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joelsdagger · 2 months

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let it flow | frankie morales x f!reader

read on ao3

pairing: sub!frankie x f!reader rating: 18+ minors dni word count: 4.4k (i think something possessed me bc this was originally 1k lmao) summary: you start a new form of birth control which has many side effects but frankie takes advantage of one side effect in particular. warnings: canon divergent, established relationship (reader and frankie are married), sub!frankie, soft dom!reader, body worship, pet names, nipple play, mommy kink, lactation kink, mutual masturbation , praise kink, pre-ejaculation, overstimulation, cumplay, cum eating, fluff. No use of Y/N. No physical descriptions of reader. um i think that’s it? *scratches neck* disclaimer: this is literally for shits and giggles bc a friend and i were talking about sub!frankie having a lactation kink, but we weren’t feeling the whole pregnancy trope so i found a loophole hehe. after extensive research, i found that certain types of birth control that include progestin *can* increase lactation as well as breast enlargement and tenderness, so i tweaked this specifically for the purpose of this fic. i don’t study medicine so some of this isn’t 100% accurate so if anything is wrong just remember this is just for horny fun and i changed some things to fit what i was going for. if this piece is not for you, that’s cool, obviously not everyone is gonna be into the same stuff but please just move along and let everyone else enjoy the fun.

a/n: thank you for all the love on my first fic i was so incredibly nervous about it but yall have been so so kind. technically, i told myself i would post this friday for frankie friday, but the longer shit stays in my drafts the more i start to hate it and the urge to scrape everything grows too strong lol. this one is for kat and lyss who gave me this idea and then we screamed about it til 1am. shout out to @skrunkly-scrimblo and @papurgaatika for beta’ing and literally always saving me bc i can never read my fics from start to finish so they always come thru during the editing process. and shout out to my pinterest QUEEN, @aurasjournal, for helping me with the visuals. thanks for reading i hope you like it <3 super cute divider by @saradika

You’re staring back at yourself in the foggy mirror of your bathroom, assessing your breasts, they’re full, heavy and they ache. This is the fourth day in a row of feeling the consequences of your new birth control and the pain has only gotten worse. “The shit we do….fuckin’ birth control,” you mumble under your breath.

You had switched to a different form of birth control earlier in the week, the IUD route wasn’t working out so well for you. For starters, the pain of getting the IUD implanted was unbelievably excruciating and on top of that, you had ParaGard (the copper IUD) implanted which didn’t have hormones so you were still getting your period. Your periods were heavy and painful and you have been seeking an alternative solution to stop them completely. At your last visit with your gynecologist, you both agreed to switch you over to taking birth control pills.

Your physician had informed you that the pill form was a progestin-only contraceptive that would decrease the bleeding during your menstrual cycle or possibly get rid of it completely if you skipped the placebo pills on the last week of your pack. There was one not-so-tiny problem, you were not told that being on the pill would make your tits swell and you sure as hell didn’t know the damn pill would make you lactate.

Earlier today you practically sobbed to your doctor on the phone.

“Doc, sorry to be blunt but my tits fucking hurt,” you cry, tears welling up in your eyes. At this point, the pain had become unbearable.

“That’s pretty normal hun, it’s a common side effect for some women. As I told you on Monday, the use of a hormonal birth control that contains progestin can increase the likelihood of producing breast milk even if you aren’t pregnant. It’s your hormones adjusting to the pill and it’s going to take your body three to four months to adjust,” your doctor explained.

‘Wait three to four months,” you shout, "Doc, you didn’t mention anything about that. What the hell am I supposed to do?” you ask rashly.

Your doctor hesitates, “Well, we could go back to the copper IUD but then-”

“Then, I’d get my period yeah absolutely not,” you frantically cut her off.

“We could book you to come back in and try another route but I’m booked until the end of the month,” she suggests.

“Of course you are, you’re like the only nice physician in the office, everyone wants to see you,” you laugh bitterly.

“There is something else that may help until we can see you in the office...many women have said that it helps,” she says.

You cross an arm around your chest, wincing slightly as your arm presses tightly against your chest, before dropping your arm back down at your side, “Okay…what is it?”

“You could massage them or have your husband stimulate your nipples,” she says nonchalantly.

“Stimulate my nipples?” you hesitate, your eyes widening at her suggestion.

“Yes, have him use his fingers or-”

“You’re not serious?”

Your doctor chuckles at your curiosity, “Yes, nipple stimulation and other sensual activities, can trigger and release the hormone, oxytocin, commonly referred to as the love hormone. Once oxytocin is triggered, your hormone levels are boosted and then it increases arousal and stress relief. Once it's released into the bloodstream, it helps alleviate breast tenderness and breast pain as well assisting with the flow of breast milk so yes, it’ll help.” she says pointedly.

You stare ahead, wide eyed and mouth agape. What the hell are you supposed to say to that?

“Look honey, many women have come in and told me directly that it helps, believe it or not, it even helps induce labor, but that’s beside the point, many women have been in your position and they have reported that it works. So at least try this out, and see how it makes you feel, just until we can get you an appointment and have you come in and then we can try something else. Alright?” she asks.

“Yeah alright, thanks again Doc,” you huff, your hand rubs at your temple before dragging it down your face.

“No problem hun, keep me updated through the portal,” she says.

“Will do,” you hung up the phone and tossed it on the couch.

That was six hours ago and now you’re standing in your bathroom as you wait for the bathtub to fill up. You read online that heat therapy could reduce some of the pain. While your husband was at work, you sprawled yourself out across the couch with a heating pad on your chest. It managed to ease the pain for a bit until the set timer turned the heating pad off and the second you stood up, the pain worsened again.

To be honest, you’re a little embarrassed to bring it up to Frankie. It's not like Frankie won’t want to do it, he’d be very interested but what the hell are you supposed to say to him. Hey honey, my tits hurt and they’re leaking breast milk. Can you play with them a little so they feel better? He loves to engage in a little titty appreciation but this is a whole different ball game. You really aren’t in the mood to have this conversation with Frankie tonight, unsure of how he would react and possibly causing a bigger issue.

You can hear the TV through the bathroom door, Frankie is watching some game. But when he hears you croak out in pain when you remove your bra, hands clutching at your swollen breasts, he moves lightning fast towards the bathroom door.

“Querida, are you alright in there?” he asks through the door, his hand wrapped around the door handle.

You bite down on your lip, sighing before you finally bite the bullet and admit what’s going on. You crack open the door just enough so he can hear you better.

“It’s-,” You let out another exhausted sigh as you rub your temple, feeling your cheeks warm.

“Remember, a few days ago, I went to my gynecologist and we decided to switch birth control methods?” He nods, eyes full of concern.

“The pills are making my hormones go crazy and they’re making my tits swell and well…” you pull the door open to gesture towards your breasts. “I’m like a fucking pregnant woman but without the damn pregnancy,” you grumble.

You immediately clock the worry on his face but Frankie can’t help the fact that he is practically salivating when he looks down at your tits. You notice his jaw slacken, his lips part as he takes in the curve of your breasts, they have grown a noticeable difference in size. You hear him inhale sharply when his stare drops to your nipples, dark and swollen.

Suddenly feeling a little shy under the intensity of his gaze, you bring a hand up to cover your breasts, he inhales once again before speaking, yet you speak before he does, “It’s fine, apparently a bath will help, and I’ve got the water running. I’ll be out in a few minutes babe,” you press, a tight smile on your face.

You see it all over his face, he wants to help but he doesn’t know how. His big, deep brown eyes filled with worry. “Okay baby, I’ll give you some privacy. I’ll be in the bedroom if you need anything,” he says quietly, eyebrows still raised. You can sense the uneasiness in his body language but he doesn’t press the subject.

You thank him and shut the door, hearing him step back towards the bed. You slip off your panties and toss them into the hamper, then step into the hot water, sighing as you dip beneath the water.

After a few short minutes, you slowly bring your hands up to cup your breasts, experimentally kneading them. You press your hands more firmly and you bite down on your lip as you try to muffle a quiet moan. Huh. It does help. You continue toying with them until the water is no longer warm and your fingers become pruny.

Dragging yourself out of the water and stepping out of the tub, you pull the plug out, the water spinning through the drain. Leisurely, you dry yourself off, pull a thin white tank top over your head, and drag a clean pair of blue lace panties over your legs.

As you open the door to let the steam out of the bathroom, you grab your fuzzy robe from the hook behind the door, wrap it around your damp body, and head into the bedroom to catch the rest of the game with your husband.

Yet, to your surprise, you find the TV off and instead see Frankie sitting up in bed, one hand tucked behind his head and the other holding his phone as he squints at the screen.

You chuckle as you walk over to your nightstand. “Thought you were supposed to be wearing your glasses?” You tease, your lips forming into a smile.

“I look dorky with ‘em, ‘sides I don’t need them right now,” he mimics your tone and turns his head to watch as you pump some of your cocoa butter body lotion into your hand and work it into your skin.

“So, I did some googling,” he starts, a sly smirk creeping up onto his face as he continues, “It said…messaging them and sucking on them would help.” His eyes are still on the bare parts of your damp skin, completely enamored by how your skin looks in the dim light of your bedroom.

You tense, hands freezing, streaks of lotion yet to be fully rubbed into your skin, “Baby, that’s ridiculous,” you laugh him off.

“No, I’m serious look,” Frankie sits up and moves across the bed, holding out his phone for you to read the article he was studying beforehand.

“I don’t know about this Frankie,” you shake your head, frowning while you avert your eyes from his.

“Come here,” smirking devilishly as he brings his hands up to your arms, pulling you towards the bed.

“Frankie–” you scoff, playfully rolling your eyes at him.

He tilts his head up to look up at you with those big brown eyes that you often find difficult turning down. “Trust me,” his hands rubbing up and down your arms soothingly.

“You know I do, Frankie, the hell did I marry you for,” you tease, you sneak your hands behind his neck and interlock your fingers as you lean down and press a soft kiss to his head.

“Then c’mere, let me help,” he whispers and it sounds more like a plea. He’s pulling you down onto the bed, guiding you to sit up against the pillows. His hands find your robe, untying the knot in the soft belt across your waist. You lean forward slightly while he pulls your robe off slowly, his eyes watching your face, searching for any indication to stop but he doesn’t find any.

He tosses the robe behind him on the bed as he leans down over you, nudging your legs open as he settles himself between your legs. He brings his hands back up to the thin material of your tank top, cupping your tender breasts in his large hands.

“You’re so beautiful, so perfect, fuck–, so pretty baby,” he babbles lowly, goosebumps erupt on your skin, even after years of being married to him he still knows exactly what to say to make you feel so desirable.

He gently squeezes your breasts, his thumb sweeps over your nipple back and forth, you whine softly as your hands find his hair, burying your fingers in his curls. It hurts but it’s pleasurable, the pressure he’s using feels better than what you were doing earlier in the bath.

Frankie pinches your covered nipples between his rough fingers, hardening under his touch, you hiss when he tweaks them tightly, Frankie pauses, his eyes meet yours for a moment, “it’s okay–feels good, keep going,” you whisper to him.

He brings his mouth down to one of your nipples and sucks it through the material with his other hand still fondling your other nipple. “Fuck– that feels good Frankie,” you moan, he whimpers lowly and feels his cock twitch in his boxers. Your eyes roll back in your head, your mouth falls open and he hollows his cheeks, sucking harder around your nipple.

His mouth lets go of your breast, you look down to see the wet patch that formed over your peaked-covered nipple before he hastily pulls the tank top over your head, tossing it onto the floor, Frankie lets out a shameless groan when his eyes hungrily lock on your bare chest like a missile to a target.

He leans in closer, his mouth hovering over your breast. You feel the warmth of his breath over your breast, a tingling sensation sneaks down your body. His hot mouth closes around your pebbled nipple.

“Shit, Frankie,” you arch further into his mouth, and he moans and his tongue flicks up against your peaked nipple, and then he bites down softly, his eyes open, looking up at you from under his eyelashes. Frankie feels a slight warm gush fill his mouth, his eyes slip closed, whimpering around the bud.

You tug on Frankie’s hair, pulling his mouth away from you, your stomach twisting at his reaction when he feels the gush of liquid filling his mouth. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t know that would happen-”

“Baby, hey, it’s okay. I was just surprised-”

“No I know, it’s just gross,” you frown, feeling the pang of embarrassment in your belly.

“It’s not–it’s not gross. I–I liked it,” Frankie says sheepishly.

“Really?” you ask softly.

He laughs lightly and leans forward to press a kiss to the corner of your mouth then another just below your jaw. His beard scraping along your skin as he places wet open-mouthed kisses down your neck, all the way down past your collarbones until he reaches the valley of your breasts once again.

“Relax baby, I got ya,” he whispers against your skin.

Your eyes squeeze shut, your head falls back against the headboard, and your hand comes up to the nape of his neck, petting at his long brown curls. He ducks down to bring his mouth to your nipple, he parts his lips around the bud, his tongue circling around the bud a few times, licking at your nipple, he closes his lips and sucks softly before tugging it between his teeth, he hums around it, making you grasp at the sheets beneath you, a low ache building in the pit of your stomach.

“That’s it baby boy,” you say softly, petting his hair. You open your eyes when you feel him press his cock against your leg, his cock stirring in his boxers at your praise.

He’s loving this, loves the taste of you and loves how good he’s making you feel.

His hand palms your other breast, squeezing and kneading the meat of your tit, beads of milk collecting at the peak. He takes your nipple in between his calloused fingers and pinches it harder between his index and middle finger, the milk pours out from the bud down his hand and onto his forearm.

Frankie feels the warm liquid on his arm, his mouth letting go of your breast, his pupils full of lust never leaving your face as he lifts his left hand up and licks a long slow, thick stripe from his forearm up his hand. Your mouth falls open and your chest heaves at the sight.

“You taste so fucking sweet, baby,” he groans, his eyes closing at the taste of you. His cock twitches against your leg, now painfully hard in his boxers.

He dips his head back down and licks up the milk leaking down your torso up to your nipple. He moans once his hot mouth latches around the stiff peak and his tongue swirls around it. He laps up the warm white liquid he’s sucking out of your breast. “There you go baby, just like that,” you sigh, closing your eyes and your head falls back against the headboard.

One of his knees perches onto your leg, he grinds his cock against the meat of your thigh, he moans deeply, his fingers digging into the flesh of your breasts. “So, needy for me huh, baby boy,” you tut, gripping firmly onto his soft curls.

He whines quietly, and unbeknownst to Frankie, he starts rutting his hard length against your leg in slow, shallow thrusts, you feel a rumble of a moan in his throat around your nipple. At the sudden movement, your head snaps up to see your husband getting himself off against your body, his teeth sinking into your breast.

You’ve never seen him like this before, he’s insatiable and relentless and it makes your pussy pulse and clench around nothing.

“Ohhh that’s it– good boy Frankie,” you moan breathlessly, feeling him suck harder on your breast with a deep groan.

You grab at Frankie’s hair again, your hand combs his hair back while tugging at his hair, gently pulling his head back and he whines loudly when you pull his mouth away from your breast. You catch a glistening sheen on his lips when you direct his head to your other breast.

Your eyes meet his dark, blown out pupils as your thumb rubs his cheek down to the corner of his mouth. You thumb the bottom of his plump, soft lip, wiping the milk off of his mouth. Your thumb slips between his lips and you whisper, “Who’s my good boy?”

He shivers beneath your touch, “I am,” he murmurs softly, his head resting down on your chest once again. Your hand cradles his head and you move your hand down along his head to cup his face.

You watch your husband’s eyes shut as he closes his mouth around your nipple and continues suckling from your breast, “Fuck– Frankie, keep going,” you pant into his hair, your hands still toying with his curls, eliciting another whine from him.

He shifts and begins fucking himself into the mattress once again, seeking any type of friction possible.

Watching your husband getting himself off to your body sends a sharp, hot spark of arousal down your spine straight to your core, your pussy throbbing and your panties now wet and sticky with your slick.

You smirk and bring your lips down to his ear, whispering the word that you know lights a fire within him. “You’re making mommy feel so good baby,” and Frankie whimpers, his mouth swallowing your breast whole, his hips grinding down faster into the mattress.

“That’s it, baby, atta boy, such a good boy for mommy,” you coo into his ear. Frankie lets out a high-pitched whine, his hips stuttering and groaning when he feels himself spilling out all over the inside of his boxers. Your mouth falls open, your eyes wide as you stare at him, realizing he just came simply from putting his mouth on you.

His hips shudder, occasionally jerking erratically, his legs shaking uncontrollably as he hisses from overstimulation, you continue whispering praises into his ears.

While his mouth works on relieving your breast you take matters into your own hands, bringing your fingers down to your neglected cunt. You press your fingers into your covered slit, feeling the wetness of your pussy through the material before pushing your panties to the side. You move your fingers to your throbbing clit, circling eagerly while his tongue swirls over your nipple.

He bites down on the bud a little more harshly, feeling another gush of warm liquid in his mouth, “tastes so good mi corozòn,” he whimpers against your breast, closing his eyes while his teeth nip at the wet bud.

Feeling a cooling wetness from his eyes seeping onto your breast, you briefly look down to find tears stinging his eyes from the pleasure, the teeth marks on your nipples, your skin all wet and red from his mouth.

He continues sucking at your breast, licking up the sweet taste of you into his mouth and moaning around your nipple, savoring the taste.

You slip your fingers into your wet heat with a moan. “So good, Frankie, ohhh– you’re doing so well for mommy,” you gasp out while grinding your hips up into your own hand. He whimpers, his cock twitches, throbbing lightly against the mattress, he’s getting hard just from hearing that word once again.

Your other hand roughly tugs on Frankie’s soft locks, pushing his head further into you, swallowing more of your breast into his mouth.

Frankie was too far gone to notice, but you realize he’s grinding himself into the bed once again, still moaning and whimpering into your tender flesh. You thrust your fingers into your pussy, timing them to Frankie’s thrusts into the bed, the wet squelch from your fingers thrusting in and out obscenely echoes in your bedroom.

“That’s perfect, Frankie— don– don’t stop…shit. I’m so close–” You curl your fingers inside yourself, petting at the spongy spot deep inside while his teeth nip and lick and suck at your tit.

You shout Frankie’s name as your back arches off the bed, legs shaking around Frankie’s body when your orgasm finally sweeps over you.

He pulls off your nipple with a wet pop, moving fast to sit up and back on his knees, his hands making quick work of pulling off his underwear. His cock bobs up against the soft swell of his stomach. He hisses when he wraps a large hand around the girth and he thumbs the wide blunt of his tip smearing the beads of pearly white dribbling out from the slit.

Your tongue pokes out, licking your bottom lip before biting down on the flesh. Your hands massage your breasts, your fingers pinching your erect, sensitive nipples under Frankie’s fucked out gaze.

Desperately, he fists his cock over your figure. “Come, baby. Be a good boy and come for mommy,” you order him while staring into his eyes, dark and dilated, his mouth hanging open as he strokes his cock.

Your low voice and your words are all he needs to bring him over the edge. The thrusting of his hips gets more erratic as he jacks his cock tighter in his hand and increases the pace, the wet, lewd slap from his strokes gets louder, his whimpers and pants filling the otherwise quiet room.

“There you go, atta boy, give it to me Frankie, let it out," you encourage him softly.

Your eyes watch the muscles in his soft belly tighten and his thighs tensing up, his moans growing louder and louder and louder, his eyes roll back into his head, “Fuck– mami,” a long drawn out, agonizing groan slipping past his lips, you watch as his cock twitches in his hand, his hips stammer as long, thick, warm ropes of cum paint your stomach.

“That’s it baby, just like that, you did so good. So good Frankie,” you murmur. He opens his eyes and looks back down at you, still catching his breath while he watches the last of his cum spill onto your swollen breasts, he groans seeing the marks he’s left on your skin. Your tits are covered in splotches of red and teeth marks from his mouth, his come and the milk from your breasts leaking down your chest and onto your stomach.

His hair is a mess, his pupils are blown out, he looks completely in a haze, utterly fucked out. You smirk up at him and click your tongue, “You made such a mess on mommy, Frankie.”

His cheeks warm, the redness creeping down his neck and chest, he’s embarrassed. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to do that,” he mumbles, his hand scratching the back of his neck.

You move your fingers down your stomach, gathering his cum onto your fingers, “Don’t get shy on me now, come here my love,” your other hand reaches for him.

He crawls up towards your side, you slip a coated finger into your mouth and you close your eyes and hum. Frankie curses quietly to himself, seeing your pearly-covered finger slipping into your mouth and back out devoid of sheen.

You bring a finger up to his mouth, your fingertip pressing against his lips, “open,” you order. You take advantage of his jaw slackening, sticking your glossy finger into his mouth and his lips close around your digit. You feel his tongue flatten underneath your finger then swirls it around your finger as he sucks it clean, he closes his eyes, his brows furrow, and he moans at the salty taste.

“See, I keep telling you, you taste good, sweetheart,” you smile down at him, tucking a single brown lock behind his ear.

“You did so good for me baby, made me feel so good,” you tell him while holding his patchy-bearded face. He chuckles timidly before pressing his lips to yours, licking behind your teeth, tasting himself in your mouth and mumbles a faint I love you against your lips.

Frankie pecks your lips again before sitting up and walking over to the bathroom. You hear him flick the light on and the tap turning on and off while your eyes drift shut. You feel the warm wet rag dragging across your tummy and your tits, and then down between your folds as he cleans you up with tenderness.

You open your eyes again when you hear him pad off towards the bathroom once more, watching him toss the washcloth back in the bathroom before he tucks himself into your side and nuzzles his face into the valley of your breasts, the coarse hairs of his beard tickling your skin.

Frankie’s low voice breaks the comfortable silence, “Next time it hurts, you tell me cariño, ‘m more than happy to do that again,” he says shyly, feeling the smile on his face against your chest.

You fail to suppress your giggle, “Yeah, you enjoyed yourself didn’t you, sweet boy?” Your fingers run through his long soft brown curls, your fingertips grazing down his neck, a hint of sweat at the end of his hair along the back of his neck.

“Mhm,” he hums, and you grin into his hair, pressing your lips to his messy curls, your eyelids heavy with sleep. He feels your fingers still, Frankie tilts his head to look up at you, “Don’t fall asleep yet, we’re not done mi vida, I still need to make you come again.”

#frankie morales x reader #frankie morales x f!reader #frankie morales #sub!frankie morales #triple frontier fanfiction #frankie morales smut #frankie morales x you #frankie morales x y/n #frankie morales fanfiction #frankie morales fanfic #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x reader #noelle's workshop #noelle writes

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agentwhiskeysdarlin · 3 months

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Making It Up To You

Pairing: Jack ‘Whiskey’ Daniels x F!Reader

Rating: NSFW 18+ (minors dni)

Warnings: Jack being the actual sweetest & a little shit, a dash of angst, the cutest banter, domestic bliss, all the surprise, cheesy romantic set up but we love it, the hottest smutty times, oral (female receiving), p in x sex, unprotected sex, gentle but fast sex

Word Count: 2.8k

Author’s Notes: Welp it has been awhile but I finally got a new fic written!!! Just in time for Valentines Day. I’ve had this idea planned for awhile now and it finally got done! As always massive thanks to @clint-aww-no-barton. If you want to be added or removed from my taglist please let me know! Also I am slowly going to be getting old fics on ao3 that haven’t made it yet. I am very sorry it has taken so long to get the ones not up done. It’s not the easiest thing to do. Thank you all and hopefully I am back!

ao3 link coming sometime…

The evening was settling around you. The cool wind and the darkening light made you finally go inside. You’d spent a lot of the afternoon outside, reading and sipping on some wine. You’d done everything you could to distract yourself. As you stepped inside and looked around your empty home, you let out a sigh. The home felt so big and lonely without Jack here. You would think after all these years, and all the missions, you would be used to this by now. You would never get used to it. Most of the time it didn’t bother you, this badly, but given the date it felt worse. Your phone rang making you jump, as it pulled you back to reality. The corner of your mouth quirked up slightly at the sound of Jack’s ringtone, and the request for FaceTime.

“There’s my girl. Happy Valentines Day darlin’!” Jack spoke with enthusiasm, a smile bright on his face.

“Hi cowboy. Happy Valentines Day.” You tried to force a bright smile, but you knew he would see right through you.

“What’s wrong?” His face fell and his brow furrowed.

“I just miss you is all,” you spoke, your smile falling.

You moved throughout the house, turning on lights and putting away your glass and wine.

“I miss you too angel. And I really hate that I’m gone today. I fully intend to make this up to you.”

There was a glint in his eye, and as you sat down on the couch you gave him a questioning look.

“What are you up to Jack Daniels?”

“You’ll see soon,” he smirked as he stood and moved somewhere else in his hotel room “Actually sooner than I thought. Like right about…”

There was a knock at the door, and your head jerked that way, before looking back at Jack with confusion all over your face.

“Now. Go answer the door darlin’.”

“Okayyyy.”

You pushed off the couch taking your phone, and therefore Jack, along with you. You opened your door to a pizza delivery man.

“Your pizza ma’am.” He spoke with a smile that seemed knowing, as you gave him a smile, still confused.

“Thank you. Hang on I’ll get you some money.”

“It’s been taken care of. Have a good night.”

“Oh? Well thank you. You as well,” you gave him a nod and shut the door as he turned to leave.

You carefully took the pizza, and the other box that was sitting on top, to the island setting the phone up against them.

“What’s this all about Jack?” You looked at him through the phone screen, desperately wishing he were here.

“Well I thought we could have a little virtual Valentines Day date, since it’s the best we got. I even ordered the same thing, so it seemed like we were really together.”

You could have cried as you looked at the man you loved. The thought he put behind so many things still took you by surprise. Any other man wouldn’t have done this, but Jack wasn’t like any other man.

“Jack,” his name came off your lips, voice breaking slightly.

“Now now none of that darlin’. Get you a drink and set me up so we’re across from each other.”

You moved around the kitchen doing as he asked, grabbing some water and a plate, before sitting down at your dining room table. You pulled the vase of flowers from the middle of the table so they were across from you, and you gently propped your phone against it. Jack must have done something similar because now you seemingly sat across from each other.

“Now let’s eat!” Jack rubbed his hands together, and you giggled before you grabbed a piece of pizza and some cheesy bread.

Jack and yourself fell into casual talk about each other’s day. You asked him questions about the mission and he shared what he could. He asked you had done while he was away this time. You laughed softly with how well he knew you. Always ready with a list of things to do while he was gone. Finally you both finished and you sat back, full.

“That was amazing. Thank you for dinner Jack,” you smiled softly.

“You never have to thank me for that darlin’. Now you want to watch a movie or we could do something else?”

“Honestly I would like to just enjoy you and your company. If that’s okay?” You asked suddenly worried you might have ruined more of his plan.

“That’s perfectly okay angel. After dinner I was leaving the rest up to you.”

“Okay. I didn’t want to ruin any more sneaky plans you might have had.”

“You don’t ruin anything angel. I’ve had my shower already but I am going to get comfy if you would like to join me.”

“Jack are you trying to get me naked?” You asked with a smirk, as you walked the house, making sure the doors were locked before going to your shared bedroom.

“Is it working?” You could hear his smirk, even though he was off camera getting clothes.

“Well I do have to, in order to put on pjs, but you’re not going to see.” Your voice teasing.

“What?!” Jack shot back into the frame and you let out a laugh. “Now why not?!”

“Because I’m not having FaceTime sex with you. We gotta stay riled up until you get home remember, our deal?”

“The deal I came up with? Let’s break it.”

“You are such a man. Plus look who is changed and I didn’t see a thing.”

You spoke with amusement, earning a shocked look from Jack, before moving out of frame to change.

“So rude,” he mumbled but you could tell he was holding in a laugh.

“I’ll remember that when you get home,” you spoke with a laugh as you moved back in frame, grabbing your phone and climbing into bed.

You turned Jack’s pillow and set the phone against it.

“Now it’s like you are right next to me.” Even when you spoke the words, they were laced with a slight sadness.

“Oh no now, give me my laughing girl back.”

“It’s just…you’re not here to hold me.”

“I know darlin’. I hope I’m home soon. I know this wasn’t the ideal Valentines Day for you either. I’m sorry.”

“Jack don’t be sorry. What you did was perfect and I loved it.”

You watched as Jack settled in, seeming to do the same thing as you, setting up his phone on your side of the bed. You smiled softly at him as he laid down.

“Hi,” you spoke.

“Hi there angel,” he smirked giving you a wink.

“You are going to be asleep in like five minutes if I’m lucky.”

“Now you don’t know that.”

“Oh but I do. You hit the pillow and you’re gone. I’ve watched an entire season of a show while you sleep!”

“You have not!!” Jack spoke defensively but laughed.

“Oh but I have! Finished a book, silently screaming right next to you. All sorts of things have been done between the time you fell asleep and the time I do.” You laughed as Jack faked an overly dramatic face of defense.

“I feel attacked right now. I can’t help it.”

“You are a man cowboy, it comes with the territory, fortunately for you.” You laughed before settling more into the bed.

“You’re getting sleepy now though aren’t you?” Jack smirked.

“Yeah I can’t lie I am.”

“You can go to sleep darlin’. I’ll stay right here until you do.”

“I don’t want to though. I don’t want this to end yet.”

“I know but you need your rest angel.”

“I know,” your voice laced with sadness.

You turned the tv on and turned your side table lamp down to the dim setting before turning back to Jack. You were met with dimmed lighting on his end as well. You realized, in the quiet, he was watching the same show as you.

“Are you watching the same thing?”

“Trying to keep up with us being together without being together. I want you to feel like I’m there when you close your eyes.”

“I love you Jack.” You spoke with a smile, overwhelmed by this man and the things he did for you.

“I love you too darlin’. Now close your eyes and get some rest.”

You simply nodded your head before closing your eyes. Sooner than you expected, you slipped away to a deep, peaceful sleep.

*****

Your day had been full of errands. You were expecting Jack home anytime now, and you wanted the house fully stocked. You’d allowed yourself to have a me day, to continue to keep yourself distracted, before heading to the grocery store. The first store didn’t have everything on your list, and three stores later you were finally done. Everything marked off your list and tiredness filling your body. You finally pulled into the driveway, grabbing the first set of bags. You battled with the door, before finally getting it open, before you stopped dead in your tracks. Fake flickering candles filled your entire house, and a small path of rose petals guided you to the bedroom. You looked up, eyes finding Jack, leaning against the doorframe of your bedroom. You gulped at the sight before you. He looked undone, with his tie gone, his shirt unbuttoned at the top and sleeves rolled up to his elbows.

“Hiya darlin’,” he smirked with a knowing look at your jaw on the floor.

“Jack. When did you get home?” You smiled softly as he pushed off the doorframe, and the two of you gravitated to each other.

“Just a few hours ago. Long enough to put this together,” he held his arms out slightly, before his hands fell to your hips and pulled you close.

His lips met yours, breaking your bright smile as you kissed him back deeply. Your hands went up his chest, unbuttoning some more buttons.

“I have groceries in the car,” you breathed out, knowing exactly where this was going by the hunger in Jack’s entire being.

“Anything frozen?”

“No.”

“Then don’t worry about it,” Jack spoke with a whisper and you simply nodded, before your lips were crashing back to each other.

You swore this man could always make you feel dizzy, and completely broken in the best way. Jack’s hands moved to your ass, and you jumped wrapping your legs around his waist, as he skillfully carried you to the bedroom, never letting his lips fall from yours.

“I think I got a certain holiday to make up for,” Jack finally pulled away, allowing air to fill your lungs, and you smirked.

“That you do cowboy. Along with being gone,” you mirrored his smirk, your eyes moving to the ceiling thinking, your fingers brushing at the hair at Jack’s neck.

“I hope you don’t have any plans for the next few days then.”

“The only plans I have are you,” you smirked before your lips fell back to his.

It never failed, when Jack returned home and he was able, the two of you were like teenagers, rushing to get the deed done before you were caught by your parents. Things moved fast, hands and lips were everywhere and limbs tangled. But Jack and yourself knew each other like a map you’d memorized. Knew every sensitive place and what it did for the other. The two of you had plenty of study time. That was another thing that made the two of you so much like teenagers. You never could get enough of each other. Your body meeting the mattress pulled you back to the moment. Jack had released you completely, and as your eyes fluttered open already heavy with desire, you watched him as his eyes racked over you.

“I have no idea how I got so damn lucky, my god you’re beautiful angel.”

“I liked your truck,” you tried to say with a straight face, but couldn’t help a laugh.

“Oh it was my truck huh?” Jack’s eyebrows raised as he crawled over you. “It has nothing to do with this…”

He trailed off as his hands slowly traced up your shirt, his lips falling to your neck. Your eyes fluttered shut and you surrounded yourself with him. He raised your shirt over your head, and discarded it before, quickly removing your bra.

“Or this…” his voice dipped lower as his lips traveled down, meeting your already hard nipple.

He pulled it between his teeth. flicking it with his tongue before releasing it, pulling a moan from you. He licked over it once more, before moving to the next to do the same. Then he was continuing his way down. and your breathing started to become heavier. He had your pants and underwear gone within moments.

“Or this,” Jack’s eyes bore into yours as you looked down, darkened with lust and he smirked before his head dipped between your legs.

His mouth came in contact with your wet pussy and your head flew back and your hand laced in his hair. This man knew what to do with that damn mouth of his. You didn’t realize how worked up you were until you could feel yourself racing to your climax.

“Okay Jack, yes it was this and all the things before and all the things you were going to do to me after!” You moaned loudly as you pulled gently as his hair.

He looked up at you with a grin that made you bust out laughing.

“The truck is just a plus,” you giggle and he stood, quickly removing his shirt, letting out a laugh as well.

You sat up to start on his pants, which he finished removing, before crawling over you again, as you crawled backwards towards the headboard.

“I promise you in the coming days,” he paused, to give you a wink that made you laugh again “I’m going to take my damn time with you but right now…”

Jack entered you taking you by surprise, and your brow furrowed at the pleasure that filled every inch of your body. You looked at him like he hung the moon and the stars, before his hips started to slowly thrust. He didn’t last long going slow, before his speed picked up, but never once did he become too rough, staying gentle but quick. You were soaring, trying so hard to put off the orgasm that was quickly riding its wave to you, but it was a battle you had yet to learn how to win.

“Jack,” his name fell from your lips in a whine of desperation.

“Let go for me angel. I got you,” his forehead fell to yours, and you locked eyes with him as you came hard around him.

You fought to keep his stare until you lost, closing your eyes and submitting yourself to the tidal wave. Jack was not far behind you, burying his face in your neck as he let go deep inside of you. The two of you lay there, panting in the blissful aftermath, before Jack did the one thing the two of you hated most of love making, he pulled away. He didn’t go far, rolling to his back and the two of you were quick to turn to each other.

“That was amazing as always,” you smirked as you moved in close, your fingers brushing at his chest.

“We do make a pretty good team don’t we?” Jack smiled brightly and you laughed but a smile lingered across your lips.

“We really do.”

Silence fell for a few moments, before his fingers brushed at your chin, your eyes catching his.

“I missed you,” he spoke gently, his fingers brushing hair behind your ear.

“I missed you too.”

“I told Champ I wasn’t coming in for at least three days.”

“I’m calling him to tell him you will be in in two.”

Jack’s mouth fell open in fake appall.

“Now why are you trying to get rid of me a whole day early?!”

“Because if we go three days just like this, much less how we plan to go, I’ll be in the grave by the end.”

Jack paused for a moment, and briefly you thought you had seriously hurt his feelings.

“Yeah you’re probably right. I would be right behind you.”

You both let out a laugh, before he pulled you to him and kissed you once again. You pulled away, and with a sigh moved to get out of bed, before Jack’s hand on your wrist caught you.

“Now where do you think you’re going?” He pulled you back down to the bed, caging you under his body.

“The groceries are still in the car.”

“Eh we’ll get them tomorrow they’ll be fine.”

“Fine but if you make me not be able to walk in the morning, you’ll have to haul them in by yourself.”

“Angel I wasn’t going to make you bring another bag in this house anyways.”

“Then proceed,” you smirked.

Jack’s lips fell back to yours, both of you wearing a wide smile and he did indeed proceed.

Tagged: @jimmythegirl @arcadianempress @discogrrl @immundusspiritu @someplace-darker @thisis-theway @ohpedromypedro @scribbledghost @fioccodineveautunnale @princess-and-pedro @phoenixhalliwell @littlevodka @all-hallows-evie @mack4676 @perropascal @audreyshepbvrn @mswarriorbabe80 @kaqua @novemberrain221 @weasleywinchester @lady-bess

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cranberrymoons · 5 months

Text

speak a little louder

prompt: mutual pining (@steddieholidaydrabbles) rated: t word count: 673 words tags: fluff, flirting, nerds in a basement

welcome to Day 3 of the fic advent calendar – bite-sized fics posting every day during the month of december. enjoy!

The campaign lasts all day.

That’s what they call it – a campaign – as if it’s an actual military coup and not what it really is, which is a bunch of teenage nerds sitting around a table in Mike Wheeler’s basement with sodas and a bag full of dice.

Steve is used to it by now, but he doesn’t expect to have to wait for a whole extra hour when he shows up to collect them, but here he is, sitting on the couch in the corner and staring at the ceiling while he listens to Eddie drone on and on about elves or some shit.

Well – drone is maybe sort of an inaccurate word, considering how into it Eddie’s getting, crouched on his seat like a gargoyle, talking with his hands, doing the voices. It’s actually kind of fun to watch, and Steve is maybe sort of pretending not to find it as interesting as he does, because he has a reputation to maintain, dammit, and he refuses to be drawn in by the spark in Eddie’s eye or the flush on his cheeks or the way his fingers weave strands of the story across the table.

Whatever. Steve doesn’t even care.

“Sorry about that,” Eddie says when it finally wraps up, when he’s climbed off his chair and is standing in front of Steve while the kids bicker over something and take their sweet time packing their things. “Couldn’t stop in the middle, they would’ve killed me.”

He reaches behind his ear for a cigarette stuck there, and Steve stares at the way his rings catch the light as his hand moves.

“No problem,” he says. He clears his throat. “Hey, can I –”

He nods his head toward the cigarette, and Eddie raises his eyebrows, holding it out.

“Bum a smoke?” he asks. “Sure, Harrington. Anything for the valiant babysitter.”

Steve smiles as he accepts it from him, and he tries to ignore the way his stomach flips when their fingers brush.

“Thanks.”

---

They take them upstairs, outside to wait for the kids, and it’s starting to get cold enough now that Steve has to flip up the collar of his jacket against the chill as soon as they step onto the porch.

“That was cool back there,” he says around the filter clenched in his teeth as he ducks his head to light the cigarette. “The thing, or whatever.”

Eddie eyes him for a moment, then flicks ash onto the ground. “It was like… the metric opposite of cool, but thanks anyway.”

Steve laughs. “Still. It looked fun.”

“You should join us sometime,” Eddie says. He clears his throat. “I mean… if you want.”

And Steve can’t help it; even on top of everything big and scary going on in his chest right now, the idea of actually playing the fantasy math nerd game sounds like –

“I don’t know,” he says, shaking his head. “I think I’ll leave that one to the pros.”

Eddie laughs a little. “Oh, we’re pros now?”

“You managed to save the elf. I think. Sounds pretty professional to me. I couldn’t save an elf.”

Eddie gives him a look. “There wasn’t even an elf in that part of the campaign. I think you’re just making shit up.”

Steve laughs too at that. “Yeah, I had… no idea what you were doing. But the kids seemed into it.”

“So what are you into, then?” Eddie asks. “If not nerd shit, then what?”

You , Steve wants to say. Mostly these days, I’m just into you .

He takes a breath. “I don’t know,” he says instead. “I don’t mind the fantasy stuff. It’s the math part I have issues with.”

Eddie smiles a little. “Then take the numbers out of it. Come watch a movie with me sometime. I bet we can find some kind of nerd thing for you to be into.”

Steve feels his stomach give another little jolt as he stubs out his cigarette. “Yeah, I bet we can.”

[also on ao3]

#steddie #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #steddieholidaydrabbles #my fic

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lincolndjarin · 9 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter eight : solar markets (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

pairing : bodyguard!Din Djarin x afab!princess!reader

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 5.3k

summary : the mandalorian takes reader on a day trip

warnings, etc. : language, reader thinks about sex like a little bit

A/N : i had to change accounts so this is a re-upload of my ongoing fic bks!!

It’s nice to wake up excited again.

You wish you could say that it happened more often but hopefully it will from now on. It’s going to be your first time leaving the castle grounds since you got here. You’ve spent the last four weeks cooped up and you couldn’t be more thrilled to finally get to see something new.

As much as you love the library it can be suffocating to spend every single day between those four walls.

So you summon Elaine and Lysa as quickly as possible, grinning as you stand in the mirror until you notice the faint blooms of purple on your waist.

Shit.

You have to rush to find undergarments that will cover them and you’re barely pulling them over your hips as the door swings open.

“Good morning ma’am.” Elaine smiles at you as she grabs a brush, going to stand behind you to comb out the knots in your hair. She snaps her fingers sharply and points to the closet signaling for Lysa to fetch you a gown.

“Good morning Elaine.” You give her a smile, “Good morning Lysa!” You say slightly louder as you watch in the mirror as she brings out a flowy lilac gown. “I’m going out today girls.” You turn to smile at both of them.

“Is that so ma’am? Where are you going?” Elaine speaks as she pulls the dress over your head and begins lacing up the corset.

“The Mandalorian is accompanying me to the markets in the city today.” You try to hold back a bit of the enthusiasm in your voice.

“Mhmm. That sounds wonderful ma’am.” Her head turns. “Go get her a cloak, and then go find Leodall to give her some credits.”

“Of course.” In a rush Lysa threw a light gray cloak onto the bed and darted out of the room. Elaine dressed you in near silence after that, softly humming a song to herself every once in a while as you let her straighten the cloak over your shoulders.

It gives you time to think.

Are things going to be different now? It would be hard to go back to how things were at this point, but you don’t want to have to act like strangers again. You’ve agreed to keep having sex at the very least which is a huge relief, but you also want to make sure that you can still talk to him. Just act normal. Act like nothing is different.

She’s quick with your makeup, doing some simple little accents around your eyes and letting your hair fall around your face in a way she typically doesn’t.

“Even though you haven’t made many public appearances it will be best to keep your face mostly hidden my lady.” She adjusts the hood slightly over your hair to shield the top of your head. You nod slowly.

“Is there a bag I can take?” Is all you have to say in response, you aren’t particularly worried about any threats in the city. After all, you have Mando. Who, now that you’re thinking about it, you have never seen in action. Sure he’s big and imposing but it’s still troubling to think that he might be all talk. He does love to talk. You’ll be fine. He wouldn’t take you into the city if he couldn’t protect you.

Probably.

Elaine throws a white satchel over your shoulders and takes a step back to admire her work before nodding.

“If you’re ready I’m sure he’s waiting for you.” She gives you a grin before leaving. You take a good look at yourself in the mirror, Elaine really does work wonders. You honestly aren’t sure how she does it, it’s not like you’re unattractive by any means but you don’t think you were this alluring back on Hoth.

Is it okay to hope that he notices? That doesn’t break any rules right?

You don’t have long to wonder because Leodall is bursting into the room holding a small leather coin purse. Holding it out to you.

“I wish you had given me more warning princess… this was what I was able to put together on such short notice.” He’s seemingly trying to catch his breath still as you take the purse and open it, your eyes going wide. You were royalty back on Hoth but clearly not this royal. There’s more credits than you could possibly know what to do with inside.

“A-are you sure?” You manage to stammer out, you’re nervous just holding them.

“I mean if you’d like I can see if I can make it down to the vaults but it will take me much longer to get more, how much do-” You cut him off.

“Nevermind Leo. Thank you.” You give him a reassuring smile as you put the credits in your bag and dismiss him with a nod. You slip on a pair of riding boots before exiting the room yourself.

He looks different.

Scarier.

You clearly hadn’t been getting the full Mandalorian before because now there’s somehow more attachments. Ammunition. He’s shinier if that was somehow possible, like he polished his armor for this outing and he’s got a brown canvas bag thrown over his shoulder.

He looks like a proper killer.

Why does that send a rush of heat between your legs?

“Good morning, princess.” He gives you a curt nod.

So far so good.

“Good morning Mando. You look… nice.” You tilt your head slightly, getting a real eyeful of him before meeting his visor.

Okay this is a little more difficult than you thought it was going to be.

Of course it’s harder than you thought it’d be to have a conversation with someone you’ve had impulse hate sex with.

You just want things to be normal. Just friends. You can do this, this is what you wanted so you need to make it work, you will make it work.

“Are you ready?”

“Always.” He turns on his heel to start making his way down the hall and you swiftly follow.

“Will we be walking there?” You can’t stop smiling at the prospect of finally actually seeing other people.

“It’s a bit far for that. We’ll take a speeder.”

“Like a bike?” You can’t hide the excitement in your voice, as he lets out a low chuckle.

“No princess. I don’t think it would be proper for me to take you into the city on a speeder bike. We’ll be taking a landspeeder.” You try to hide your disappointment as he leads you through the twisting halls until you finally reach the familiar front gates. You’d only ever gone in through them when you arrived all those weeks ago. When you went to the garden you had taken back exits. Mando is already talking to a droid near the gate and you can’t catch what he’s saying but he comes back with two silver bands, holding one out to you. “Palace rules, if you’re leaving the grounds you’ve gotta wear it.” He easily clips his on as you fumble with the clasp on yours.

“What are they for?” You can’t help but bite your lip as you try to get the damn thing on before finally he takes your wrist and does it for you.

“Trackers.” He says it like he doesn’t like the taste of the word in his mouth but you choose to ignore it as he walks through the gate, scanning the bracelet as he does so, you follow his lead and then you’re outside. A light blue landspeeder is waiting for the two of you and you take his hand as he helps you get into the back seat before pulling himself up next to you. The driver nervously turns to stare at him but says nothing as he turns back around. “Solar Markets.” Is all Mando has to say in that stern, bounty hunter tone before you’re flying.

✩

It’s annoyingly beautiful.

You’d convinced yourself that Naboo was a place you had been condemned to but it’s stunning. It’s greener than you’d realized and you swear you hear Mando laugh at the awestruck look on your face.

He looks comfortable like this, leaning back, his arms spread out across the back of the seat. You must look like an over eager child the way your eyes keep darting around. You almost want to ask if you can keep riding around for a bit when the speeder stops.

Almost.

But the markets are much more enticing.

Alive and buzzing with people, there’s probably more people just on this street than there were in your entire colony back home. Mando helps you out of the speeder by lifting you up by your waist and once you’re on the ground you pull your hood back up. He leans down to whisper to you.

“No one is going to recognize you, it’s okay.” Is he smiling? It sounds like he’s smiling. You let the hood fall and run your fingers through your hair to try and brush the wind out of it. He holds his arm out and you briskly take it, clutching yourself close to him as he starts walking. It’s almost like a small path through the crowds clears whenever you walk and you immediately regret letting your hood down until you realize it’s not for you.

They’re scared of him.

People get quiet when you walk near them, they whisper, eyes start darting around frantically.

“I didn’t realize you had a reputation…” You mumble, leaning closer to him.

“Not me princess, my people in general. Don’t worry about it, it just means no one is going to mess with you.” He lets out a chuckle as he slows his pace.

“What are they saying about you?” You look warily around the crowds, holding on to Mando’s arm a little tighter.

He fidgets with something on his gauntlet and is silent for a few minutes as you walk before he fidgets with it again.

“Just your usual Mandaloian panic, mostly people worried about you.”

“Me?” You can’t help it when your voice goes up a pitch. It makes him chuckle softly.

“Some people are worried you're my prisoner.”

“Why would people think that?” You can’t help but look up at him in confusion.

“Usually we travel alone, or with other Mandalorians. Or people don’t see us at all, some people are just concerned that I’m holding you captive.” Why does he sound like he’s enjoying that fact?

“Well that’s annoying.” You scoff.

“So, what are we shopping for today?” He tilts the helmet down to look at you as you take in the dozens upon dozens of stands. It’s entirely possible that they will have quite literally anything you could ask for.

“I didn’t actually have anything in mind… can we just look around?”

“Of course.” Okay, he’s definitely smiling.

The two of you arm in arm walk through the first street of stalls. Nothing in particular catches your eye, it mostly seems like antiques and other such things, it must take well over an hour though and as he turns you down the next street you're hit with a wave of different smells as you start your trek through what you figure is the food stands. Your stomach lets out a small grumble since you skipped breakfast for this.

“Are you hungry? Can you eat if no one is looking?” You say softly, turning towards him.

“Someone is always looking. I’ll eat when we get back.”

You can’t help but frown. It passes quickly though as you get an idea. You keep your eyes peeled for a specific stand.

“You called this the Solar Markets earlier?” You say absentmindedly, still looking around.

“Yes. During the day they are called the Solar Markets, at night they do a quick turn around and then open the Lunar Markets.” He’s speaking so softly you can barely hear him and you wonder if he does it on purpose to keep up appearances of a stoic silent killer.

“Will we be able to stay for the Lunar Markets?” You turn to him hopefully and you hear the beginning of a laugh before the modulator cuts off. He takes a second before you hear the filter crackling back to life.

“No princess. I will have to find a way to sneak you out after hours to show you the Lunar Markets.” His voice is tinged with amusement.

“Why? Are they dangerous?” You instinctively squeeze his arm tighter.

“Not at all, we’re just going to have to make sure you don’t have a tracker on when we go, I’m sure I’d get in a lot of trouble if anyone found out you went, we’ll have to keep your hood up for that trip.” There’s a teasing tone to his voice that you don’t get.

“Are you going to tell me why or am I going to have to guess?”

“I think it will be better if it’s a surprise.” He whispers as he pats your arm gently. You’re about to interrogate him further but you see what you’re looking for and drop his arm, jogging up ahead to a stand, handing over what is definitely too many credits as you tell the Gungan running the stand to keep the change, Mando is right behind you when you turn around, you’ve got a big smile on your face.

“Don’t run off like that. Just because nobody knows you doesn’t mean you aren’t precious cargo.” His voice is stern but you don’t let it bother you as you hold up your purchase.

“Look what I got us.” You're beaming ear to ear. “It’s pear and some kind of spikey melon I didn’t recognize.” You hold the smoothie up towards his helmet and he tilts his head ever so slightly.

“Okay…?” He says it slowly like he’s being careful not to hurt your feelings.

“It has a straw! So you don’t have to take your helmet off.” You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world as you take a sip. It’s thick, and sweeter than you were expecting but it goes down smooth and you can’t stop smiling as you hold it out towards him.

“That’s very kind of you princess… but it might affect the presence I’m trying to put out if I’m walking around with a straw under my helmet.” He sounds serious as he says it which makes you lose the smile as you think again for a moment.

“Okay. I need to tell you something.” You take his hand and pull him just behind the stall, out of sight of most of the people.

“You’re confusing me princess.” He laughs softly. “What do you want to tell me?” He puts his hands on his hips and you hold a finger out to make a “come closer” motion.

“I have to whisper it.” He sighs as he leans down so his face is next to yours and your mouth is where his ear would be. “Release the airlock on your helmet.” You whisper it and he starts to pull back but you put your hands on his shoulders. “Please. Just for a second.” He lets out another exasperated sigh but after a moment you hear a hiss of air and you bite back a giggle as you bring the drink up between the two of you and shove the straw under the edge of his helmet, you use your body to shield him from anyone passing by. If anyone looked it would look like you were just whispering a secret to him. There’s a moment where you’re worried you’ve gone too far but then you hear a quiet slurping noise and you know you’ve won. After a moment he pulls back and you can see through the clear cup that he’s downed a solid quarter of it. The air hissed as he resealed his helmet.

“Happy?” He has a mock tone of defeat as you grin.

“Extremely.” You take his arm again and lead him back into the crowd as you sip at the drink lazily while you walk. “Did you like it?” You don’t bother concealing the satisfaction in your voice.

“It was a little sweet for me… but yes.”

“I knew you would. I’m always right.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself.”

“Do you come here at night to buy food or do you just get stuff from the castle?” As you speak you walk over to a pastry stand and drop a pile of credits into the young woman's hand as you take a few small cakes and cookies and put them into your bag, waving off the change again.

“I usually just eat ration packets back at my cabin.”

Full stop.

“Why aren’t you getting food from the kitchens?” You take a step in front of him, staring up into his visor with your arms crossed. You’d had ration packets plenty of times back on Hoth when they were unable to get cargo ships in. They were filling but honestly you’d found them gross most of the time. You didn’t like the idea of him relying solely on those when he had so many other options available to him.

“I never thought to do so. I’ve always just eaten rations packs.” He sounds almost bored with the conversation as you glare up at him. You want to scold him but you know he won’t listen so instead you make a mental note to pick up a few things while you’re here. You take his arm and start walking again. “Do you need anything else from this street or do you want to go to the next one?” He whispers it like he’s unsure if you’re mad at him.

“I’m done here, we can go to the next one.” You keep it light, not wanting anything to ruin this day as he brings you down the next street. This is easily the biggest, most crowded area. It seems like the majority of the vendors set up shop here and you’re having trouble focusing on any single stand as you start your slow trek. A particularly sharp burst of color catches your eye as you approach the stand. The Toydarian manning the shop seems nervous about Mando but you ignore it as you start searching through the plastic flowers.

“We have the gardens at home, why the hell do you need fake flowers?” His eyes are looking around the shelves as he speaks and you find the plastic lilies you were looking for.

“I had these growing up. I just want some for my room.” You can’t help but smile at the idea of having a piece of home back in your chambers, as you hand the shopkeep the credits you catch Mando also handing him some as he shoves something into his bag. You don’t ask because once you leave another stand has already caught your eye.

“Oh no. You’re not getting that.” He’s groaning as you run up to the droid selling vibroblades.

“Come on, they’re all so small I won’t be able to do much damage with one anyway.” You’re peeking through the display case at the knives, settling on a simple dainty one, it’s entirely silver, handle and blade. The droid retrieves it the moment you point it out and you hand him the credits as you put it into the sheath provided before shoving it into your bag.

“Why do you even need that? You have me to protect you.” He puts a hand on his hip but you just take his arm and push him to keep him walking.

“Just for emergencies. Don’t worry about it.” He sighs as you keep walking.

“What emergency? You have a state of the art locking system on your door and a state of the art bodyguard.” He sounds almost offended and you burst into laughter.

“Please don’t tell me you’re jealous of a knife.” You can hear a little huff of air coming from the modulator.

“No.” There’s that bounty hunter voice.

“Oh come on, don’t be jealous, I promise I like you more than the blade.” You poke his pauldron as you tease him.

“I’m not jealous.” He scoffs out.

“Just making sure.”

✩

You spend the rest of the day in the third street of the market. It’s massive, you don’t even get a chance to see every stand. You aren’t even sure you’ve seen half of them. Around midday you take out one of the little cakes you’d bought and eat it, offering him half but of course he declines. You buy a lovely crystal vase for your faux flowers, a few other little snacks you find and several bowls with sealable lids. You’re sure that purchase has Mando raising an eyebrow but he doesn’t say anything.

You’re exhausted by the time the sun is lowering in the sky but you don’t want this day to end. You can tell he’s about to call it as you see a stand that catches your eye and you drag him along to it, you can feel a slight resistance as he realizes where you’re dragging him but it’s too late because you’re already talking to the woman folding fabrics at the entrance.

“Do you by any chance have other wares I could peruse in the back?” You give her a smile as she looks warily between you and the Mandalorian before nodding and taking your hand. He starts to follow but you put a hand against his chestplate.

“You’re not going anywhere without me.” His tone has gotten all stiff and bounty hunter serious as he gently takes your wrist and removes your hand.

“I’m trying on clothes. You need to wait outside.”

It’s way too tense for such a simple request. You can feel the shopkeep trembling behind you but you don’t drop the glare you’ve got trained on his visor. You don’t know how long you stand like that. Scowling at each other. Definitely too long but eventually he sighs and takes a step back.

“Ten minutes. If you don’t come out, I’m going in.” He points a warning finger at you but plants his feet and you know he’ll stay put as you give him a big grin before following the woman into the back.

It’s exactly what you thought it would be.

A lot of the stuff was classier out front but you knew there would most likely be skimpier options where the public couldn’t see them. You started looking through the shelves of lace and silk. You’re only doing so for a moment before the woman is clearing her throat.

“Are you okay, miss?” Her voice is small and timid as she looks over her shoulder anxiously. You raise an eyebrow in confusion.

“Yes…? Why do you ask?” You look away from the woman as you find a shelf exclusively containing green fabrics. Jackpot.

“It’s just, I don’t mean to intrude but- but I’ve never seen a…” She leans in to whisper. “A Mandalorian traveling with someone before. I just want to make sure you aren’t being held against your will. Such a pretty young woman, accompanying such a dangerous man.”

Oh.

Well you should have seen that coming. You give her a reassuring smile. You want to be offended on his behalf but maybe you just didn’t truly grasp how afraid people were of him.

“I’m perfectly safe ma’am, he’s my friend.” She nods slowly, seemingly satisfied with your answer as you hold up a particularly revealing piece. A satiny green two piece set. They could probably pass as pajamas if the bottoms weren’t practically just panties. You put it over your arm as you look for something a little more racy. “Is this everything?” You turn to look at her again.

“No miss, but we don’t bring out what I think you’re looking for until after sundown.”

Oh. That’s why you weren’t staying for the Lunar Market.

“Ah, okay. I’ll be sure to come back for that at some point. Thank you so much for being so accommodating” You hand her half of your remaining credits and her jaw is practically on the floor as you make a swift exit, shoving the clothes into your bag. Finding Mando just outside. He’s in nearly the same position except now he has a small bag in his hands. You pay it no mind as you go to take his arm.

But you miss it completely as someone grabs your other arm pulling you in the opposite direction.

“I haven’t seen you around here before, are you new in town?” It’s a human man with long black hair, he’s got welding goggles strapped to his head. You try as gently as possible to shove him off.

“No, I’ve lived here for some time now, and I should be getting back to my friend…” You’re about to point to Mando hoping that would scare him off but the man is putting a hand around your waist and starts walking you down the street.

“Oh come on sweet thing, why don’t we just walk for a little bit, maybe you can show me what you bought from that stand.” You can hear his hot breath against your neck as he leans closer and you’re about to reach for the blade in your bag but you don’t get too because he’s already on the ground.

You don’t have anytime to realize what’s going on until it’s already happening.

“ Give me a reason to do it. ” Mando’s already on top of him, blaster pressed to the bottom of the man's jaw. His voice sends a chill down your spine, if you thought that the stern tone he used on most strangers was his bounty hunter voice you were horribly wrong. This was his bounty hunter voice. When the man didn’t respond you watched as the barrel of the blaster pushed a hair deeper into the man's skin.

You should probably unpack at some point why you find this so attractive.

Maker, would it be inappropriate to ask him to recreate this later in your chambers?

You don’t register what the man mumbles as Mando reholsters his blaster. Standing up and facing you. You do happen to catch the next words the man mutters as he gets to his feet, unlucky for him Mando catches the words as well.

“Have a good night with your whore, jackass.”

The crack of the punch is so loud, you’re absolutely certain that Mando broke his jaw. The man drops to the ground in an instant and your Beskar companion simply shakes his hand out once before offering you his arm again. You take it as you try to avoid looking at the crumpled body of the man.

Stars, you don’t know if you’ve ever been this attracted to someone.

As a friend. Obviously.

“You get everything you need?” He says as he starts backtracking you down the market street. He’s alarmingly casual.

“Yes. I’m ready to go now.” You give him a nervous smile as you walk, trying to enjoy the sun setting on everything.

It’s hard not to talk about it.

But it’s probably for the best all things considered, if you start reliving that memory, who knows how long you’ll be able to resist dragging the Mandalorian into an alley and getting on your knees.

On your way out you tell him you want to stop and grab some things for dinner, if he notices you buying more food than you could possibly eat he doesn’t mention it. He doesn’t even say anything when you make him carry it. It’s a quick ride back to the castle and you can feel the exhaustion taking its toll as he walks you up to your chambers. Leo is waiting for you in the hall to take your tracker bands, Mando mumbles something about losing his but you pay him no mind as you hand Leo yours, telling him to inform the girls that you won’t need them, they can have the night off, and with that he departs. Mando helps you into your room and helps you set your things onto the bed.

“Did you have a good day?” He’s gentle again. Nothing like his tone when you were in public. It makes you smile, like he saves it just for you.

“I did. Thank you, for everything.”

“So you aren’t stressed?” He doesn’t look up, he’s setting a few of the bowls you’d bought out on the bed.

“No not at all, why? If you’re worried about the guy, don’t be I didn’t even have a second to process what was happening…” Your voice trails off as you realize why he was asking.

You idiot.

This is Purely Stress Relief.

Your rule.

You want to take it back immediately but he’s already standing up straighter, and you know you’ve already missed your chance.

“Do you need anything else or should I leave?” He says it with the same tone of disappointment that you currently feel.

Damn it.

You stupid, stupid woman, less than an hour ago you were gonna jump his bones in the street and now that you’ve got him alone you just blew your chance to… well, blow him .

Whatever. It’s for the best. It would be weird to have a really great day out together and then come home and have sex anyway. That’s something a couple would do. And that’s not what this arrangement is. But you can’t let him leave without executing your master plan.

You start opening the food containers and scoop half of everything into the bowls, sealing all of them before rummaging through your bag for one of the little cakes, setting it on top of the three sealed bowls, stacking them.

“Here.” You hold it all out to him and he just stands there for a moment.

“You don’t have to-” The voice that comes out of the filter almost sounds small.

“I know I don’t have to. Now take it, I’m ordering you to go home and eat actual food.” You shove it into his arms and he starts carefully tucking it into his bag.

“You don’t have the authority to order me to do anyth-”

“Shut up. For once, about that.” You give him a stern look and you both stand awkwardly across from each other. You aren’t really sure what he’s waiting for but finally he reaches into his satchel and hands you the small bag he had been holding earlier.

“I bought this for you earlier while you were trying on clothes. It made me think of you.” He doesn’t even give you a second to say thank you before he’s out of the room, closing the door gently behind him. You stand there dumbfounded for a moment before you open the bag, looking down at the contents.

You reach in and hold the necklace in front of your face so you can get a good look.

It’s a simple leather cord but what really catches your eye is the tiny charm. It’s a little silver outline of a flower hanging from the band. A little flower.

Sarad’ika.

You’re glad he didn’t linger to watch you open it because you have to hold back tears.

Even though he didn’t stay you can’t help but smile as you started nodding off. Closing the food containers before grabbing a few things, retreating to the closet. You lay down in your nest of blankets, setting your book down next to you as you stare down at the charm in the palm of your hand. You don’t think you ever had a day this fun even back on Hoth. No one had ever put this much thought into a gift for you. No one had ever defended you like that before either, he had even drunk what you offered him… Your fingers played with the small silver charm as you carefully tucked the necklace between the pages of The Smitten Paladin.

It was probably the most lovely day you’d ever had.

A specific scrawled line of text catches your eyes as they dart to the rules scrawled against the back inside cover and you slam the book shut, shoving it into your pillowcase for safekeeping.

No Romance.

Fuck.

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darkhymns-fic · 2 months

Text

A Lovely Way to Spend an Evening

Husk used to like dancing, once upon a time.

Amazing how certain people can ruin such things for you.

Fandom: Hazbin Hotel Characters: Alastor/Husk, Charlie Morningstar, Angel Dust Rating: M Word Count: 4421 Mirror: AO3 Notes: I caved in and wrote fic for the funny swearing cartoon. Please note that this story contains depictions of abuse and power dynamics, as well as implications of violence. More tags are listed on the AO3 mirror. Grumpy cat man does not have a good time here (or even a choice).

Husk raised an eyebrow as he processed the information that was passed to him. (No, he couldn’t have heard that right.)

He was still cleaning up a shot glass with a less-than-clean rag, but his movements slowed, keeping his eyes level with the princess of Hell who stood in front of his bar. The eerie glow of the wooden walls fell over her hair, coating it in a green sheen that reminded him of poison dripping down the strands. A bitter but familiar taste settled on his tongue.

“…A dance party?” he finally asked her.

“Yes! For everyone in the hotel! There’s gonna be balloons and camaraderie and so much music!” Charlie was bouncing up and down on her toes. If she got any more excited, she’d probably jump straight up through the roof. Not like it would’ve been the first construction hazard the hotel had, or even the last. “It was Alastor’s idea! He said it would be a really good morale booster!”

Not a whisker twitched on Husk’s face, but he could feel the cracks in the glass forming underneath his hand. Another one for the dustbin. “Of course it was.”

Too low for Charlie to hear him, not that he wanted her to. She was riding on cloud nine, which was an achievement for a Hell-born denizen. “I just gotta get all the decorations set up! Oh! And Alastor told me to invite you specifically! It’s going to be so much fun!”

Thankfully, Charlie turned away then—to check up on all those decorations, the bright balloons, and streamers, and what looked like a disco ball (?) up top that was just gonna break the beams of this shack of a building. Because by then, the glass Husk was holding had shattered to pieces.

With a growl, he picked away at the shards embedded in his fur, one by one. Just a few of them were stained in blood, their color gaining a sickly green hue from the glow of the bar.

What a painful way to start the night.

Before anyone had even hit the dance floor, Husk was already shit-faced. But he wasn’t blackout drunk, and right now, that was his ultimate goal. Cheap booze was hardly good for anything else.

He could barely care whatever music was playing—but by the way Charlie was twirling and shaking her arms like an excitable chicken, it must have been some of that new pop stuff Husk never took much of a liking to. Much of the scene was a blur to him, still staying put behind his bar, hoping to be forgotten for his boss’ new…interest.

(Awful to think, but some men craving for freedom, for anything, become desperate. He knew this too well.)

Alastor was doing all he could to encourage the princess with a bleeding heart; holding up his mic to comment on her dancing techniques, to cue applause at just the right moment, always telling her the same thing. “Wonderful! Just a wonderful performance!”

Even so, one could barely call this much of a party. Hazbin Hotel’s guests were so few—still only two total—but that Sir Pentious was also doing some of the dorkiest moves Husk had ever seen, and still falling face-first on the floor despite having no legs to trip over to begin with. Somehow, Angel Dust’s moves weren’t as X-rated as Husk would have expected on any other day. Instead, the guy was lending a pair of hands to Niffty, letting her lead yet still somehow controlling her rabid movements to pull him across the floor, also avoiding any sudden bites she would randomly decide to do.

There were times, also, when he would see Alastor reach out a hand to Charlie. He’d lean on his cane, mouth close to the mic head, humming a little ditty reminiscent of the jazz lounges back when their bodies weren’t made of fur and weird demon magic. It wouldn’t be the first time Alastor danced with the princess, but then an arm would reach out, safely guiding Charlie away from him.

Surprising that the same arm lacked a spear in it, one with a suspicious glint to it that Husk recognized but bit his tongue from ever mentioning. Vaggie’s one eye burned brighter than most firepits, and Charlie, innocent soul that she was, thought her girlfriend was just impatient for another close dance.

“Aw, Vaggie! Did you wanna try the Lindy Hop together?”

Another glare, her and the red demon’s staring contest looking ludicrous underneath the shifting lights of the spinning ball overhead. “Yeah, sure thing, hun.” And then she broke from that gaze, her expression changing to softness as she looked at Charlie in the blink of an eye and just that. It must have been love, not that Husk knew anything about it anymore. “I’ll follow your lead, if that’s okay.”

Alastor kept his smile as they both moved away, slowly pulling back his hand as his fingers curled. But a close listener could hear the static, garbling slowly in a crescendo. No, his boss didn’t like being denied his playthings.

And if he wasn’t being entertained this very second, then he’d—

“Hey, ya gonna join us? This dance party’s not half bad.” Angel Dust leaned on the bar, grinning as he took his usual seat. He hid it well, but Husk noted how his chest shifted with his heavy breathing, using his second right arm to discreetly wipe away the sweat from the fluff. It took all one had to keep up with Niffty, even from a guy who claimed to have amazing stamina.

Crossing one leg over the other, Angel kept up his smile, but it lacked the biting veneer from other times. An honesty that could be seen, even with Husk’s somewhat blurry sight. “I mean,” Angel continued. “If ya feel like sucking off that bottle instead of something with a little more taste.”

Husk didn’t take offense to such jokes anymore (just for show, which he also knew all too well) but he still didn’t move. This was the closest to safety he got. Besides, the bottle wasn’t even empty yet. “Nah, got two left feet. Wouldn’t work out.”

At that, Angel Dust laughed. “Didn’t stop our slithery friend over there! Or even Niffty! Though, uh…”

A quick look from them both showed the tiny Niffty now crawling along the walls, heading for the disco ball and then clamping it tightly with her entire body.

“Yeah,” Angel nodded. “Think she’s got the hang of it now.”

Husk shrugged. He slid a glass to Angel that was half-full, a motion he could still do even with slightly trembling hands. “Don’t let me tie you down, kid. I’ve seen your moves.” He allowed himself a smile, one he could say he even felt.

Angel took the drink, one that could barely buzz a chihuahua, and gave Husk a smile back just as he stood up. All limbs, and a smile that hid back its usual gleam for fatigued eyes. “Alright, but if you change your mind, I bet I could teach you how to move it.”

Husk could barely count the minutes since Angel left and the party continued. The soundtrack for the dance eventually changed from the generic pop to a swing number—one that Husk could probably mouth the words to if he still had any hope inside him. And sometimes, he did feel it. Staying in this hotel was misery at first until the faces became more familiar, more concerned, and less like the eyes of something that hunted and searched for that moment of weakness.

The music was as grainy as his vision, so heavily textured and straining on the ears that he kept trying to pick it up, even as it changed. The vocals. The soft melancholic chorus in the background. It lacked the instruments of the previous songs. Weird choice for a dance. So much did he focus on it, all while holding a whiskey bottle with both hands because now he wanted some of the good stuff. He stared into the warped glass as he listened for so long that he forgot how there was no safe place for him. Just for a moment, but that was all it took.

A shadow fell over the bar. Over him. He knew who it was. Husk tipped the bottle to his lips and took long, long drink.

“Husker! My dear friend, didn’t you get my invite?”

It was a while before he answered. He slammed the bottle onto the mahogany surface, twisted his lips. Already empty, he needed another. “Yeah, I did. What about it?” Whiskey made him braver, but also careless. “Gotta keep serving the guests, don’t I?”

He heard the familiar chuckle, frizzled and slightly skipping, as if the vinyl had been scratched. “While it is good to see you still keeping to your deal, you have to understand it’s rude to RSVP and then not show.”

He wrenched the cork from his new bottle; wine this time, because this felt like as good of a time to switching things up as any. He watched the mist curl from the opening with all the fascination of a man pointedly avoiding the signals around him. “I am here to anyone that’s got eyes. Besides, I never promised Charlie I would actually dance.”

“Oh? You saying our little princess is a fibber?”

“I’m saying you only hear what you want. All the damn fucking time!” A hard grip, and then, he made the mistake of raising his head to see. (Never look into his eyes, you fool.) “Why don’t you take your dumbass musical project and just shove it along with that stupid mic of yours?! At least then I can just—”

Something tugged him forward. Cold yet hot at the same time, just around his neck and clenched tight. He gripped the bar, claws digging in to keep himself from slamming his forehead into the wood.

Suddenly, his vision was crystal-clear.

The eyes burned into his. Red as the fiery sun over the sea, as the freshly split blood over a forest floor. A grin that was impossibly wide for a living thing, but neither of them were alive anymore, so all he could do was wait for when those same fangs would bite down on something else other than pride. Strange, twisting shapes curled from behind, appearing from behind the Radio Demon, like some demented crown of thorns.

“Silly Husker. That wasn’t a request and you know it.”

Oh, he knew it.

In the chaotic lighting of the room, from that fucking stupid disco ball, to the blinding streamers and balloons, and even a few rave sticks Husk caught Sir Pentious waving around, no one would notice the subtle green of the chains. How they burned into Husk’s neck, rubbing it raw until the fur would fall off, leaving him bruised beneath.

He shook again, keeping himself upright as much as he could. All to not be humiliated again, and this time in front a crowd. They would hate seeing him that way. They would demand Alastor to stop.

But the crushing indignity was too much to endure that.

“Fine,” he hissed out. “Do whatever you want.”

“Why, gladly!”

The chain vanished. Husk was left gasping, his fingers pressed against his throat to feel for any mark. (Just his property and nothing else). But he saw the hand now held out to him, palm facing upward. Those seemingly delicate fingers moved back and forth, and there was the familiar static, the usual dead air, but also…if one could turn the dial just so, the faint cacophony of screams that echoed in the distance, only to be drowned out by grainy noise.

“Shall we dance, dear Husker?”

Any choice he had once, he’d already made a while back.

Husk said nothing as he slid his hand into the other’s, claws carefully dulled to not scratch. He was practically pulled over the bar, his wings flapping in surprise. Red and black feathers circled around them both, and then he was tugged in close, looking up at the man with the smile that had now considerably shrunk—to look charming, almost. But always sharp and ready to bite.

“Now look lively, my dear. It’s as if your feet are encased in cement!”

The voice slid through his chest, like poison once more, carefully given to him in small doses over the years. A hand placed itself at the small of his back, his feet nearly lifted off the floor. An arm kept his wings closed in, so that they couldn’t stretch, like a straight-jacket forcibly put on him. Those wings were one of the few things he even liked about his form here in Hell, even if he sometimes found them to be an eyesore. But nothing else now could catch him from falling.

Nowhere to stabilize himself except in Alastor’s arms.

Anything to make him feel helpless. Vulnerable. Nothing more than a pet.

That’s all he was to him.

Alastor leaned in slightly, moving Husk’s free hand to clasp onto the taller demon’s shoulder. Husk sighed, but he followed through. Resigned. Better to be led through and survive the night without much damage. (Why even fight it?)

Just barely on his toes, and feeling the sharp nails dig just against his fur, they started their dance across the floor.

This wasn’t the first time they did this.

It was easy to fall into the motions. The thing that Husk had to begrudgingly admit was that Alastor was a pretty good dancer. He moved his feet with a grace that could be easily followed, and Husk did so. The trail of a footstep following the other, their hands joined together, leading him to the right or left with barely a pull. And with the grip behind his back, fingers circling into his fur, making Husk swallow hard.

Eyes started to follow them now, even with the awful-as-fuck lighting. He caught a glance of Niffty to the side, how she stopped trying to gnaw on Sir Pentious’ tail as she stared gleefully at her boss and co-worker getting close on the dance floor. He could hear Charlie make her excited little noises of happiness, commenting on just how sweet it was to see them demonstrate to everyone how to dance. Yeah. Sure. Anything to keep the princess oblivious to the rot beneath. At least Husk was sure Vaggie wouldn’t explain much more.

Maybe, just maybe, he thought he saw Angel Dust in the far back. Hard to tell, because the effects of all his drinking were slowly making its way back, his fear replaced by numbness. But seeing Angel’s expression, it wasn’t pity. It was an understanding between two losers at the bottom of the barrel, witness to another form of degradation. Sold souls that could do nothing else but share the pain from across the room.

And then he couldn’t see Angel anymore. Because Alastor suddenly dipped him, so low to the ground that Husk found himself clinging tighter to the demon. His fur stood on end, his hat dangerously close to falling off. But Alastor leaned in close, his sharp teeth just at Husk’s ear, his breath parting the fur as gentle as a caress.

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening. Can’t think of anything I’d rather do.”

Husk widened his eyes. The music playing in the room, its echoes finally reaching his drunken skull. Oh, this absolute fucker.

The guy’s face really was made for radio.

Alastor lifted him up again, twirled him with barely a thought for Husk, who could have vomited from motion sickness. Wings flapped open, desperate for freedom, only to be closed in again by Alastor bringing Husk close. Another lean, and the song played again, closer, on the speaker that was Alastor’s mouth, with a voice that wasn’t his but that age-old recording.

“A casual stroll through a garden, and a kiss by a lazy lagoon.” Alastor’s grin could be felt against Husk, and how so often was he told how soft his fur was, to touch and play with. “Catching a breath of moonlight. Humming our favorite tune.”

Husk bristled. His claws bent inwards, so close to Alastor’s neck. It would be easy to at least draw blood, right in front of everyone, to show that this demon, horrifying as he was, can still be wounded despite it all.

Except, Husk had already tried that once. Back when the deal had still been fresh.

Alastor turned to face him, his smile so manic, so very daring.

Husk did nothing, instead continuing to listen to the song that Alastor played, dictating their movements. The same song that Husk remembered hearing on the radio so many years ago.

“I want to save all my nights and spend them with you. I love spending all with you…”

It felt like centuries before the party was finally over.

Husk could barely stand to be back behind his bar, let alone in the hotel lobby. The balloons, which half were already deflated, were a fucking eyesore and that damn ball up top or whatever did eventually fall—on Sir Pentious. But if the guy could survive an attack from the Radio Demon absolutely demolishing his ship and half of his egg boys, then it was clear the snake was indestructible.

Maybe Husk was a bit jealous.

He didn’t want to deal with seeing anyone, even when Alastor, finally, finally let him go. Still, their clasped hands lingered, and Alastor leaned down as if to kiss his knuckles, Husk frozen in place at the very thought. And then, fingers laxed in their hold, allowing Husk to pull back, his fur on end and his wings frazzled, the feathers out of place.

The song had long stopped playing but still he heard it, deep in his skull, as if someone had shoved a phonograph there, the horn of it directed right inside his ear.

A quick exit, before anyone could reach him. Hypocritical maybe, but he didn’t feel like voicing his troubles right now. Not when it just fucking happened right in front of everyone, with only one of them even getting a hint of what it was all about.

Alastor and his stupid games.

But even when Husk retreated to this room, he could barely relax. The room was just one in a hundred in this empty hotel, but one that Charlie had been so happy to lead him to that first time. She had pointed to each pillow on the bed and even to all the little mints that were stacked on top. She had even been hyped for the shaded lamps on the bedside table, despite the bulbs long weakening. Overkill, like much of what she did. But earnest, and genuine, and one that truly did see the good in everyone despite how each sinner had earned their keep here.

A complete difference from the Radio Demon that had just materialized at his side, a whisper of a soft, nostalgic melody his only warning.

“Oh, Husker. I didn’t peg you to be an early sleeper.”

Followed immediately by the door slamming shut.

Husk didn’t dare turn. Not yet, not until he reached for the cards in his pocket. They could be as sharp as knives, as strong as wire. He was drunk, and tired, and maybe he was past his limit at having himself played around with in front of everyone like it was all just normal.

But, before he could even pull back his arm, something held him in place. A blink. The lamp in his room flickered, and he caught the antlered shadow on his left wall, grabbing at his own. Of fucking course.

“Bad kitty! And after I let you keep your little toys.”

A quick squeeze and Husk sucked air through his teeth, dropping a flurry of his cards to the carpet. Then a violent turn, and the manacle appeared once more around his neck, the sickening green creating valleys and crevices all over Alastor’s grinning face.

Still, that godforsaken melody kept playing.

Then a pull.

Husk choked. He reached for the links, clung to it, even as they burned off his fur. His wings stretched wide, flapped once and then twice. All he could do to keep his ground.

Alastor leaned his head to the side at a painful angle—unclear if he even felt anything while doing so, or maybe he did because he could, relishing the crack of bone and the rupture of blood vessels. All while he held onto Husk’s leash, keeping it taut.

It wasn’t enough to make Husk shut up.

“You fucking psychopath. What more do you even want from me? I already danced with you! I even let you just… touch me like…” Husk could barely speak, but he glared at the Radio Demon with all the rage and humiliation he felt deep within whatever he had left of his soul. “I know you get off to this shit!”

The demon leaned in close. The sight of it was compressing, losing full shape, covered over with black marks and strange symbols that he had never understood. Antlers grew and took shape, their sharp points reaching out to Husk like an embrace. But, they stopped just short of his face, just over his eyes, making him terrified to even blink.

In corrupted static, the music garbled and off-key, Alastor whispered. “And so do you.”

Husk’s grip on the chain loosened. He gritted his teeth. Fuck. This was it. He was going to die, with his agony broadcasted all over Hell.

Another quick pull, and Husk lost his grip completely. The shadow from behind him had grasped at his wings, stinging in the pain as tendons snapped like twine, and suddenly he couldn’t extend them anymore. Another avenue of possible escape, already taken away from him.

Then he was pulled forward again to the real Alastor, a hand grasping his own, fingers interlaced. Husk trembled. Would the Radio Demon start by breaking his hands, going through each limb slowly until he couldn’t even move anymore?

Alastor pulled taut on the chain once more, straining the metal. But they would never break, no matter how much Husk wished for it. It was close to his face, and he wondered if Alastor was going to bound and gag him, burn off his tongue, so that his screams would have no words.

That is not what happened.

Instead, Alastor took the chain and wrapped it carefully, almost delicately around their clasped hands. Husk grimaced at the touch, burning yet freezing all at once. Alastor showed change in emotion at all. Still smiling wide, the antlers retracted back like tentacles. The discordant melody shifted back to harmonious, no longer warped and out of tune. The record played, undisturbed.

Husk blinked. His eyes moved to their hands, tied together by the chain, before going back to Alastor. “What…are you doing?”

A hand reached for his back, pulled him close until his nose was pressed against the front of Alastor’s suit. A finger pushed against a suspender in what could have been seen as playful, and a thumb rubbed circles into the fur, searching for the skin beneath.

“You’re just lovely when you dance,” Alastor said so softly, just against his ear. The teeth nipped just so slightly, tugging at his fur, at him. Husk shook, and he wasn’t sure if it was entirely from fear. “And the night is still so young.”

His wings still ached from the sudden clipping of his feathers, and his hand was half-burned from the links pressed against his fur. Even so, he didn’t step back. He felt his feet just almost leave the floor, their bodies pushed even closer than before in the hotel lobby.

He didn’t say anything. It wouldn’t have mattered anyway.

And he even used to like dancing, once upon a time.

Husk’s body felt like a rag doll, pushed and pulled to go wherever his owner wanted. The chain kept them bound, even if it was already connected to his neck. In the quiet of his room, they slow danced to what had once been one of Husk’s favorite songs as it played in its vintage soundscape.

It was nothing new at all. In fact, it was very much the usual. The playing of an old ballad or a jazz rendition when Alastor was near him. The subtle brushing of knuckles against his own when walking by. A quick pat over his head. A tug of his ears, done so lightly that Husk sometimes wondered if it was imagination. A patting of the shoulder, the hand lingering just a moment too long. A finger rushing down his side. Even a delicate pull of his tail. After all, Alastor would tell him, it was just so very soft.

Husk had pushed back at first. He had groused and cursed, hating to be ridiculed. He still did so now, like the fucking genius that he was, the current pain in his wings reminding him with glee.

Sometimes, Alastor would laugh and be on his way. Other times, not so much.

Husk forgot that he couldn’t pick his battles—for there was none he could win.

He gritted his teeth, letting his body be swayed, shivering at the hot breaths along his neck. The dim lights of his room swam in his vision, and soon, he was falling more against Alastor, pulled in by warmth that could turn scalding at any moment.

(Perhaps dancing was what cured the loneliness, in a way. He really was pathetic.)

He looked to their joined hands, engulfed in green that seemed all encompassing. Then he stepped in something wet, tracking it in the carpet. Too apathetic to the thought that they were dancing out patterns with his own blood.

“This is a lovely way to spend an evening,” sang Alastor, in that same recorded voice. But also, Husk could hear Alastor’s own, as if the demon was singing along in his own private booth for his loyal listeners. “Can't think of anything I'd rather do.”

Husk breathed carefully, letting himself fall quiet. When he made his deal, he was never promised he’d understand the Radio Demon or his motivations. He knew, in the end, that he didn’t want to anyway.

The night blurred, until the pain had all but numbed, and their song was all he could hear.

#hazbin hotel #alastor #husk #radiohusk #fanfiction #one shot

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kordyceps · 3 months

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OK I mean obviously I'm reading your steter stuff on AO3 but I'd love to know if you have an all time favourite? Either your fave of your own work, or fave of another author's that you rec/reread/still think about a million years later (or both lol)

Oh man, okay, sorry for taking so long to reply to this ask! But it's such a good one and I unfortunately have the memory of a gold fish, so I needed to do Research™ (aka reread all my favs again lmao) so I could answer it properly. 😂

I only have one Steter fic of my own atm, so I guess that's my de facto personal fav for now…

But as for other folks' work, god, there are sooooo many great Steter fics out there!! So these are just a handful of my top favs, and definitely not a comprehensive list!

Five Times Peter and Stiles Troll the Pack by taylorpotato Rating: M | 2.5k | requires an AO3 account to read Stiles and Peter yell at each other in Polish, misleading the pack into think they're fighting, when in reality it's all just like completely fuckin' filthy dirty talk lmao. Short, but very funny, and such a perfect capture of their mischievous dynamic. 10/10, would recommend!

The Devil You Know by Twisted_Mind Rating: E | 11.6k Peter is there for Stiles when no one else is, and uses that to slowly manipulate his way into earning Stiles' explicit trust. And ooooh boy, is it so delicious and spicy. God damn! Cards on the table: this fic definitely won't be for everyone since it wades into some darker waters. But oh my god do I love love LOVE Peter's characterization in it. God, I feel like I could write a whole damn essay about this fic, but then I'd just end up spoiling the whole thing LOL. Just--if you like darker, manipulative Peter and enjoy your sweetness just a wee bit twisted, then 10/10 would recommend!

The Prince and the Pease by luulapants Rating: E | 47k | requires an AO3 account to read Medieval/Royalty AU where Peter is forced to cede his claim to the throne and become a "guest" of King Deucalion's as part of a peace treaty between the two kingdoms. Stiles, who is suspiciously far too mouthy for your average servant, is gifted to Peter as a bedwarmer. This one does such an incredible, masterful job at translating the characters into its setting and time period. The sass, the wit, the wordplay! You can definitely tell the author knows their shit, and my god is it fantastic. The plot itself is also so satisfying -- lots of great ups and downs, and, ugh, just so good! (Be sure to read p2 for the full ending btw!) Needless to say, 10/10, would recommend!

Keeping him (It's all about intent) by sittinginmytincan Rating: M (& E for oneshot sequel) | 121k Stiles winds up slingshotted into his own future, where it turns out he's married to Peter Hale of all people. His only way back is with Lydia's help, but she's gone mysteriously missing somewhere on the east coast while investigating some strange disappearances. Man, this fic….. I feel like the writer for this one must have received a checklist of things I'm into and decided to mark nearly every single one of them lol. Time travel, woke up married, magical theory, an enthralling af plotline -- and it's so thorough. Like, everything is so incredibly well thought out, the characterization is on point, and the development of Stiles and Peter's relationship is just chef kiss. Definitely 10/10, would recommend!

The Striking Complication by aurevell Rating: T | 118k I don't even want to write a summary up for this one because the mystery of it all and peeling back what's happening piece by piece is, imo, the best way to experience it. This story is intense as fuck, near relentlessly oppressive, and impossible to put down. It keeps you constantly at the edge of your seat as you try to figure out what is going on and how Peter and Stiles will survive it, with these heart-wrenchingly sweet breather moments sprinkled throughout. If you enjoy time loop stories, this one is an absolute must read! 10/10, would recommend!

build-a-beau by veterization Rating: E | 41.5k Tired of his dad always worrying about him being single, Stiles decides to pay for a fake boyfriend service so he can finally get his pops off his back about it. It goes about as well as one can expect a fake texting boyfriend you accidentally catch real feelings for can go lmao. This fic is wonderfully witty, with really fantastic banter between the two of them, and it's just so very fun getting to watch the pretend part of their exchanges slip more and more into something genuine. 10/10, would recommend!

Under the Songbird's Wing by mia6363 Raing: E | 87k Stiles is captured and held in captivity alongside Peter, Deucalion, and Satomi Ito. To survive, Stiles runs through lacrosse drills and tells stories, eventually persuading his fellow cellmates out of their shells and establishing a profound, unbreakable bond between them. This one is HEAVY, folks. Like, heavy heavy. But, god, it's also such a beautiful exploration of the characters and the bonds they develop through shared captivity. I don't even know what more to say, really, it's just haunting and lovely and awful and wonderful all at once. In the mood for something that hurts? Then 10/10, would recommend!

#yes ALL of these are 10/10 would recommend!!! 👏😤#steter #fic recs #I may have gone overboard with this lmao #but I just!!!! love steter and these fics so much and I had to gush about every single one!!!!#and there is definitely no way I could have picked just one #teen wolf #asks #dre606

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iamtheholyghost · 7 months

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My Rebecca Welton x Reader fic is finished!

AO3 link here.

Title: I could do the shit that he never did

Rating: Explicit, NSFW, 18+ ⚠️

Summary: The sun rays hit Rebecca's skin as you both lay in her bed. You watched her gently breathing and the beautiful glow on her skin.

Rebecca pulled you into a kiss and you moaned when her hand slid between your legs. You arched your back and your hand gripped her neck while the other held on to her shoulder.

The after effects of the alcohol still lingered and you reached over to grab the glass of water on the side table. The sun rays hit Rebecca's skin as you both lay in her bed. You watched her gently breathing and the beautiful glow on her skin.You gently played with her hair and shuffled closer to her warmth. She stretched out and wrapped her arm around your hip. Rebecca's phone buzzed on her bedside table and she grumbled reaching over to grab it.

"Aw fuck," she said sitting up.

"What's wrong?"

She showed the caller id which read "Keeley" you laughed.

"She set us up and it fucking worked," you chuckled.

"I don't like giving her the satisfaction," Rebecca smirked.

"I'm gonna find my clothes and make up an excuse to work as to why I'm not in the office again," Rebecca smiled in response and stroked your back before you left her bed.

"But you're not working til Monday?"

"Yeah it's to prepare them, I'd rather extend my stay here than go home," You arched your brow and smirked. Rebecca gave you a cheeky grin then focused on her phone.

You heard Keeley's screeching down the phone and laughed. Rebecca of course told her you spent the night. She screeched again and then Rebecca just sighed and said “yes.”

You gathered your clothes and gave your boss a text saying you'd be working from home on Monday. You tossed your phone onto the side table and placed your clothes neatly where you'd find them. You didn't want to get dressed yet. You enjoyed the fact that you and Rebecca were both completely naked, lipstick marks and bites were dotted over your pale skin. Rebecca had some marks on her shoulders and on her chest. You wished you remembered last night more vividly, rather than the random flashbacks.

Rebecca put her phone under her pillow and sighed. You laughed and straddled her, her slender hands slid up and down your waist.

"I say we don't give a shit what people say and we finish what we started last night,"you said in between kisses across her neck.

'Ha, I believe you're the one who finished dear," Rebecca smiled.

"Just means I fucking owe you doesn't it," You bit around her collarbone and down her chest. Rebecca gasped and tried to remain composed.

"Yeah, it does," she grinned. "I do have my own ideas first,"

Her slender fingers pushed between your folds and rubbed teasing circles around your clit.

"God." you moaned.

Rebecca attacked your neck with bites and kisses. You rocked your hips into her hand making soft low moans that made her grin.

"I'm going to make you beg me to make you come, then you can have your fun," Rebecca growled in your ear. The only reply you could muster was rocking your hips harder into her hand. You could feel yourself coating her fingers with each movement of your hips. Rebecca slid two fingers inside you and you gasped, loudly whining into her neck. She dug her nails into your hip as you rocked yourself on top of her.

"Jesus christ, fuck." you panted.

"Are you going to beg me?" Rebecca teased as she pulled you in for a deep kiss still working her fingers between your legs. Rebecca repeated what she said but slowed her movements which caused you to cry out needily.

"No, don't stop." you cried.

Rebecca wrapped her free hand round your throat and sat up so you could use her to balance. It also gave her more control which she wanted. Those manicured fingers dug into your throat slowly and her eyes pierced into yours. The hand between your legs had stopped and you had to give in, you wanted her badly.

"Please 'becca, fuck me," you gasped wrapping your smaller hand around hers.

Rebecca grinned and flipped you over so you were on your back. You took a moment to take in Rebecca's beautiful body, muscular arms, strong shoulders, long legs and incredible breasts. She truly was breathtaking. You went to put your hands between your legs but Rebecca grabbed your wrists pinning them above your head. Her tongue traced over your collarbone slowly and you whined.

"I begged you, what's with the fucking teasing!?" you exclaimed, wriggling underneath the taller woman above.

"I didn't tell you to touch yourself, you didn't get permission so you're being punished for being a bad girl," her silky smooth tone almost melted you and you swear you made a mess of her sheets.

"Fuck," you whined shuffling under her grip.

Rebecca smiled, eyeing the very vulnerable position you were in. Her lips ghosted yours as she took in the situation. You could tell she absolutely loved this, loved being in charge and loved that you did as she asked.

"Leave them there," Rebecca ordered. She let go of your hands, you didn't dare move them. You ached for her touch so badly. She straddled you showing off her beautiful curves. Her green eyes scanned over your body, she took your breasts in her hands and you whined. Her slender fingers kneaded and caressed them. She took great pleasure in teasing your hardening nipples. Rebecca attacked your neck with bites and sloppy open mouthed kisses marking her territory.

"You fuckin' marking me huh?" you grinned though shaking breaths.

"You're full of attitude this morning aren't you?" Rebecca grinned resting her forehead on yours. "What if I don't let you come and I make you watch me? You watch me touch and moan but you have to go the whole day unsatisfied and dripping, with no release," Rebecca sneered. She had such a sinister tone to her voice and pressed light kisses to your neck.

Rebecca sat up right, adjusting her position. Those muscly thighs squeezing your body a few times while she straddled you. Her hand dipped between her long legs as she started to moan. Fuck she looked utterly gorgeous.

"Can I touch you, please, Rebecca?" you asked. It took everything you could not to touch yourself or her without permission. Rebecca grinned and gasped as her long fingers worked between her folds.

"Move your hands to my hips."

You did as she asked and placed them on her body, her soft skin and beautiful shape under your touch. You watched in awe as Rebecca moved her fingers through her folds moaning and shuffling on top of you. You almost lost your mind when she bit her bottom lip. You wanted to taste her again, it would take your mind away from the aching between your legs. You could hear how wet Rebecca was by the motion of her fingers, moving around her and sliding inside her. She gasped and grabbed her boob. You dug your fingers into her hips, tightening your grip possibly leaving marks.

"Bite me," she gasped repositioning so you could get into the soft flesh of her breasts.

You didn't need to be told twice, you nibbled at her skin and used your tongue to sooth the gentle bites and Rebecca moaned deeply. You sucked and bit being careful not to leave any marks. You sucked on her hard nipples hearing a low moan that escaped her parted lips.

"Can I cup your face?" you muttered on her skin.

"Yes," she gasped. You could feel the breathy moans building up and the changes in her demeanour as she started to give into her pleasures. Her green eyes half lidded and how she bit her bottom lip. She was utterly gorgeous and you wanted to help guide her to orgasm no matter what. You cupped her face and worked biting kisses along her jawline and down her throat being sure to bite harder when her moans got louder.

"Fuck, I'm close," Rebecca groaned, her hand working harder between her legs as she rubbed her now throbbing bud.

"Let me help you," you said.

You latched onto her nipple again, biting harder. You were sure you'd leave marks but you didn't care now. You wanted her to finish.

"Oh my god, fuck," Rebecca gasped. Her whole body tensed as the warm feeling shot through her body. You felt her wetness on your skin and you'd be lying if it didn't make you crave your finish more. You held her face and let her slowly come down from her high. She gave you a pleasant smile and you kissed her softly on the lips. You pulled Rebecca into you so your chests were pressed together as she caught her breath. You drew patterns across her soft skin.

"You are so gorgeous Rebecca,"

"So are you," Rebecca smiled. She sat up and ran her hands up your thighs to your hips and your ribs stopping when she reached your neck pulling you into a deep tongue kiss. You moaned into her mouth digging your nails down her back rocking your hips into her body trying to gain any kind of friction.

"Please." you muttered.

"What was that?" Rebecca grinned.

"Please!" you huffed. "Fuck me."

"That's what I thought," Rebecca made her way down your body kissing and biting. You groaned at the contact and tangled your hands in her blonde locks. She parted your legs gripping your inner thighs and grinned at your soaked folds.

"Didn't think seeing me orgasm on you would have this effect."

"Yes, you did. " you breathed.

Rebecca arched her brow and you avoided her gaze. You just needed her to touch you. Her tongue lightly traced across your folds. Your hips bucked into her mouth immediately, you were desperate and she could tell. Her mouth latched onto your swollen clit and you let out a scream of Rebecca's name. Fuck finally she was giving you what you wanted. Two of her fingers slid inside you with ease and you rocked against her rhythm. You could hear how wet you were and Rebecca lapped up every drop of you. You were wound up so tight, it didn't take you long to finish.

"Oh my god, oh my god," you panted as the warm feeling spread through every nerve and your eyes shut tight. Rebecca rode out the wave with you until you were nothing but a sweating panting mess beneath her. She wiped her mouth and you grabbed her hand, sucking her fingers clean. She grinned while you did it and drew patterns across your stomach.

Rebecca pulled you on top of her and you pressed a lazy kiss to her lips. She kissed you harder and you let her explore your mouth. The kissing turned to lazy makeouts, you broke the kiss to snuggle into the nape of her neck. She rested her hands on your hips and drew patterns across your back.

"Holy fuck, you're amazing," you smiled.

"Plenty more where that came from darling," Rebecca grinned stroking your hair.

A/N I had this thought that Rebecca would be such a tease and love it. Of course she’s got her dom boss energy.

#rebecca welton #rebecca welton x reader #ted lasso #rebecca welton fics

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lizmaximoff · 1 year

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JIM HOPPER FIC RECS

An official list of Jim Hopper x Reader and Jim Hopper x OC recommendations (an update from this list).

Fics are arranged by one-shot or multi-chapter, then by rating, and then alphabetically.

This arsenal contains 97 FICS as of 5/14/23.

To see a masterlist of my own Jim Hopper fics, click here.

LIZZIE’S TOP FIVE

Baking for Bang | E ( @daughterofthebrowncoats ) - The reader has been pining after the big, handsome Chief of Police since the day he walked into her bakery. Using the wiles available to her – namely her baking skills – she sets out to slowly seduce him, culminating on a wintery day in Hopper’s cabin with a box of baked goods and an interesting confession.

Pain in my Heart | M ( @flamehairedwritings ) - It’s your senior year and your best friend is still a dick. It’s your senior year and your best friend is still an ass. It’s your senior year and your best friend, Jim Hopper, is still trying to get you to help him with his homework.

Popsicles and Water Hoses | E ( @thebackseatofjimsblazer ) - The moment that you had seen what Jim’s shorts looked like with his hard on pressing against his jeans was the moment you realized that Jim could be a friend and a boy. That was also the moment you developed something for Jim you wouldn't be able to describe correctly for a while. Or where you and Jim are spending time together on a summers day after graduation.

Some Legs are Meant to Be Broken | E ( @boogiewrites ) - When Hopper breaks both of his legs, and you’re the newest employee at the station, it means you get recruited to be his babysitter. Would he be as frustratingly difficult to deal with as you imagine?

Hoping for Hopper | E ( @daughterofthebrowncoats ) - The reader runs a bar in town and her favorite customer Hopper comes in for a drink. The evening takes an unpleasant turn when a former classmate comes in and stirs up trouble for the reader, making her doubt herself. Hopper steps in to help like the gentleman he is…n’t.

AMAZING HOPPER WRITERS

@bitchinsinclair

@boogiewrites

@empresskylo

@flamehairedwritings

@irrelevantwriter

saltedtears via AO3

ONE-SHOT FICS

Caregiver Prompt | K ( @thewintersoldierdisaster ) - N/A

Eggnog and Trees | K ( @darling-i-read-it ) - Request: Since it’s the Christmas season, can you write a Hopper x reader where he’s kinda a grinch and she’s just a little ball of love and light. They’re friends but then on Christmas he confesses or something like that.

At the Lake Prompt | T ( @thewintersoldierdisaster ) - N/A

First Date | T ( @flamehairedwritings ) - N/A

Handyman | T ( generallycynical via AO3 ) - You broke your ankle while chasing someone and now you're stuck on desk duty. You complain about your grass needing mowed and the next day, Hopper shows up at your door.

He Seems | T ( @kilyra ) - Running into an ex is always awkward, but when your ex is Hopper, you fully expect it to be awful.

Home is Where the Shitty Coffee Is | T ( underthenorthstar via AO3 ) - You’ve been tutoring Eleven for the year in between the Demogorgon and the Mind Flayer. You’ve managed to develop a massive crush on her surrogate father, Jim Hopper, in that time. One late night over cups of bad coffee, things finally come to a head.

Just What the Doctor Ordered | T ( underthenorthstar via AO3 ) - You fall and injure yourself. An overprotective but sweet Hopper takes care of you.

Kisses as a Distraction Prompt | T ( @clonecaptains ) - N/A

Ranking | T ( @psychiatristreturning ) - N/A

Sneaky Chief | T ( @hawkins-hoe ) - A parent teacher conference with the handsome Chief of Hawkins leads to a sneaky dinner date.

Sweet on You | T ( xfandomwritingsx via AO3 ) - You make Jim dress up as Santa for the Christmas party.

Weeknight Take Out | T ( pettifogger via AO3 ) - N/A

Without Filters | T ( adkinsmayo via AO3 ) - You and Hopper have been best friends since seventh grade. You can see right through his bullshit and that’s what he liked most about you. Through every relationship and every shitty situation, you were always there for each other. Now the junior prom was just around the corner and you both planned to keep your childhood promise of being each other’s date. That was until Ginger Peterson came into the picture. You tried not to be mad, but you absolutely were and something was telling you it wasn’t just because he had broken his promise.

Candy Hearts | M ( @flamehairedwritings ) - N/A

Cups | M ( @flamehairedwritings ) - Prompt: Character A and Character B, sworn enemies, are chosen to prepare the company Christmas Party.

Kisses on the Back Prompt | M ( @clonecaptains ) - N/A

Long Time Coming | M ( @xfandomwritingsx ) - You and Hopper finally give into each other.

Sunday Stroll | M ( TheOlderDixonBoy via AO3 ) - You enjoy taking walks in the morning by yourself, but when Jim Hopper starts to drive by and say good morning each day, you begin to truly look forward to them. It also doesn’t hurt that you’re pretty sure Chief Hopper enjoys these meetings as well.

A Very Hopper Birthday | M ( @daughterofthebrowncoats ) - It’s the reader’s 21st birthday and while out with her friends, comes across her good friend Chief Hopper. Riding high on a little bit of liquid courage, she decides to take the bull by the horns, so to speak, with regards to her crush on Hopper.

Am I Tough Enough | E ( kitten_michael via AO3 ) - N/A

An Act of Nature | E ( @boogiewrites ) - You move back to Hawkins, luckily you hit it off with a friend of your step brothers. When Chief Hopper finally gets around to asking you out, what is it going to take for the two of you to find time alone? An act of nature?

Behind Closed Doors | E ( @tricksters-captain ) - You get into some trouble and Hopper hides you away in the cabin until it blows over but isolation isn’t for you.

Bloom | E ( @hoppersmut | DEACTIVATED ) - You trust your friend Jim Hopper completely. You’ve asked him to do something for you that no one else will ever be able to do again. You’ve trusted him to take your virginity.

Boiled Over | E ( adkinsmayo via AO3 ) - Hopper’s dominant side is usually his only side. But it rarely ever comes out in the bedroom, he’s always afraid he’ll hurt you. But when it does, Jim is ruthless. But it usually takes you being just as ruthless to get him to lose control. Or in this case, take control. And you know what they say: the heat can make you do crazy things.

Catch Me if You Can, Chief! | E ( My_Name_Is_Nobody via AO3 ) - It's the 4th of July in Hawkins, and while everybody's having fun at the amusement park, the only one who's catching your attention is Jim Hopper, Chief of Police — and he's looking at you, equally interested.

Caught | E ( @davidharbovr | DEACTIVATED ) - N/A

Chief Who | E ( @daughterofthebrowncoats ) - The reader is new to town and had a mildly awkward first encounter with the local chief of police. Then, come to find out, his car is the one she’s working on and he needs a ride home. Hopper wants to know why she’s nervous, is it all cops or just him? The reader feels obligated to prove she’s not nervous at all and one thing leads to another and somehow they end up against the wall of Hopper’s trailer.

Cherries a la Mode | E ( @alias-b ) - Summer of ‘83. Jim’s having a bad day at work and Lucy shows up to brighten his life. Only if he allows it. A game blooms when they’re alone in his office.

Christmas Miracle | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - You know how to make all the hours of Christmas shopping worth it.

Clodhopper | E ( @daughterofthebrowncoats ) - Hopper gets drunk and horny…and hungry…

Come Away with Me | E ( @halfway-happyyy ) - You had the misfortune of marrying one of Hawkins sleaziest men, but when Jim Hopper enters your life, you realize that everything really does happen for a reason, and every choice has a consequence.

The County Fair | E ( @acciosnapes | DEACTIVATED ) - Barbeque grill outs, pool parties and more- late nights in Hawkins, Indiana was never really that dull, especially if you were the mayors daughter. And, especially fun if you were fucking your dads best friend.

Cuffed Up Chief | E ( saltedtears via AO3 ) - Prompt: There are so many fics out there with Hopper in control but like.. What if there was one where the reader has him in cuffs and is just teasing the ever loving shit outta him?

Dad’s Best Friend | E ( @empresskylo ) - hopper is your dad's best friend. you definitely should not be attracted to him. at the very least, he should definitely not be attracted to you...

Do Not Touch | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - A visit to Murray’s house of wonders provides a lot more than you bargained for.

Feral | E ( @irrelevantwriter ) - Jim was trapped in the Upside Down. He made it out and back to you. But all that time away without you means it’s only a matter of time before he snaps.

Good Girl, Bad Woman | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - You’ll get this round.

Golden Thread | E ( Verbo via AO3 ) - It’s New Year’s Eve, 1982, and tonight you might actually have a chance to act on your long-standing crush on Chief Jim Hopper.

Green | E ( mrs_squirrel_chester via AO3 ) - You’ve had your eye on Hopper for a while now.

Handyman | E ( Pnutbladdr via AO3 ) - Hopper stumbles across your private drawer of sex toys, and one in particular catches his eye

Happy Drinking with Hopper | E ( @likedovesinthewnd ) - After a grueling work week, you and Hopper decide to blow off some steam at your local dive bar.

Haunted House Prompt | E ( @chiefhopalong ) - N/A

Home Sweet Home | E ( @bitchinsinclair ) - Reader entices Hopper to fuck her by wearing his Hawkins PD jacket.

Hop to It | E ( @sherrybaby14 ) - Hopper arrests you for protesting.

Hopper BJ Fic | E ( @lucifer-in-leather ) - N/A

Hopper Can Have Nice Things, Too | E ( @irrelevantwriter ) - A funhouse leads to some fun.

In the Back of the Truck | E ( @crewhonk ) - You and Jim Hopper have some fun in the back of his truck during the Snowball.

Imagine: Riding Jim Hopper | E ( @imagine-fandom-randoms | DEACTIVATED ) - N/A

Late for A Date | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - N/A

Late Night Talking | E ( @laureliciousdefinition ) - You visit Hop on a slow night at the station.

Little Girl/Old Man | E ( DeathBecomesNerds via AO3 ) - After an all-too-adventurous day with Eleven and her friends, Chief Hopper and Eleven's new guardian get a little handsy with each other.

Long Day, Longer Night | E ( @boogiewrites ) - A long day turns into an even longer night after you find yourself alone with the Chief…yet again.

New Year’s Eve | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - Prompt: Character A can’t travel to see their family, so they invite their grumpy loner neighbor Character B.

Next Contestant | E ( TheCharleeMonstah via AO3 ) - Prompt: JIM HOPPER IN A BAR FIGHT AFTER SOMEBODY GRABS HIS GIRL'S ASS, BAD MOON RISING PLAYING IN THE BACKGROUND. SHE IS LIKE 'hopper no-' and he's like 'HOPPER YES' and she ends patching up his cuts and such, maybe a lil smut if you fancy?? ❤️

Not the Fun Kind of Daddy Issues | E ( @boogiewrites ) - Jim Hopper is your ex husband. The fire burned bright but you just aren’t good for each other, you know it. You both try to deal with divorce and trying to raise Jane together despite your differences. Will she end up bringing you back together, or tearing you apart? Or maybe a little of both?

The Main Course | E ( @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash ) - Hopper gets stood up on his date, so you decide to make a move.

Make Me | E ( @likedovesinthewnd ) - You’re Hawkins’ finest prosecutor, smart and resourceful, beautiful and cunning. With most of your time spent at the station, butting heads with the Chief of police, what happens when all that tension comes to a head?

Memories Made in the Coldest Winter | E ( bluetriangles via AO3 ) - When your car dies during the first blizzard of the season, an unlikely savior appears in the form of Jim Hopper.

Mouthful | E ( @eleanor-gillespie ) - Literally the entire thing is reader is giving Hopper a blow job. Hopper is encouraging and adorable and has a dirtier mouth than you.

Movie Night | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - N/A

The Outfit | E ( @eleanor-gillespie ) - You work retail at the local JCPenney in the men's section. You catch the Chief of Police flirting with a new look... You help boost his confidence.

The Photo Booth | E ( @flamehairedwritings ) - You and Hop need more… posed pictures together.

Picture Perfect | E ( @ssahotchswifemain ) - Hopper and his girlfriend make lasting memories together through photographs.

Pursue | E ( @flames-bring-a-ton-of-ash ) - How far can you push Hopper before he loses control?

Reconciliation | E ( @loveberrie ) - In which y/n and Jim Hopper have recently broken up, but when an incident requiring his presence arises, things may just reconcile.

Role Reversal | E ( @davidharbovr | DEACTIVATED ) - N/A

Roughin’ It | E ( @glitteringroseangel ) - When Hopper takes off the weekend, The Reader convinces him to go on a camping trip together to help clear his head.

Soaked | E ( @hawkinswhores | DEACTIVATED ) - N/A

Slippery Hell | E ( saltedtears via AO3 ) - Prompt: Hopper trying to fit in the bathtub with his sweetheart.

Sweet Summer Lemonade | E ( @eupheme ) - You go to Murray’s for some help, you end up with a little more than you bargained for.

Tequila Sunrise | E ( MissFiction via AO3 ) - Jim Hopper encounters an office assistant he's been interested in at his favourite seedy bar and demands her attentions all to himself.

There’s More to Mornings Besides Coffee and Contemplation | E ( @irrelevantwriter ) - It’s a special wake up call for our Chief of Police. One that doesn’t include coffee and contemplation.

Three in the Morning | E ( @mikahowl ) - Set right at the beginning of season 1. Reader’s back in Hawkins after graduating from college a couple months ago. As she searches for a more permanent job, she works part-time at the police station. She loves the job, despite the... history between her and her boss, Chief Hopper. A troublemaker in high school, she’s had her fair share of run ins with Hop in the past. But, that’s just it: it’s all in the past. Or is it?

“Too” Big | E ( @bitchinsinclair ) - N/A

Truck Stop | E ( saltedtears via AO3 ) - Prompt: Fucking Hawkins' Chief of police in his truck.

The Upper Hand | E ( @ashlybee ) - working at hawkins police department has it’s perks when jim hopper is your boss, but after a day of you teasing him, he forces you to go to the annual picnic. you haven’t learned your lesson and you continue to tease at the event and hopper puts you in your place.

When It Goes Wrong, It Goes Right | E ( duchess_of_brighton via AO3 ) - Prompt: Where reader tries to make a sexy show for Hopper and it doesn’t go right and she gets embarrassed but Hop comforts her and sexy times ensue…

MULTI-CHAPTER FICS

The Boys in Blue | NR ( MB234 via AO3 ) - Police Chief Jim Hopper was not a man who believed in impossible things. In the pale stark light of the horrifying, awe striking things he’d seen last year, truly the stuff of goddamned nightmares, was it really so impossible that a small, graceful, fucking gorgeous woman half his age could want him?

Moonrise Radio | T ( @whirlybirbs ) - You’re Hawkins high’s new science teacher, faculty advisor for the newly reinstated Hawkins AV club, and crazy townie who overhears a Russian comminucae on a broken ham radio. Chief Jim hopper is into it. Joyce is a good wing-woman and the kids just want to listen the the buggles.

Ours | M ( @alloftheimagines ) - in which the reader saves hopper from the russian prison camp, and after a soft reunion, shares life-changing news: a baby he had no idea existed awaits him in hawkins.

See You Tomorrow | M ( Teadum via AO3 ) - While you’re staying with your sister Karen and her family you meet a certain police chief when he arrives to drop off his daughter.

Slow Hands | E ( @thebackseatofjimsblazer ) - Robin talks you into going out to the bar for drinks and attention, but you meet Hopper & he promises you things no man has been able to give to you.

Coffee and Infatuation | E ( @likedovesinthewnd ) - Hawkins resident grump and messy Chief of police, Jim Hopper makes an unlikely friend on his quest for coffee. His tumultuous past keeps him from pursuing a relationship. But how long before his true feelings can no longer be ignored?

Don’t Call Her Annie | E ( @boogiewrites ) - Annette Horowitz is Joyce’s younger sister. She hasn’t been the perfect sibling or aunt but after she finds out Will is missing, she finds herself crashing back into Hawkins to do everything in her power to help, driven by a need to prove herself. She hasn’t been around much in the past 20 or so years, but when she comes back home she finds old friends, old habits and old feelings she’d thought she’d finally escaped. Can she really change or is she just kidding herself?

For Your Age | E ( @acciosnapes | DEACTIVATED ) - After graduation, you want one thing, and one thing only. And his name is Chief Jim Hopper. [ PART TWO ]

Homecoming | E ( duchess_of_brighton via AO3 ) - You and Hopper first met when you were both in downward spirals, grieving and lost. For a while, you gave each other solace, but it didn't last. Two years later you return to Hawkins, hoping to make amends and walk away without regrets this time. Funny how life never turns out quite the way you plan it...

Hungry Eyes | E ( adkinsmayo via AO3 ) - You never thought older men were your type. Older men still weren’t really your type. Unless that older man happened to be Jim Hopper. And from the way you two dance around each other in the office, makes you think younger women just might be his type. Or maybe you just happen to be his type.

Looking for the Magic | E ( @alias-b ) - Nothing ever happens in Hawkins. Jim Hopper told himself that when he was drawn back to his hometown after losing everything. Lucy Garland would disagree. The monsters here are just cleverly disguised in fine suits.

Ride Home | E ( @empresskylo ) - you had always thought chief jim hopper was hot. and you knew he thought the same about you, he just tried to hide it because it was wrong–he knew your dad for fuck’s sake… (oh, and you were still in high school.) however, after hopper crashes a house party, you ask him for a ride home. hopper briefly loses his self-control promising to never do it again…

SPECIAL FICS

Santa Baby | E ( @trailerparkgrl ) - N/A (Based on Violent Night)

Three’s Company | E ( @irrelevantwriter ) - our coworkers decide to pop in for a late night visit.

#jim hopper #david harbour #jim hopper x reader #jim hopper x you #jim hopper smut #hopper #hopper x reader #hopper x you #chief hopper #chief jim hopper #stranger things

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kandisheek · 2 months

Text

FIC REC WEEK 10 – FOUND FAMILY

AUTHOR SPOTLIGHT: scifigrl47

If you've been in this fandom for any amount of time, you've probably read something of Sci's. The universes that she's created are a fandom staple, and it says a lot about how fantastic her writing is that her OCs fit seamlessly into the stories, to the point that I sometimes forget that they're not actually canon. I especially love the way she writes the whole Found Family aspect of the Avengers, so those are the kinds of fics I want to rec today. But honestly you should just go ahead and binge her entire AO3, because everything on it is incredible.

Here's some of her work that I think you should check out:

Phil Coulson Knows Tony Stark's Super Villain Name

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: T Words: 14,454 Tags: Training Exercise, Paintball, Humor

Summary: The only thing really stopping Tony Stark from attempting to conquer the world is that he wouldn't know what to do with it once he conquered it. He's still pretty sure he could do it, though. SHIELD's pretty sure he could do it, too, and SHIELD is pretty uncomfortable with that. There's a plan in place, in case Tony makes a try for world domination, or any sort of caped super villainy. It involves Steve. No one is surprised. This is not that plan. This is a training exercise, involving paint balls. It might end with world domination, anyway.

Reasons why I love it: You just know that if Tony wanted to, he would've taken over the world a long time ago. This fic is hilarious, and I especially love Bruce and Harris' roles in this disaster that Fury calls a training exercise. Also, Darcy is goddamn adorable. This fic always puts a smile on my face, so I hope you check it out!

The Best of Life and Asgard

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: M Words: 15,794 Tags: Humor, Public Indecency, Drunken Behavior

Summary: Tony Stark has been drunk at a few parties in his life. A quick browse of YouTube makes that impossible to deny, so he doesn't bother. But he can control himself, he doesn't have to drink. He can stay perfectly sober for just one night. He promised, he could go one night without drinking. The problem is, he was the only one who made that promise.

Reasons why I love it: Drunk Steve is so adorable, oh my god. I love the mild dash of angst sprinkled in at the beginning and the end, and Steve's upset over his own behavior is funny and endearing at the same time. The strip poker scene makes me cry laughing every time. And the Avengers family feels are strong with this one. I adore this fic, so please check it out, if you haven't already!

Phil Coulson Does Not Bake (and The Avengers Do Not Shop At IKEA Anymore)

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: G Words: 6,671 Tags: Humor, Pranks, Baking

Summary: Sometimes Tony Stark makes poor choices. Sometimes Tony pushes his teasing of Steve Rogers just a little too far. Sometimes Steve decides he's had enough. Phil Coulson's the one who's got to write this nonsense up, and he does not bake.

Reasons why I love it: Tony is such a little shit. Honestly, he deserves what Steve has in store for him. And of course, Tony is absolutely adorable in his desperation to make it up to Steve, even if he has to learn a new skill to do it. The rest of the Avengers getting roped into it is just the cherry on top. I love this one so much, please go and read it for yourself, it's amazing!

Extracurricular Activities

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: T Words: 8,332 Tags: Overprotective Avengers, Poor Choices, Exotic Dancing

Summary: New York has a party for any taste. Some people like high class lounges. Some enjoy a good dive bar. There are gay bars and techno clubs and all night raves. And somewhere out there, there's a club where the dancers are dressed like Super Heroes, and Spider-Man may or may not be their headliner. Let's face it, the everyone assumed that Clint would be the first Avenger to take up pole dancing. He's a little distressed he's been beaten to the punch.

Reasons why I love it: I don't know why, but somehow the thought of Spiderman pole-dancing for money just makes complete sense in my head. And the rest of the Avengers being nosy bitches about it is a given. We love to see it. And any appearance of Harris in a scifigrl47 fic is enough to make my day. This fic is amazing, and you should definitely go ahead and read it!

Phil Coulson is Not the Avengers' Public Relations Manager

Pairing: Steve/Tony, Clint/Coulson Rating: T Words: 6,881 Tags: Humor, Steve Does Not Like Bullies, Social Justice

Summary: From the Avengers Case Files of Phil Coulson: Grocery shopping is necessary, Tony's a little too proud of his tech, Captain America's lost on the streets of New York, and sometimes social injustice just happens. Phil Coulson's the one who's got to write this nonsense up, and he is not their PR Manager.

Reasons why I love it: Drew and Shawn have my entire heart. And Steve too, although that one's a given. I love seeing the Avengers fight for social justice, and their statements to the press are so fucking satisfying. Give me Steve fighting bullies any day! Definitely check this one out if you haven't read it yet, I bet you'll love it just as much as I do!

#marvel #stony #fanfic #fic rec #fanfic rec #ficrec #a year in fanfic recs #found family

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blackjackkent · 2 months

Note

for fic requests- how about something with karlach and gortash, before avernus while she was still working for him?

Ahhh, sorry this took me a bit to respond to! I ended up getting kind of excited about this prompt and making a full AO3 one-shot out of it (and giving myself Karlach feels :O ). I hope you like it! <3 TYSM for sending me a prompt!

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Zariel's Crucible

Pairing: Enver Gortash & Karlach Characters: Enver Gortash, Karlach Rating: G Warnings: None Word Count: 2.4k Setting: Approx. 10 years pre-BG3 Summary: Enver Gortash believes his young bodyguard, Karlach, is the perfect fit for the deal he needs to make with the archdevil Zariel. But he must be sure that she's capable of withstanding what Zariel will demand of her. other bg3 one-shots | send me fic requests!

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Gortash casually flips through the papers on his desk and doesn't look up at the sound of the footsteps coming through the door. It's a studied complacency that has taken him time to perfect, an attitude of casual disdain for the potential danger inherent in an unexpected visitor. It offers the unspoken message - this dangerous life is little danger to me, and whoever you are, you are no danger at all. And yet he is on guard, of course, ready to snap his hand to his sword at a moment's notice.

“What is it?” he asks impatiently.

“Nice new digs, boss.” The footsteps halt a little in front of his desk.

He relaxes, though he still doesn't look up. “Afternoon, Karlach.”

“We're really moving up in the world. Just got through checking out the new warehouse by the docks.”

“Any problems?”

“Nah.” She laughs. “You run a tight ship. Down by the ships.” She snickers at her own joke. “Me ‘n Fytz ‘n Spence are going out to get some grub. Wondered if you wanna come with.”

He resists the urge to roll his eyes. His young tiefling bodyguard never fails to show up with that cheeriness that sets his teeth on edge. It would count as a crippling level of naivety for their line of work if she weren't also so astonishingly good at beating the shit out of anyone who crosses him.

So she does have her uses, some of which were instrumental in bringing him to the top of the underworld food chain here. And in spite of that exhausting level of plebeian charm, he will be sorry to lose her when the deal with Zariel goes through.

Speaking of which… the final test needs arranging.

Read More on AO3

#enver gortash #gortash #gortash bg3 #karlach #karlach cliffgate #karlach bg3 #bg3 karlach #baldur's gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 fic #baldurs gate #baldur's gate #i never know how to taaaaaaag #anon i hope you see this and i hope you like it <3 #tysm for giving me the suggestion!

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musings-of-a-rose · 6 months

Text

Falling Slowly - Chapter 2

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2400+

Rating: Mature - 18+ ONLY!

Warnings: Just like ao3, “creator chooses not to use warnings.” If you click Keep Reading, that means you agree that you’re the age to handle mature themes. Also by clicking Keep Reading, you understand warnings may not be complete in order to avoid spoilers for the story.

Notes: This started as a simple idea for Tommy. He had different ideas and I can’t say no to those freckles and smile. Thanks to @mermaidxatxheart for helping me get unstuck. You always have such great ideas!

And a big thanks to @wyn-n-tonic for helping me form thoughts and give this a little shape. I hope I can be a quarter as talented as you one day!

**If you want to be added to the taglist, join here or let me know!

❤If you enjoy the fic, please consider giving me a warm beverage! (It is not required in any way!)

**Reader is not described. Divider made by @benkeibear

Main Masterlist

Falling Slowly Masterlist

Tommy Miller Masterlist

<<Chapter 1<<

“Would you rather never be able to wear pants or never be able to wear shorts?”

Tommy laughs, his entire body shaking it with it. “What kind of question is that?”

I smirk at him. “Just answer it.”

“I think you know the answer.”

“You do love your Daisy Dukes.”

Tommy pokes my rib and I flinch, giggling as I pull away from him. “Hey don’t attack me!”

Tommy lunges towards me, fingers outstretched as I scream, not moving fast enough to avoid his waggling fingers. They find their way into my sides, tears streaming down my face as I giggle uncontrollably, my body twitching to try and get away, but Tommy just pulls me in closer.

“S-s-STOP!” I throw my entire body backwards on the couch to try and get away, but Tommy comes with me, pressing his body into mine. My laughs slowly subside as he stops tickling me, his eyes switching between mine and my lips. I swear he can feel my heart beating through my chest.

“W-would you rather be balding but fit or overweight with a head full of hair?”

“Way to kill the mood.” Tommy was smiling, but he lifts himself off of me, extending his hand to help me up.

“Which one, Tommy?”

He puffs out some air, eyes shifting up like he’s thinking. “This is a hard one. I mean, look at me.” He gestures to himself and I can’t help but look for just a brief moment.

“Yes, yes. Very hot. Answer the question.”

“Have you seen this hair? I ain’t given’ it up.”

“That’s fair.”

We resume watching the movie and I lay my head on his broad shoulder, hoping that he can’t hear how my heart still beats through my chest.

It’s been the week from hell. Any minor inconvenience happened, mixing in with semi major issues, all contributing to my stress levels being over the top, even more so than normal.

It’s Friday night and, like clockwork, Tommy knocks on my door at 7:30pm. He is annoyingly prompt. I’d almost cancelled tonight, but he's the one thing I look forward to every week.

“Hey Daisy!” Tommy is way too chipper for a Friday night after a week of hard work.

“Hey.”

He whistles. “That bad, huh?”

“You have no idea.”

“Good thing I brought this then.” Tommy holds up a case of beer. “I’ve cleared my schedule for a good hangover tomorrow if needed.”

I can’t help the small smile that creeps across my face. “Thanks. Pizza just got here about 5 minutes before you did.”

“Great. I’m starvin’. Oh, I managed to snag Gladiator for tonight.”

“Pop it in.”

We sit and eat, making commentary on the movie. But no matter how hard I try, I just can’t seem to at least hide my frustration. Something that I was desperately trying to hide from Tommy - he doesn’t need to deal with my shit on top of his. Unfortunately, I’m not as slick as I think, and Tommy is way sweeter than he should be. Maybe laying on his shoulder wasn’t such a great idea. The movie quiets, dialogue happening between some of the characters, and Tommy leans his head on mine.

“You ok?”

I sigh. “I’m fine.”

“Don’t sound fine.”

“It’s just work.”

“Stressing you out again?”

“Just one of those weeks where anything that could go wrong, did. And anything that could take as long as humanly possible, did.”

“You need to let out some of that stress. It’s not healthy.”

I laugh. “Duh. Why didn’t I think of that?”

He’s quiet for a moment and I think I hurt his feelings. But before I can apologize, he speaks quietly.

“You know what you need? You need to get laid. You’re not getting any which really doesn’t help with the stress.”

What did he just say? Did he just suggest I get laid to calm down? Wait, is he offering?

“Yeah well, that may be, but in order to get laid, I’d have to have a boyfriend.”

“Not necessarily.”

“Are you suggesting I go find some random guy to hookup with?”

“N-no. Not some random guy.”

“Then who?”

He pauses. “Me.”

What?

I sit up, turning to stare at him, hoping my mouth isn’t hanging open like it is in my head. He chuckles nervously, eyes darting around the room, barely staying on me, his hands rubbing down his thighs over his jeans.

“You know what? That was stupid. I didn’t mean-”

"We'd have to set some ground rules."

Tommy's eyes snap to mine. "You..You're serious?"

"I am."

Tommy shifts in his seat, straightening himself out while trying to look chill and relaxed.

"Like, uh, like what-what exactly?"

"Hhmm… well, we still remain friends."

"That's a given."

“If one person wants to leave immediately…after, that’s ok. No obligation to stay.”

“Sounds good.”

"We can't get jealous if the other person wants to date someone else."

He’s silent a moment. “Seems fair.”

“And…oh, if either of us wants to call it off, it’s off. No hard feelings.”

“Oh, I can’t promise I won’t have hard feelings,” Tommy smirks at his joke as I roll my eyes, a smile on my face.

“Deal?” I stick my hand out.

Tommy looks at my hand. “Oh darlin’. That’s not how we’re sealin’ this deal.”

A rush of wet goes straight between my thighs and I try to swallow back the sound I just made.

Tommy chuckles darkly while he shakes my now sweaty hand. “Deal.”

He pulls me close, his large, warm hand coming up to cradle my cheek, fingers wrapping around the back of my head and winding their way into my hair. His lips are just above mine, his breath warm and hot on mine.

“Are you sure, darlin’?”

My head is full of desire, Tommy’s scent surrounding me, his hand grounding me to him, but I manage a nod.

“Yes,” I sigh.

He presses his lips to mine, soft and warm, tasting slightly of tobacco, as they gently push mine apart, his tongue sliding into my mouth. My hands slide up his broad chest, settling there for a moment as we both moan and get lost in a kiss that feels like we had both had been waiting for.

I throw my leg over his lap and straddle him, my hands sliding up to his face to tug at his curls at the back of his head. He moans and I do too, rolling my hips to get some kind of friction on my rapidly heating cunt. Tommy’s hands grip my hips, guiding me and helping me grind down more as I whine into his mouth and feel him harden under his jeans.

I throw my head back, gasping out his name as he kisses my chest, pulling at the hem of my shirt. I get the hint, yanking my shirt from me and throwing it across the room, my fingers already undoing my bra clasp before my shirt hits the floor, the bra joining it a moment later.

“Oh shit!” I cry out, as Tommy latches onto one of my nipples, sucking, licking, and nibbling as he still guides my hips to roll over his jean–clad erection. He switches to the other side, moaning when I tug his hair more.

Suddenly, he stands, sliding his hands under my ass as I wrap my legs around him, our lips finding each other as he marches down the hall to my room, kicking the door open. I giggle as he tosses me on the bed, grabbing my ankles and yanking me towards the edge of it. A quick glance up at me for a final confirmation, and my enthusiastic nod has him undoing my pants, quickly sliding them off and tossing them behind him. He stares down at my panties and I’m grateful that I actually wore cute ones today instead of my regular "I don't give a fuck" underwear. He reaches for my pant line but I stop him.

“Wait…you have entirely too many clothes on.”

He smirks, his eyes darkening even more. “You’re absolutely right.”

He sheds his shirt and while I knew how he was built, it was never in this situation. Outside of my fantasies, of course. He undoes the button on his jeans, sliding them down and off, balancing on each foot to take off his socks, both of us giggling as he nearly falls over in doing so. Then he’s back by me, fingers dancing at the hem of my panties for a moment before he hooks his fingers in, sliding them down and off, his eyes never leaving my pussy.

“Fuck, you’re prettier’n I imagined.”

He leans his head down, but I put my hand out to stop him. He looks up at me from between my legs, concern on his face.

“You don’t have to do that.”

“Do you not want me to?”

I can feel the heat coming off my cheeks because yes, I very much want him to do that. “No, of course I do. Like, I really do….But we agreed to sex and you don’t have to do all of…this.” I wave my hand around, aiming it between my thighs.

“Darlin’, we agreed to be friends with benefits. Not friends with some benefits. You get my dick, but you also get my mouth too.”

And before I can say anything else, he licks up the center of me and I whine, my back pushing further into the bed as he pries my legs open wider, using his broad shoulders to hold them open. He licks at me like he’d been dying to do this the entire time we’ve known each other, sucking gently and nibbling at my inner thigh. His finger comes up to my entrance as he rubs slow, small circles there, gathering up my arousal before slowly pushing in. I cry out, hands fisting in the sheets as he pulls his finger out, adding another as he pushes in, curling his finger and tapping until he found the spot I desperately hoped he would find.

“There! Oh shit, there!”

He scissors his fingers, licking and sucking at my clit and my hand flies out, gripping those beautiful curls. I look down at him between my thighs and he must feel my eyes on him. He looks up at me and smirks, his tongue darting out to lick at my clit and that’s all it takes to have my thighs shaking, twitching under his shoulders as I cry out random words. Once I come down, he crawls up my body, leaving little kisses on my skin as he goes, sucking on a spot on my neck as he grinds his still cloth covered dick into my soaked pussy.

“You want it rough or slow, darlin’?”

“You have multiple settings?”

He chuckles. “Yes, ma’am. Now, how do you want to be fucked today?”

He’s going to kill me.

“Tommy, you can rail me as fast or as slow as you want, so long as you make me forget my hard week. I won’t break.”

“Fuck, darlin’, you may just kill me yet.” He pulls back, getting off the bed and reaching for the hem of his boxer briefs. “Safe word is tomatoes.”

Before I can question it, he slides his boxers down and kicks them off, standing upright in his full, naked, broad chested, well endowed glory. He smirks when he sees me staring at him. Tommy crawls up my body again, his lips finding mine as he slides his large cock through my folds. He pauses at my leaking entrance, pulling back to look at me. His hand comes up to grip my chin and when I look at him, he slowly pushes inside of me.

While he’s not porn star large, he’s definitely the most endowed man I’ve ever slept with and damn does he know what he’s doing. I can feel every inch of him filling me up, pushing at the back of me, his breath hot on my face as he watches it contort in pleasure. He pulls out and pushes in slowly a few more times to allow me to adjust before he snaps his hips, pushing himself inside even further and I cry out. He sets an increasingly rough pace, snapping his hips against mine, adding that extra thrust that I swear is going to bruise me and I don’t even care. He turns my head to the side and nibbles at my earlobe, kissing down my neck gently, in stark contrast to the rough, deep thrusts he’s fucking me with and it’s all too much and not enough, my legs wrapping around him, willing him to do more. He pulls back slightly, pushing my legs up and hooking them under his arms as he continues to rail me at this new angle, hitting multiple spots simultaneously.

“Oh God, Tommy!” I scream his name as I come, my hands fisting the sheets, head thrown back, nearly buried in the mattress.

He keeps the pace but brings a hand up to my clit, rubbing circles there, only needing a few moments before he coaxes another orgasm from me, this one harder than the last as I scream his name again.

“Fuck, Tommy, fucking come inside of me!”

“Fuck!” Tommy rams his hips into me a few more sporadic times as he comes, panting out heavy words as he fills me up, our heavy breaths the only sound in the near silent room.

He pulls out of me with a hiss, walking into my bathroom and getting a couple of washcloths wet. He comes back out and cleans me up, chuckling as my thighs twitch when he dabs at my overstimulated cunt. He chucks them in my hamper and comes back to the bed, sitting on it next to me, where I haven’t moved since he got off of me.

“You ok, darlin’? Forget your hard week?”

“Mmmhmm,” I say, my eyes heavy with post fucking bliss. “You’re amazing at that, Tommy.”

“Ah, I do alright.”

“A Fucking King.”

He laughs. “I’m making a shirt.”

He slides into bed next to me, pulling me next to him as he wraps his body around mine.

“You cuddle too?”

“Only when I’m cold.” I can feel him holding back a laugh.

“Well, if your cock gets cold, and I’m asleep, you have my permission to put it inside of me.”

I feel his dick twitch behind me. “I may hold you to that.”

Tommy did take me up on my offer, softly thrusting into me from behind as he rubs slow circles into my clit. I wake to an orgasm, quietly moaning his name as he comes again, biting my shoulder as he does.

But as we make breakfast, Tommy laughing and joking around, still trying to tickle me as we flip the pancakes, it hits me.

I am totally fucked, in more ways than one.

>>Chapter 3>>

General Taglist:

@frankie-catfish-morales @chaoticgeminate @janebby @astoryisaloveaffair @balekanemohafe @greeneyedblondie44 @hoeforthefictional @marvelousmermaid @hauntedmama @giuliarogers @icanbeyourjedi @wretchedmo @sunnshineeexoxo @livingmydreams13 @adventures-of-a-noodle @sara-alonso @theewokingdead @punkerthanpascal @giggly-otter @f0rever15elf @phandoz @dirtytissuebox @gallowsjoker @lovesbiggerthanpride @sarahmilesbendrix @booksarekindaneat @mrsudontknowme @swol-bear @charlispersonallyhell @xoxabs88xox @amneris21 @gooddaykate @alindeluce @avengers-fixation @paintballkid711 @harriedandharassed @ladykatakuri @marrianena @practicalghost @withakindheartx @batdarkladyvampir @justanotherkpopstanlol @mermaidxatxheart @alexxavicry @ichigodjarin @justreblogginfics @sullyosully @kmc1989

#tommy miller #gabriel luna #The last of us #tommy miller x you #tommy miller x f!reader #tommy miller x female reader #tommy miller x reader #tlou #tlou fanfic #tlouff #the last of us fanfic #gabriel luna x reader #gabriel luna x you #gabriel luna characters character fanfic #gabriel lunal character ff #gabriel luna character fanfiction

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duchesschameleon · 19 days

Text

five

a percy jackson x formula 1 fic

pairing: percy jackson x annabeth chase

rating: t for teen

warnings: alcohol mention

read this fic on ao3

Percy lets out a shaky breath, foot bouncing on the floor.

One more race. Thats all thats left of this season, all that’s left for him to win a championship. One more race to beat Jason and solidify his place in history.

“Hey,” a voice calls out, pulling Percy out of his head. “You okay there?”

He looks up, sees the familiar face of Annabeth Chase, the head engineer and car designer for Delphi Racing popping into his room.

“I’m good. Just. Last race. Last chance to win this thing for you.”

Annabeth steps further into his driver room, smiles softly at him. “Win it for yourself, Seaweed Brain. Double points finish should wrap up the constructors championship for us. If my math is right, Jupiter Motors needs a 1-2 finish to beat us on that front. And that’s not happening, because I’ve got the best driver on the grid in my car.”

Percy smirks at her, sitting up a little straighter. “Best driver on the grid, huh?”

She rolls her eyes at him, faking exasperation. “I’m not saying it again. Not until you win this race.”

“Got it, Wise Girl. Win from pole and make it a grand slam?”

“Sounds like a good plan. I think that’s the Plan Alpha Grover has for you, if I heard the briefing correctly.”

Percy barks out a laugh, his nerves calmed by Annabeth’s presence, the way they always are.

“Thanks, Annabeth,” he says, standing up and taking her hand. “Guess I have a championship to win now.”

“Anytime, Percy,” she replies, squeezing his hand. “Go win your fifth championship, bring it home.”

——

He brings it home. Wins from pole, fighting off Jason Grace with all he’s got and manages to snag a fastest lap to complete the grand slam he promised Annabeth.

It’s a close race, the gap to Jason never bigger than 10 seconds, and the two swap positions the whole race. It’s a hard fought win, but it’s a win. His fifth world drivers championship in a row and Delphi Racing’s fifth constructors championship in a row.

It’s a new record, and one Percy already wants to beat next year.

“That’s P1 Percy Jackson! You are the world champion, and you sealed the deal with a grand slam!” Grover says through the radio, his excitement palpable.

“Holy shit, holy shit we did it!!” Percy says back to his race engineer. “Thank you so much, everyone! Couldn’t have done it without you, Grover and everyone in the garage!!! Holy shit!!”

“Congrats, Seaweed Brain!! That’s a fifth world championship! I’m so proud of you, everyone here is.” It’s Annabeth’s voice on the radio this time, her smile evident in her excitement.

“Thanks for the amazing car, Wise Girl,” he responds. “Tell me we got the constructors championship too?”

“We got it, you and Will both got on the podium. P3 for Will, he held off Zhang amazingly. I’ll see you on the podium, you’ve got some burnouts to do.”

“It’s a date.”

His radio clicks silent and Percy sticks a hand out of his car and signals to Jason Grace and Will Solace that they’ve been given the go-ahead for burnouts. He gets two thumbs up in response and immediately turns his car while hitting the break. Smoke goes up around him and he giggles, despite being a fully grown man. He giggles because he’s doing burnouts once again as the world champion and it’s the best feeling to have won this way, to have fought the whole season and have an actual competitor this year. He’s got no doubt in his mind Jason will be the one on the top step next year, Jupiter really challenged them and he’s a strong driver.

But not strong enough this year. This year, it’s Percy on top again. Percy who gets to walk out last and stand on that top step of the podium with Annabeth on the constructors podium.

They hear their anthems play, a sense of pride for both of them, and Percy stand straighter than he ever has in his life, still can’t believe he pulled off this Herculean task, but it’s real. It’s real, and his mom is in the crowd, crying happy tears as she holds his sister and leans into Paul, and his dad isn’t far away, eyes also wet with tears. It’s real and Annabeth is right there, just out of reach on her own podium, but looking at him with eyes full of pride and love.

And then it’s time for the champagne.

The anthems end and Percy can see Will putting down his trophy, switching it out for the champagne bottle at his feet that he starts to shake before slamming it on the ground, causing an eruption of champagne to flow out.

Percy grabs his own bottle, aiming the spray at his teammate as he gets doused from all sides, Annabeth joining the fray as well.

Jason’s good naturedly spraying all three members of the Delphi Racing team, his smile not quite reaching his eyes, but Percy knows from the cool down room that Jason had done everything he could, Percy was just better this race. So Jason sprays them, celebrates his P2 finish in the race and championship standings, having just edged out Will over the season.

Percy’s pulled out of his head by a shower of champagne down his back, Annabeth’s laughter right in his ear as she upends her bottle down the back of his race suit.

“Oh it’s on, Chase,” he says, shaking his bottle a little more before dumping it over her head, saturating her blonde curls in champagne.

“Percy!” she squeals, sputtering as the champagne runs down her face. “Oh my god, I’m gonna look crazy for the photos now.”

“You still look fine, you used waterproof makeup earlier,” he reminds her, arms slowly wrapping around her. “Now, I believe you owe me something,” he says, lips turning up into a smirk.

Annabeth rolls her eyes at his dramatic approach, but lets herself be tugged closer to Percy. “You’ve certainly fulfilled your end of the bargain,” she says, reaching to cup Percy’s cheek in her hand.

He can’t even think of anything to say in response, so he just crashes his lips onto hers, fulfilling a promise made at the start of the season.

“Win another championship for me, and the I’ll kiss you on the podium Seaweed Brain,” was the ultimatum Annabeth gave him during the first race weekend, when Percy whined about another season of keeping their relationship under wraps. And win he did.

It’s not their best kiss, Percy pressing hard into Annabeth, gripping her to him as they balance on the podium together, nearly empty bottles of champagne in hand, most of the liquid sprayed on the ground around them or clinging to their clothes.

No, it’s not the late night or early morning kisses shared on the beach, a kiss shared in his driver room before a race, or one behind their motorhome afterwards. It’s not filled with finesse, but it’s special because it’s one that tastes like champagne and winning and not hiding anymore. After six years, Percy can kiss Annabeth in public on purpose and not worry about the repercussions.

“Spray the lovebirds! They need to cool off!” Percy hears Will yell, feels the champagne spraying him. He wraps his arms more securely around Annabeth, poorly attempting to shield her from the onslaught of champagne.

“Took you long enough, Jackson!” Jason yells from the other side, also spraying them.

“Oh come on!” he protests, glaring at Jason over Annabeth’s shpulder. “We had our reasons!”

“Yeah, and yet almost the entire grid knew anyways! Worst kept secret,” Will throws back.

“And yet, you all helped us keep it from anyone outside of the grid. I’d say best kept secret,” Annabeth retorts, raising an eyebrow at her other driver.

“Touché.”

“And now the secrets out,” Percy murmurs to Annabeth, drawing her attention back to him.

“Secrets out,” she confirms, smiling up at him, grey eyes sparkling. “What are you gonna do about it, Jackson?”

He doesn’t respond this time, just drops his champagne bottle to more firmly wrap his arms around Annabeth, hands splayed across her back as he pulls her in again and kisses her. Their lips pressed together, he dips her, arching her back as he smiles against her lips, the happiest he’s ever been.

Percy lets out a breath when he pulls back, this one steady when hours before it had been shaky. He smiles down at Annabeth, presses one more quick kiss to her lips before standing her up straight again.

He’s a five-time world champion. His team are five-time constructors champions. He’s dating the woman he’s had a crush on for longer than he probably realized and got to kiss her on the podium under a champagne shower. He’s got a pretty good life.

#my writing #fic stuff #percy jackson #annabeth chase #percabeth #formula 1 #f1 fic #pjo fic #pjo #chbchronicles

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steddieas-shegoes · 5 months

Text

the freak and the hair and lex

it's time for the weekly fic rec, where i give the top 3 (to me) fics by some of my favorite authors. please always check out their masterlists/works because these authors may have stuff you love even more than what i put here! as always, check tags before reading and leave kudos and comments and reblog whenever possible to support writers!

this week is @thefreakandthehair and let me tell ya, this was one of the hardest weeks to narrow it down to my top 3. i have gone back and forth on lex's works for three days trying to narrow it down (and also realized at some point i missed a few posts so i'm about to do a binge read oops). lex is so talented and does so many things for the fandom, so everyone go celebrate her gifts to us!

lex's tumblr | lex's ao3

rounding third, sliding home Rated E | wip/big bang fic The much anticipated big bang fic is in progress and it's SO GOOD. I don't even like baseball, but Lex is proof that I can and will like any situation these boys are in. Massage therapist Eddie!!! Hello!!! I don't have to go into detail to let you know how that's going. Favorite part: Honestly, since it's a wip, I don't wanna give one yet. But I will say that the overall premise of a massage therapist being able to do what trainers and doctors couldn't makes something really happy in my brain.

ice is made to melt (so is my heart) Rated M | 1,507 words It's hockey. I sniff out hockey fics like a hunting dog. I mean it's literally just hockey fan Eddie and I'm eating it up like I've been starving for years. Favorite part because these are possibly word for word things I have screamed at my television at the Bruins whomst I love with my entire heart but would beat with a hockey stick if given the chance: "Are your blades dipped in fucking butter?” “The puck goes in the net!” "You can't shoot for shit, just like you can't grow a decent mustache, huh?" “Your job is to use your big ass body to stop the teensy tiny puck from getting around you and that’s a Hell of a lot easier if you stay in the fucking crease!”

Livin' On A Prayer Rated E | 17,915 words It's the classic idiots in love but don't realize it even though they basically have been boyfriends the entire time trope and I cannot get enough. It's like a slow-fast burn in the sense that they're dumb, but this is still short enough to binge in one relatively quick go. Favorite part which is kinda a spoiler so: “And I know myself well enough to know that I would die before letting anything happen to you, especially after nearly losing you once already, so I felt like being here was safest. And I— I don’t mean the same way that I love the kids or Robin or really anyone else. I’d die for them too but that’s— that’s not my point. I guess what I'm trying to say here is that I know this is one sided or whatever but I just, I’ve been wanting to tell you just to get it out of me because carrying this around alone for months and months has been wrecking me… I think I’m in love with you.”

#steddie #steve harrington #eddie munson #stranger things #fic rec

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ass-deep-in-demons · 1 year

Text

✦ Healing Touch ✦

Fandom: Lord of the Rings Pairing: Boromir x OC Tropes: awkward bedsharing, hurt/comfort Length: 4352 words Rating: T+ Warnings: blood, injury, canon-typical violence, Legolas being a little shit

This story takes place in the Wandering Birds AU (main fic currently in the making). It was originally posted as a WIP, in response to scyllas-revenge's wonderful Bed Shortage series. I've since developed it a little. Last edit: 12 Dec 2023.

[AO3] [MASTERPOST] [MORE WANDERING BIRDS]

The Wold, Rhovanion, Middle Earth, 28th of Nénimë 3019 TE

Boromir could feel little save the sizzling rage pulsing through his veins, as he hacked at one of the last two remaining orcs, shearing the creature’s head. The other one charged at him with a spear, but Boromir managed to grasp the weapon just under the sharpened tip, deflect it and use it to pull the monster forward, effectively skewering it on his sword. At once the creature screeched and punched its shield right into the man’s face.

Boromir cursed, as he went deaf and tasted blood. He staggered, but managed to stay upright. It was no easy thing, to fell an Uruk, as the beasts remained kicking even stuffed with iron. They feel no pain, fear no foe , Boromir thought with horror. He envied the vile lowlife, then, even if just for a fleeting moment. The orc raised its shield to slam it again, and Boromir realised belatedly he had nowhere to hide from the blow, not without giving ground and losing his sword, so he braced for the impact.

But suddenly the orc stumbled, and Meriadoc’s curly head peeked from behind the orc’s shoulder. The brave halfling jumped on the Uruk’s back and was trying to slit the creature’s throat. Orcish skin was hardened and almost impossible to pierce without strength and momentum backing the blade, so the hobbit’s dagger slid awkwardly and drew no blood. Boromir was going to have a good long talk with the young Brandybuck after this adventure, a talk concerning proper bladework techniques and also how unwise it was to climb up an enemy thrice one’s height. However, at the moment Merry’s antics worked in their favour.

Profiting from the Uruk’s distraction, Boromir pulled with his body weight to wring his sword from the Uruk’s bowels and… THUD! He slipped and landed on his back in a puddle of ichor. The orc landed on top of him, suddenly limp and very dead, driving the hilt of Boromir’s sword straight into the man’s solar plexus. Boromir’s eyes watered from the impact but he wasted no time pushing the monster aside and rolling onto his hands and knees. He promptly retched. There went his breakfast. Ouch . He hoped his padded gambeson protected his ribs this time, but he wasn’t so sure.

“Boromir!” shouted Merry, who had rolled down the orc’s back during their fall, landed on his arse, and now was the first back up on his feet. “Are you alright?” The hobbit knelt beside the Gondorian and winced at the sight of his battered face.

“I’ll live,” Boromir grunted, breathless and not entirely convinced of his words. Still heaving, but slowly regaining his senses, he spotted an arrow with white feather fletching sprouting from the Uruk’s eye. So that’s what killed the ugly bastard, he thought. Normally Boromir would be annoyed at Prince Legolas for once again showing off and stealing his kill, but this time the archer had likely saved his sorry mortal life, so Boromir decided he would not complain.

He sat up and brushed back his sticky hair, unwittingly smearing orc blood over his forehead in the process. His surcoat, breeches and to some extent his gambeson, were also soaked with ichor. Maimed Uruk-Hai bodies surrounded them, all of them felled by Boromir with the occasional well timed assistance from Merry - hobbitish mischief aside, after weeks of practice they made a good team. Pippin was nearby, trying to free his dagger from under a fallen foe. A few yards to the right he noticed a mightily angry Gimli. Fuming and grumbling, the dwarf was stomping around the battlefield to retrieve his various blades and hatchets from orc corpses. Boromir could very well guess the reason for the dwarf’s grumpiness: the elf stood in the centre of the battlefield, carefully cleaning a bunch of retrieved arrows, tall and smug and without a spot on him. Blasted Edhel , he thought, not a hair out of place. He did not dwell on the comedic potential of Legolas’s blonde mane actually getting ruined in a fight. (If he had learned anything about elves during his time in Imladris, it was that they could be indeed very vain and prone to dramatics). No, he turned his head to scan the perimeter further, searching for someone, some thing in particular.

Where is it, he thought, as he scanned the battlegrounds for signs of Frodo. Immediately he felt a wave of guilt wash over his noisy mind. His first thoughts should be not for the wretched Ring, but for the safety of his companions: of Lady Joanna, and of Frodo, who were the most vulnerable of their party. Alas, he could not help it. Thoughts of the Ring occupied his mind these days more often than not. So long as the Ring is with us, there is yet hope for Gondor, he thought frantically.

But Boromir could not spot the rest of their company on the battleground, and was growing more and more anxious with every heartbeat that passed. When the Orcs had rushed at their party, Boromir had bid Joanna to take refuge between the trees with Frodo and Sam. She was a brave and sensible one, his Lady, and so he knew she would lead the hobbits to safety and defend them if need be. Since when is she my Lady , he chided himself, but he did not get to finish that thought.

“Oh, no!” whined Merriadoc, “look there!” He pointed to the farther end of the clearing that served as their battleground, where Aragorn was crouched between the trees, in a spot somewhat hidden from sight.

Boromir felt bile rise to his throat once again. Aragorn was kneeling, flanked by ashen-faced Frodo and panicking Sam. He was bent over a collapsed figure, pressing cloth to torn flesh.

Joanna.

No, nonononono, please, no! Boromir was not prepared for how deeply the sight of her in peril affected him. He jumped to his feet a little too abruptly and felt his head spin, but he still hurried to where she lay. She had to be alive, she had to ! When he reached the spot, he dropped to his knees beside Samwise, and took in the sight of her, words failed him.

Joanna lay pale in the grass, unconscious, hair and limbs in disarray. Were it not for the belaboured breathing, she would be the very picture of death, and Boromir shuddered as he beheld her. Aragorn had cut open part of her bloodied tunic, exposing a nasty gash just above her hip. It was seeping steadily, and Aragorn was trying to quench the bleeding. Boromir could not take this sight in for long and quickly averted his eyes. He spotted a fallen Uruk-Hai to the side, its body full of slashes that were the telltale mark of Aragorn’s neat bladework.

“What happened?” exclaimed Gimli, who was the last one to rejoin the group, after Legolas and Pippin. All were now surrounding Aragorn, willing to know what had befallen their Lady companion and to be of help. But the ranger did not respond immediately and instead gritted his teeth in quiet frustration.

“One of them spotted our hiding place,” Samwise stammered. “We called out to you lot, but you were engaged in the fight and the clamour was so loud…” The young hobbit trembled. “Lady Joanna wanted to give Mister Frodo a chance to run, she did!”

“… and I got here too late,” finished Aragorn. “Blast it, she’s losing blood!”

Everybody in the party held their breath, as it became apparent that the ranger was about to give his prognosis. Boromir would pray to the Valar in that moment, but for his recent crisis of faith. He no longer believed the so-called Powers of Arda could be of help in this, or in any other matter close to his heart. That, of they simply did not care for the fate of mere mortals. He briefly wondered if the Ring’s magic could somehow heal her, but he dared not ask this out loud. No! He shook his head as if to get rid of that thought. Aragorn would tell us if the Ring could be of help in this, he reassured himself. Alas, they could only rely on the mundane skills of the quiet ranger and Boromir supposed he had to be grateful for even that much.

“I will bind her wound for now, so we can move, but I will have to stitch it properly, and soon, if she is to have a chance,” said Aragorn finally. Boromir released a breath and saw others relax as well. So, she had a chance. He would take what hope he could have from that. Aragorn got down to work promptly, putting pressure to her wound and binding it with bandages, with the aid of fumbling Samwise. Boromir understood that his job at that moment was to make sure the ranger could work in peace. He was startled when he realised that he had forgotten to retrieve his sword from the battlefield, so he went back to the site of the fight to rectify that without delay. Gimli and Meriadoc joined him on the watch, as he cleaned his weapon and monitored the perimeter, glancing over in Aragorn’s direction from time to time. Legolas, however, remained by Aragorn’s side, watchful, growing seemingly more and more tense. That boded ill, Boromir knew.

“We truly cannot remain here, Aragorn,” said Legolas after a while. “It is not safe. I can hear more of them crawling around in the woods, tracking us even now as we linger.”

“Good thing I am done, then,” said the ranger, as he tied the last loose end of the bandage. “This should hold for some time.” He stood and waved the party over. “Legolas, you run ahead and scout for a spot where we could set up camp,” Aragorn commanded with ease. “Boromir, will you carry Joanna, so I can mind the trail? Try not to jostle her too much. Gimli, you guard the rear and make sure no one sneaks up on us.” By that point in their journey it came naturally for them to follow the ranger’s lead, so the party promptly assumed order.

Boromir picked Joanna up the gentlest way he managed and propped her head on his shoulder. He supposed he could pretend she was just asleep if he really tried, but even then the ghastly pallor and her laboured breathing would give away her grave condition. If he could kick himself without tripping, he would. And then kick again, and maybe punch himself, for good measure. Just how could I let that happen? He had thought she and the Ringbearer would be safer in the forest, away from the skirmish, and apparently so had Aragorn. Well, they had thought wrong.

If only it weren’t for the accursed Ring and the foolish plan to bring it to Mordor! he thought bitterly. Once again, he vowed to himself that he would bring the Ring to Minas Tirith and end this madness once an opportunity arose. He chose not to dwell on the fact that doing so would antagonise his comrades, whom he had come to regard with warm feelings and great respect. Maybe he could convince them, sway Aragorn’s judgement… But he had tried that already, and failed. His guts twisted unpleasantly with guilt. Enough about the Ring! There were more pressing problems at the moment. He looked at Joanna’s pale, dewy face and his heart trembled. And what if she doesn’t… Boromir couldn’t bring himself to finish that thought. He focused on following the ranger’s footsteps through the forest and minding the path under his feet, to make Joanna’s journey less uncomfortable.

The march in search of a safe camping spot was passing slowly and every moment was torture. The skin on Boromir’s back crawled, as he fought off the grim thoughts threatening to overwhelm his mind. No one was talking for fear of attracting unwanted attention. Even the ever cheerful hobbits were in gloomy moods, exhausted after the fight and worrying over the party’s safety. Gimli marched beside Boromir and took to touching Boromir’s elbow from time to time in silent reassurance, likely seeing his distress. He would not be so friendly if he knew my heart, Boromir thought, but he was grateful for the gesture all the same, because it helped him resist despair for a little while longer. She will survive this, he would repeat to himself time and time again. Finally they saw Legolas approaching from the path ahead.

“Come quickly, my friends!” the elf signalled them, “I’ve found a sheltered place that will serve us well.” Boromir’s shoulders sagged with relief, but he saw Joanna grimace in her sleep at the movement, so he promptly adjusted his position again.

They followed Legolas, and before long arrived at a small ravine between bulky rocks. The entrance to it was partially concealed by low hanging spruce branches. Boromir carried Joanna into the ravine, careful to avoid the trees’ needles, and set her on the ground. Aragorn was upon her again in an instant, and Sam kneeled down to assist him.

“Boromir, Legolas, could you fetch water?” the ranger ordered absentmindedly and started recovering some obscure herbs from the pouches in his backpack.

Boromir would rather stay at Joanna’s side, and not to lose sight of the Ringbearer if he could help it, but the elf tugged at his arm, and he dared tarry no longer. He and Legolas gathered the canteens from everyone and left the camp in search of water. Their trek was silent initially. Boromir had no idea where the elf was leading them, but he was likely following the murmur of a stream from afar, because his steps were sure.

“Aragorn will mend her,” said Legolas after some time, unprompted. “No need to brood so much.”

Boromir gritted his teeth. “I am not brooding,” he said, and immediately felt embarrassed at how silly he sounded.

“You are consumed with worry, my friend, and you look dreadful” said Legolas to that, in a cheerful tone that somewhat belied the bite of his words. “At this rate, when she wakes, she will faint again from terror when she sees the state you are in.”

“Oh, go fuck a tree,” Boromir snapped. Legolas chuckled at first, clearly glad that his prodding got a reaction, but then grew serious.

“I might just do that,” the elf said and nodded solemnly, then continued walking on the path ahead, leaving the Gondorian flabbergasted. Damned elves and their weird ways and their stupid word games. Most of the time Boromir couldn’t tell if Legolas was being serious or pulling his leg, and he certainly was not going to start seriously pondering whether the Edhil could indeed couple with trees.

When they finally arrived at the stream, Boromir had to admit that, all in all, Legolas’s tomfoolery managed to wrangle him from his bad mood somewhat. He felt the fog gradually lift from his mind. They quenched their thirst first, then Boromir washed away the grime of battle from his head and his hands, while Legolas stepped into the stream with his bare feet and splashed for a little in childlike glee. They both immediately felt better, and the tension dissipated somewhat. They returned to the campsite in companionable silence amidst the creeping dusk that brought the night’s chill with it.

Back at the ravine it became apparent that while they had been gone, the hobbits had been busying themselves with chores. While Aragorn had worked on Joanna’s wound and Gimli had stood watch, the halflings had worked to remove debris from the ravine’s floor and prepared a space for the Fellowship to set down their bedrolls. Boromir and Legolas unburdened themselves and reported to Aragorn. He was just finishing binding Joanna’s midriff with a broad bandage. Boromir resolved to look away to preserve her modesty.

“I have stitched her wound,” said the ranger, “and she bleeds no more. But she has lost a substantial amount of blood. Still, I am almost positive she can make it through the night with our help.”

Hearing that, Boromir was ready to cry with relief. The ranger reached out his hand and Boromir passed him one of the full canteens. Aragorn carefully poured a few drops of water into Joanna’s mouth and massaged her throat to make her swallow. He repeated this a few times, and then stopped and covered her with blankets.

Then he addressed Legolas. “What’s the situation in the woods?”

“Orcs are still about. I could hear them from afar on our way from the stream,” said Legolas. “They are not too close, but they could be drawn here if we are not careful.”

“We cannot risk fire, then,” said Aragorn, as he sank deep in thoughts, frowning. Boromir observed the man keenly, and, to his surprise, Aragorn looked right back at him, with a strange expression. For a second he saw something like a smirk chase through Aragorn’s face and disappear momentarily. Boromir’s trying to deduce the ranger’s thoughts was cut short, as Aragorn announced the evening meal. “We’ll have to make do with dry rations tonight,” he said. Immediately he and Boromir had to shush and appease four whining hobbits, who were decidedly not happy about having to forgo a warm meal.

Samwise compiled a meagre supper - bread, cheese and some vegetables. Each of the Fellowship took their share and they munched together in silence. It was getting chillier as the night swiftly approached, and the party started preparing for bed. The hobbits huddled together in a small hollow at the back of the ravine, a bit secluded from its entrance chamber. The big folk set out their bedrolls in the main space, where Aragorn had earlier organised the healing station for Joanna. Boromir decided to finally ditch his bloodied surcoat as he prepared for sleep, and donned a woollen tunic that he had been carrying in his backpack for the colder weather. He sat down to sort through his things, hoping to find a brooch to clasp it with…

“Boromir,” said Aragorn quietly, as he sat beside, “you and Joanna must share a bedroll tonight,” he announced without much ceremony.

Boromir felt as if someone dumped a bucket of hot water under his collar.

“Pardon?” he said, and his voice sounded pathetically squeaky. He felt his face grow warm and he was suddenly thankful for the darkness. He hoped that Aragorn would drop the issue hearing his indignation, but the ranger persisted.

“She has lost blood, her circulation is weak at the moment. Without a fire she will certainly lose too much warmth during the night, especially come dawn, and run a fever,” he explained patiently. “One of us must sleep near her to fend off the cold.” Aragorn paused and then added, “It should be you, because out of us four I figured she would object to your closeness the least.”

That she would prefer him, and that Aragorn acknowledged it, made Boromir feel warm inside. At the same time it did little to reduce his mortification.

“That makes it more inappropriate, not less,” he groaned.

“Oh?” said Aragorn, this time not even hiding his smirk. “And which one of us would you rather took your place?”

Legolas chuckled. Boromir wished the elf would stop doing that. Joanna was a Lady, it was unfair and improper to laugh at their predicament. Then again, properly, we shouldn’t be having this conversation in the first place, he thought angrily. At the same time, Boromir had to admit, a distinctly unpleasant sensation uncoiled in his stomach at the thought of either of his companions cuddling with Lady Joanna throughout the night. It wouldn’t be right. He could not let that happen, he decided.

“Very well, I will do it,” Boromir drawled.

“I thought as much,” said Aragorn dryly and patted his shoulder. “You take the first watch and let her rest in the meantime. When the time comes, wake me and I’ll help you arrange her on your bedroll.” Aragorn paused and looked Boromir in the eyes. “Do not worry. This is for healing purposes. You are a gentleman, all of us will be here, and one will be on the watch at all times, and so it will be right proper,” the ranger declared with finality.

Is he reassuring me, or lecturing me? … Or was that a threat? Boromir decided he was better off not knowing. He was very much tempted to respond with something snarky, but instead opted to just nod. Suddenly bone-tired, cold, alone and at the mercy of his anxieties, desires and regrets, Boromir sat at the entrance to the ravine and commenced his watch.

✦✦✦

When the time came, Boromir quietly woke Aragorn up. He lay down next to Joanna, and then Aragorn turned her onto her good side, and propped her head on Boromir’s chest, so that she was snuggled to his side and held in place by his arm. Aragorn nodded, satisfied, and covered them both with a blanket.

“Remain like so, and try to get some sleep,” he ordered. Then the ranger took his place by the entrance to the ravine and began his vigil.

Boromir could feel more than hear Joanna’s unsteady breathing, as her soft body was pressed to his side.

Think of unappealing things, Boromir commanded himself. Like… orcs. He thought of how orcs walked. How their blood would splash when he would cut them down with his sword. Wait, that was actually not a little satisfying. Orcs eating the flesh of their victims, then. Oh, that was indeed mighty unappealing. Like Gollum. Boromir thought about the creature’s loony eyes in the dark, about its slimy skin wrinkling over measly bones. He was determined for his thoughts to stay as pure as could be, so he would be able to look Joanna in the eyes when she would come to her senses.

When have I started to think of her like that , Boromir wondered. What did it? Was it the way her flaxen hair would dance in the wind? The healthy glow, the softness of her skin? Was it her sharp wits? How she would often challenge him in unexpected ways… Or was it her kindness? Her capacity for understanding, which had been his saving grace during this journey many a time?

Not for the first time, his mind betrayed him. Unbidden, thoughts and images flooded his consciousness. What if instead of this orc-infested, Valar-forsaken forest, they were in Minas Tirith? In Boromir’s quarters in the Citadel… In his bed… They would be safe from peril, washed, fed and well rested. The Ring would be tucked safely inside Boromir’s shift, and Joanna fast in his arms. Perhaps it wouldn’t be their first night spent like this. He felt his blood warming. Perhaps it could be one of many such nights. It would all come true, if I could but secure the Ring, end this mad quest and this senseless war…

But no! She would not stand for it… Boromir’s throat clenched. Joanna believed in the Fellowship’s quest, she’d been vocal in its support. Would she hate him, if she knew his mind? Would Aragorn? Would Frodo? Such thoughts were almost too painful to bear. Why must Valar test me so? Boromir asked silently. Alas, no answer came.

At least I have this moment, he thought, feeling a bit pathetic, but he could not help it. He let himself savour her warmth and listened to her quiet breathing, which had turned calm and regular. Even if she was unconscious, and even when he was valiantly trying to ignore the images that were coming to him unbidden, prompted by the prolonged physical contact with the woman who held his heart, there was something about Joanna’s quiet presence that soothed Boromir’s nerves. Gradually, he abandoned the thoughts of the Ring, of his conflicting loyalties, and of the loss and drama that likely awaited him. Being near her, having her like this, it turned for Boromir into a silent, meditative moment of respite, one for which he was infinitely grateful. He didn’t even notice when sleep overtook him after the day’s exertions and adventures.

✦✦✦

Boromir awoke startled when Joanna stirred in his arms, her breathing turned erratic, and he could feel her tense and jerk. Is she plagued by bad dreams? he wondered. He hoped she wasn’t re-living the attack from yesterday in her nightmare.

“Shhhhhh,” he tried to calm her, and instinctively squeezed her lightly with his arm to hold her down. It made her hiss in pain and he quickly relaxed his hold again. “Forgive me,” he whispered.

“Boromir?” she asked weakly, “what is happening?”

For a heartbeat Boromir wanted to sing. She was awake! He could kiss Aragorn right then and there for stitching her up yesterday and applying his weird weed to her wounds. Or, better yet, he could kiss her, for coming back to him. Then he regained awareness of his exact current position and the delicate task of breaking the news to her, which he was now facing.

“Joanna, you were wounded and we set camp for the night… and I… and Strider…” he forced himself to halt his panicked blabbing.

She paused her stirring. Her head was on his chest and he realised that she could likely hear how fast his heart was beating. Was she confused? Afraid? Appalled? Or… was their closeness welcome to her? The uncertainty of her feelings fuelled his anxiety.

“Boromir, why are we…?” she asked slowly, very deliberately leaving the question open ended. Her small hand tightened around a fistful of his woollen tunic.

Boromir was no stranger to women, and there had been a time in his life when he had even considered himself well-versed in their ways. Alas, perhaps due to all the recent pressure he was subject to, in that moment his wits failed him. He blurted out the first thing that came to his mind.

“Aragorn made me do it.”

Legolas’ irreverent snort of laughter coming from the next bedroll was his only immediate response.

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