how good you are."

"Yes, Sir," Alex gasped out, Sebastian's praise shooting straight through him and down to his cock, which was already starting to grow hard again. He closed his hand tighter and sped his motions up some, flicking his wrist each time he reached the tip of the man's cock. He shifted again on the bed as he worked, lifting his ass up a bit and putting more pressure on his thighs instead. "Wanna make you feel so good, Sir."

As Alex's rhythm became harder, Sebastian's moans became more continuous. He closed his eyes and threw his head back a little, just talking all the sensation in. He couldn't remember the last time he had had sex without it being about some form, any form of penetration. But it actually took him back to his much younger years, with friends, or his brother, or his partner for the night, when all the time they had was for a handjob. He had actually forgotten you could feel so good with only that too. "You are" he let out with a groan, his hips now thrusting into tyhe funnel of his fist.

Alex beamed with pride as he watched Sebastian get more and more into the handjob. His own dick ached for a touch, but he'd already gotten his reward once. Now, it was time to focus on Sebastian and his pleasure. To keep himself from touching his own needy member, he reached out with his left hand to take hold of Sebastian's balls, fondling them gently as he kept working over his cock. "Tell me-- tell me what you need, Sir?" he asked, his gaze too focused on the Dom's cock to break way and look up at his face for even a second.

Sebastian moaned even louder when he felt his hands on his balls, the two feelings combined making his cock throb inside the man's hand. He opened his eyes and looked down at him, his eyes looking up at him with so much expectation, and he felt the fire coursing through his veins when he noticed he was going hard again. "I can think of something" he said with a restrained voice, then he put his hand on top of Alex's, making it stop moving. "Hold that thought for two seconds, boy. And get in the bed in the meantime." While Alex did as he was told, Sebastian worked into getting himself undressed completely. His eyes fell upon the man on the bed like lion inspecting its prey, then he got into bed with him. "Relax, and trust me. Do you trust me, Alejandro...?" He winked at him, then shifted on the bed, so he was on top of him, both their hard cocks now poking one another, hard and already leaking. "Now... Where were we?" he asked with a cocky grin on his face.

Alex whined loudly when Sebastian stopped him in the middle of his handjob. He was so looking forward to making the Dom come, but he was a good boy and he knew how to follow orders. He bit his lip as Sebastian climbed on top of him. "Yeah--yes, Sir," he replied, nodding. "I trust you, Sir." Suddenly, he felt the Dom's cock pressed up against his own, and he practically had another orgasm right then and there. "Sir!" he cried out, his hands scrambling up to Sebastian's shoulders, where his fingers dug in. "That's-- I-- I'm close again, Sir!"

Sebastian felt the reaction Alex's body had underneath him, and it rippled over his own skin, making a wicked smirk to came to his lips. "No, no. None of that, boy" he said with a low voice, then he closed his hand around the base of the man's cock, squeezing it slightly so he could hold out a bit longer. He moved his hand away and changed with Alex's, so the man's fingers closed around both their cocks. "You have some unfinished business with me, boy. I suggest you get to it" he said, looking him straight in the eye, as his other hand found its way around his neck, his fingers sliding around his throat and squeezing it gently.

Alex panted heavily with the effort of keeping himself on this side of his pleasure. Sebastian's hand helped, though the touch of the Dom's fingers to his cock sent a thrill right through him. "Y-yes, Sir," he managed to get out as he started to run his fingers along both of their cocks together. They were almost too big for his fingers to wrap around at once, but he managed, and he couldn't help but thrust up against Sebastian's cock as well. "Sir," he breathed out again, his eyes widening at the pressure on his throat. "Please," he added, though the sound came out raspy and broken.

Sebastian moaned when he finally felt his fingers around their cocks, his hips thrusting down into the man's fist. He grinned when he saw how riled up the other was, and he gave his neck another soft squeeze. "You get through getting me off first, boy... and then you wil have your reward." Another squeeze, just a bit harder. "Understood?"

Alex nodded as he looked up at Sebastian with wide eyes. This was intense, but it was such a huge turn on, too. He'd definitely have to try this again. "Yes, Sir," he repeated, tightening his grip on their cocks. He moaned at the increased pressure on his own dick, but the sound came out muted with Sebastian's hand against him. "Please, Sir," he managed to get out, "wan' you to... feel so good."

Sebastian's grin became wider, and he let go of his grip around his neck, his hands now holding both sides of his face. "You are... Trust me" he said, his lips brushing over his lips as he spoke, and he then moved his hands up and held onto the headboard to push himself down harder, the friction increasing by the second. "That's it, boy... Come with me..."

Alex gasped out when he had full access to his airway again. He almost came as Sebastian shifted to thrust down against him, taking complete charge of the sex. "Sir," he moaned, struggling to keep himself under control. Even once he had permission, he held himself back, wanting to be a good boy and let the Dom come first.

Sebastian hovered over the other man, grinning and panting as he kept on thrusting his hips down, feeling the heat starting to boil up his spine. "That's it... Oh, you're good, boy..." He bit his lip down and threw his head down a bit, the sudden hit of his climax hitting him at once, while strings of pearly cum coated Alex's hand. While still riding the wave of his own bliss he looked at him and smirked. "You have my permission now, boy. Let go..."

Waiting to come right now was one of the hardest things Alex had ever done in his life. Feeling Sebastian's seed land on his skin was hot - had he really been the one to do that to him? - but he managed to hold off until the Dom told him to come again. "Oh, Sir!" he cried out as he let go, his second load landing on both of them. "Thank you, Sir," he moaned as he collapsed, completely sated, into the mattress.

Sebastian kept on moving to estimulate Alex's orgasm and when he finally came he allowed the other to let himself go completely. When he was done he too fell on the bed beside him, willing his breathing to go back normal. "You're welcome, Alex. You did very good too. It was really good." He stood and this time he grabbed tissues for both to clean themselves up.

Alex took the proffered tissue and wiped their pleasure from his body and hand. He dropped it onto the nightstand next to him when he was done, too boneless and lazy to get up just yet. "Are we... done, Sir?" he asked uncertainly. "Could you come join me again if we are?"

Sebastian alson put the tissue down and smiled. "I think we're good for now. But I'll be glad to accept that gracious invite of yours." He got back on the bed and laid beside him. "Is this okay?" he asked shifting on his side to face him.

As soon as Sebastian had rejoined him on the bed, Alex rolled onto his side and snuggled in closer to the Dom's side. He nodded before tucking head into the man's shoulder. "Very okay, Sir," he murmured.

Sebastian put his arm under Alex's shoulders as got closer to him, his leg also tangling around one of Alex's. "You're such a sweet man" he said, his fingertips tracing the curved lines of his olive skin and down to his hip. "And gorgeous too. Someday you will make some Dom really happy."

Alex blushed at the compliment but managed to get out a, "Thank you, Sir." He couldn't help but give Sebastian a little kiss, just lips pressed against soft lips for a half a second. "You really think so, Sir? I wanna be the best sub."

Sebastian was greatly surprised by the kiss and he returned it just aa gently, even stealing a quick as he pulled back. "I do. I really do. Each one of us is different, but that doesn't need to be a bad thing. And when you find the one, your one you will be great."

Alex blinked at Sebastian, a smile ghosting at his lips as he looked at the other man. "That's really kind of you, Sir," he said. "Especialy since you have a lot of experience."

Sebastian moved a strand of hair off Alex's forehead. "It's true. And because of what you said about my experience you believe me, right?" He pulled him a bit closer and sighed. "It's a shame we can't stay here for the night. These beds are actually very comfortable."

Alex nodded against Sebastian's chest. "Of course I believe you, Sir," he murmured. He chewed his lower lip for a moment. "Who says we can't stay here for the night? I don't wanna move."

Sebastian tilted his head to the side so he could look him in the eye, a grin curling the corner of his lip.  "No one. After all, I did call the room on my name until tomorrow morning." He chuckled, then pullled the other on top of him, his whole upper body resting on him, while their lefs were side by side. "It's a good thing this room has a controlled, warm temperature the, huh?"

Alex laughed lightly. "Definitely, Sir," he agreed. "Though I don't think I'm really gonna be able to get too cold with you right next to me." He buried his toes under Sebastian's calves to prove his point. "Mm, so warm, Sir."

Sebastian smirked. "Are you saying I'm hot, boy? Because I already knew that, but it's nice to hear it from you." He looked at him and winked, then gave him another quick peck on the lips

Alex hadn't actually been trying to reference Sebastian's appearance at all, just his physical body temperature, but the Dom's interpretation wasn't wrong. "Maybe, Sir," he said shyly, his face reddening in embarrassment.

He let his fingertip run down the curve of his nose. "You would be correct then" he said, playfully flicking the tip of his nose.

Alex grinned at Sebastian before dropping his head down onto the man's chest and burrowing into him. "You're really comfy, too, Sir," he said. "I don't think I'm ever moving again."

Sebastian chuckled and put his arms around him. "That would carry some logistics problems, you know." He shifted a bit underneath him so that Alex would be even more comfortable.

"Really, Sir?" Alex asked, sighing contentedly as he settled against the Dom's chest. "I'm not seeing any logistical problems at all here. So comfy."

He let his fingertips to caress Alex's back soothingly. "You said you didn't want to move again. So what about classes, and clubs, and teams and all that.?"

"Not important, Sir," Alex replied. "I don't need classes or clubs or teams if I'm this comfy. I could stay right here like this forever."

Sebastian smiled. "Well... I'm pleased to hear that I make you feel that good and comfortable to make you want to stay forever, Alex."

Alex bit his lip, suddenly wondering if he'd gone too far. "Is that okay, Sir?" he asked uncertainly. "Do you want me to get up?"

Sebastian looked at him and shook his head. "Not at all. I'm quite fine like this. Just rest, boy. You need it." He winked at him playfully.

Alex lifted his head to look up at Sebastian's face as he responded. "Okay, Sir," he said, feeling like a weight had lifted off his shoulders. He was pretty tired after their scene. "Thank you, Sir," he murmured as he closed his eyes and settled in to take a nap.

END SCENE.

#p:alejandro #para #tntevents #event #tntexam #exam #final exam

[pansexualgrapes]

All Better: Part 1

Daryl Dixon x reader

Warnings: mentions and descriptions of abuse, really guys if that bothers you a lot don’t read it, angst, its gonna get pretty sad folks, fluff, implied smut, but no actual smut, kid!Daryl, violence, bullying, smoking, I think that’s it, but if I left you something important please let me know.

Author’s note: I took a really long time writing this one so I hope its good. Please send feedback! I take constructive criticism, but not rude comments from assholes. I hope you enjoy it guys!

You first saw him when you were five years old. You were walking to school holding your mother’s hand when a big yellow school bus stopped in front of the school, its brakes squealing loudly. You watched as kids your age piled out of the bus and disappeared into the crowd of children and parents entering the school. You were amazed at how many there were. You thought that that had to be all the kids, but then you say a pair of tattered shoes with frayed laces going down the bus steps. The ripped cuffs of a pair of jeans covered the tops of the shoes. They were far too big, and they hung off his skinny legs, barely staying on with the help of an old black belt. His shirt was in the same state, the hem was hastily tucked into the front of his jeans, but the back was lose and hung almost to his knees. The long sleeves were rolled up so that his fingertips poked out, and you could see his chewed nails. When you looked up at his face you saw blue nervous eyes obscured by messy brown hair. But what captivated you was the fading purple bruise that was on his cheek. It was yellowing around the edges, and looked about a week old. He quickly looked away from you and ran his sleeve across his nose. Your mother tugged you away from the boy and out of your thoughts, dragging you towards the school.

“He looks a lot like me,” you thought, your fingers gently poking the bruise on your shoulder as you stumbled to catch up with your mother.

You saw the ragged boy in all of your classes. He was seated far away from you in the back, staring out the window or scribbling on his desk. He would often tap his pencil or bounce his knee up and down until the teacher had to tell him to keep still. He never said anything, just set his pencil down and clasped his hands in his lap and stared at them, almost as if he was afraid. 

You saw him again at lunch, sitting alone in the cafeteria. The other boys and girls crowded together, opening their lunch boxes and comparing what their mothers had packed them. He ate a gross-looking sandwich from a cheap plastic baggie. You looked down at your sloppily made PBJ in your hands, in similar packaging. You had been reassured by your teachers that making friends is easy, so you pushed back you fear and walked over to him.

“Can I sit here?” you said in a small voice.

He glanced at you, and hunkered lower in his seat, but nodded. You sat down opposite from him, and looked at him again. He seemed really nervous. You’ve never had a friend before, and maybe he never had one either. Maybe you could be eachothers friend.

“I’m Y/N,” you said.

He was quiet for a moment before speaking. “Daryl.” he mumbled..

His answer gives you the confidence to talk again. “It’s my first day.” you said, taking another bite from your sandwich, swinging your legs that were to short to touch the ground.

“Me too,” he answered, still not looking at you. 

You were quiet for a little bit. Daryl finished his sandwich, and sat there picking at the flaking paint on the table, his knee bouncing nervously. He still looked hungry.

“Do you want the rest of my sandwich?” you questioned.

His eyes got wide and he quickly shook his head no, his cheeks getting flushed.

“You can have it. I’m really not hungry,” you reassured him, holding the half-eaten sandwich out to him. He stared at it for a while, before tentatively reaching and taking it from you. He munched on it hungrily and you giggled. He smiled a little and bent his head down so you wouldn’t see him blush.

“I’ve never had a friend before. Do you want to be my friend?” you asked hopefully.

For the first time he looked you in the eye, brushing the hair from his with his thin fingers. He nodded, and you grinned happily.

After that day, the two of you were as thick as thieves. Every recess and lunch break was spent together, either pushing each other on the swings or playing in the dirt. Daryl still didn’t talk much, but he seemed content to listen to you jabber about anything and everything. Sometimes you’d talk about your mom and you’d both get super serious.

One day, he reached out brushed his fingertips along the bruise barely hidden by the collar of your shirt. You flinched.

“Sorry,” he mumbled.

“It’s okay,” you whispered.

He looked at the bruise again. “Does it hurt?” he asked. You nodded.

“Do yours hurt?” you questioned. He nodded too.

You held your hand out for him, and he took it. You gently pulled back his frayed sleeve to reveal the purple fingerprints on his wrist. He tensed, but didn’t pull his hand back. You leaned down and placed a tiny kiss on his damaged arm.

“All better,” you said, smiling up at him. He smiled back, blushing slightly. Then he did something that he had never done before. He leaned forward and wrapped his arms around your shoulders carefully. You were shocked, but you squeezed him tightly in return. The hug only lasted for a few seconds before he pulled away, and his arms returned to his sides. You both sat in comfortable silence as you watched Daryl’s fingers draw meaningless patterns in the dust.

You went through grade school side-by-side with Daryl, and your friendship strengthened every day. But middle school changed both of your lives. There was no longer alphabet songs, or read-aloud times. No, middle school was filled with boys who smelled like sweat and girls who wore too much perfume. On your first day of middle school, Daryl and you looked at each other with wide eyes and you gripped his hand. You braved the crowd of weird-smelling people and eventually found your lockers. Luckily his was only a few down from yours. Middle school had a different atmosphere. There was a definite hierarchy of kids. It was different that grade school, where the girls would giggle at your messy hair and drab clothes, but would generally leave you alone. At middle school, there were the popular kids, and basically everyone else. The popular girls would wear wedge heels and too much lip gloss. When they walked everyone moved out of their way, as if they were royalty, which they basically were. The popular boys were loud and disruptive. They would flirt with the girls, and they wore expensive sports shoes all the time. As for everyone else, if you were lucky, you were invisible to everyone, instead of getting beat up and bullied. 

On this particular day, Daryl wasn’t lucky enough to be invisible. As he was walking to his locker, he accidentally bumped into a tall boy, wearing a black leather jacket.

“Hey! Watch where you’re going Trailer Trash!” the boy yelled as he shoved Daryl roughly back into the wall. Daryl’s head hit the wall hard and he instantly felt dizzy. You turned the corner just as the bully pushed Daryl. Protective anger filled you and you rushed to him, dropping your books. You shoved the boy back with all your strength and he crashed to the floor, landing on his butt. Everyone in the hall was watching now, including the bully’s friends. Another boy, with similar clothing and hair, grabbed your shoulders and slammed you against the concrete wall. One of his hands clamped around your throat, pinning you to the wall. You let out a strangled yell. Pain erupted through your throat as you struggled for air. Daryl was fighting to help you, but two boys were holding his arms, while another punched him. The boy landed a hard punch to Daryl’s stomach, and Daryl sunk to his knees, groaning. The students around you were cheering and yelling, like it was some sort of hyped up boxing match, and not a completely violent and unfair fight. A woman’s loud voice broke through the shouting. Finally a teacher had come to stop the fight. When the boys saw her they instantly let go of you and Daryl. You sank you your knees, coughing and wheezing. Your eyes watered, and your head pounded. You looked at Daryl to see that he was doubled over and gripping his stomach. The teacher marched the boys to the principles office, after instructing Daryl and you to go to the nurses office. You both staggered there, supporting each other till you were able to collapse on the bench. The nurse asked you what happened, and you explained it all, knowing that Daryl wasn’t one for words. He looked pale and afraid, and you realized what he just had. This was going to be told to your parents, and your parents never liked it when you messed up, especially in school, in a public place where people could see you and talk about you. You gulped and stared at him with wide eyes. He looked up at you and saw tears brimming in your eyes. He reached over and squeezed your hand, trying to comfort you. You gripped his hand just as hard. The nurse checked you both over, and luckily there were no broken bones. You had bruises, and Daryl had a busted lip. but you weren’t worried about the pain you felt now. It was the pain that was sure to come in the future that terrified you. The nurse finally let the both of you go, and you both gathered your stuff and walked out of the school together. You walked in silence until you got to Daryl’s street. He stopped and looked at you sadly. You pulled him into a tight hug, and he reciprocated the hug. You clung to each other in terror of what was to come. You buried your face in his shoulder, trying to hide your tears, but he noticed anyway. Your body shook with sobs. Daryl buried his nose in your hair. He could smell your shampoo, a scent that he loved.

“We’re gonna be okay,” he muttered. “We are.”

You nodded, and pulled back to wipe your nose and eyes. You looked up into his glassy eyes and took a deep breath.

“We’re gonna be okay.” you repeated, resting your forehead against his.

Eventually, the terrors of middle school were behind you. You were now in your sophomore year, sixteen years old. You had both gotten through the tortuous first couple years of puberty, and high school wasn’t nearly as hell-like as middle school. Though you still didn’t fit in, you stuck together through it all. A lot had happened in the last couple years. Your mom had been driving drunk, and hit someone. She was charged with manslaughter, and she went to jail. The relief you felt when you had been sent to live with your aunt, who was just fifteen minutes away, was indescribable. You still went to school with Daryl, and even though your aunt wasn't perfect, she took care of you, and treated you kindly. Daryl’s drifting older brother had shown up out of the blue, and Daryl had managed to get out from under his father’s roof. He lived with his brother now, and although Merle was a trouble-maker, and pressured Daryl into doing stupid things, it was still better than living with his father.

It’s May, and the sun was out as Daryl and you sat under a tree in the shade. You had discarded your sandals and now the grass tickled you toes. Daryl remained in his sleeveless button-up shirt, black jeans and scuffed up boots. You were jabbering away about something you’d seen on TV last night. Daryl wasn’t really listening. He was staring at you, your lips when you smiled, your hair framing the edges of your face, the way your nose scrunched up when you laughed. God he was so in love with you. He never could get up the courage to ask you. You friendship was so important to him, he was scared he would ruin it if he told you he liked you. His thoughts were interrupted by your voice.

“So what do you think? Pick me up around 8:00 tonight?” you questioned.

“Um... yeah, that sounds good.” he answered, not knowing what he was agreeing to. You laughed then. He loved that laugh, your head thrown back, eyes crinkled, a wide grin on your lips.

“You weren’t listening at all, were you Dixon?” you giggled.

He smiled. “Um, no. I wasn’t,” he admitted. 

You laughed again. “I said we should go to that cliff by the lake tonight, swim a little maybe.”

He nodded. “Okay, sure.”

He picked you up right on time. You were in a t shirt and shorts. Daryl was in his regular clothes, with no intention of changing into anything that is above his ankles. You hopped on the back of his motorcycle, and wrapped your arms around his waist. You trusted him completely and he never drove unsafely when you rode with him. You rested your cheek on his back, feeling comfortable and safe, enjoying the wind rushing past you, and the feeling of Daryl’s heartbeat under your fingertips. 

You finally got to the cliff, and carefully picked your way down the rocks until you got to the beach at the bottom. Daryl reached up a hand to help you down the last rock and you accepted it gratefully. You didn't let go of his hand as you lead him over to a patch of sand to sit with you. He took out a pack of cigarettes and offered you one. The both of you smoked for a while in a comfortable silence, just enjoying each others company. You stubbed the last of your cigarette out in the sand and stood up, holding your hand out to Daryl.

“Swim with me.” you whispered. 

He just nodded, taking your hand and standing up. You stepped back to take of your shirt and shorts, leaving you in your bikini. Daryl’s breath caught in his throat, and he coughed nervously, rubbing the back of his head. You looked beautiful in the moonlight, the light from the water reflecting off of you, revealing the parts of your body Daryl knew you hated, all your freckles, stretch marks and scars, a lot of scars. He still thought you were just as beautiful.

You laughed at his nervousness, “Come one Dixon, you’ve seen me change before.” 

You headed towards the water, motioning for him to follow you. He struggled out of his worn boots and took off his socks. Then he unbuttoned his shirt and shrugged it off his shoulders, feeling it slide over the scars on his back. He unbuckled his belt and let his pants fall down before kicking them to the side. He felt nervous, being this exposed to you, but he couldn’t imagine doing this with anyone else. He waded into the cool water after you. You swam up to him, your hair wet and dripping. You stood next to him. The water was chest deep on you, and a little bit over Daryl’s belly-button. You reached out and traced one of the scars on Daryl’s chest gently with your finger. You felt his heartbeat quicken. You looked up into his eyes, and they were full of pure love and adoration. He tucked a piece of hair behind you ear, and then let his hand rest on the side of your face, his thumb brushing against your cheekbone. You moved a little closer so you could wrap your arms around his neck, your fingers playing with hair at the base of his skull. His arms went around your waist, and the two of you just held each other, swaying a little in the water. Daryl couldn’t pretend anymore. He felt like his heart was about to burst. He pulled back enough to look into your eyes. He rested his forehead against yours, your lips were impossibly close.

“Y/N.” he whispered.

“Yeah?” you breathed.

“I love you.”

You stared up at him. “I love you too.”

Daryl kissed you then. His lips were soft and gentle, not demanding or pushy. The kiss only lasted for a couple seconds, and he pulled back to look at you, to make sure that that was okay. Your eyes fluttered open and met his.

“I have loved you since the day I met you, Daryl Dixon,” you whisper.

You brought your lips to his in another kiss. His arms pulled your body impossibly close to his. He kissed you soft, slow, and sweet. The two of you basked in that moment, so full of love for each other. Your legs wrapped around his waist, and his fingers tangled in your wet hair.

He made love to you that night, on the towel you had laid out on the sand. It wasn’t rushed or rough. He was gentle, whispering promises of love to you, telling you how beautiful you were.

After, he held you against him, his fingers nonchalantly tracing patterns on your bare skin under his shirt that you were wearing. The moonlight shone down on you, and the only sound was the waves washing up on the shore.

“I’ll love you forever.” Daryl whispered to you.

“Forever,” you repeated.

There will most likely be a Part II so stay tuned!

#daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon #daryl x you #daryl x reader #daryl dixon fanfiction #twd #The Walking Dead #the walking dead fanfiction #Norman Reedus #daryl dixon angst #the walking dead angst #daryl Dixon x reader angst #daryl Dixon fluff #merle dixon #fanfiction #All Better #writing #daryl Dixon x you #daryl dixon x y/n

[cocojimin]

Terrible Twos Extras-

Closing Shift

Here’s the first extra on how Cal & Y/N met! Please request any extra you’d like for this series!

Terrible Twos

Part 1/Part 2/Part 3/Part 4/Part 5

Masterlist

Request or Chat

“Hey Y/N,I’m gonna need you to close up today. Wendy had to call off.” Your boss gave you a sympathetic smile as you carried on organizing the countless racks of garments.

You worked in a modern and stylish store,and it was very popular. With the popularity came the busy atmosphere,getting hundreds of customers every hour on the hour.

Since multiple celebrities were seen with pieces from the store,the business rocketed. It took some time getting used to,but now you were pretty much immune to the constant throng of people and the occasional celebrity.

Closing was the most frequented by more famous people so they would have the store virtually to themselves. You hated closing,it was always a hassle to organize the clothes that some disrespectful patrons would just leave everywhere.

Today was no exception.

Just as you were busying yourself with yet another rack,you heard the the jingle of the door opening,followed by the monotone beep.

You sighed and dropped your shoulders with a hefty breath,making your way to the doorway of the store. Looking up you saw 4 gorgeously tall men surveying the clean and open section,laughing and holding garments up to themselves.

“Hello,I’m Y/N do you guys need any help tonight?” You spoke,voice full of confidence and stance meaning business as the lanky blonde man shot you a smile.

“Uh,Yeah we have a big party we’re going to tomorrow and need some nice outfits.” He scratched the back of his neck and waited timidly for a reply,switching his weight on his other foot.

You simply nodded and asked for his name to which he said Luke. Suddenly,the pieces started to click together and you noticed that this was the band 5 Seconds Of Summer standing in front of you.

Before you could say anything to him,Calum peeked from behind his band mates wide back and smiled down at you.

“Hi I’m Calum,are you gonna be styling us?” The pit in your stomach erupted into butterflies as he extended his golden and tattoo covered arm,prompting you to shake his hand.

“I’m Y/N and yes,we can start one by one. Is that okay guys?” Your tone of seriousness made Michael and Ashton’s heads shoot up from where they were playing around,seeing as you indeed took your job seriously.

You led the four boy into the private back room and your co-worker Dallon gave them the ‘Celebrity treatment’,which was champagne,the television,and a selection of nice hors d’oeuvres. The first person you decided to crack down on was Luke Hemmings.

Standing at 6’2 (at best),he had a wide upper body with a skinner lower body. You scanned his outfit,grasping his sense of style and working your way to elevate it.

“You look like you’re good at what you do,Y/N” He said,watching you expertly find exactly what you were looking for and holding it up to his body.

“I guess you could say that.”

You finally decided on dressing him up in a modern,stylish and laid back look. The white V-neck hug his wide top half just right with a little chest chair peeking out. Two silver necklaces laid in the gap between the V-neck of the shirt. The black jeans hugging his lower half,a small distressed slit in the knee showing the smooth skin. The blue and silver satin bomber jacket resting on his shoulders,decorative embroidery popping out on his pack. And to tie the look together,heeled silver boots adorned his feet.

You took one look at your creation and smiled to yourself,knowing you were unstoppable when it came to having a keen sense of fashion.

Turning to face the mirror,Luke’s jaw dropped as he got a glance at himself.

“W-woah Y/N...This looks amazing!” He turned back to you,pulling your body into his and wrapping you up in a thankful hug.

“I do what I can Luke.” Was all you said before giving him a knowing smirk. You waiting until he took off the garments before taking them to the front register and putting them in a bag,quickly writing his name on the tag.

The next boy to get styled was Ashton. You knew that his style was more laid back and older than the other boys.

It took you a minute to ponder all of your options before you settled on dressing him in a ‘greaser’ esque fashion.

“How long have you been working here?” He asked as the two of you rounded a corner of the store to the more dressy section.

“I’ve been working here for 3 years,Fashion always has a place in my heart.”

He attentively watched you work your magic,seeing the gears in your mind turn as you paired different pieces together. Finally,you landed on a simple base outfit with a staple piece.

Ashton dawned a White button down,leaving the first few unbuttoned. The black slacks hugged his hips and thighs before cuffing slightly at the ankle.On his feet were black combat like boots,with the cuff of the ankle draping over the top. The statement piece was a nice leather jacket,with red embroidered lips on the back of it. You turned him around to face the large mirror and watched as yet again you had another happy customer.

“This is fuckin awesome!”

Again,you took Ashton’s clothes to the front and placed them in a labeled bag,making your way to the private area for the third time.

Next on your roster was Michael. His style was fairly relaxed and very modern.

“So,Y/N my mate Calum over there thinks you’re really pretty.” Michael said when you were far enough away from the other boys. He nudged your shoulder as you paid him no mind,looking in front of the rack to find an outfit that suited him.

“Well Michael,why don’t you tell him to man up and say it himself,” Pushing the hung up clothes in two different directions,finally finding what you were looking for. Michael let out a sigh as you placed the clothes across his outstretched arms and shooing him in the direction of the dressing room.

For Michael,you decided to elevate his casual look to a more detailed but chill outfit.

You paired simple black skinny jeans and a vintage black band tee to be the base layer of his outfit. On his shoulders was a acid wash denim jacket,and on his feet were high top ‘punk boots’. They were decorated in leather straps with a glossy finish to them.

You folded your arms across your chest and motioned with your head for him to turn towards the mirror,smirking at another success of an outfit.

“Holy fuck Y/N! You’re amazing!”

You couldn’t help but giggle at his enthusiasm as he began to strike different poses in the elongated mirror.

After a full minute of him basking in his new look,you pushed him back in the dressing room,soon getting a pile of clothes placed in your hands.

Calum was your final client of the day. There was a reason you chose him to be last,the main one being that you simply couldn’t keep your eyes off of him. He was wearing a simple distressed black shirt and tight grey joggers with black vans.

Even in lounge wear,he still stole your breath with one glance in his direction.

“So,did Michael tell you?”

“He did actually.”

As you pulled him to one of your favorite sections of the store,he leaned on a free wall,crossing his strong arms infrong of him chest.

“He wasn’t lying ya know,You are the most beautiful girl here.” You chocked back a laugh,trying to hide your growing smile by putting your face deeper in a rack of pants.

“I’m the only girl here,Calum”

He laughed and brushed by you to stand by a fancily dressed mannequin.

“Shh,don’t listen to her beautiful,she didn’t mean it.”

He stood to the side of the mannequin and covered her ears,earning a loud and brash laugh from the pits of your stomach.

You turned around with a completed outfit in hand and passed it off to Calum who just cocked an eyebrow in your direction.

“So you’re not gonna say Thank You?”

“Thank you Calum,now go try this on please!”

As he walked towards the dressing room,you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding. Your shoulders slumped from exhaustion while you made your way to the secluded area where Calum was changing.

“Are you all done in there Calum?”

He hesitated a little before he stuck him head out of the black curtain.

“You sure about this outfit? I’ve never tried this before...”

His shyness took you by surprise as you can see his insecurities come out of hiding with the new garments on.

“Let me see Cal”

Nervously,he pulled back the curtain and fully stepped out into your view. Your eyes raked his tall frame and made you take tiny steps back to drink him all in.

A tight fitting grey turtleneck sat nicely on his upper body,the long sleeves slightly showing his toned arms. Skinny dark blue plaid slacks gripped his hips and legs sweetly as they came to a cuff at the ankle. Black heeled boots were on his feet,short enough to where a small gap exposed his black dress socks underneath.

“Aren’t you gonna say anything?” You gulped and nodded your head,taking one more look at his outfit.

“Stay right there,Something’s missing.”

You walked to the front of the store,finding exactly what was needed to complete the outfit for Calum.

Clipping the chains into two of his belt loops and fixing the cuff of his collar and pant,you smiled up at him.

“Perfect!” Putting your hands on his slim hips,you pushed him in front of the large mirror,watching him take in his entire outfit. He watched your expression in the mirror as well,hands still on his hips now biting your bottom lip.

He turned around in your hands,grabbing your upper arm and looking at you with a serious expression on his face.

“Y/N,What do you think about a date?”

Confusion overtook your features as you watched his every move.

“A date with you? You and me? Together?” He laughed,causing his eyes to crinkle and the delicious noise to fall from his full lips. He nodded,not being able to stop laughing to he could answer you surf his words.

“Hell yes. If you wear something like this then that’ll change to a Fuck yes.”

His giggles started to cease as he quickly retrieved his phone out of the dressing room and dropping it in your hands.

“No passcode on it,I’ll change while you put your number in there.”

His sudden breath of coolness caught you off guard as you stood flabbergasted,staring at the now closed black curtain.

“I don’t here typing Y/N.” He called from behind the curtain,jolting your body to unlock his phone and save your contact. Calum came out with his new clothes in hand,cockily smirking at you as you both switched items.

“Cute dog.”

You turned on your heel and it was Calum’s turn to be left shocked by the sudden actions.

You rung the boys items up and passed them each their labeled bags as they thanked you profusely for styling them. You dropped a box containing some nice rings into Calum’s bag,sliding it across the counter with a wink. He started to pull out his wallet to pay you for the rings when your hand came down on top of the black leather.

“It’s on the house,enjoy your party tomorrow.” He took the hint and slid it back into his pocket,lifting the bag off of the counter and starting to walk out of the store.

Before he could fully exit the double doors,he turned his head black towards you and called over his shoulder that he’ll text you later. You giggled as your coworker Dallon laughed at the scene in front of him.

Maybe closing shift wasn’t always so bad.

#5sos #5 seconds of summer #calum hood #luke hemmings #michael clifford #ashton irwin #5sos writing #5sos imagines #5sos smut #5sos imagine #5sos blurbs #5sos fluff #daddy 5sos #calum hood blurb #calum hood writing #calum hood fluff #calum hood drabble #calum hood smut #calum hood imagine #calum hood imagines #my writings #terrible twos #terrible twos extras

[taronfanfic]

Satisfying Temptations - Smutty Wednesday

Voices filled the studio as the subject for the cover shoot made his entrance and warmly greeted everyone before being directed straight through to you in the back room. Black denim shorts hung loosely from his hips and showed off his shapely calves, his grey t-shirt hugged his biceps and a black baseball cap topped off his very casual attire. You quickly moved your arm up and over his shoulder as he ignored your invitation for a handshake and pulled you in for a friendly hug.

“Hi, I’m Taron.” He was full of energy and excitement as he stepped back and introduced himself.

“Y/N, I’ll be styling you for the shoot today but I’m already a bit behind so just give me one minute.” You turned away from him and took in a deep breath as you looked over the racks of clothes and selection of shoes and wondered where to start.

“Oh I’ve brought a suit with me so let me know where you want it.” Taron added as he placed his bags down in the corner.

“On?” You laughed. “Might as well start formal and we’ll work our way back to casual.”

“Yes boss.” He saluted you jokingly and kicked his shoes off before closing the door through to the main studio. You kept your back to him as you slid some items along the clothing rack, mentally noting a few pieces which would work well together, but the clothes didn’t hold your attention for long. He dropped his shorts to the floor and you felt your eyes widen as you caught sight of the side of his thigh in the mirror, the prominent curve of his quads perfectly balanced against his toned arse. You should have known his thighs were going to be a dream when you clocked his calves earlier. As he turned to face you your eyes darted away and you continued to skim over the clothes rail, pretending to be thinking about anything other than how good his leg would feel tightly clenched between yours.

“How do I look?” He asked as he stepped towards you and tugged the cuffs of his white shirt out from the sleeves of his grey jacket. You took the chance to look him up and down deliberately, it was your job after all, before straightening up his tie and brushing your hands across his shoulders.

“It’s a very good fit on you, nice and tight.” You moved away and picked out a pair of black shoes, deliberately bending over in your A-line skirt and heeled boots instead of crouching down. It was a little trick that had worked countless times before when you wanted to be noticed. Taron closed his mouth and swallowed as you handed the shoes over and you knew you’d made the kind of impact you wanted.

He oozed confidence in front of the camera, posing freely, knowing where his light was and how to do the signature male smoulder that never failed to get you going. You couldn’t take your eyes off him as you lingered in the doorway and watched the shoot proceed. As props and furniture were added into the scene Taron took his chance to meet your gaze, smiling softly at you and then mirroring your pose, arms folded, one leg crossed behind the other, resting the toe of his shoe to the floor and leaning up against the wall. The photographer snapped away candidly at him and it made him laugh at you, his face scrunching up in delight.

“You looked like you were enjoying that.” He spoke under his breath as he brushed passed you in the doorway. You closed the door behind you and Taron was already undoing the buttons of his waistcoat and slipping it off his shoulders.

“No one turns down eye candy, especially not your favourite flavour.”

“Oh really?” Taron replied smugly. “And what flavour might that be, exactly?” It was all too tempting to rush in and reveal everything in the hope that you’d end up in his lap sooner but you resisted. Dragging things out would only make the ending even better.

“I’m sure you’ll figure it out soon enough.” You teased back, turning away and pulling out a pair of slim black jeans and a royal blue jumper to go over a simple white t-shirt. Holding a straight face as you passed the items to Taron was a challenge when he was stood before you in only his black boxers, resting his hands in front of his crotch so at least something would be left to your imagination.

“So the novelty of seeing practically naked men day in, day out, hasn’t worn off yet?” He asked cheekily as he pulled the t-shirt on over his head.

“Or in other words, do I still get wet at the sight?” You placed your hands to your hips and waited for his reaction, receiving raised eyebrows, a slow nod and a pout of impression.

“Sexy… So do you?” He started to pull the jeans up his legs and you watched the material cling and drag across the skin of his thighs. You’d started off with a slim fit rather than skinny but god they looked good on him.

“Not so much with male models. Very little behind the eyes and once you’ve seen one six-pack you’ve seen them all. Actors on the other hand…” You turned away and unboxed a clean white pair of high top Converse, lacing them up as Taron tugged the jumper down to his hips.

“So it’s my lucky day then?” He smirked filthily and you felt your stomach drop in anticipation. More like your lucky day!

Taron took to the more relaxed shoot setting with ease, lazing back in a comfy chair and resting one leg over the other as he rattled through his smiles, smirks and cheeky grins. He stood up and pulled the blue jumper off over his head causing the photographer to go into rapid fire as the white tshirt rode up his stomach and revealed some flesh. You received the nod from the magazine editor and backed yourself into the changing room, pulling out a pair of lighter washed denim skinny jeans and nothing else.

“Not digging the cheeky chappie?” Taron commented on your disappearance from the doorway as he joined you and stripped down to his boxers again.

“Cute’s not really my thing…” You handed over the next pair of jeans and watched Taron force his foot through to the end and yank them up his leg.

“Jesus, these are tight!” He continued his battle for a moment, securing the button and pulling the zip up before looking up to see you biting your lower lip at him. “You never did tell me what your thing is…”

“You sure you want to know?” The denim was so tight on his thighs, accentuating the curve and the thickness. The waistband of his boxers rested just above the top of his jeans, the rest of his torso bare and firm. He didn’t have chiselled abs or pecs but he was toned and muscular and you were dying to get your hands all over him. You weren’t normally like this, but it had been so long since you’d seen a pair of thighs so appealing. You could barely hold eye contact with him.

“The longer you keep looking at me like that the more convinced I am that I’m about to find out…” Taron left the room and you swallowed hard before taking in a very deep breath. This would be so much easier to handle if he wasn’t interested.

The position you held in the doorway kept drawing out subtle glances from Taron as he returned to his smouldering looks, posing with one arm up to the back of his neck, the other jammed into the front pocket of his jeans. The light cast the perfect shadow against his sharp jaw, drawing your eyes down his body and lingering over his legs which were spread apart into a powerful stance. The photographer directed him down to his knees and you felt your jaw drop wider as his thighs bulged. He spread his legs and lent his weight back slightly, holding both hands behind his head and pouting straight down the lens. You couldn’t take it anymore. You were so wet for him.

You drew your eyes away from his body and dragged the nearest chair back into the changing room, leaving it in the centre of the room before moving your hands under your skirt and dropping your damp underwear to the floor. Even if things didn’t end up going your way you had a set of new images securely stored in your mind and a showerhead at home with your name on it. As you waited for Taron you were hit with an idea, fetching your knickers from your bag and slipping them into the top of Taron’s bag instead. Something for him to remember you by.

“Apparently we’re finished for the day, but I can’t help feeling that we have some unresolved business to attend to…” The look he gave you as he re-entered the room was the final straw. His hands dropped to undo his jeans as you walked towards him.

“Your body looked so good in that light.” You held his wrists and pulled them away from his open jeans.

“I wouldn’t normally enjoy posing in that way, but knowing you were watching me… getting turned on by me. It’s so hot.” He leant in and kissed you seductively, his tongue darting across your lips and trying to take things further already.

“Y/N, we’re off to grab some lunch at the pub down the road. Meet us there when you’re done!” The photographer called out and Taron instantly pulled back from your lips.

“Will do!” You replied before looking across to the chair you’d brought into the room. “Sit.” You ordered Taron to the chair now you knew he definitely wanted more. He followed your orders and sat with his legs apart, his hands hanging down over the edge of the seat as he waited for you. The mischievous glint in his eye was inviting, you could tell he was curious and you were certain he’d be new to this experience. Mad to think that those thighs hadn’t been truly appreciated yet.

You stepped one leg either side of Taron’s and hitched your skirt up before sitting down over his leg, finally getting to feel how solid his thigh was. A gentle squeeze pushed him up into your crotch and you struggled to contain your moan as the denim pressed against your folds. You caressed his other leg with your hand as you looked down at him and waited for his reaction. He moved a hand to your neck and pulled you down against his lips so he could kiss you forcefully. As you leant into him your shift in weight pressed harder against your clit and you dragged yourself higher up his leg, opening your mouth as you struggled to fight against the urge to ride him straight away.

“Fuck, you’re making these jeans damp already.” Taron commented as his other hand moved to your waist, ready to lift you away from him.

“That’s because I’m not wearing any underwear.” You whispered back to his ear before kissing just below the lobe, trailing your lips down to the top of his shoulder.

“Let me fuck you?” He pleaded back as he caressed your breasts through your top. “I know you’ve been wanting it all morning.”

“It’s not your dick I’ve been after…” You pulled back from him and placed one hand to his shoulder, the other to the very top of his thigh between your legs. Starting slowly you rocked your hips back and forth, just shifting the pressure up and down and creating a smooth rhythm. “Your thighs are a dream.” You moaned softly as you squeezed your legs together again, this time feeling Taron clench his muscle beneath you. “Yes!” You cried out.

“My thighs turn you on?” He asked, causing you to look back to his face and smile softly at his confusion.

“Like you wouldn’t believe. I put you in these jeans for a reason and now I’m going to ruin them.” You dragged yourself back down his thigh, leaning your weight forward and pressing down hard against him. It set your clit alight and you dropped your head to his shoulder as you felt him clench again beneath you, the power in his muscle sharp and solid.

“Fucking hell, I did not expect to find this so hot.” His hand moved to the top of his open jeans and grabbed as his hard cock through his boxers. He watched you circle your hips, dragging them up and down his thigh as you pleasured yourself and he couldn’t help but stroke himself. “Do you do this often?” He revealed himself and you had to look, intrigued to see if his girth matched to the proportion of his thighs. You were not disappointed.

“Shut up and kiss me and I’ll let you fuck me when I’m done.” You replied as you moved back up his thigh and tongued his open mouth forcefully. A low groan met your kiss and you started to up your pace, lightening the touch between your burning clit and his damp denim. You pressed your hand down harder into the top of his thigh as you rode him quickly, pulling away from the kiss as your head fell back in pleasure. You could hear his hand working furiously against the head of his dick and feel his eyes focused intensely on your face as your mouth stayed open, eyes tightly closed, hips grinding down harder against him again.

“Come on, baby.” He tensed his thigh and released it rapidly as he pushed you over the edge. “That’s it.” He encouraged as he felt you shudder around his leg, satisfied breaths firing out into the room as you self-indulged. It felt every bit as good as you’d first hoped. Those thighs were made to be ridden. As you relaxed down from your high and lifted your weight off Taron’s leg he was still working rapidly against his cock. He looked down to see the wet patch you’d left behind and he lost it there and then, bucking his hips up as he shot his load over his stomach.

“I guess I owe you one… should our paths ever cross again.”

@egerton-sweetie @lizziespidiepridie @oheggsyno @tiffleen @taronxfiction @misspygmypie @marvelmakeuplover @welcometotheg0odlife @istandandan @leanimal90 @5-seconds-of-sarcasmm @baileythepenguin @thatphantomhivemistress @hartirl @manners-maketh-taron @anantheminmyheart22  @original-criminal-fanfics 

#taron egerton #Smutty Wednesday #Taron x reader #Taron Egerton Fanfic #taron egerton fanfiction #one shot #thigh riding

[jenobloom]

WHY DO I BOTHER? (Chapter 1)

Kia Weon is a newly born idol, fresh from debut, and she hates her image. Her debut didn’t do too well so now Pledis have decided that she will be the one to provide vocals for Seventeen’s newest song ‘Q&A’ and in the process she makes 12 new friends but one enemy. A relationship becomes a thing that happens and a huge change in her career puts friendships on the line.

Word count: 3,141 words

Warnings: None

A random (and probably boring) thing I’ve started working onnn, not super sure where this is gonna go but hey, it’s a work in progress so feel free to suggest things.

I quickly scanned my appearance over in the full-length mirror outside the door to the recording studio once more to make sure that I looked presentable. My thin black oversized Monsta X long sleeved shirt with Changkyun’s stage name and birth year on the back of it hung loosely from my small, short frame and stopped at mid-thigh and was paired with a pair of short black bicycle shorts that were hidden under the shirt to prevent accidental flashing, worn black combat boots and one of Hoseok’s long leather chokers wrapped around my neck; the dark clothing contrasted pleasingly with my bright violet hair and my pale, makeup-less face was half hidden by a black cotton mask.

“Okay Kia, you can do this.” I breathed before walking quietly in to the studio, a smile forced on to my lips as I nervously walked in to the room despite nobody being able to see it.

The room was tiny, a small sofa was stuffed in to one corner of the room and a desk with a few monitors, medium sized white speakers and other complicated looking studio equipment was pressed against the recording booth wall about a step away from the sofa. Perched stiffly in the chair in front of the desk was a guy with a blonde undercut hairstyle and, like my own, his hands were tucked in to the cuffs of a black oversized hoodie to form sweater paws while black skinny jeans that had been rolled up at the ankles hugged his legs, complimenting his thin build. A pair of large rounded glasses were perched upon his nose and shielded his eyes that were slightly turned upwards at the ends due to his inviting polite smile, he nervously jumped up from his chair to greet me and was roughly only an inch taller than my small 5-foot 3 frame.

“Hi, it’s nice to meet you. I’m Lee Jihoon, the producer, you must be Weon Kia?” He awkwardly introduced himself with a bow, nearly knocking in to me as he did due to how close together we were forced to stand.

“Yeah, I’m Weon Kia. It’s nice to meet you!” I bowed back awkwardly also, straightening up and looking at him once more. “Excuse my Korean and very basic etiquette, it’s been a while since I’ve had to speak the language so much and it’s also my first time back in Korea since I was 7 and so I’ve grown to the British ways.”

“That’s fine, what is your lunar age?”

The question caught me off slightly, I knew it was a simple and unoffensive question however, my mind was still slightly accustomed to the western ways.

“Um… I’m 17?”

“19, shall we make a start on recording?”

I silently nodded, finding the atmosphere to be slightly thick and conversation awkward, placing my phone and earphones on the desk beside Jihoon and slipping in to the small recording booth, pulling the headphones on to my head then sliding my facemask to sit on my chin so it didn’t muffle my voice. I stared at Jihoon as I waited for him to tell me what to do next, feeling uncomfortable in the silent room as I was still only a rookie in the huge world of idols and so I still had to get used to the atmosphere of recording booths.

“Okay, could you say or sing something in to the mic please to test that everything is working?” Jihoon’s authorative voice flooded the silent room, making me panic a little as I realised that he was putting me on the spot as a younger looking boy walked in to the room and perched himself on the small grey sofa. Out of panic I began to rap Jooheon’s first part in the song Interstellar, nervously laughing as I noticed how it threw Jihoon off a little as his eyebrows rose and his eyes widened slightly before focussing on one of his screens.

“Okay so the mic works, let’s go!”

Gulping once, I cleared my throat as the familiar music began to play from the headphones. The recording process flowing smoothly, Jihoon only having to correct me on my pronunciation and pitch a handful of times before I was able to step out of the booth and was faced with the newcomer of the room who had been staring at me for the 20 minutes that I sang.

“Hello, I’m Weon Kia, it’s nice to meet you!” I bowed and smiled politely to the boy who looked to be my age.

“Hey, I’m Lee Chan, nice to meet you also!”

His smile was incredibly inviting, flanked by slightly chubby cheeks that gave his face a super cute shape; not too rounded but also not too sharp. His deep brown eyes were framed by a pair of rounded, thin gold framed glasses and his grey/blonde un-styled hair flopped over them gently. We took a seat back on the sofa and listened intently as Jihoon played the nearly finalised song over the speakers with my voice finally filling the gaps that were there previously, noting down things that would need to be adjusted to improve the quality of the song. My fingers played nervously with the earbuds of my earphones that now rested in my lap on top of my phone, producing a clinking noise when they occasionally hit the screen and causing me to cringe as I was aware of Chan’s attention being drawn to me.

“So…have you debuted yet?” His first word dragged out awkwardly to initiate a conversation as he shifted in his seat to face me better.

“Yeah, I didn’t do as well as expected though which is why Pledis are getting me on as many things as possible. They’re worried that their money will get wasted if I don’t pick up views and fans and stuff like that.”

“Oh, I’m sure you’ll do great! It just needs time; would you mind if I saw your debut video?”

I winced a little at the question, cringing as I realised how rude it would be to flat out refuse the boy. Despite my brain protesting completely against it, I plugged my earphones in to my phone and pulled the music video up for my debut song ‘ice cream cake’, handing Chan both my phone and an earbud as I put one in to my own ear before pressing play and settling my gaze on his face to watch for reactions. Confusion flashed across his features as he recognised me among the back up dancers, the confusion intensifying as he took in the lyrics, dance, video concept and my general appearance; the pastel appearance and soft voice obviously contrasting to my out of work look. He bobbed along softly to my voice and the beat and eventually gave the phone and earbud back to me once it had ended, he didn’t say anything straight away, he almost hesitated with his words as he looked back up at my face, seeming like he was considering his words carefully as to avoid offending.

“I liked it! It’s just…is that actually you because you seem so different in person an-“

“Lee Chan, you can’t speak to her like that!” Jihoon snapped like a parent would, swivelling in his chair to shoot the younger boy a disapproving look as Chan’s question fell upon his ears.

“No, I didn’t mean it like that! I’m sorry if it came across that way but-“

“It’s okay, honestly. I understand what you mean,” I let out an awkward laugh, my cheeks warming up a little as I caught Chan’s wide eyes. “Pledis thought I wouldn’t be able to work the ‘bad girl’ look so they’ve given me the whole bubble gum act, I don’t enjoy it at all, it’s far from my true self. Dark clothing, rappers and more thought out, artistic lyrics and music videos are my type of thing. The only thing I like about my debut song is the wordplay and I look fairly okay in baby pink clothing,” I glanced over at Jihoon and back at Chan, the younger of the two looked to be deep in thought, “is there another question you want to ask or…”

“I’m sorry if this sounds extremely rude but what’s your nationality? Because you don’t look like you’re from Korea, but you pronounce everything so well but you also have an accent of some kind and I’m a little confused, you don’t have to answer but I’m curious.”

“I’m British, I was born in Korea and so I speak fluently but I moved back to England with my parents to be closer to the other members of my family when I was 7 so I’m a bit rusty with the language and how Korea works. I’m pretty sure it’s the only reason I was accepted in to training too.” I chuckled lightly at his question, it was a question I would frequently get so it didn’t offend me in the slightest and only amused me as I gave him my scripted answer that I usually saved for TV.

“I see, so you’re here to stay now then?” I nodded, taking note of how his squishy cheeks were now dusted with a light pink colour. “Would you like to come back to the dorm for lunch?”

My eyes widened a little at how straight-forward he was being, his hands that were wrapped in the oversized sleeves of his orange top in insecurity flew up to hide his reddening face as I began laughing, any awkwardness from this morning washing away as I realised that these boys were just as bad at interacting with others as I was.

“I-I mean, like, because I thought it would be nice for us all to get to know each other and stuff? Like you can meet Seungchol and Vernon who are on this track alongside you and that kind of… thing.”

“I appreciate it,” I giggled and gently pulled his hands away from his face to make eye contact with him. “I’ll take the offer, it would be nice to make some more friends here. I don’t have many at the moment.”

“Jihoon hyung, will you be joining us?”

The hard-working blonde ripped his eyes away from the screen once more for a few seconds, seeming to have only just caught what was being said to him, his hands never leaving the keyboard and mouse however as his head turned to greet our now standing selves.

“No thank you, I’ll grab something later. Kia, I’ll text you when the song is ready for you to hear so you can come and listen to it.”

“thank you,” I bowed a little and earned a small smile back before following Chan out of the studio door, bringing my mask back over my mouth and nose.

The walk to the Seventeen dorm from the Pledis building was short, nothing was really said between me and Chan other than him informing me that the other boys would all be at home as they don’t usually do much on their days off other than game or sleep due to their tiring schedule, which I fully understood being an idol fresh from debut, before he then gave me a quick run through of everyone’s names and how to recognise them so I would feel less intimidated by the 11 boys that I had not yet met.

“Ready?” Chan offered me a small smile as his hand rested on the door handle to their 5th floor apartment.

I only nodded in response, my hands instantly slipping in to my oversized sleeves to wrap themselves back in to sweater paws which offered me a sense of security, we could already hear loud music being played from the living room in the other end of the apartment but as soon as the front door opened a male that was a head and neck taller than me appeared from one of the rooms closest to the front door in only his tight-fitting black boxers, his hair a fluffy brown mess as he rubbed his eyes sleepily and looked over before realising that Chan wasn’t alone, his eyes widening nearly as much as mine in shock. My hands quickly flew up to my eyes to shield them from the stupidly attractive male towering in front of me and I bowed before squeaking out a rushed greeting.

“H-hello, I’m Weon K-Kia, nice to meet you!” I stayed bowed until the shuffling in front of me stopped, straightening up and peeking between my fingers I saw that the male had quickly threw on a baggy t shirt that he must of grabbed from one of the bags of clothes conveniently laying in the hall and was now stood with a bright red face and his hands crossed in front of his hips.

“I’m Kim Mingyu, I’m sorry about being underdressed, please forgive me.” He bowed in both greeting and apology, eventually straightening up and looking down at me, smiling gently with a blush dusting his cheeks before turning to Chan who was currently trying to control his laughter. “The others are in the living room if you hadn’t already heard, Soonyoung and Seungkwan are hyper and Seungchol has given up on trying to calm them down.”

He quickly slipped back in to the room that he had just come from before Dino led me in to the living room, a wide smile cracked my face as two boys who I assumed to be Hoshi and Seungkwan were dancing energetically to TWICE’s song Ooh Ahh, getting the choreography perfect, so I ran over and stood next to the boy with blonde hair, ensuring there was enough space for us to dance without hitting each other. All 3 of us sang and energetically danced along perfectly in time and tune with the song, the others all cheering, clapping and laughing as they watched us perform and when the song ended the brown-haired male squealed before picking me up in a bone-crushing hug and span me around.

“Oh my god, Weon Kia is in my dorm and she danced with me!” He screamed, still not letting me go as he placed me back on the ground. “I love your song, I know the choreography and all the words!”

His fanboy side shocked me a little but I pulled him back in for a tight hug, I rarely get the chance to meet fans or gain compliments but when I do I have to distract myself from tearing up; I may despise the song and my image however I still worked hard to debut and make my song a hit so it was amazing to know the late nights and crazy diets had worked.

“Thank you, we should dance to it together!” I excitedly suggested, him nodding frantically before running over to the phone that was plugged in to the speakers and selecting my song then standing in place, the blonde-haired boy from before also joined us as well as Chan and another brown-haired male with a wide smile.

I was in awe for the whole song, shocked at how well the 4 males knew the dance and enjoying how feminine they seemed while doing it, as the song ended we all collapsed with laughter. Finally, introductions were exchanged around the room and I learned that the blonde boy who I danced with was Soonyoung, the fanboy was Seungkwan and the wide-smiled guy was Seokmin, I was also finally introduced to Seungchol and Hansol (who had the most charming smile in my opinion), Jun who seemed to be extremely sweet, Jisoo who greeted me in English after I mentioned that is was the language I was most comfortable with (Hansol also switching to speak to me in English), and finally Wonwoo and Jeonghan who had emerged from the kitchen armed with a plate full of sandwiches. I was sat comfortably on the floor with crossed legs between Hansol and Jisoo, nibbling on a ham sandwich and sipping on my apple juice as I enjoyed the conversation of the entire group and laughing when a petty argument started up between Seungchol and Soonyoung about why the group couldn’t get a puppy and how Soonyoung should just be happy with Mingyu, everyone had been so engrossed in the argument that nobody noticed when a new male entered the room until he sat next to Jun and grabbed a plate, wide smiles were exchanged between everyone before his eyes finally settled on me and confusion took over his face, his deep brown eyes glancing at me over the top of his glasses.

“Hi, I’m Weon Kia, it’s nice to meet you!” I bowed as well as I could in my seated position with my sandwich still in my hands and waited for him to introduce himself.

“Xu Minghao, nice to meet you also.” He hesitantly introduced himself before turning towards Jun and speaking quickly in what I recognised to be Mandarin in a hushed tone. “Who is she?”

Annoyance coursed through my blood at the rude man as he carried out one of my biggest pet peeves.

“I’m a singer/rapper that has just debuted, Chan invited me over for lunch and to meet everyone because I’m working on a song with Jihoon and I’ve not been here for long. I would prefer it if you would address me when you have questions rather than trying to speak to another individual in a language you thought I didn’t know, it’s politer.” I shot back quickly in his native tongue with a slightly harsh voice, the chatter dying down as people turned to look between Minghao, Jun and myself as they realised that something was happening; the two Chinese members looking shocked.

“Is everything okay?” Seungchol asked as he noticed the tension that had formed.

“Yeah… did you know Kia can speak Mandarin?” Jun broke from his trance and laughed nervously, Minghao only shooting me a slight glare before digging in to his own sandwich and staring at the floor with squinted eyes as if it was suddenly the most interesting yet offensive thing in the world.

“Hey that’s not fair, now she can have secret conversations with China line!” Soonyoung whined with a pout dressing his face.

“…Did you just call us China line?” Jun looked slightly taken back and placed his sandwich on his lap, comically placing his hands on his hips and glaring jokingly.

I giggled loudly, realising where he must have found the ship name before lecturing him.

“You shouldn’t be on Tumblr, that’s like breaking yours fans trust!”

“…Mingyu, did you know that you and Wonwoo would make an extremely cute couple?”

#Seventeen imagine #seventeen #minghao #jun #woozi #dino #mingyu #wonwoo #seungkwan #hoshi #jeonghan #s coups #vernon #joshua #DK #imagine

[yoongiandchiminie]

P R E S S U R E { 8 }

;series;

{Part 1} {Part 7}

Pairing: Reader X Yoongi

Word Count: 6,181

Genre: Romance, Smut, Fluff

Warnings: Cursing, Smut

Summary: After dating for almost 3 years, the armys and Yoongi’s label have found out about your relationship. Now you have to deal with it in your extraordinarily normal life.

The vacation was a dream. That’s really all I could say about it. It flew by so quickly that I could barely even depict a memorable moment from the hundreds that probably happened. However, we ended up in the hotel for the second part of it as people had found out we were in Disney.

The fourth day there, we were mobbed by a bunch of people once they had spotted Yoongi’s mint green hair. We decided to cut ourselves off from social media for the time away and just to focus on the happier aspects of life with each other. The break was nice, but turning it back on to see warning messages made me highkey regret doing so.

Being cut off from reality for the second half really did wonders for us. We ended up talking a lot and uh- not talking. We swam a lot too. Having down time with just the two of us was a rarity, so I was kind of thankful we were pushed out of the park. We got our time in there and enjoyed it (Along with the cute as hell pictures we took). I was just- happy.

Instead of driving back up, Yoongi insisted we fly and he’d get some company or something to have my car there before we were even back in New York. I’d refused at first, but the amount of complaining he put in to not sit in a car for a straight day again was too immense to ignore. There was a point where he threatened to fly up alone and when I realized he was serious, I gave in.

We quickly ran through the airports once someone yelled, “Suga!” and it just freaked me out. Yes, it’d been called out before, but after a week away (Except for that terrible day) it felt strange. It was tough for me to accept that Yoongi was famous, as weird as that sounded. I handled it very well, but coming to the realization that so many people just wanted a smile from him was one I didn’t take too well.

The flight was boring enough as always when I ended up alone. He passed out within the first half hour once we were in the sky and suddenly I was lost in the silence about the future. I’d have to call that guy when I got back and take care of my future. I was finally at the point in my life where I was able to pursue happiness and this came along. It fit right into the picture but actually pushing myself off to get there was a leap my anxiety was holding me from.

It was once we were back home that everything truly set in. Once I was laying in my own bed alone that I realized what was happening. Yoongi had gone to shower and do whatever he needed to which left me just to my thoughts. It was late at night now and all I wanted to do was sleep, but I was just consumed inside the ifs and buts of whatever could happen. I hadn’t even texted my friends I was home when I decided to call the guy from Modest.

Within three rings he picked up and it was the most excited I’d every heard anyone from getting a phone call from me. He was so obnoxiously chipper and eager as we spoke. It almost reeked of desperation was he set up a meeting for us tomorrow. He said he’d had a conference room in his hotel on hold for the past week awaiting my call. After giving me the address I was quick to get off of the phone before he arranged my entire life for me.

Once the call was over, Yoongi came into the room completely drenched because he’d heard me on the phone and wanted to tell me how proud he was as soon as he could. I shot the Slow Burn group chat a text about what time I’d be picking them up tomorrow. It was followed by one of me regretting saying I’d drive and begging one of them to do it. Luke answered quickly and said he’d drive, answering my prayers in an instant.

“Do you wanna get takeout and stay in?” he had a coy smile towards me in this empty house, “Your mom is staying at a friends tonight, so we have free roam of this place.”

I couldn’t help but laugh as I stood up and wrapped my arms around his neck, placing a well deserved kiss upon him. “All alone?” I whispered, peppering kisses around his jawline. “Then we can be as loud as we want.”

“You wanna fuck already?” he was blunt, as always. “I mean- sure, but I’m kinda hungry, babe.”

I couldn’t help but to laugh at him. I let go of him and moved around his body, throwing a towel that was discarded in front of my door. He caught it and I pulled the door shut to leave him to put on clothes. For some reason the only thing on my mind was making grilled cheese, despite everything I had to think about.

Even as I cooked he was attached to my hip and it was quite endearing. As I stood in front of the stove, he rested his head on his shoulder and his hair tickled the bottom of my face. He arms wrapped around my waist, delicately landing on the swing of my hips. I couldn’t help but to giggle at it, but everytime I looked at him his eyes were closed as he hummed a little tune to himself.

The moment the grilled cheese was done and on a plate, he was running across the room to sit at the small table my mom and I had set up in the living room. Now he was playing a little rhythm on the table, his mouth watering as I made my way over. It was pretty funny how quickly he ate the entire things and I wondered just how long he’d been this hungry.

Yoongi grabbed my empty plate and his own. Being the kind gentleman he was, he cleaned them both before jogging back over to me with a blank look on his face. Once I stood up he ran his fingers through my hair and his face changed into a small smile. “Now?” I laughed a little before looking up to him and wiping a crumb from his chin.

“Now I’m kind of sleepy.” I smirked at him and pulled from his grasp. “I’m gonna nap.” I heard a short breath escape his mouth as I left the room but it wasn’t until I was about to shut the door that I heard him jogging in too.

“I’m always down for a nap.” he shut the door and grabbed my hand, falling back onto the bed with me on top of him. I wiggled off of him and instead next to him, facing away. He lifted himself up and placed a kiss on my temple before snuggling in behind me.

Sadly when I woke up it was due to the bright sun shining in my opened window. Normally before I sleep I put the blinds down due to the light that came through. I woke up completely confused and managed to knock Yoongi’s lose arm off of my side where it had been. He was sprawled across the best and I grabbed for my almost dead phone to check the time. It was about 8 am the next day.

The meeting was in 2 hours and I knew I had to get ready now. I didn’t intend to dress up for the event but my anxiety was slowly getting to me. The entire shower I took was filled with thoughts of what could go wrong if I don’t dress nicely instead of like a bum. I rushed out of the shower and ran into my room. I patted myself down and my throwing of the towel in Yoongi’s direction was the thing to finally wake him up. He shook as the moisture hit his face and sat up with a gasp, probably worried I dropped water on his face again.

He got up and stretched, walking past me towards the kitchen. I could hear everything he did in the silent house. I knew my mom was asleep still, she probably got home late, but Yoongi for a quiet guy was being so damn loud. He was opening the fridge and pouring water and then opening every cabinet to find the non existent food.

He came back in a few minutes later with a bowl of cereal and a tired look on his cute little face. “The meetings in an hour and a halfish right? Who’s picking you up? Puke?” I sighed at his comment and nodded yes. “Are you sure I can’t come? I’m good at these business meetings and stuff, babe. I don’t want you to get fucked over.”

“You know I’m not dumb, Yoongs. I’ve been pushing this deal off for so long so if the slightest thing is wrong, you know I won’t do it.” I jumped into my skinny jeans and tightened the cuffs on my shirt. I grabbed my makeup bag next and sat in front of the full body mirror on the floor to get to work.

“You better not blow this away because you’re nervous. Just think of everything you’ve written and poured your soul into. The world deserves to hear it all. I know you never even factored in the idea that this could be a career, but it’s going to be amazing. Slow Burn plays some nice music in various garages, so now it’s time for an upgrade.” Yoongi seemed very smug after his little speech. He always got like this when he knew he did something right and I knew it was the absolute cutest thing. It got a bit annoying when we were in arguments, but right now I appreciate it. Every time he’d show me how much he cared about me made me go crazy, in a good way. I was so in love with him that it made my heart skip a beat during times like these.

As I continued to get ready, he had disappeared from the room. I ended up settling on a black peasant top with lace sleeves and blue jeans so my entire appearance wasn’t as emo as I used to be. Everyone had those phases, okay?

Yoongi came back a few minutes later with breakfast and I was thoroughly confused at how he hadn’t set off the smoke alarm. The damn thing went off anytime there was something on the stove, but he didn’t seem to have the issues I did. Must’ve been magic. I thanked him and he just waved me off. Yoongi placed a kiss on my temple before getting back into my bed and snuggling up with a blanket that was laying in my spot.

With almost comedic timing, a honk woke him from his daze. I waved goodbye and I knew he was already probably back to sleep. After triple checking I had my keys (And looks good, of course) I ran out to Luke’s silver car waiting in the middle of the street.

I jumped into the backseat and pushed Julianna into the middle. Everyone else was already in the car since I lived the farthest away after moving and they all looked tired to say the least. If it wasn’t obvious, none of my friends were exactly morning people. Anthony was completely passed out in the passenger seat and drool was slowly dribbling down his chin. Before it could get any lower I grabbed one of the napkins I’d stored in the back and tucked it into his shirt so he wouldn’t appear messier than he already did.

Luke snickered at me and nodded a hello instead of speaking. Alicia was sitting with her headphones on and Julianna was drifting in and out of sleep as he drove. The music was on low, but I could hear the sounds of The Used in the car. It was one of Luke’s favorite bands and normally the band he listened to when he was nervous.

It hadn’t really occurred to me before that I wasn’t the only one affected with this. Of course I thought about all of them, but I’d been so focused on my nerves and anxiety that thinking about how scared they were was out of it. My friends were risking everything as much as I was and maybe it was time I came to terms with that.

The drive was only a few towns over so we basically had to take the parkway to get to it. Everyone slowly was waking up for the day and one by one I could see their anxieties rising about the situation. Everyone had their own little ways of dealing with it and they were enacting them right now. Julianna was over prepping her looks and such, Luke was lowly singing along to his music,  Alicia was just ramblings, and Anthony was attempting to order me around. Typical.

He was going on and on about how I needed to keep a level head during this meeting and not be a fuck up basically. I knew I’d be okay. As much as I bitched and bitched, I acted well under pressure.  Being the mom friend tends to give you that talent.

I envied Luke’s perfect parking as we got out of the car. I took a deep breath before walking towards the back of it and calling my friends together around me one last time before this meeting.

“We’re gonna be okay.” Was the only thing I could manage while trying to calm myself down without anyone else realizing I was freaking out. I nodded towards them and led the group into the hotel. Winston was standing in the lobby waiting for us and the man had the biggest smile I’d ever seen on when he spotted us.

“Oh hello!” he cheered, his accent accentuating his o’s. “I can’t believe you all showed up!”

“We said we would, right?” Anthony half questioned me and I just shrugged.

“After my run in with Y/N a bit ago, I wasn’t too sure!” I awkwardly smiled and extended my hand. He shook it hard and internally I sighed. “Alright, well let’s get going! My boss is inside the meeting room via skype waiting for us!”

The way he spoke just made me- cringe. I knew my friends felt it too, but they wouldn’t comment on it. Hopefully fucking Anthony would hold his tongue during this meeting and let me make the deals before he got us kicked out. That was normally what he was good at. Pissing people off.

Winston led us through the hotel and all I could focus on was my friends chatter behind me. They were all whispering around me about hoping I could handle this and such. Instead of flipping out on them, I took the smarter path and completely ignored them. Yep.

The room was vacant of people but set up with three computer screens. Two were lit up with two different men and the other wasn’t on. Maybe he was late or ditched it all together. The feeling in my stomach was telling me I should have done the latter, but I know blowing this chance would be the only thing I’d hear about for months to come.

“Welcome!” the man on the middle screen exclaimed as a Winston directed us each to our seats around the rounded table. “My name is Eddie Evans and I’m the president of the sector of Modest that would love to sign you.” A flutter went through my chest once he spoke the word ‘sign’. “There’s just a few things we have to go over.”

The other man on the screen to Eddie’s left had a nice smile on his face and even through the screen I could feel his friendly aura. “My name is Chris Luna and if you chose to sign, I’ll become your manager. We’ll work out the details of our meeting later on.”

Then we talked. They went over what was expected of us and what we wanted from them. They needed us all to quit our jobs and school as well. We needed to first sign a non disclosure agreement and then contracts that we could be willing to go to London for meetings and possibly to record. A studio would be set up in New York and London for us to practice, write, and record in.

It was all overwhelming, but I knew this would right. I knew this would make me happy.

As the meeting came to a close once all of the contracts were signed, we all got up to leave but Winston asked me to stay behind for a moment. Everyone made jokes as they made their ways out, but I knew something weird was up.

“Take a seat again.” he spoke, shutting the door behind. “I was made aware of your pre-existing contracts with Big Hit Entertainment due to your “relationship” with Min Yoongi.” The moment he put air quotes around the words relationship I wanted to snap. I wanted to freak out right then and there, but I knew I would ruin everything. I just had to take it. “We have a representative with us to just work out a few of those details.”

Then on the third screen that remained dark the entire time was him. Nam Hyungsik was on the screen and I was pissed I couldn’t avoid him for any longer. He was one of the higher ones at Big Hit in the relationships department and was always very wary of me. To put it into better terms, he hated my guts just for making Yoongi happy.

“Hello Ms. Y/L/N. How are you?” The sarcasm in his voice was so annoying. “We just want to make sure that this whole thing with you doesn’t change your contract with us. You still aren’t allowed to speak of the same things and try to avoid speaking of him as much as possible. If he’s asked about by an interviewer, say something nice and change the subject.”

He went on for about ten minutes about my rules and regulations. He basically kept repeating the same things over and over. I kept in my sighs and sour faces, simply nodding along. A part of me felt like crying for some reason and maybe it was just the sensitivity that I possessed. Him shoving this contract in my face felt like another invasion of privacy and it was just hurting for no good reason. I’d get over it. I always did.

The meeting ended with me resigning the contract and storming out of the room. My friends were lounging around all smiley in the lobby and I simply grabbed Luke’s keys from his hands and told them to come on. As much as I enjoyed driving in general, I liked it when I was angry.  My mind was removed from whatever was running through it and focused on the road in front of me.

They all paraded me with questions as they made plans for the dinner celebration that night. It was pretty obvious what it was about and when I told them the car was filled with a unanimous sigh.

“They’re such fucking assholes, I don’t get it.” I could see Alicia cross her arms in my rear view mirror and it made me laugh. “Don’t let this get to you, Y/N. We just got a fucking record deal and you’re caught up in this.”

“Yeah, shake it off bro.” Luke added, punching my shoulder. I pulled it in towards myself and made a sour face, to show the bit of pain he just provided me with. “Stop being so sensitive. Mentally and physically.” He was right, but I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of knowing so.

“You know what?” I reached over and turned down the radio, putting the car in park at the red light. I grabbed Luke’s phone quickly and went into his library, playing our song Tonight and turning it up. “We just signed a fucking record deal!”

Then we all sang along and the only word I could use to describe it was amazing. This what Yoongi would say “daebak” to. Hearing our instruments flood the speakers and us all scream the lyrics we’d repeated for what felt like forever. Now they could be sang by whoever decided to listen and the truth of that made me want to cry. Music was fucking beautiful.

We made plans to all meet up later for dinner at a Hibachi restaurant a few towns over to celebrate. It was gonna be a small thing for us and our closest friends and family as a celebratory thing. I was dropped off first as I lived the farthest and Luke slid into the driver's seat, his long limbs floating over the console. I watched Ant climb over the back. The laziness they all possessed was somewhat alarming and would probably get them hurt one day, but what could I truly do about it? Right.

The front door was unlocked and my mother's car was nowhere to be seen. I slowly opened the door and spoke, “Hello?” only to find Yoongi on my laptop on the couch with the TV on full blast. “What a thing to walk into.” I said in a small tone, fully aware he couldn’t hear me.

“Did ya’ do it?” he called out while muting the TV and stretched his limbs, using his hand to beckon me over. I nodded and a soft smile appeared on his face. He used his other hand that wasn’t extended to pull out a small confetti cannon that I knew I’d be annoyed to clean up late at night after we both forgot about it.

After realized I wasn’t going to walk over to him, he jumped to his feet and ran at me. The moment he jumped onto me for a hug was the moment I thought I was really going to die. It wasn’t as if he was heavy, I was just so weak and we both knew it. It didn’t stop him from pushing me into the wall and keeping me in a tight lock for a good minute.

“I’m so proud of you.” he whispered into my hair, kissing the top of my head.  “Ah, my girl did it!” With that he couldn’t contain his excitement and lifted me up, spinning me in a circle. Sadly we were right against the wall and his lack of thinking made me knock over a plant, but he didn’t seem to notice.

He put me on the ground and it always amazed me how he was never out of breath after all that movement. If it was me, I’d probably be dead. I knew I’d have to tell him about Big Hit reaching out for me because he’d eventually be informed of it and it’d start an argument I could avoid. He just- he looked so happy right now and I knew I was about to ruin it.

“There is uh- Something else I need to tell you.” I began to stutter as I got nervous and he easily picked up on it. He furrowed his eyebrows in my direction and made his way back to the couch, sensing this could be important. He turned off the TV as I took a seat as far as I could from him while being on the same couch and swiveled my body forwards instead of towards him. “After the meeting was over I was held back for a moment due to my contract with Big Hit. They kept me for a bit to re discuss and affirm my contract.”

As I spoke I watched his face get progressively more annoyed and it ended with it in his hands. “You- You still there?” I whispered and after another three minutes of silence, he let out a long sigh before jolting onto his feet. He started pacing around the small living room and he pulled out his phone, rapidly typing away. “Yoongi?” I called again.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I’m just pissed off. That’s all.” he waved me off and went back to aggressively typing away on his phone. I kicked off my shoes and tucked my knees into my chest, sighing along with my new enclosure. I began to rock myself back and forth and take deep breaths to try to cut out the angry noises he was producing in this moment.

If I watched him I knew I’d probably get upset about the situation. It wasn’t too big of a deal, but it was definitely enough to get us both riled up. I could just hear him in the back of my pushed thoughts. He was on the phone now and yelling in Korean so I had no clue what he could possibly be saying. I just knew it was angry. “Hey.” I spoke as he hung up the phone and began dialing a new number. “Please calm down. I- I didn’t mean to make you mad.”

I could feel his eyes glance at me a few times during his next angry phone call, but I continued retreating into myself. I mumbled out a few more apologies and tried to still my breathing. It wasn’t like I was hyperventilating, but I could feel my chest building up to do so. I was crying by this point but it was so muffled I wouldn’t have noticed if I didn’t feel the sensation hitting my knees.

I wasn’t sure how much time was passing. I could just hear Yoongi yelling things I couldn’t understand. I was really only snapped back to reality when I felt his arms reach around me and untangle my limbs from being so close together. He maneuvered me around so that I was in his arms now. My face was in his chest and my arms dangled below my face.

“Ulji mala.” he kept repeating above me, which I could only recognize as “Don’t cry” in Korean. He spoke under his breath as he repeated it and rubbed my back. “Oh, baby, calm down.” he finally spoke in English. “I just overreacted, don’t-” he sighed and gave up on speaking to me.

In the moment I wasn’t too sure as to why I was freaking out the way I did. My emotions had been running so rampant lately and it was starting to piss me off. I never used to let my anxiety control me the way it had been and it seemed when everything was going right, something was still wrong. “Don’t get upset because I was yelling, I know I probably scared you or something.” I looked up at him and it seemed his anger had died down, turning into a pout now. “Smile or somethin’.” he whispered in my direction.

“Is it all okay?” I pondered out loud, making eye contact with him. His facial expression got a bit darker and I was fully aware he was ready to lie to me to make me feel better.

“They won’t let your contract go and I’m afraid that it’ll fuck things up for you now.” He was being blunt in this moment and I thoroughly appreciated it. There was no way I needed sugar coating in this moment.

“So-” I cleared my throat, fearing the words that were going to come out next. We both knew it was coming, but I knew he’d never address it. “Do you want to break up?”

Yoongi was taken back for a moment and squinted his eyes at me. He didn’t create any distance between our bodies and instead kept us close. “Do I what?” he questioned, probably hoping I wasn’t asking what he knew I was. “Is that a fucking joke?”

“I’m just in the way with contracts and-”

“What the fuck do contracts have on us? They have nothing on us.” he scoffed and now broke all physical contact with me to stand up and pace my living room.  “You think that’ll fix all our problems? We couldn’t even do another secret relationship, especially now that you’re making music. We’re already fucking trapped, Y/N, you can’t let them get in your pretty little head. Giving in won’t solve our problems.”

“But it-”

“No but. Don’t even try to break up with me again.” He was rude with the way he cut me off and responded, but I knew that I’d truly pissed him off. I’d brought this up in the past before and he’d absolutely lost it. He was mad at me for hours for thinking it and each time I said it, I promised I’d never do it again. Except, then I’d do it again and he’d blow another fuse.

I knew he wasn’t being possesive or anything of that sort with how quickly he shut it down. He just knew I was suggesting it because I was afraid and for all of the wrong reasons. I knew if the situation ever arose where we didn’t want to be together came up, he’d let me go. Probably not without a fight, but he would want what’s best for me.

“I won’t…” I mumbled to him, standing up and grabbing his wrist. He stopped his pacing and turned towards me, his eyes focusing on my own.

“You know-” he grunted, for some reason getting caught up in his own feelings. “I love you so much. Right, Y/N?” I nodded and let go of him. In an instant he pulled me tight into his chest, running his hands through my hair. “Don’t- Don’t break my heart when it doesn’t need to be done.”

On the brighter side of the spectrum, it would probably always be him that was best for me. The amount of love and joy Yoongi fed into my life was insane. The amount that I loved him overwhelmed me every day and the real kicker was that he loved me back. I was just- lost sometimes, but thankfully so was he. For two people that really had their lives together, we were both a fucking mess.

I looked up to him and placed my hands around his neck, tiptoeing so our faces were level. “I never will.” I promised, kissing his lips softly. It was a simply kiss, lingering a little bit. His eyes met mine as soon as they were open and before I could land on the flats of my feet again, he pulled me in for another kiss.

It lingered again and he began to walk towards me, causing me to back up with his movements. He didn’t continue just one kiss and instead Yoongi kept pulling away, but coming back in for another one almost instantly after. The next one he stopped and pulled on my lip for a minute before pulling away. I opened my eyes and looked into his and they’d become hooded and darker.

“We should celebrate, yeah?” his voice was huskier as he backed me into my bedroom. My face was hot and so was- fuck. Fuck. Yoongi was also so fucking hot and fuck. “Right, baby girl? Celebrate? I know you can use your words. Come on~.” he teased me for having no response and kissed a line from my lips to my ear, “Speak to me.”

“Right, daddy.” I whispered to him as he continued to trail kisses down to my neck. He settled on a spot and slowly lowered me back, the level of my bed making it difficult to simply drop me onto it. He was being gentle even though I knew every bone in his body was fighting him on it.

“You’re just so- fuck.” Yoongi took the words straight out of my thoughts as he reached down and pulled my shirt over my head. I repeated the motion with him as he quickly undid my jeans before yanking those off as well. He let me go down on the bed and stood off, stepping out of his own sweatpants. He lowered himself again and hovered above me, his eyes scanning every inch of my being in the moment. He took a long inhale and completed it with the same exhale. “Fuck.” he repeated and leaned down to kiss me again.

This one was more passionate than the last, not breaking for even a moment. Our lips moved in sync as if they were performing like we’d both be soon in the future. Our tongues danced together, both fighting for dominance before his finally won. He moved from my lips down my chest, landing at my clothed breasts. He kissed around the lacey black material before snaking his hands around my back and undoing it. He slid the straps down my arms before removing it all together.

“So beautiful.” he whispered as his hand cupped around my breasts. He kissed down my stomach and stopped above the matching black panties I had on. His darkened eyes met with my half lidded ones and he just chuckled to himself. “You want it, baby?” I nodded and he wasn’t having any of that. “Just use your words and I can give you the world. You’re such a mess and I’ve barely touched you.”

“Y-Yes.” I stuttered, overwhelmed from the confidence that always wreaked from him during sex. He simply smirked and bit the top pulling my panties all the way around my ankles. He yanked them off completely and tossed them behind him, landing somewhere in the closet.

“I’m gonna make you feel so good, baby.” he muttered to me, as his hands grabbed my hips and pulled me closer to him. Before I could ask him to, his tongue met my entrance and began to explore each and every crevice of my being. Every movement was so precise as I got closer and closer to my breaking point.

“Yoongi- fuck-” I moaned. I could feel his lips regain his smirk as he became quicker with his actions. He brought his digits towards my entrance, two of them easily slipping inside. He curled them, easily making my body twist in pleasure. My eyes faded shut but I could feel his gaze on me. All at once he stopped and I knew he wanted my eyes to meet his. I succeeded to his will and he began to move his fingers again, even adding a third.

He could feel my getting close and pulled his fingers out, licking a line up my slit. “Fuck, you taste so good, Y/N.” he breathed hot air onto me and he licked his lips, chuckling again after. He sucked on his fingers for a moment, making sure to keep eye contact with me while doing so. He stood up from the bed for a moment and stretched, taking off his boxers right after.

“Are you ready?” he asked me, full well knowing the answer. I nodded, letting out a huff of air and he hovered me again, lining his cock with my entrance. He pushed into me all at once, causing a chill to be sent through my body. He paused for a moment, watching my face for my reaction. “You’re so cute…”

“Stop-” I began to say before I was interrupted by him moving. He moved at a fast pace, but seemed to be enjoying every moment of it. My mind felt like it was moving as fast as he was and I couldn’t help but to realize how lucky I was. Before I could even dwell on it for another second, I felt myself close and began to clench. The way he bit his lip made me knew he wanted to tease me, but the nod he gave me let me know it was okay.

He slowed down as I came, completely stopping at one point to catch his breath along with me. He leaned up and kissed my forehead before starting to fuck me again. This time it was more sensual as he fucked me until he hit his high. Without any words he came inside of me, his rested body pressed against mine but his flat palms keeping his weight from collapsing onto me.

He pulled out and I felt his cum dribble out of me, neither of us bothering to fix the mess it was about to cause. He rolled over me and onto my left side, pulling my body into his before pulling a sheet on top of us. “I love you.” he whispered against my hair, kissing at it after he spoke.

“I love you too.” I quickly responded, closing my eyes.

As complicated as our lives were, everything just seemed so simple when it came to Min Yoongi.

Author’s Note: Ah, thanks for reading! I hope you enjoyed! I missed updating this haha

Next part  →

#yeah its been a while lmao #bts #bts fanfic #pressure #min yoongi #yoongi #suga #yoongi smut #suga smut #min yoongi fanfic #yoongi fanfic #suga fanfic #suga x reader #yoongi x reader #min yoongi x reader #bts smut #smut

[sindearlyconnormurphy]

Both of Us [Connor Murphy x Reader]

Title: Both of Us Pairing: Connor Murphy x Reader Fandom: Dear Evan Hansen Requested: Yes! Summary: Reader and Connor use each other to get back at their parents. Hijinks ensue. Warnings: Connor’s potty mouth | Mentions of sex and alcohol | brief nudity | First person reader | not proof read | written in literally an hour | very short | recovering!Connor A/N: decided to do a short request in the middle of writing a long one! Hope you guys like this!

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” I gasped for the tenth time, watching Connor with wide eyes as he pulled more items out of the drug store plastic bag. Glaring at me with harsh slate eyes, Connor removed the last of the items, setting them up in a neat row across his quilted bedspread.

“You wanna get back at your parents or not?” He asked, leaning forward with his hands on his knees. I trusted Connor, but something about sitting cross legged on his bed with a pile of unmentionables between us made me sicker than it should’ve.

“I mean–we’re gonna be in a lot of trouble,” I grumbled. He grinned.

“Then maybe they’ll start paying you some decent attention, yeah? The both of us.”

“Connor–”

“Everyone freaks out the second there’s any chance of their daughter getting pregnant. My dad is gonna blow his top,” he sighed, grinning wickedly at the thought. Rolling my eyes, I reached out tentatively to run my finger across the box between us.

“Why condoms then?”

He shrugged. “Makes them think we’re having sex–and maybe then we can avoid the talk. And hey, I might actually need these at some point, Miss Skeptic,” he growled, sticking his tongue out, making me giggle.

“Okay, so, plan?” I asked, looking warily between him and the lineup of illegal things going on between us.

His lithe fingers reached between us, nimbly selecting a hazy brown bottle and offering it to  me.

“You’re gonna want a swig of this,” he said, popping the cap on what appeared to be beer, taking a quick sip–giving me a disgusted expression, but swallowed regardless–and handed it back to me.

“Can’t we just dump it in a plant?” I grumbled softly, eyeing the liquid inside. It was warm in my palm, already making me queasy.

“Don’t be a pussy,” he chuckled, reaching out to slap my knee, sending me jumping and the amber liquid slushed out across the back of my hand.

“Careful!” He giggled again, reaching out to grab my wrist with one hand, his cold rings stinging my flushed skin, his other hand reaching with the cuff of his hoodie to mop up the spill. Gazing with fond eyes, he gifted me a crooked smile. “Someone’s jumpy.”

“I’m nervous,” I mumbled. His smile doubled, revealing his white, crooked canine teeth, making him look simultaneously softer but confident. He hadn’t yet released my wrist, the sleeve of his hoodie still stroking across the back of my hand.

“We aren’t actually gonna do it,” he whispered, like it was a secret. Snorting, I yanked my hand away, doing my best to keep the blush from my cheeks.

“Don’t flatter yourself–I meant I’m nervous about getting trouble,” it was a half truth, but I doubt he’d call me out on it.

He shoved the bottle further against my chest, nodding toward it. “Just drink it.”

Two beers later, things were starting to get fuzzy. I’d never drank before, and I’d only meant to drink enough to make it look like we’d been drinking, but then Connor….

Connor was pacing the floor, shaking his hands nervously. He’d long since shed his hoodie, stalking the floor now in a grey tank top with his skinny jeans riding dangerous low on his hips–he was holding his liquor well, but it didn’t stop him from anxiously checking the window every few minutes.

“They’re gonna be here any minute,” he cursed under his breath, scratching at the back of his head, causing the brunette curls to fluff out violently. “What’s the plan?”

I shrugged, honestly half hoping he’d just let them catch us drinking. “You’re seriously gonna try to make it look like we’re having sex as they pull in the driveway? What’s the count of that–sixty seconds? They aren’t gonna buy it, Con.”

“You’re pessimistic when you’re drunk.”

“I’m not drunk.”

“Just pessimistic?”

“Realistic,” I argued, pulling my shirt over my head, watching Connor splutter hopelessly, eyes wide and face red as he fell against his closet door.

“What the fuck, dude!”

“People don’t have sex with their clothes on, Connor,” I reminded, laying against the blue quilt, letting my arms fall above my head. More than anything I was tired, too warm, kind of ready for another drink.

“Dude,” Connor breathed from out of my line of sight. “You’re shirtless on my bed. Holy shit. Jared is gonna lose his shit oh my God–”

“Shut up,” I growled, reaching down gingerly to make sure my bra was still in place. “And lose your’s too if you wanna make your parents actually buy this.”

“Holy shit,” Connor whispered again, his voice accompanied by the loud ruffle of clothing being thrown idly across the room.

The bed squawked beneath me, shaking slightly as Connor joined me, suddenly hovering over me on his elbows, his dark hair forming a curtain around my face, eclipsing my view of the room.

Connor was smiling brightly, his cheeks a hazy pink under his constellation of silver freckles, and his eyes squinting with the effort from the grin.

“This good?” He asked softly, adjusting so that his bony knees, still clad in his faded black skinny jeans, were boxing in my hips. I giggled, nodding slightly, feeling warmer than before.

“Better,” I agreed, despite the warning flares going off in the back of my mind. Connor was a friend, Connor was cute, I argued with myself. There was no harm in a little flirting.

“I think,” he said lowly, leaning down with heavy eyes so that his chapped lips brushed against my cheek, his curls teasing against my temple, “You’re trying to seduce me.”

I snorted, rolling my eyes. I reached up to grab his bare forearms playfully, giving them a squeeze and feeling Connor’s bare stomach twitch above my own. “Yeah? Is it working?”

I felt him smile before I saw it. “You tell me.”

Everything short circuited as Connor surged forward, sealing his lips to mine so forcefully I felt my skull slam against the mattress, his cheeks caving slightly as he moved against me, his hands coming up to cup my neck, thumbs tracing soft patterns across my cheek bones.

Kiss him back, stupid, I grunted to myself, feeling Connor’s kiss subside into something softer, slower, and my wide eyed glare revealed his focused, furrowed expression as he concentrated perhaps too hard on this kiss itself, his lips sealing lightly before pulling away too quick and returning just as fast.

“That believable enough?” He whispered softly, moving his head so that he could press a feather kiss along my jaw, allowing me to gasp for air behind his long trail of hair.

“Yeah,” I sighed, unable to stop an embarrassing giggle from bubbling out, earning an elbow to my side.

“Be nice, I’m trying here,” he grumbled, suddenly ceasing his motions and going limp above me, pressing his warm face into the crook of my neck.

“Oscar given,” I promised, a half guilty and half endeared at his embarrassment, reaching up to tangle my hands in his hair, smoothing it lightly. “You wanna take a break, try that again when your parents pull in?” I mumbled against his hair, pressing a kiss there, suddenly aware of the fact Connor’s warmth was laying between my legs, like a too-warm blanket, almost uncomfortable but worth it.

“Yeah,” he agreed drowsy, pressing a feather against my clavicle, before wrapping his arms around my waist and burrowing tighter into my neck. I sighed, relieved that we’d have a moment for my heart to settle down.

“Hey,” Connor whispered softly, nudging the inside of my thigh with his knee.

“Yeah?” I sighed, turning so that I could hear him a bit better from where his words were muffled against my neck.

“Thanks again for agreeing to do this,” he mumbled, shifting. “I know we aren’t super close or anything–”

“I like hanging out with you, Connor,” I reminded, letting my hand drop to trail a pattern against his spine, feeling him sigh in comfort against me. “We are friends, you know.”

“Still,” he said. “I appreciate you sticking your neck out for me.”

“Anytime,” I said truthfully, feeling another feather kiss against my clavicle. “Now stay vigilant, yeah? We don’t wanna miss your parents.”

—-

“This isn’t right–we should call that girl’s parents!”

“Sshhh!” Cynthia urged again, dragging another quilt over the kids in the bed, unable to stop another smile from coming to her lips. Connor and the girl were tangled together, snoring lightly, Connor’s face pressed lightly against her chest and the girls hands resting lightly across his bare back. “Let them sleep, Larry.”

“The last thing Connor needs is to be a teen father!”

Cynthia pointed to the box on the bedside table. “I don’t think we need to worry about that. Their pants are on, dear.”

Larry rolled his eyes. “And you’re okay with the beer?”

“We’ll have a talk about that,” Cynthia promised, but turned back to glance at the couple. “Look at his face, Larry, when he’s sleeping. He looks so calm. He almost looks happy.”

Larry was silent, leaning against the door and watching the two of them. “I suppose it’s good to know he’s got a friend.”

“More than a friend,” Cynthia grinned, shutting off the light and sliding the door closed. “I wonder what she likes on her pancakes.”

#connor murphy #connor murphy x reader #connor murphy imagine #deh imagine #mike faist #deh #dear evan hansen #ben platt #michael lee brown

[partlycharlie-archive]

give me toothaches just from kissin’ me

summary: “Hey- sorry to bother you, but is it okay if I sit here?” Dan didn’t bother looking up from the chemistry textbook splayed in front of them, choosing instead to grab a piece of paper on the table and study it intensely. “Not interested,” they muttered with a quirk of their lips and a short head shake. A pause, and then - “Oh. I mean? I-I didn’t think you were? But, uh, I’ll just. Find another place to sit, I guess. That’s-that’s fine.” (alternately: assumptions are dumb and love is dumber) word count: 3,503 warnings: misunderstandings, mentions of misgendering, fluff, awkward nerds!!!

this is for snowbunnylester - happy birthday! love you lots. (this is officially the longest fic i've ever written look at me being a nerd) read on ao3

-

Dan Howell walked down the unusually empty street with hunched shoulders, eyes slipping over the TD Bank on the corner (wow, they really never close, do they?) and the McDonalds across the street in favor of the glowing - maybe not actually glowing, but it sure felt like it - green Starbucks sign a block and a half ahead of them. They glanced into the nearest shop window and saw their image reflected back at them: a sopping wet flower crown balanced on wildly curly hair, an oversized white varsity jacket with sleeves that reached to their fingertips, and a pair of dark red Doc Martens that squelched with every step they took.

Looking down, Dan couldn’t help but notice the color discrepancy- the left leg of their ripped skinny jeans was almost definitely a darker shade of black than their right (if that's even possible), but they supposed it was just the result of their bulging messenger bag protecting their right leg from the downpour. Which - okay, yes, the weather in New York can be a bit ridiculous at times, but. It was July. Was this really necessary? They had gotten a fucking flash flood warning not five minutes ago, and it felt like something out of the movies.

Dan reached the doorway of Starbucks and started to pull the door open, sighing lightly under their breath when the door didn’t budge. They started to push at the door instead (what the hell is this made out of, anyway?), allowing themself a tiny grin when the door swung open and they were greeted with a blast of hot air. Dan’s eyes scanned the store, noting the empty table sticking out from the wall (odd, considering the weather, but whatever) and rushing to put their bag on one of the chairs.

They grabbed their phone and wallet from their bag (they made sure to double check their wallet for their debit card; they’d lost count of how many times they’d gone to pull out their debit card, only to realize they’d put it in their bag at some point) and walked over to the line winding behind the register. Dan shoved their wallet into their pocket, grabbing their headphones as well and pulling up their Spotify. Head bobbing to the music, Dan only just noticed when they reached the counter and smiled awkwardly at the cashier as they stepped up to the register.

Black and green hair tucked tightly into cornrows, showcasing a warmly tanned face; a flat nose, a full mouth. The standard Starbucks uniform - black shirt, apron (colored a shade of green that was probably copyrighted) tied above wide hips. Black skinny jeans, cuffs shoved into blue and grey sneakers. “Hey there,” ‘Katrina’ said. The cashier flashed a smile that almost seemed genuine. “How are you today?”

“I’m doing fine,” Dan replied with a smile on their face, slinging their Apple headphones around their neck. “How about you?”

“I’m doin’ fine, thanks. What can I get you?” Dan started.

“Oh! Yeah, sorry, I’ll have a- uhm. Grande caramel macchiato, with one of those cheese danishes, please?” Katrina nodded politely. Short nails tapped at the screen in between them, and a hand reached out to Dan, waggling elegant fingers in their direction.

“That’ll be $7.50. Cash or credit?”

“Yeah- credit, thanks.” Dan dug their wallet out of the huge pockets in their jacket (holy shit, god bless men’s clothes, seriously) and pulled out their debit card, inserting it into the card reader and pulling it back out.

“Alrighty. Name?”

“Dan.”

“Alright, Dan. They'll be calling your name in a minute.”  Dan nodded their assent.

They grinned at the cashier as they walked away (and so what if it still gives them a little thrill every time someone calls them by the right name?), and put their headphones back into their ears. The brunette belatedly realized that music had been playing the whole time (with the last bars of getting it on by SALES ringing in their ears), but mentally shrugged- they had a portable charger in their bag, and there was (conveniently enough) an outlet right next to their table.

Dan sat heavily in the chair with their bag on it, huffing as they did so (they’re twenty-one and already turning into an old man, jesus christ) but taking in the room with a lingering smile on their face.

They could still remember the first time that had happened- where someone had just gone along with their name and pronouns. It was when they were in high school - they’d been in the GSA club before they’d even realized they weren’t cis, but come their sophomore year they’d asked everyone in the club to use different pronouns, and they all just... Agreed? Dan had to admit, it was a weird sensation; even at that point, they had already been used to people trying to find ways around using the right name or pronouns (or even just flat-out denying them the ‘privilege’). To get that sort of thing now- where people would look at him and just think Oh yeah, that’s Dan? It felt absolutely incredible.

“Caramel macchiato and cheese danish for Dan!” someone announced. Dan hopped out of their chair again and grabbed the food, smiling their thank you to the worker behind the counter. They headed back to their table and set the drink and food on the countertop, pulling a laptop and their journal out of their bag.

One of Dan’s favorite things to do when they had work and it was rainy was finding the nearest coffee shop and letting the noise around them lull them into a rhythm - they had found that it was the best recipe for success, especially when it came to their work. Today they were hugely grateful for it, especially because they had a chemistry essay to finish, and they were only halfway through with it. Dan knew somewhere in the back of their mind that it was due in roughly half a week, but he really couldn’t afford to miss any more assignments.

Time passed, songs played, more caramel macchiatos were ordered, and -

“Hey- sorry to bother you, but is it okay if I sit here?”

Dan didn’t bother looking up from the textbook they had eventually placed in their lap, choosing instead to grab a worksheet from their bag and study it intensely. “Not interested, thanks,” they snapped lowly with a sarcastic quirk of their lips and a short head shake. No matter how many people accepted them, this sort of thing happened enough - hetero/cis/whatevernormative people assuming something about them based on the way they looked, or acted, or (god forbid) dressed, for God’s sake - that they knew how to go through the motions of shutting somebody down without showing how much it hurt. Maybe it was presumptuous of them, to assume that was what the stranger was doing, but was it a crime to feel safe rather than sorry?

A pause, and then - “Oh. I mean? I-I didn’t think you were? But, uh, I’ll just. Find another place to sit, I guess. That’s-that’s fine.” Dan’s head snapped up, simultaneously yanking out their headphones and taking in the clearly nervous form of the person standing in front of them.

Dan’s first thought was Holy shit, this guy is tall. Compared to Dan’s measly 5’6”, this guy seemed like a tower, and Dan estimated no less than 6 feet, at least. Cropped black hair, fashioned in a style similar to what theirs had been like before they decided to go curly. Bright blue - no, green - no, yellow - eyes, framed by a pair of thick and square glasses that Dan would assume were fake (all for the aesthetic - they’d do it too, if they lost any more dignity) if not for the thick and obviously prescription lenses inside of them. A black tank top with the words “MY TASTE IN MUSIC IS YOUR FACE” written in red and white; the word “FACE” is crossed out with white ink. Dark red jeans with the cuffs rolled up, black Converses with rainbow laces, a dark red cardigan that seemed to swallow them whole (in a good way?). A tall black umbrella - Dan could see a hint of sky blue on the inside. A hipster. Why is it that the only times they’ve ever been preemptively rude to people, they ended up not deserving it?

“Shit. Sorry! I just- I dunno, I get a lot of? Whatever, people are weird, but! Yeah, of course, you can sit here, no problem!” Dan scanned the table in front of them, belatedly realizing that they had taken up nearly the entire space with almost-empty coffee cups and chemistry notes that they used once and never looked at again. They blushed fiercely, avoiding the look of wry amusement that was sure to be on the stranger’s face, and busied themself with swiping their papers into their bag and carrying the cups to the trash.“Sorry about that,” they apologized, smiling sheepishly.

“No worries!” Hipster smiled gratefully, eyes crinkling at the corners, and plopped a galaxy-styled bag onto the floor, dashing away to (presumably) grab something to drink. The stranger came back with a disposable cup and a brownie (shit, Dan kind of wanted a brownie now) and plopped down into the chair opposite Dan. They reached into the galaxy-styled bag lying on the floor next to them and pulled out a plain black sketchbook and a blue pencil bag with the words “get carried away” printed in gold, scripted ink, immediately opening the book to a page full of some sort of half-finished abstract piece.

Silence ensued; after a couple of minutes of observing both the stranger across the table from them and the rest of the coffee shop, Dan let themself shift their focus back to the conclusion of the godforsaken essay they were still working on. They put their headphones back in, smiling softly at the sound of Nina Simone, and got to work.

 “... which, therefore, enforces the conclusion that radioactive elements can be used for a multitude of purposes over the course of their lifetimes." Dan sighed in relief as they typed the last word, and barely noticed the series of short knocks that sounded against the wooden tabletop.

They glanced up to see the stranger with a fist poised above the table and an awkward smile. Dan smiled back and paused Drummer Boy (by MisterWives - the band had opened at the last concert Dan went to, and they were hooked), pulling out their headphones and snapping closed their laptop with a cocked head. “What’s up?”

“Sorry to bother you,” they mumbled, rubbing their neck, “but, uhm- I realized I. Don’t have your pronouns? Sorry if that sounds really weird, but I’d rather not fuck it up, y’know?”

Dan’s previously hesitant smile widened into a grin - they weren’t trying to be pretentious, but they knew better than most how difficult it was to find someone who just asked for pronouns instead of assuming. In Dan’s experience, the only people who’d ever asked them about stuff like that had been people that already knew what it was like to be misgendered - or were close to someone who did.

“Oh! Yeah - it’s they/them, thanks. My name’s Dan, by the way. What’s yours?”

Hipster started to speak but seemed to reconsider their words. “Name or pronouns?” they asked, letting out a small chuckle.

Fuck. Dan drew in a sudden breath and felt their face contort into a full-fledged cringe, eliciting a larger bout of laughter from the stranger. “Sorry! Sorry - fuck, my mind is frazzled, oh my God. Both, if you don’t mind?”

“Yeah, of course! Don’t worry about it, it’s fine.” The stranger’s lingering laughter faded into an easy grin, and its infectious nature eased Dan into a responding smile without realizing. “Phil, and he/him. It’s lovely to meet you!”

Phil reached a pale hand over the table and Dan grasped it firmly, admiring the stark contrast in their hands - Phil’s hand was so large that it seemed to overwhelm theirs, much like the jacket sleeves they had pushed up to their elbows.

“So. What are you working on? It almost looked like you were ready to stab the damn keyboard with the amount of force you were putting into your typing.” Dan flushed, brushing a hand through their still-damp hair and rubbing it against the back of their neck.

“Ha - you probably don’t want to hear about it. I mean, I’m fairly good at chemistry, but even I know-”

“Chemistry?” Phil’s face lit up almost immediately, and Dan felt their cheeks heating up again. Looking at Phil’s smile felt like gazing into the sun, and they thought absentmindedly that if they stared for too long, they might be blinded.

They couldn’t say they’d mind.

“My favorite science is definitely plant biology - because holy shit I love plants so much - but chemistry is super cool too! I loved the titration unit - y’know, when you had to mix the solutions and the identifiers or whatever? It was so cool! The colors were all swirly; I felt like I was in the movies.” Dan grinned.

“Oh man, I know exactly what you mean. We finished that unit a while ago, so this paper is on radioactive elements- y’know, like carbon-14 and stuff? Yeah, we had to look into possible alternative…”

 “Hey- really sorry to bother you guys, but we’re actually closing up now? So…” Dan jumped, having been cut off in the middle of explaining of why they stopped straightening their hair by the awkwardly shifting employee. Phil glanced around the cafe, clearly just as surprised by the lack of customers as Dan was. The sky outside was pitch black - shit, what time was it?

“It's nine-fifty,” 'Theo' murmured in response to Dan's unspoken question.

“Holy shit Phil we’ve spent two actual hours just talking what the hell I’m so sorry for bothering you? Do you have anywhere you need to be? Shit I totally kept you oh man-”

“Dan. Don’t worry, okay? I don't really have anything I have to do - I'm definitely not missing out on anything, I promise.” Dan sighed gratefully and rubbed a hand down their face - who knows what they would've done if Phil had ended up missing out on something important.

They steadied their hands on the empty table - Phil and they must've both put their stuff away at some point - and pushed themself away from their chair, bouncing on the balls of their feet once they stood up. Phil stood up as well, super-cool bookbag in hand, and they walked out together after a sheepish “have a good night!”

They stood on the corner of 86th and 3rd, and Dan couldn't help but notice the way the light shined across Phil's face. Traffic was at a standstill and the neon red from the traffic light cast a glow on the man's face, as if Dan was looking at him through rose-tinted glasses.

It felt absurdly romantic, considering they'd only known each other for a couple of hours.

“Which way are you going?” Phil asked, gesturing vaguely.

“I'm headed towards the Q -” they pointed east, “- ever since they finished the line, I've basically been using it every chance I get.”

Phil grinned in response. “I feel you. I wish it connected with the 6, but we'll probably have to wait another century for that. I'm heading to Lex.” Dan pouted a little - maybe it had been a bit far-fetched, but somewhere in the back of their mind they'd been hoping that Phil would be able to take the train with them.

“Alright, well - guess I'll. See you around?” Phil's face flashed with something that looked vaguely like disappointment, but he nodded slowly.

“Yeah, definitely. It was great to meet you!” Phil stuck out a hand, and Dan used it to pull him into a hug, shoving their face into his chest. Phil flailed for a few (long) seconds before wrapping lanky arms around Dan's shoulders.

“It was fun talking to you,” Dan mumbled into his cardigan, smiling gently into the comfortable fabric.

“You too.”

Dan eventually pulled themself away, hopping subtly onto their tiptoes to brush imaginary dust off of Phil's shoulders.

“See you around,” they said, flashing a short wave. They pivoted on their heel, crossing the avenue (and thanking the god of social awkwardness that it was their light to walk) with hands in their pockets, wrapping fingers around the tangled headphones they'd shoved in earlier. They pulled out their headphones and untangled them, putting one into their ear when-

“Wait, Dan!”

They jumped, letting out a small squeal that echoed in their brain. Dan turned around slowly to face Phil, who stood five feet away from them with a hand outstretched as if he thought Dan would run away when their name was called.

Not too far-fetched, really; they definitely would've bolted if they hadn't recognized the voice calling out to them.

“Um. Hi?” Dan managed to blurt out before breaking into giggles. Phil soon followed, clapping a hand over his mouth to hide the hint of tongue slipping out between grinning teeth (holy fuck that's adorable).

Phil's laughter faded out, replaced with a bashful smile and a hand rubbing at the nape of his neck. “I, uh. Well- I realized you never finished telling me about your hair?” Dan raised an incredulous eyebrow, holding giddy laughter behind a bitten-down smile.

“Oh, really? I didn't know my story was that captivating.”

Phil scoffed lightly. “Everything about you is captivating, but that's besides the point.” His eyebrows lifted in surprise. He looked about as startled as Dan felt, and Dan felt their cheeks flush with surprised delight.

“Anyway. Maybe you could give me your number, and finish telling me some time?”

Holy shit.

What?

Dan didn't realize they'd said that last part out loud (probably with a wildly surprised look on their face) until Phil's face dropped, jaw snapping closed with a click.

“Oh. I mean? No worries? It's tot-”

“No! No, no, no, no!” Dan cut him off with a string of frantic words, shoving one of their hands through their already mussed-up hair and waving the other one wildly in the air. “Shit! Oh my god, no no no no no, I'm so sorry, oh my god, Jesus fucking-”

They cut themself off with a heavy sigh, pinching the bridge of their nose with their fingertips.

“Sorry, I just- didn't expect that. Yes, yes of course, yes.” Dan smiled, more of a quirk of their lips than anything else, and Phil perked up with a hopeful smile.

“Awesome!” Phil pulled his phone out from his pocket and Dan entered their number in, saving themself under “danny boy ;) ;) ;)” and texting an “eyyyyy waddup boi” to their number with a satisfied nod.

“There we go,” they chirped, handing the phone back to Phil. The tall man stole a glance at his phone before shoving it back into his pocket, laughing at the contact name.

“Okay, so now this is goodbye, right?”

Phil nodded and smiled again, pulling them into another short hug. They went willingly and squeezed as hard as they could, bursting with a tiny giggle when Phil over-dramatically complained about not being able to breathe, jeez Dan, you're way too strong for this!

“Okay,” Dan said finally, dragging themself away from Phil's lanky frame. They trailed soft hands down the sleeves of Phil's sweater, stopping right above his hands to look up at him with a hopeful smile.

“See you around?” The pink flush on Phil's cheeks contrasted with the green glow from the street lights. He gave a tiny nod and, after a moment of hesitation, leaned down to press full lips briefly against Dan’s cheek.

It felt like clammy hands - whispered compliments - old rock music played as high as they could get it - a breeze blowing through their hair - legs intertwined - plants crowding the hallway of an apartment they didn't have yet -

Phil smelled like brownies once he got close enough, and Dan couldn't help but wonder what he would taste like if he got even closer.

Phil smiled softly (yet again, holy shit this guy is full of smiles and Dan feels blessed every time he sees one) at the small gasp Dan let out, flashing another tiny wave at the frozen person in front of him. He turned around quickly, almost tripping over a crack in the sidewalk, and rushed back across the street with shoulders that hunched to protect him against the wind. Dan watched him leave, letting the faint sounds of a Hozier song echo in their brain.

Dan pressed soft fingers to a frozen cheek (wow, how much more cliché can they get, really), feeling it puff up as their face stretched into a giddy smile.

This felt like the start to something good.

“and my baby's sweet as can be she he give me toothaches just from kissin’ me”

- work song, hozier

#phan #my fic #partlycharlie #phanfic #phanfiction #phandom #meet-cute #;) #fluff