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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

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Hii hope you're having a lovely day

Can I get a forced proximity,fake dating smut with Eddie Munson and the phrase "come on I won't bite, unless you're into that"

this was such a fun prompt! below is 4k of eddie and r just being adorable as hell. warnings: fluff; barely edited because i’m at work and die like bob in the docs; fem!reader; smut, so 18+ minors dni.

It was supposed to be simple: show up to your ex's wedding with a date, so that way your friends from college wouldn’t look at you with pitying gazes that clearly said, “Look at the poor, sad, tragically lonely girl.”

For the record, you were none of those things. And maybe it was a little dramatic to think that way. Also yeah, maybe you received those questions from time to time—asked innocently enough, usually—when you planned on settling down, but what if you never wanted to?

But pretending, at the time, to be in a relationship seemed easier than avoiding all of those questioning stares and probing comments.

It had been Max’s idea, actually; you’d been helping tutor her for a college math test when she noticed the invitation on the fridge and you’d laughed about how it was your ex and you still frequented the same friend group, which meant being invited to his wedding was an absolute. You murmured to her in confidence that you really weren’t excited about going; mentioned you were the only one in your college friend group who hadn’t been married off yet or popped out a kid (you shuddered to think of either of the two).

“Why not bring a fake boyfriend or something?” She asked. It seemed so…silly at first. You’d arched a brow in her direction and chuckled to yourself, the tip of your pencil tapping against her loose leaf notebook absentmindedly. At your confusion, she proceeded, “You know? Ask Steve or Argyle…Eddie.”

“Don’t say Eddie like that,” you grumbled, chewing at the eraser tip.

The redhead flicked one of her braids over her shoulder, shrugging. “Don’t say Eddie like what?”

“How you did just now! You didn’t just say Eddie,” you explained, dropping your pencil down onto the paper. “You said Eddie. Like you’re insinuating something.”

“Yeah, like the big freaking crush you’ve had on him since you two were in high school together—”

“Your answer to number five is wrong.”

Max snorted. And that was that.

Luckily, Eddie’s amicable as he always is. When you suggest coming as your date, he’s quick to ask for times to pick you up and requesting the attire for the event. It’s an evening wedding, and he shows up in a dark suit that matches the color of his hair. The same suit that now rests over the back of his chair, the sleeves of his shirt beneath rolled up to the elbow, revealing endless whirls of tattoos he’s collected over the years since he graduated high school.

He’s—well, Eddie on a normal day is breathtaking. All dark hair that falls in waves to his shoulders, broad smiles, dark eyes that can see through your soul. Charming as hell, and just as charismatic. He’s the kind of person that brightens every room he walks into and graces with his presence.

Eddie at a wedding?

You’re practically heaving into your champagne glass with how disturbingly—and unfairly—handsome he looks, but he can’t know that, so you play it off that you’ve danced one too many songs and need a moment to collect yourself.

“Think the plan is working?” He muses, leaning over to sip at your glass. “Think we’ve fooled enough people so grandma over there can stop clutching her pearls asking if you’ve accepted your spinsterhood?”

Honestly, the whole fake dating thing isn’t as bad as you initially thought. Eddie’s been ever the gentleman, holding open doors, holding your hand, holding the side of your hip. It’s great for the optical illusion you’re trying to portray, but it’s terrible for the ever painful kick-thump throb of your heart in your chest.

“Why? You wanna get out of here?” You likely can. You’ve stayed for the ceremony, most of dinner. You’ve even danced with Eddie a bit on the dance floor, introduced him to a few of your college friends, let him press a kiss to your cheek during the ‘couple’s dance’ after he’d suggested you try on the lips and you nearly broke an ankle, tripping up in your movements from the mere suggestion of doing something so insane. “We could always head back to the hotel room?”

Oh—and therein lay the other problem aside from your cardiovascular symptoms as a direct result of Eddie’s proximity: the hotel reservation somehow got all mixed up and you only afforded yourselves one bed.

One.

Singular.

Eddie had reassured the front desk employee that it was no issue, but you’d slapped your card onto the countertop and asked—admittedly pleaded—if they could check again for another room. It was with pitying gazes that they advised, because of the wedding, all the other available rooms were full. Which left you and Eddie with a king size bed for the night.

“It’s fine,” Eddie had teased, tossing pillows down the center of the bed after both tossed all of your things onto the floor. “Here’s our bundling board. You better not try to jump my bones in my sleep now.”

The thought itself has your thighs sliding together, mind swimming as your friend’s ring clad fingers trail against your forearm, drawing you back to reality. You turn with a ‘huh,’ your eyes meeting his as he says, “I’m fine with that if y—”

You’re interrupted by the sound of Clarissa, your ex’s new bride, calling your name from another table away. You’ve been friends with her for years, studied in the same program for your undergrad degree, and remained as such even after she came to you one day in the library and asked if it would be okay to date Jared. And it was; you’d been broken up for some months, anyway, after all. All adults who could handle weird circumstances.

Just like right now, as Jared joins his new bride’s side and extends a hand to greet Eddie. “Is this the guy that swept our friend here off her feet? Nice to meet you…”

“Eddie,” Eddie says, reaching over to grasp Jared’s hand and shake it. He’s just as charming when Clarissa leans down and urges you both forward in tight hugs, giggling brightly over how nice the two of you look and blushing when Eddie speaks again saying, “You look beautiful. Congrats, you two.”

“Congrats you two,” Clarissa practically trills, clapping excitedly. She mouths over Eddie’s shoulder, “He’s gorgeous.”

You can only pathetically shrug in agreement before Jared’s asking how the two of you met and Eddie tugs you so close to him you’re practically sitting on his lap. Your hand manages to grip his thigh to steady yourself when your chair wobbles, and his palm swallows yours upon doing so. He lifts it up to his mouth to brush a gentle kiss against the back of it. Your skin bursts to life with a thousand bubbles dancing along your skin, though you chalk it up to the champagne buzzing in your system.

Heat coils again as he turns to look at you, brown eyes fathomless as he says, “Back in high school. She walked into first period math class and she waved at me and I knew it was all over after that. But we only recently realized we wanted to be more than friends; figured it was about time to take a chance. Best choice I’ve made in a long time, really. Now we’re inseparable. Unbreakable. Insatiable—”

You elbow him slightly, cutting his words off. “Insatiable, Ed?”

Clarissa and Jared are none the wiser. The both of them only lean into one another, Clarissa glowing with her bridal beauty and Jared looking like he’s fallen in love with her all over again as Eddie regales them with your fake relationship origin story.

“Can you act like you actually like me?” He grumbles near your temple, that palm curling around your hip again to draw you even closer. Heat coils in your belly once more as that mouth drops lower, hot breath fanning along the shell of your ear, his voice a husk of, “Relax. I won’t bite…unless you’re into that.”

So, maybe you can’t swallow the breathy sigh that punches its way up your throat. And maybe your thighs clench beneath the table. But they’re all mere side effects to the man hypnotizing everyone around him with his charm, casualties of the battle waging war behind your ribcage. Even so, the damage is done; the carnage remaining in the wake of your inner turmoil is evident in the slow curl of his lips, the proud smirk lining those presently devilish features.

He’s thoroughly enjoying himself—enjoying the effects his presence has on you, even under the guise of pretending you’re something you’re not. So if your eyes roll in your skull when he leans down and presses a barely-there kiss beneath your ear, it’s only because he’s really wonderful at the elaborate facade you’ve both concocted.

It’s only because, over the years of being DM, he’s perfected the art of performance.

It’s that and nothing more.

Call the casual touches and flirting throughout the night side effects of a few glasses of champagne and loosened inhibitions. Call the glances across the dance floor nothing more than intrigue and longing for a ‘what if?’ Call the brush of his fingers against your skin, the press of lips, the hand on your hip nothing more than part of an act. Because that’s all it is.

Or so you think and have conditioned yourself to think.

But that tension lingers long after Clarissa and Jared wish you well. It lingers in the breaths filling the elevator on your way back to the room, it seeps into the pauses in your conversation. It grows and curls like a bowstring in your belly, drawn tight when Eddie slides the key into your hotel room door and pushes it open.

“If I didn’t know any better, Munson, I would have thought you were flirting with me earlier,” you hum, a casual laugh breaking into the otherwise quiet of your newfound privacy with the man, toeing off your heels near the door. “And the little speech about how we started ‘dating’ was really convincing. Either that or you should reconsider a career in acting.”

“What if I was, though?” His voice is soft. Softer than it’s been all night, a tremulous breath that makes your stomach clench. “Flirting with you, I mean.”

Before you, you can see two options laid out on a platter: you push into unknown territory, a world of possibility should you choose to open your heart to him; or, you brush his affection aside and preserve what you already have, not wishing to disrupt the balance of your life as you know it.

Eddie is friends with your friends.

You’re friends with his friends.

When lines become blurry, relationships are put at risk. Sides might need to be taken. There are other people involved outside of the two of you. But a louder thought rings true. An understanding that it’s Eddie. Eddie, who has only ever put your own needs above his. Always first. Wanted what was best for you at all times. Would it, then, be such a terrible thing to be selfish just this once?

“If you were…” you begin, stepping across the room to meet him where he stands. Your fingers trail up to his tie, the dark red material like blood sifting through your fingers, “did you mean it? The story too?”

“Since first period math class senior year—well, your senior year. My first senior year.” He chuckles uneasily, palm moving to slide over the span of his shoulder, easing at a knot. Watches you slide your fingers up along the fabric, moving up to help loosen the knot around his neck. You fumble with it for a moment, his breath spilling across your forehead, your bottom lip between your teeth when he rasps out, “Can I kiss you?”

And you’re nodding your head rapidly, gasping as his hand slides up to rest against the small of your back, guiding your frame closer to him. You practically ooze into his chest, bodies warm and humming with anticipation as he walks you backward over toward the bed and groans into your bottom lip presently pinched between his teeth as you tug at his tie and drag him into the cradle of your thighs down to where you lay in a sprawl of limbs against the mattress.

“Oh…” He pauses in his ministrations, breaking apart with a gasp despite your whines of protest to run a palm along the mattress. You flop down onto your back as the man presses the same palm against the topper, watching it shift and move beneath his weight. “Oh this is nice. Much better than my shitty one back home.”

“Eddie…” His head jolts back your way, as if he remembers you’re lying beneath him, waiting for him to help you out of your dress, and drops a kiss down against the curve of your neck. You hum to yourself and grasp his chin, dragging his mouth near to yours. He brushes your lips once, twice, and you tell him, panting, “I really like you, Eddie.”

He sighs as your hands finally help free the tie from around his neck and you toss the fabric into the far corner of the room, fingers dropping down to start working on the line of buttons down his chest inch by inch until you’re met with dark ink and a trail of hair against the bump of his stomach that disappears into his waistband and has you leaning forward to press a kiss to his exposed sternum. Beneath you can feel the rapid thrum of his heart, can taste the salt on his skin, flesh still warm from all your dancing in the wedding hall.

He’s climbing over to the top of the bed, bringing you with him, and rearranging the two of you so you can lay side by side. One of his palms starts a gentle slide up your back to grasp at the zipper pulled all the way to your neckline. His eyes implore yours briefly, a gentle exchange with no words, and your head dips. The sound of the metal dragging down your spine reaches your ears, fabric soon pooling around your ankle before he’s tossing it over onto the far corner of his room with the rest of both your clothes.

You take a moment to look at one another. Eyes roving across skin, fingers following in their wake. He trails his fingers along your shoulder, down the path of your sternum, swirls a circle around the soft skin of your abdomen until your sides shake with laughter. You watch those exhausted eyes of his trail along the curve of your hip, the bend of your knee, the crux between your thighs. Nearly gasp into his collar bone when he hikes a thigh over his hip and draws you in for another kiss, and you can feel the hot press of him briefly—albeit too briefly—against your center.

Those kisses, burning with a fresh fervor, draw breathless sighs from your lips. His words against your skin, telling you how beautiful you are, how he’s wanted this moment, how he wants to watch you fall apart against his fingers when he asks if he can touch you have you mewling with want, shuddering at the first brush of his fingers through your slick, warm and welcome between your thighs.

But it’s in that languid exploration that the two of you start to slow down, champagne bubbles that still linger in both your bellies making your eyes more and more tired with each passing moment, fingers becoming gentler, lingering longer. He sighs when you lean over to brush a kiss against his throat and suck, but it settles in the air and you can’t help the airy giggle that spills from your lips when one of his hands waves lackadaisical in the air as you ask, “Falling asleep on me, Munson?”

“No—no,” he groans. He presses a gentle kiss to your throat, and feels your pulse skitter beneath your skin. “Jus’ g’me a second. Wanna make you feel good.”

It’s a shame, a sin really, how even in his tired, partially blissed out state, Eddie Munson still has the power to make your insides liquify. Especially when those eyes start to flutter as he tries to focus his attention on you, lashes lingering longer and longer against the tops of his cheekbones in his efforts to stay awake.

With one last press of your mouth against his, you slide off the bed and help yank down the comforter enough so he can crawl inside, sleepy sighs spilling from his tattooed chest. Satisfied, you clamber in beside him and smile to yourself as that same chest aligns against your spine, arm looping low around your waist, and you both drift into a slumber.

It’s early when you wake again. Sunlight starts to filter in through the windows, the clock to your left reading seven in the morning. Luckily, it’s a Saturday and your check out time isn’t until eleven, which means more than enough room to shower and get ready to head back home to Hawkins. You’re about to clamber out of bed when you feel Eddie’s hand against your stomach shift. Butterflies burst to life at the gentle caress of his skin against yours, fluttering away only seconds later when the man in question grumbles, “Oh shit. Oh shit, sweetheart. I fell asleep.”

“You did,” you giggle, your calf brushing along the hairs lining his own. He groans, face pressing between your shoulder blade, hips flush against your ass and you continue, “It’s okay, though. You were tired.”

“We were…and I was…shit.” He huffs against your skin, hooking his chin over your shoulder to then brush a kiss against the plushness of your cheek. Then once more in that space beneath your ear that has you shuddering against him.

He starts a slow path along the side of your neck, laving kiss after kiss into your flesh, trailing down your shoulder. He starts to mark his way back upward, igniting every inch of you with a fresh fire when you gasp out, “We, ahh—mmm—still have a few hours before we need to leave.”

For emphasis, to really drive home your wishes in the moment, you slide your thigh up and over his, your hips moving backward to press needily against where you know he’s hard already. Those talented hands of his that strum along his guitar at the countless Corroded Coffin shows you’ve been to begin to work a slow path up your thigh, calluses tantalizing against skin. You push back harder against him, feeling his returning roll of hips against your ass, seeking out friction, craving release. But you have all morning.

You have time for the gentle slide of his fingers down the front waistband of your panties, the whine you release as his middle finger parts your center from entrance to clit, drawing out three slow circles that have you nearly begging him to fuck you right then and there. Still, he’s patient. Takes his time stroking against your center, listening as you coach him through what feels good, telling him to speed up, slow down. His other hand, not occupied with drawing out your pleasure, grips yours and slides it against the pillow nearest your head, a chuckle spilling from his lips when your head turns and you whimper into your pillow, asking him for what you need.

“What did you just say, sweetheart?” He murmurs against your bare shoulder, hissing when your hips push back into his hardened cock. “Tell me what you want.”

“Mmm—” He slides a finger inside you, drawing a slow circle, opening you around the digit before adding another. He repeats the question, low and sensuous in your ear, a purr that has your eyes pinching shut. “Want you inside me, Ed. Want you, want—”

Those fingers at your center slip from you, your chest heaving as he reaches over onto the nightstand nearest to his side of the bed and fishes out a blessed foil packet. You hear him hastily tear it open, the bed shifting and dipping in his efforts, before he’s pressing his chest back along your spine and hiking your thigh up and over his. The hand previously holding yours against the pillow above you slides back into your own, and your vision blurs out around the edges as he pushes your panties aside and drags himself through your folds from behind, catching on your clit, before slipping inside.

Your mingling hisses at the initial stretch of him turn into quiet moans as he starts to pick up his pace. He pastes sticky kiss after sticky kiss into your shoulder as that hand of his moves around to slide against your throat, shifting your head up and away from the pillow you’ve buried it within. Your eyes meet his, and between the constant roll of his hips as he moves within you, the fingers splaying across your neck, and the words he babbles into your lips about how tight you are, how good you feel, how you’re doing so good for him, it all quickly become too much.

He catches the flicker across your features, the way your sounds pick up in frequency, the rasp of your breath through your lungs. Against your lips he mutters, “Come on, sweetheart. Touch yourself for me, okay? Wanna watch you.”

And you’re quick to do as your told, palm sliding down your stomach until two fingers meet your clit, rubbing in the way you know you like, matching the frantic pace of Eddie’s hips, pulling back and then slamming into you again and again, driving you closer and closer to utter bliss.

“Oh—fuck—I’m so close, baby.” His fingers around your neck tighten, lips pressing against the corner of yours as you work yourself in tandem with him, the sound of skin slapping together muffling the cries spilling through your parted lips. “Tell me you’re close.”

You come before him, nails pressing down to etch crescents into the hand holding yours above your head, murmuring his name over and over again like a prayer as his lips claim yours once more and swallow the moan he lets out as his body jerks a few times and then stills behind you, shallow breaths puffing hot and frantic into your kiss.

When you both finally catch your breath, and you roll over and turn into him, he pulls you close to his chest and grins into your shoulder, asking, “What are you doing next weekend?”

And it’s that next weekend, at Jonathan and Nancy’s wedding, that you go as a real couple this time.

You don’t even give Max and Lucas shit for giving you a thumbs up when they think Eddie isn’t looking.

(protect myself from readmore)

#eddie munson x reader #Eddie munson x you #eddie munson x female reader #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader smut #eddie munson one shot #eddie munson fanficton #eddie munson fluff #luna’s words #lunas1kfollowercelebration🌙

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kpopggs · 3 months

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LUNA ♡ RED LIGHT ERA for anon

#luna #park sunyoung #f(x)#fx #femaleidolsedit #femaleidol #goldeneragirls #userdahyun #ninqztual #forvy #tw flashing #by us #by psyoungs

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techtechonmymind · 1 year

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#f(x)#luna #park sunyoung #lu 🌕#ladygunn

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kohappink · 5 months

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..・ヾ(。＞＜)シ Hot Summer

#f(x)#fx #gif #my gifs #2nd gen #f x #krystal #amber #victoria #sulli #luna #kpop gif #femaleidolsedit #femaleidol #kgoddesses #femadolsedit

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qilinkisser · 2 months

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Oh wow, look at this leak I found! Isn't it weird that Heartstitch never actually got added to the show, but there's proof of them being added to episodes? How strange :P (Base)

Reblogs appreciated! Luna (left) uses she/her! Heartstitch (right) uses they/them!

Taglist: (Ask/dm to be added/removed)

@cafecouple @frozenhi-chews @myinfluencerboyfriend @botanists-little-cookie @singsofsilver @yumemp3 @starboy-ships @hippie-self-shippie @muppetyluv @mashyaoi @yoomtahsgf @freyneuvis @cherry-bomb-ships @unconsious-requiem @charkittykelly @elesakisser @shyinlovez @rainbow-beetle-ships @kiawren @seahydra @snailchans-kitty @sunflawyer

#art 🎨#luna 🌙#heartstitch 🧸#selfship art #selfship #self shipping #safeship #safeshipping #mlp selfship #wlw selfship #nblw selfship #romantic f/o #oc x canon #f/o x s/i

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nu-abo-misser · 9 months

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engel-s · 3 months

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f(x) concept

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yourlocalmerchgirl · 2 months

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The War Within - Part One

Briefly Joel x Neurodivergant Reader Then Tommy x Neurodivergant wife reader

Summary: You've only been with Joel for 6 months when the outbreak happens, flipping your entire life into a hell scape. Feeling backed into a corner and completely suffocated by life you decide to join the Fireflies with Tommy after a heartbreaking event to search for a better life and the two of you end up in Jackson

A twist of fate happens and you and Tommy Fall in love and get married when Joel and Ellie turn up in Jackson one day and you have to face him all these years later

Warnings: 18+ MDNI, Angst- Lots of it, Verbal fighting- lots of it , course language, emotional, some fluff and happiness, talks of anxiety, depression, Panic attacks, Neurodivergant reader. No use of y/n. Reader goes by the nickname Birdie. Use of typical pet name.

A/N: I hope you all love this new multi part journey I've been working on, I'm extremely proud of this story. I understand that this storyline/ themes aren't for everyone. Part Two will be out shortly.

More often then not you felt like you were outside of your body, floating above it.

Being a spectator to your own life, watching as your dissociative cocoon wrapped itself around you taking hold.

You found yourself in this position for days or weeks at a time. It was your body’s way of protecting itself after years of constantly being in fight or flight mode.

You looked on as you desperately tried to hold on to what little you had left, to your life with Joel. But it was like trying to hold on to a wet rope in the middle of a tsunami. Slowly losing your grip you began to drown, fighting desperately to stay above water. The more you tried to kick to the surface, the more tired you became and the more tired you became the less you fought to stay afloat.

Time dragged on, the air had a thickness to it you’d not yet felt. Everything sounded slow and muffled as you tried to make sense of why and how long you two had been fighting for.

“Are you even listening to me?” Joel pressed, getting more aggravated by the minute.

He got nothing as you blankly stared back him, eyes glazed over.

“Unbelievable…. I should be looking after Sarah, not looking after you”

Joel’s words snapped you back to reality. the fog that incased you not thick enough to protect you from the verbal blow as it struck you, deep and abrupt.

Your whole body burned, the tears started falling so quickly that you had no hope of stoping them even if you tried. The two of you often hastily said things to each other in the heat of the moment when you both reached the point of overstimulation. Things that neither of you meant. But this, this felt different. You knew the tone of Joel’s voice well, always able to understand his meaning by the tone of his voice. His tone was razor sharp, with an anger behind it that he had never used with you before.

“This is why we can’t talk things out like this, why nothing gets resolved. Because you cry every-time we have a argument”

“Are you fucking kidding me Joel?” You shout. Completely losing all ability to keep it in.

“Im sorry I care, that I’m emotional. Trust me I would much rather feel nothing 24/7 than to feel everything as if it’s a electrical currant passing through me, but I can’t. No matter how fucking hard I try I’m always going up be sensitive and emotional.”

“The state of the world doesn’t exactly lend its self to being emotional, one wrong move when your heads not focused could cost someone there life. You- you get stuck in these episodes and it’s like your not in your body anymore, I can’t keep keepin an eye on us both. You’re gonna get us killed one of these days.”

It hurts like hell, but it’s the truth and deep down you know it. But it doesn’t make you any less hurt and angry because it’s the truth either.

“I’m sorry Joel. I’m sorry that I should of died instead of Sarah, I’m sorry that no matter what I do I’ll never be enough for you.”

Your admission stuns Joel, your words cutting him like a straight blade razor. You’d never said anything like that about yourself, atleast not out loud you hadn’t.

“I can’t fucking talk to you when we’re like this. I’m going out” Joel exclaims while grabbing his coat.

“Wait, it’s almost curfew, where are you going?” You ask, everything but concern draining from your body.

“I don’t know? I’m just fucking going out, don’t wait up for me” Joel says as he slams the door

“I love you” you shout after him, but if falls on deaf ears.

You cried in silence, thinking about what had lead you to this point. You and Joel never had the chance to truly be happy. Your relationship was so new when the outbreak happened that it was doomed from the start. You two never had the chance to fully open up to each other

It wasn’t all his fault either, Joel was hardened by the cruel bitch that was the universe when it took the one thing he loved more than life itself. You also knew you weren’t easy to deal with, never getting the opportunity to talk to Joel about your anxiety and depression that stemmed from it. About how to spot if you were getting overstimulated and anxious and how to help talk you down from it. Or about how much you relied on a schedule and a routine to navigate life and how much progress you’d made with it all in therapy. Instead you were both thrust into a situation you didn’t have the tools to deal with and thus your relationship suffered at the hands of it.

The further past curfew it got the more you worried about Joel. It terrified you to think about the situations that would unfold if he was caught by Fedra. Dressing in all dark clothing you decided to go out searching for Joel.

Lurking in the shadows for hours you search for Joel, checking every inch of the qz and the seedy areas people hangout after curfew with no luck. The sun will start coming up soon, so you head back to the apartment hoping Joel managed to stumble back there unscathed.

You hear some commotion inside as you reach your apartment door. Slowly opening the door you feel like the wind got knocked out of you when you see Joel burred deep inside Tess, telling her how much he loved her. You stumble backwards as you try to catch your breath, refusing to believe you’re actually seeing this. But the scene before you never changes and your forced to realize this is unfolding in front of your eyes. Silently scrambling you grab your emergency go bag by the door and shut it behind you.

Your mind is racing as you slid down the wall and slump over. Gasping for breath you try desperately to comprehend what you saw, trying think quickly about what to do.

——————————————————————

Tommy springs awake at the sound of frantic knocking on the door. Creeping up slowly to the door, pistol in his hand.

“Who is it?”

“I-it’s me…it’s Birdie” your voice meek and distraught, tone barely above a whisper.

Tommy quickly unlocks the door to find you on the other side, eyes bloodshot and and desperate. Your body langue is defeated as Tommy notices your backpack.

“C-can I come in?” You ask, a hoarseness to your voice. Your eyes trained on the ground.

“Birdie, what’s wrong? Everything alright?” His face etched with concern as he looks you over.

“ Is- is there any way to join the fireflies quickly. To- to be able to leave the QZ with you guys tonight?”

“You get Joel to join the fireflies?”

“No n-not Joel, for me..just me” you shake your head. Your voice shakes as you speak. Your head hung low, eyes glued to your feet.

“Look at me Birdie” Tommy says gingerly, cupping your chin with his thumb and index finger, gently lifting your head to meet his gaze.

“Did he hurt you? He didn’t hit you did he?” He asked in a firm but calm tone while turning your face side to side to check for visible marks.

Tommy didn’t believe Joel was capable of laying a hand on you like that but he needed to make sure. His brother had become more angry and violet over the years. Drinking more and pushing home made drugs to some of the fedra guards and he was starting not to recognize the man Joel was becoming.

You shook your head.

“Hurt me yes, hit me no. We’ve been hurting each other for to long and I just can’t handle it anymore. I- I can’t live like this anymore and the two if you are the only people I trust.”

“Does he know your leavin’?”

“If they will let me go I’ll go in slip a note I wrote under the door. If not i don’t know what I’ll do”

“Let’s go talk to them. I’m not sure what’s goin’ on between the two of you but I’m not leavin you here like this, but I’m also not going to press you about what’s goin’ on if you don’t want to talk about it”

“ I’ll talk about it eventually Tommy I just can’t talk about it right now much less think about it, I’m just in to much pain”

————————————————————

It’s nearly dusk when Joel wakes up, rolling over to wrap his arm around you.

“I don’t want to fight like that anymore baby girl” Joel says as he nuzzles into your neck, but his eyes snap open the moment he realizes somethings off, that you scent is different. That’s when realizes the grave mistake he made when he sees it’s Tess in your bed and not you.

“What the fuck is going on” Joel shouts while pushing himself out of bed.

“What the fuck are you doing here? Where’s Birdie?”

“You didn’t seem to be complaining a couple hours ago that she wasn’t here”

It’s in this moment as Joel feels the color drain from his face that he’s made a detrimental mistake. That he hadn’t been with you at all last night, that it wasn’t you when he’d finally said I love you.

Joel immediately starts putting his boots on to go looking for you. His motions panicked and scrambled.

“You heard me, I said get the fuck out and don’t come back”

As Joel slams the door he hears paper crinkle under his boot, he steps back to see a folded piece of paper with his name on it just inside the door. He unfolds it yo find a note from you.

Dear Joel,

I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for the pain and frustration I’ve caused you over the years. The way we’ve been living isn’t healthy for either of us and just can’t stomach it any longer. You don’t deserve to be worried about both of us constantly because I can’t handle life in the dystopian universe well. You said if anything were to ever happen to go to Tommy that he take care of me so rest easy knowing that right up until the end I listened to you. I’ve joined the fire flies with him and by the time you see this we will have left the QZ in search of a better living situation. Tommy will message you here and there on the radio. You and Sarah will always have a place on my heart.

Love,

Birdie

Anger and failure blend together in a unrelenting weight on Joel’s chest as he flips the kitchen table over, papers flying everywhere, glass breaking.

—————————————————————-

About 10 years later

Tommy is up on the scaffolding when he hears the unmistakable tone of his brothers voice

“Tooommmyyyy”

Tommy runs down the stairs as Joel’s jumps from the horse he’s on and the share in a tight embrace.

“The fuck you doin here?”

“I came to save you guys”

Tommy and Maria take Joel and Ellie into the mess hall for a meal. As Tommy’s taking his coat and gloves off he slips his ring into his pocket, not ready to tell Joel that the two of you are in love, that you’d gotten married. Not wanting to have the conversation in front of everyone. Emotions swirl around Tommy’s head, on one hand he’s happy to see his brother on the other hand fear and resentment in not knowing what kind of person his brother is these days.

“I trust the two of you would like some time alone, I’ll take Ellie up to the house to shower and set her up with clothes and then take her to the town movie night” Maria says

“It’s ok Ellie you can go with her, it’ll be alright”

“ Tommy a word in private before you do so?”

“Is Birdie going to be alright?”

“I think she’s going to be a bit shaken, she has therapy tonight and I know she’ll be home right now unwinding so she won’t just bump into him. Imma make sure she knows tonight that he’s here.”

—————————————————————

“It doesn’t look like you’ve aged much” Joel says taking a seat at the bar of the tipsy bison, nervously smoothing his hand over it.

“You on the other hand” Tommy offers.

“Is she here? Is Birdie alive?” Joel asks nervously

“Yes she’s here in Jackson”

“Where is she? I want to see her” Joel presses

“Now slow down Joel, ya can’t just waltz in here and demand to see her”

“ The fuck I can’t! You ain’t her keeper. I have the right to see her”

“I’m not her keeper nor am I trying to be, all I’m trying to say is she’s made a lot of progress since we’ve been here. Her health and well being has improved 10 fold thanks to therapy.”

“Therapy?”

“One of our residents here used to be a therapist before the outbreak so we built her a place to practice out of and birdie goes every week like she did before the outbreak”

“She went to therapy before? I didn’t know that”

“And I suppose you never asked either”

Tommy’s comment gets under Joel’s skin. Bringing up resentment that had be just below the surface.

“So what’s this have to do with you tellin’ me I can’t see Birdie?”

Tommy let’s out a frustrated huff at Joel’s pressing. He doesn’t want to argue with his brother, they havnt seen each other in so long the last thing he wants to do is get into a fight. But Tommy’s one and only goal is protecting you and he will be as harsh as he has to be to get Joel to understand, even if he doesn’t like the answers.

“Because Joel you just arrived with a mystery kid, she has no idea your even here. You just turning up at her door with no notice would have her shaken, set back her mental health. She deserves to atleast know your here. To make her own decision on wether or not she wants to see you”

“So what are you really doing out here Joel? What’s with the kid?”

“She needs to go to this firefly base out here so Marlene hired me to bring her out here. And I took the job so I could get out here and save you guys.”

“Why did you think we needed saving?”

“I don’t know Tommy maybe because the two of you guys stopped fucking messaging me back. Because Marlene said you weren’t with the fireflies anymore. It must be because your girl keeps you on a short leash.”

“Maria? It is because of a rule we put In place here but she ain’t my girl. We started having some rough people coming through because they found out about us from radio activity so we had to be more careful and only use it for emergency’s.”

“ Let me show you where you guys will be staying so you can rest, clean up and go to the town movie night if you’d like.”

—————————————————————

Tommy can’t help but smile about the way you look up from your book when he walks through the door, food from the mess hall in his hands.

“Hey baby” you coo, the smile on your face lighting up the room when you see him.

“Hey sweet girl, sorry I’m home a lil late. But I have your favorite, it was Shepards pie night at the mess hall.”

You get up to take the food containers from him, placing them on the counter as he wraps his arms around you.

“How did therapy go to today babe?” Tommy asks as he kisses your temple.

“It went good, just exhausted by it tonight”

After dinner your curled up on the couch with your head in his lap asking him about his day.

“Baby I need to tell you something” Tommy breaths out his voice hardly above a whisper.

“Ok… is everything ok?” You ask starring up at him.

“I’m afraid it’s probably going up upset you” Tommy says rubbing the back of his neck nervously.

“What is it Tommy?” You ask as you sit up. Mind racing with what it could be.

“Joel’s here, in Jackson”

Taglist:

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@miniatureangelhoundsoul @nopenopenope10484 @harryscumcloth @morgaussy, @kalllistos @spikershoyo @musings-of-a-rose @alongfortheridereader

#fanfic #tommy miller #gabriel luna #the last of us #tommy miller x reader #pedro pascal #neurodivergent #joel miller #tommy tlou #joel miller x reader #joel miller x f!reader #tommy miller x f!reader

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astarionsonly · 21 days

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scarborough fair. gale dekarios.

ღ prompt: healing herbs heal hearts as well. ➷ synopsis: going with gale to the market to collect various herbs for your potions, ends with the healing of your hearts as well. <3

: ̗̀➛ under the crisp morning sun, you and gale set out for Scarborough Fair, the bustling market known for its vibrant array of herbs and medicinal plants.

as you weaved through the stalls, the scent of various herbs mingled in the air, filling your senses with their earthy aroma.

“which herbs do you need today?" gale asked, his gaze flickering with curiosity as he scanned the various displays.

you smiled, feeling a sense of warmth at his genuine interest. "a bit of sage, some lavender, and perhaps a sprig of thyme," you replied, listing off the ingredients for your latest potion.

together, you ventured from stall to stall, carefully selecting the freshest herbs and exchanging lighthearted banter along the way. with each herb you collected, you couldn't help but notice how gale's presence seemed to brighten the day, his easygoing nature soothing your soul.

as you reached the end of the market, your baskets filled with an assortment of herbs, he turned to you with a soft smile.

“it’s been a long time since i had such a good time doing something so mundane with someone close to me. thank you, truly.”. you nodded, feeling a swell of gratitude for the companionship gale offered. in his presence, the weight of the world seemed to lift, replaced by a sense of serenity.

with the sun casting a golden glow over the market, you and gale made your way back home, the herbs in your baskets a tangible reminder of the bond you shared. as you brewed your potions together, the gentle rhythm of your movements echoed the pitter - patter of your hearts. seems like the potion wasn’t the only thing brewing between you two…

#baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldurs gate 3 x tav #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate gale #gale x tav #gale x reader #gale dekarios #gale dekarios x reader #gale dekarios fanfic #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #gale being a sweetheart #baldurs gate 3 x f!reader #gale x f! reader #gale dekarios x f! reader #gale of waterdeep #gale of waterdeep x reader #gale of waterdeep fanfic #𓏲 ๋࣭ ࣪ ˖☁️ luna writes

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abibliophobiaa · 1 year

Text

Bad Idea - s.h. x f!reader

note: thank you to @crappymixtape for the initial prompt that started this fun little fic. <3

summary: steve happens upon you while you're reading a smutty book and chaos ensues.

warnings: oral (f receiving); p in v smut -- that's all, really (18+); barely edited, slightly rom-com vibes, so do not take this seriously (haha).

“I got a bad idea. How 'bout we take a little bit of time away?”

A fan blows in the distance. The low hum is a constant drone, offset by the sounds of your quiet breathing and the gentle turn of a yellowed page in your book. You’ve been sitting in your window nook for hours, the weather too hot outside to linger for too long.

Your fingers halt on your current page, eyes glancing out your bedroom window.

Summer burns bright outside. The sky is a bright blue, smiling down on all those who thrive beneath it, its golden sun winking on full display. Your bedroom window is parted enough to allow air to filter in, the sounds of birds chirping greeting your ears. Across the yard is the Harrington backyard. Their pool glints blue and bright beneath you, lounge chairs filled by his parents now back from whatever business trip they’d been on, glasses of champagne already in hand.

Steve’s mother soaks up the sun, all long, lean legs, wide brim sun hat, oversized glasses, and the diamond ring on her finger that seems gargantuan even from here. You catch the sight of his father, stark dark hair like his son’s, leaning over to press a kiss to his wife’s lips before settling down on the chair beside her.

Steve’s nowhere to be found, but you know that’s always the case when they’re home. He’s likely on an errand, trying to stay away from the home, trying to cut all interactions to a bare minimum. Because he’s twenty-two and still working at Family Video, he’s twenty-two and should have more in his savings, should be taking on the family business, should be thinking about his future, should be—

Your attention is drawn by the sound of children’s laughter. The neighbor’s kids have shoddily drawn a hopscotch grid onto the ground, the sound of their sneakers knocking against the warm concrete audible even over the low hum of the cars that slowly slide on past.

And there, in front of your home, you catch the all too familiar sight of Steve’s BMW, and that pretty head of dark hair as he clambers out the driver’s side door, sunglasses perched atop the bridge of his nose.

Your eyes return to your book, knowing you have approximately sixty seconds until he’s in your bedroom and making himself at home. The main characters, two best friends oddly enough, are about to finally cross over a line of no return. You’ve read it enough times to know what comes next.

Nathan will tell Cora he loves her and she’ll tell him the same. He’ll grab her in his arms, pull her close, and kiss her until she’s breathless…

“Hey.”

And there he is, all fitted denim and a striped tee shirt that shows off how generous the years have been to your best friend. Long gone are his gangly limbs of boyhood. Now he’s all corded muscle, finely hewn, high cheekbones, that lovely jaw, dark eyes and his goofy smile that has your heart somersaulting as he plops down against the sea of pillows near your headboard.

“Hey,” you reply, eyes shifting back to your book.

It’s not unusual to sit in silence like this. In fact, he pulls one of your Cosmopolitan magazines from your bedside table and glances down at the woman with gorgeously blown out hair, shifting over onto his stomach. You both read in silence, your ankles hooking over one another as the scene in your book changes and suddenly Nathan and Cora are kissing in the back seat of his car, a little hot and heavy, wild and dirty, groping hands starting to remove clothes.

Your hand comes up to curl around the back of your neck, wiping at some of the sweat pooling there, both from the way Nathan’s hands slide underneath Cora’s shirt and slide along her breast, and the heat spilling in from outside.

“Are you okay?” He asks, head lifting from whatever article he’s likely not even really reading, hair flopping with the suddenness of the gesture.

You close the book for a moment, thumb holding your place, and offer him a nod. “Anything good in there? I don’t even know why my mom orders them; I don’t even read them.”

“So you’re saying you didn’t read this article on ‘Ten Ways to Please Your Man?’” He chuckles, turning the magazine to show you. “Really riveting stuff. I’ll cut this one out for you.”

“You’re such an ass,” you snap, though your voice breaks off into a laugh at the end. You never really can stay mad at him, not when he looks at you like a lost puppy in need of attention. All round dark eyes, elbows on your bed, lip jutting out just so. “Stop pouting. It’s not a good look—and don’t make any corny comments about how all your looks are good looks. Don’t you give me that face, I’ve known you since we were eight.” His look of incredulity falters, those lips of his curling into a smile because he knows you’re right.

Your eyes drift back to your book, picking up right where you left off as Nathan’s fingers unbutton Cora’s jean shorts and he helps to slide them down her thighs, fingers exploring every new inch of exposed flesh.

“Want to go to a movie tonight with Robin and Eddie? We all have off, might as well,” Steve muses, flipping the page of the magazine, and then flipping it again when he realizes it’s only ads for some clothing brand. “They want to see Dead Poets Society, and I remember you said you wanted to see it last week.”

Nathan’s fingers slide beneath the waistband of Cora’s underwear, asking for permission to touch her in a way no one else has. Your knees press together involuntarily, hand coming to rest over your swiftly beating heart, suddenly very grateful for the fan oscillating in the corner of your room.

“Did you hear me?” Steve asks, rolling over onto his back. His head dangles upside down over the edge, face immediately growing red like a tomato, your head shaking at him. “I asked if you wanted to go to the movies with Robin and Eddie later.”

“Oh…” You swallow as Nathan’s fingers start a slow drag along Cora’s center, making her writhe and moan in the back seat of the car, the sun setting and bathing everything in pink and orange shades that dance along his skin with dappled light. “Y-yeah. Sounds good, Stevie. I’d love to.”

You settle back into a comfortable silence. Steve still hangs upside down, tossing a tennis ball you must have left on your floor up into the air from your brief stint trying to play. Couples tennis, minus the fact the two of you weren’t a couple. But he thought it would be funny, and you’d long decided you would give everything at least one chance before ruling it out.

Your eyes drift back to the page, resuming where you left off, right when Nathan slides Cora’s panties down her thighs and asks if he can taste her. Your breath catches, and Steve rolls back over to look at you, brows furrowed high on his forehead in concern.

“Are you okay over there? Seriously. You’re breathing all funny and you’re barely here right now as it is,” he worries his lip between his teeth, those dark eyes of his meeting yours from across the room.

“I’m okay.” You glance down at your lap and tap your book. “You just walked in as things were picking up in my book.”

Maybe it’s not the right choice of words in retrospect. Maybe you shouldn’t have mentioned it at all and instead played it off like, yes, yes you were feeling a little under the weather because of the heat. But you don’t, and it’s the small fumble over your words that has Steve pushing himself upward to sit on the bed, head tipping lightly toward your floppy paperback.

“What are you reading anyway?”

“Nothing,” you mutter, sliding your bookmark into place. You press your book onto the cushion beside you, arms coming to curl around your body, shoulders shrugging. “Just a book.”

“You already said that,” he replies, throwing one foot over the edge of the bed, followed by the other. You shift further against your nook, your book sliding beneath a pillow as your hip bumps against it, obscuring it from view. “What kind of book is it?”

“Adventure,” you say quickly, turning a bit to meet him as those hands come to rest on either of your shoulders. “You haven’t hugged me today.”

“I know what you’re doing,” he says, but he appeases you anyway, his face inches from yours as he bends down to fold you against him.

You hum against his chest, relishing in his warmth, when you ask, “And what is that?”

“Trying to distract me.”

“I’m not distracting—”

Your words are cut off, because Steve’s hand reaches swiftly behind you to curl around the edge of your book and tug it close to his chest. The shriek you let out frightens even yourself as you rush after him, arms curling around his waist and sending him hurtling down against your bed. The book skitters toward your headboard, but that’s the least of your worries right now.

The only thing terrifies you more than him reading the scene that comes after where you left off is the way you’re sitting on top of him. With a slow, horrifying clarity, you take in the room around you. Thighs splayed on either side of his hips, your hands pinning his arm closest to the book above his head, and his hands reflexively against your hips. His chest rises and falls steadily beneath your palms, those dark irises rounding around the edges, his fingers clutching into the belt loops on your shorts.

You both look at each other in silent panic. Because this is your best friend. This is over ten years of friendship lying beneath you. It’s the boy who has seen you scrape your knees learning how to ride a bike, sat next to you on the swings at the park, was there for your first heartbreak. Because he’s the boy you were there for when it then happened to him with Nancy, the one you walked around town with after dark on a warm day with cups of ice cream in hand, the one you told everything to, who knew you best, the boy you snuck your first beer with, and fought off monsters from the Upside Down alongside.

Luckily, he seems to come to the same revelation just as quickly, shoving you off him onto the mattress, hands coming to dance along your ribs until your sides hurt from laughing so hard. A foot comes out to kick him in the thigh when his hand slides out above you, and you hear the familiar slide of your paperback against a blanket.

“Not fair!” You growl, watching him lean back on his haunches, book tucked into his shirt that he’s then tucked into his jeans. “That’s disgusting. You can keep it now. You’re sweaty.”

“I just showered.”

You huff. “Still. Why do you care about what’s in it so much?”

“I wanna know what’s got your panties in such a twist,” he says. Your heart thuds in your ears, throat bobbing with a thick swallow. “Are your panties in a twist? Is that why you’re all out of breath?”

“Steve,” you warn, though there’s no malice in your tone, only hesitancy. You curse yourself inwardly.

His voice drops into a whisper, “Is this a sexy book?”

You want to throttle him. Want to wrap your hands around his shoulders and shake the look of pure and utter delight off his smug features. Only you don’t. You sit there and watch as he slides off your bed and stretches his arms above his chest, which outlines the rectangle hiding against his skin all the more.

It’s then you remember: Steve Harrington hates books. Hated them in high school so much that you had to always read them for him and give him your breakdown of what happened, and you know for a fact he hates them now. The likelihood that’ll change brings you some peace. Confidence rising, you lean back onto your palms, grinning widely up at him.

“Movies at eight then?”

He arches a brow at your sudden shift in demeanor. “Uh…yeah, sure. I’ll pick you up at seven thirty.”

Everything will be just fine.

Only it’s not.

You learn quickly that, though Steve’s hated every book given to him thus far in life, he absolutely devours this one.

There are certain fears that have always lingered in the back of your mind throughout the years.

The first being the worry one day Steve would find out about your years-long crush you’ve had on him. The feelings that have lingered way longer than you ever intended for them to. And it’s not like you hadn’t tried to push them aside; you dated other people, put yourself out there, all to take your mind off of it. It always works…initially. That is, until he does or says something that has you falling all over again, wondering if he’d ever feel the same—wondering if he’s ever felt the same.

But this isn’t a romcom movie, and not all stories like these end up in a relationship, and you had already accepted that…for the most part. If there’s any hope, it’s more like a small flame. A tiny flicker. Nothing noteworthy or remarkable to see here.

Your second fear is the newest one. The fear that Steve would read the book you’d allowed him to sneak out of your house a week ago—actually read it—and unleash a new kind of petrifying hell on you and take actual pleasure in your demise.

It starts over Eddie’s place. He’s got an apartment with Robin now, a dingy little place you’ve always thought they should move out of, but theirs all the same. Robin and Eddie are picking out a movie while you and Steve stand in the kitchen, getting various bowls and trays ready with chips, candy, popcorn, and drinks.

Neither of you has said anything about the book catastrophe. That night, you’d gone to the movies as planned and even shared a soda together, your shoulder pushed against his like nothing even happened. You figured he’d torture you a bit, keep the book for a few days, and give it back with your bookmark exactly where you’d left it.

But he still hasn’t returned it, and when you ask him for it in the middle of Eddie’s kitchen he only shrugs and says, “I’m actually reading it again. I think I skimmed it the first time; I want to make sure I take it all in. Every word, and, you know, every inch of it.”

You glance his way out the corner of his eyes. On a good day Steve’s odd, to say the least. It’s one of the many things that endears you to him and has made you love him as much as you do. Right now, however, he’s all flushed cheeks and wide smirks, looking very much like the cat who swallowed a canary.

“Why are you smirking?”

You shuffle about him to reach into one of the kitchen cabinets in search of a scissor. You snip the corner edge off of an M&M bag and pour some into a bowl, watching him the whole time.

His smug self reaches down to grab a handful of your freshly pourn candies and plops a few into his mouth. You’re about to reprimand him when he moans around the mouthful, saying, “You taste so sweet, baby.”

Your throat dries. It’s worse than the Sahara Desert. Sandpaper slides across your vocal cords, your mouth opening and closing to try and form sentences. Words. Vowels. Anything would be better than the fish-like gape you’re left with, eyes widened in absolute horror.

“What did you just say?”

He turns to face you, his hip pressing against the countertop. Another M&M is lifted to his pursed lips, tongue sliding over it before pulling it into his mouth, his voice low as he repeats slowly, “You taste…so sweet…baby.”

Your eye twitch is your only response.

Your personal hell gets worse, if that’s even possible, two days later.

It’s a particularly balmy June day. Luckily, Steve’s parents are once again out of town, leaving the two of you behind to do whatever it is the hell you want to do. The both of you had settled on a pool day. Just the two of you lounging on floats, smelling of suntan lotion, your cherry chapstick freshly smacked against your lips, and soaking in the sun’s rays.

You’re on a round float in particular, arms spread out beside you, fingertips dancing along the pool’s surface. Music blares from a speaker in the distance, your warm beers long forgotten near the lounge chairs covered in your colorful towels.

You still don’t have your book back, but you can’t find it in yourself to ponder on it. Not like this, not with the water dancing along your skin, chilling your sweat-slick body, bobbing along the water without a care in the world.

“Should I make burgers or hot dogs?” Steve asks when the sun starts to set a bit and the humidity in the air lessens.

You slip down into your tube now, legs kicking in the water, arms propped up over the plastic edges. He treads water in front of you, hair slick against his head, face tanner than it was earlier that evening. He’s even got new freckles along his shoulders, dark against his golden skin.

“Can you do both?” You grin, reaching forward to poke at his cheek. “Please?”

“You’re lucky I like you,” he says, moving to go swim toward the shallow end of the pool where the stairs are.

You’re lucky you’re holding onto a float, because you’re pretty sure you would have momentarily choked under the water at the sight of his form disappearing beneath the surface, long legs kicking in that red bathing suit. Those strong arms of his slice into the water, perfectly practiced motions from the summers he spent life guarding.

You’re so rendered immobile by the sight you briefly forget it’s a scene that happens in your book. A moment when Cora realizes she’s physically attracted to her best friend. Only you differ from her in the fact that you’ve known Steve Harrington has been gorgeous for years. If that isn’t enough, though, when his body slowly walks up the stairs and he turns around to face you, your cheeks burn hotter than the sun could have ever warmed your skin. Because he slides a hand up onto his hair, bicep and abdominals rippling and on display.

Is he moving in slow motion? No, he can't be. Can he? What the actual fuck is going on?

“I’m onto you, Harrington.” You drag a thumb along your throat in a warning.

He only laughs and flexes his arm once more, asking innocently, “Whatever do you mean?”

You’re going to kill him. You’re going to actually have to kill him.

Over the course of the next few days Steve ups his antics.

It’s diabolical, you’ll give him that.

You make a mental note to talk to Eddie about it, because the dramatic flair practically screams his influence.

One of the days he wears a button up in the middle of your kitchen and offers to wash your dishes. Slides his sleeves up over his forearms so you can see all the tendons rippling as he moves (you almost pass out). Unbuttons the collar of his shirt complaining of heat to show that dark hair spattering his skin (you walk into the fridge).

Another day he takes your hand and dances with you like Nathan and Cora do in one of the chapters, spinning you round and round despite your initial protests, to something exceedingly romantic for your best friend’s tastes.

On the third, he accidentally brushes up behind you while you’re grabbing a board game from your closet and you feel the firmness of his chest against your back. You have to pray, something you haven't done in a long time, to keep yourself from doing something you might forever regret, because when did Steve get so muscular?

The fourth day brings soft serve ice cream, which is usually an innocent, non-sexual experience. Until, that is, Steve starts trailing his tongue along it. Little kitten strokes at first, long swipes through cream, the occasional slurp. And that’s all fine and dandy, something you can deal with, until he moans and you have to threaten him with the garden hose (after contemplating using it on yourself to cool off) because you’re not sure if you're about to combust into flame or kiss him square on the mouth and ask him to reenact his performance with the ice cream for real this time.

The fifth, while you’re minding your own business and actually trying to restock the tapes at Family Video, he plants dirty quotes from the book around the place. The two of you play games all the time. It gets you both into more trouble than you’d ever really like to share or admit, but this one is bolder, more evil than any that have come before it.

You’re torn between loathing him and loving him more for it.

And while you don’t particularly enjoy your job there, and really only use the pay to help you put yourself through college, you also don’t want to have to explain to Keith why there’s dirty talk written and hidden in parts of the building. You can picture him firing you already, fed up with Steve’s and your constant antics.

In the break room. I want to taste you.

Attached to the employee bathroom mirror. Let me hear those pretty sounds.

On a back room shelf. You feel so good around me. Feel how deep I am?

Inside one of the cup holders in your car (must have snuck that one while you’d been in the bathroom) I want you to fuck me so hard that I forget my name.

He’s proud of himself, laughing whenever you make a point of ripping up the paper loudly in front of him, letting the shreds drop one by one into a trash can. In actuality, though, your insides are fluttering from the words he’s chosen and you don’t even want to think about the way your thighs clench together or how you feel wetness pool inside your panties, so you decide you need to do damage control.

“So what you’re saying is he’s torturing you?” Robin asks at the conclusion of your debrief.

Her and Eddie sit across from you on the couch, watching wearily as you practically burn a hole in the carpet from your constant pacing. It’s been like this for a half hour. You frantically tell them all the ways Steve’s been haunting your every waking moment. How you’re feeling things you’ve long since tried to suppress.

You’re pent up.

A rubber band ready to snap.

You’re just afraid of what happens when that moment comes. Afraid of what you’ll do, what you might want.

You can’t voice it, let alone allow yourself to think it.

It would be a bad idea.

“Yes!” You nearly shriek, throwing your hands up in the air.

“You two share a single brain cell, and it’s actually quite amusing,” Eddie says.

It’s the only thing he’s said the whole evening, and you pause to whirl around and face him. “What did you say?”

“The two of you,” he says evenly, hooking an ankle over his knee. “Share a combined brain cell.”

“That’s rude,” you snap, narrowing your eyes.

He laughs, glancing over to Robin. “Are the two of you ever going to, oh I don’t know, act on your feelings? I thought it was because of all the shit with the Upside Down. But we saved the world, remember? So what gives?”

“I’m not following…”

Robin interrupts, all wild hands and frantic speech. “You two dinguses like each other. And stop with the ‘we’re best friends’ bullshit you feed everyone. The two of you are dancing around each other and have been for years now. Why not…talk it out and see what happens? You’re clearly feeling some sort of way over this weird little game the two of you are playing this week.”

But the two of you are best friends. You’re not Nathan and Cora. That kind of stuff happens in your books. Those fated relationships, destined to be at a young age.

You know how to separate fact from fiction.

Steve and you are fact, and you don’t want to dabble in fiction when it comes to him.

Right…?

Tears for Fears blares through the speaker system, Family Video empty save for the two of you. The ‘OPEN’ sign on the door has already been flipped to ‘CLOSED.’ You’re meant to be going through new releases for Keith and unpacking them from the boxes laid out in the back room. He’s already told you where he wants them placed, which movies to arrange on certain shelves for different occasions.

Your pencil scratches along paper, calling out the names of movies to Steve, crossing out a box to confirm you received all the titles the business was expecting. It’s tedious, and you’d rather be doing just about anything else, but it takes your mind off the tension swirling in your gut over your ‘Steve situation.’

Neither of you have spoken in a bit. More so because you don’t know what to say. You don’t know how to address the elephant in the room: the fact you like him, want him, and have been struggling to remind yourself that this game you’re playing is only a game. It’s a dangerous line to walk, even scarier to tread. On one side, the safety of friendship, and on the other is the unknown.

So you return to your tapes, the shadowed in boxes, the methodical strokes of pencil against paper. It’s another ridiculously warm day. You curse the shoddy air conditioning system Keith never calls in to get fixed, hands sliding down the sides of your skirt, grateful for the slight breeze that tickles your ankles with every movement. If Steve’s warm, he says nothing of it, only picks up the pace with going through the inventory and closes up the box once you’re finally done.

“We just need to double check the back room is clean and then we can lock up,” he says. Your head lifts abruptly, having gone so long without hearing his voice it almost shocks you.

“Oh, yeah. Right. Coming,” you tell him, clipping your pencil to the board and sliding the whole thing onto the shelf beneath the counter.

Steve’s shoving the box onto a wooden table when you join him, your eyes doing a cursory scan about the room to make sure everything looks to be in its proper place. What you don’t expect to see, however, is your book resting in your pocketbook on the chair you left it atop of.

Steve follows the line of your gaze and chuckles. “Figured it was about time I gave it back.”

You lift the tattered old thing in one hand and flip through the pages. He’s moved the bookmark all the way to the back, and you know he’s read the whole thing. Satisfied with its condition, you tuck it back into where it belongs and lean against the wooden table, palms curling around the edge as you shift to face him.

“You done teasing me?” You ask pointedly, head tipping to the side with a little smirk. “Even I have to admit that was a cruel game.”

“Why was it cruel?” He steps closer, the already small room shrinking even further.

“You were making fun of me.”

“No I wasn’t. I liked the book,” he admits, the corner of his lip twitching upward. “I just had one question the whole time I was reading it.”

“Yeah? What’s that?” You’re genuinely curious, leaning back further against the table.

Steve takes another step closer, dark hair bouncing with each movement, those eyes dark and kind. “You’ve written down all the dates you read the thing in the front. So I assume it’s your favorite. Why is it your favorite?”

It’s…not a bad observation. If anything, it has your blood burning a bit, heart starting to flutter faster in your chest. Still, you keep your cool, shrugging your shoulders in reply.

“Come on now, since when do we keep things from each other?”

His hand drops down onto the wood beside your hip, his chest nearly pressing to your knees where you sit. Your feet kick mindlessly back and forth, brushing against his shins, skirt fluttering around you.

“I like the plot,” you admit, popping the 'p' for emphasis, trying to look anywhere but his face as you continue, “I like the idea of two people who already know each other trying to see if there’s more between them.”

“Cora and Nathan are best friends.” It’s not a question, but a fact. You nod, watching his other hand drop onto the other side of your hip. “Is that why you got all hot and bothered in your bedroom? Why those notes made you squirm?”

“Don’t be an asshole.” You cross your arms over your chest. “It’s a book.”

“Is that all it is?” He asks, looking into your eyes with an unfamiliar intensity. You want to hide from it, but it dredges up something new in you. Something bold and dizzying. “If it’s just a book, tell me that’s all it is and we’ll close up and go home.”

You don’t say anything for a while.

How could you? How could you admit that the reason it’s your favorite is because it’s about two best friends falling for one another? How could you admit you dreamed and hoped maybe one day it would be your reality with him? How could you admit you wanted to taste him, touch him, feel him for years now?

Steve moves to head back toward the main room when you make your choice.

“Steve?”

He whirls around on the spot, eyes searching your face. He rushes back over to where you’re sitting. Your hands slide up tentatively into his, testing the weight of them in your palms.

You exhale a deep breath, “Kiss me?”

There’s no moment of question. No hesitance behind his gaze when he curls a palm around the side of your face and swoops down to kiss you soundly on the lips. It’s not slow and sweet like in the many movies you’ve seen and books you’ve read. Instead it’s an urgent, hurried thing. His hands slide around your hips and draw you closer to him, your thighs parting to make space for him, mouths licking into one another hungrily, years of pent up emotion spilling into the spaces between you.

It’s a nip of his bottom lip here, the gasp from you when his mouth slides along your cheek in search of your jaw, sucks below your ear in a way that has you clutching at his shoulders, dragging him closer. Fingers pinch into skin. Frantic hands slide over your Family Video vest, his mouth forming the quiet question of “Can I?” And your head is nodding, heart thundering. He slips it free from your form and touches at the hem of your shirt hesitantly.

“You can touch me,” you rasp out, hands clutching around the edge of the table. A callused palm slides up and along your skin, dances along the curve of your breast, right over the rapid thrum of your heart. “Stevie…”

He’s kissing you again, hand sliding out from underneath your shirt and instead rucking up the sides of your skirt. A gust of cold air hits the tops of your thighs as he bares you to him. You watch those fingers that have held you all these years, have tended your wounds, soothed away your worries, drag along your flesh. Up over the curve of your thigh, the curve of your hip, and down again.

“I want you to touch me, Steve. I want you,” you whisper against his ear, curling an arm around his shoulder and shuddering into the side of his neck. Those fingers slip down the front of your panties and trail a dangerous path from your slick center to your clit, teasing lightly, circling where you want him most.

He hums pleasantly. “This all for me, pretty girl?” He’s smiling to himself at your quiet cry, tracing the same pattern once more before dropping down onto his knees to help you slide them down and off your legs. “Are you sure?”

“Pleas—” Your voice breaks off into a moan. That taunting mouth of his licks a deadly path from your entrance to that sensitive nub, rendering you at his mercy. He slides one of your thighs up and over his shoulder, the other held out to open you further to him. “Just like that, just like that.”

He licks into you, murmuring into your skin about how he’s wanted you like this for years. Dirty sounds of your slick meld together with your gasps and whimpers, fingers reaching down to grasp at hair, tugging hard, hips grinding involuntarily into his face.

“Steve!” Your head falls back at the white hot flash behind your eyes when that first finger slides in all the way to the knuckle, a sinful slide in and out of you that has you craving more. More fullness, more something, more Steve, until you’re whining pathetically. The second finger joins the first, stretching and sliding against skin, working in tandem with the flat of his tongue against your clit.

You come with a cry of his name, body bowing over the top of his head, fingers a tangle against his scalp. He continues to lick and pump into you through your orgasm, his other hand holding tight against your hip you’re sure you’ll have bruises come morning. But you don’t care. You don’t care at all. You grip the front of Steve’s shirt and drag him upward to your mouth, tasting yourself on him. His tongue glides over your own, moans mingling in the spaces between you.

Your hands work on his jeans next, needing more of him, his mouth moving languidly over yours. Shaky hands slide the button through the hole, fingers pushing down the zipper, the desperate wiggle of fabric down his thighs so he can kick himself out of them. You waste no time sliding him out of his boxers, hand pumping him once, twice, before he’s sliding on a condom fished from his wallet and asking you how you want him.

It’s how you end up sliding down to the edge of the table, his fingers dipping into your slick heat, still sensitive from your orgasm, his cock straining against your hip when he drops down to kiss you once more, whispering, “Are you sure? Need your words, pretty girl.”

“I want you…I’ve wanted this, Steve.”

You feel him nudge at your entrance, so full and thick it has your eyes rolling slightly at the first delicious stretch. Your arm curls around his shoulder to drag your chests closer, gasps mingling, the hand curling around your hip gripping tighter while he sinks inch by inch into you until he’s buried to the hilt.

He rocks slowly against you at first. A slow, torturous drag in and out. In and out. Until you’re whimpering steadily into the quiet room, ankle curling around a hip, drawing him closer. Always closer. It’s a slow build up. Face pressed into his chest, hips rolling in tandem with his, relishing in his sounds rumbling deep within his chest.

It’s Steve, you remind yourself.

Steve, your best friend in the world, rocking into you, chasing your peaks together. He's whispering how pretty you are, how good you feel, praising you. He murmurs ‘good fuckin’ girl’ against your mouth when your head shifts and you kiss him greedily, a messy tangle of lips, tongue and teeth.

“Faster, Steve,” you plead, eyes pinching shut.

His hips snap harder against yours, his grunts and groans filling the space, driving the table to knock against the wall, sending the box of new inventory hurtling to the ground. Neither of you can be bothered with it, hands clutching against clothes, mouths tangling, wet skin slapping against skin, lurching closer and closer to the edge.

Steve’s laying you back against the table, chest crawling over your own, mouth like a brand against yours, your hair fanning around your head. He curls a forearm under your lower back, tilting your hips, the new angle hitting that part of you over and over and over again that makes your vision grow white around the edges. Your whimpers of his name spurring him on, your thigh crooked over one of his elbows, drawing him closer, deeper.

Steve comes seconds after you do, face red and chest heaving, gasping at the way your body clenches around him. Kisses you in between broken cries of his name falling from your pretty lips.

Your thigh slides back down from around his elbow. The other thigh slowly drops back down against the wood, skirt bunching indecently around your hips, his chest heavy against yours. Your fingers come up to brush along his hair, humming when he leans over to kiss you once, twice, and then slides off of you, your body immediately missing the feeling of being full of him.

You dress and clean in silence. Little awkward chuckles spilling here and there as he helps you slide your underwear back on, head disappearing beneath your skirt to teasingly nip at the inside of a thigh. Your hands help to smooth his unruly hair back into place. It’s a gentle slide of fingers together when you both make your way out to his car and slip inside, the cheeky grin from him when he leans over the center console and smacks a kiss against your cheek, making your skin burn ablaze.

“Want to go get food? Maybe a milkshake,” he suggests, curling a hand around his steering wheel. “On me.”

“Like a date?” You muse, watching his hand curl around your own to draw your palm to his lips for a slow kiss into the center.

“If you want it to be.”

Steve and you open up at Family Video the next day.

Your late night plans the day before in hindsight may not have been the best idea either of you had in a while, but seeing him early that next morning with his sunglasses perched on his face and his lips eagerly seeking yours over the center console had made it worth it.

You’d spent the evening huddled over a basket of fries, talking about your feelings, about giving things a try, constantly touching. Hands, cheeks, shoulders, legs. You craved it all, this new need to be attached at all times, butterflies fluttering in bellies, grins tugging at faces. Later it had been chocolatey milkshake kisses under the stars at Lover’s Lake, a new world of exploration at your fingertips.

Presently, Robin and Eddie mill about in the distance, looking for a movie for your usual Friday night in, the two of them calling various movie titles over to where you and Steve work behind the countertop.

“How about Heathers?” Eddie asks, just as Keith barrels out of the back room, looking red in the face and on a mission.

“Looks like you two—” he points between you and Steve. “—did some rearranging in the back room last night. That wall you dented and then tried to hide behind the table, however you managed that, I don’t know…but yeah, you’ll be paying for it. And the stack of movies on the floor? If any are busted, I’ll dock both your pay for them as well. Count your lucky stars I’m not firing you both.”

He’s gone back the way he came, leaving you standing beside Steve, your mouths open, eyes rounded in fear.

Steve mouths, “We forgot to clean up the movies…”

You turn into his chest to hide, mortification burning your face.

Robin and Eddie smirk, high-fiving amidst the movie displays.

#steve harrington smut #steve harrington fluff #steve harrington #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x female reader #steve harrington x f!reader #steve harrington x afab!reader #steve harrington imagine #my writing #luna's writing

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lazycatie · 1 year

Text

f(x) / cd art

#f(x)#cd art #kpop #music #girl groups #2nd gen kpop #amber liu #sulli #luna #krystal #victoria #cd #y2k #nostalgia #2000s #2010s #cd cover

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beskarandblasters · 9 months

Note

okay pls just like SOFT Cass on Niamos before he gets arrested having just a soft beach vacation moment with the reader thank u xoxox

Summer Fling, Don’t Mean a Thing

Cassian Andor x F!Reader

Main Masterlist | Cassian Andor Masterlist

Author's note: I tried to follow Star Wars lore in this one so you need to know that sunscreen oil = Star Wars version of sunscreen, bathing togs = bathing suits, revnog = alcholic beverage and peezos = poppers/pills

Summary: You're working at Neptune's Resort, a beach front hotel on the planet Niamos. And that's when you meet a mysterious stranger with a lot of credits who calls himself Keef Girgo. What started out as you just showing him his room turns into the best summer romance of your life.

Word count: 7.3k

Warnings: reader is able-bodied, canon divergent, drinking, vaginal sex, unprotected sex (pull out method lmao), oral sex (male and female receiving) little bit of nipple play, fluff, Cassian being a romantic, semi public sex, drug use, some light jealousy, angst, pet names (sweetheart, baby), no use of y/n

It’s another typical day for you at Neptune’s Resort on Niamos; standing at the front desk and checking people in. It’s the officially busy tourist season for Niamos and you should've had your break forever ago. But the line at the front desk has been endless; a non stop flow of travelers from all corners of the galaxy.

Finally the line is starting to let up. One last guest walks up to your desk and you’re already captivated by him; dark hair, dark eyes and an accent that you can’t quite place where it’s from.

“I’d like a room, please.”

“Sure thing, let me check what our availability is, sir,” you say, scrolling through your holo-pad.

You feel his eyes scanning you as you search for a room for him. And to his luck there’s one left. But it’s one of the most expensive rooms in the whole resort with an ocean front view.

“So we have one room left but it’s four hundred credits a night…”

“That’s okay.”

“Oh, s-sure. Let me get your reservation set up for you.”

You’re surprised. The man in front of you doesn’t look like he comes from money particularly. Yet he’s already pulling out the credits for the first night’s down payment and setting them on the desk.

You slide the credits into your hand and put them in the drawer before returning to the holo-pad to finish setting up his reservation.

“Name?”

“Keef Girgo.”

“And how many nights are you staying?”

“Uh, I don’t really have a set amount of time. At least a week or two.”

You raise an eyebrow before returning your gaze back to the holo-pad.

“Right well this room is available for another week but after that we could move you to a different one if you plan on staying longer.”

He nods and you hand him his key hard.

“Go all the way down the hallway and at the end make a left. It’ll be the first door on your right.”

“Thanks,” he says, taking the key card from your hand.

You walk out from behind the desk, just looking to take your much needed break. But Keef asks, “Oh, are you showing me to my room?” but not in a rude, expectant way; almost like a hopeful tone.

“Oh! S-sure I can show you.”

You lead him down the hallway and feel his gaze all over your backside as you walk. And though you can’t see it, his eyes gravitate to your hips and the way they sway when you walk. You hang a left and stop at his door.

“Well here you are,” you say, turning to face him.

“Thank you,” he says, stepping closer and leaving only a small gap between the two of you. His eyes meet yours before trailing down to your face to your lips.

“Y-you’re welcome. Enjoy your stay! See you around,” you say before walking back to the lobby. You hear the beep of the key card opening his door behind you and you turn to get one last look at him, only hoping to get a glance of him from behind but to your surprise he’s already looking at you. He smiles at you and gives you a small wave. You feel your cheeks heat up in embarrassment so you turn on your heel and quickly walk away. You walk through the lobby and go down another hallway past the resort gift stop, heading to the break room. The door slides open and you walk inside with a heavy exhale, closing your eyes.

“So who was that?” you hear a voice ask.

Your eyes fly open and you see your coworker, Mara, sitting at a table across the room. You walk over and pull out a chair, sitting down across from her.

“Who?”

“That last guy at the desk! You went down the hallway with him.

“Oh you saw that?”

“Mhm.”

“Just a guest. I was showing him to his room.”

“I didn’t realize you did that for guests,” she says, a smile spreading across her face.

“I don’t! He just… asked?”

“He asked??”

“Sort of? I was just going to my break and he asked if I was showing him to his room.”

“How long is he staying? And what room?”

“At least a week or two. One of the ocean front rooms.”

“Oh so he’s got moneyyy. You might have a new friend for the next few weeks.”

“You’re funny. He’s just a guest. Are we still on for drinks tonight?

“Of course I am, girlfriend. See you later after my shift!” she says, getting up from her chair and heading back out into the lobby.

You spend the rest of your break trying to forget about the mysterious guest who checked in today. But frankly, you spend the whole rest of your shift doing just that; trying to forget about him and his eyes. So that when the end of your shift comes you’re excited to drink with Mara and finally have a chance to forget.

You change out of your work uniform and into clothes you brought with you for tonight. You head to the Neptune Resort lounge and find Mara sitting at the bar. It’s packed tonight, filled with patrons of all different species, smoke hanging heavy in the air. You walk across the room to the bar and sit next to her. She already ordered you a drink, revnog. She slides it across to you.

“You’ll never guess who’s here?” she says, taking a sip of her drink.

“Hmm let me guess. The new clerk from Arkie’s you have a crush on?”

“Shh don’t be so loud!” she laughs, playfully slapping you on the arm, “And no, not him. Your new favorite guest,” she finishes with a tilt of her head.

You turn your head to the direction she gestured to to see Keef sitting at the opposite end of the bar. And he happens to be looking directly at you. You give him a small smile before turning back to Mara.

“Go over there and talk to him.”

“What? No, it’s girls night!”

“So? He’s not going to stay here forever. Go over there!”

“Okay! Okay! I’ll do it.”

You watch her face shift from excitement to shock; she’s looking at something behind you. You turn around to follow her gaze to find Keef standing right behind you, drink in his hand.

“I’m gonna go to the ladie’s room!” Mara bursts out before shooting you a wink and walking away.

“Hi,” you say sheepishly.

“Hi. I heard you two talking and I figured I’d just come over to you.”

Shit, he heard all that?

“Ahh I’m sorry about her. Her voice carries.”

“You don’t have to apologize,” he laughs.

“So where are you visiting from, Keef?”

“Coruscant.”

“And what do you do there?”

“I repair droids. Are you from here?”

He does that thing with his gaze again, shifting from your eyes down to your lips and then back up to your eyes again.

“Born and raised,” you reply.

And a simple conversation filled with small talk turns into playful banter in no time. Your body language goes from stiff and controlled to open and comfortable. You sip your drink and lean into him, your hand grazing his bicep. Your touch lingering on his skin even after you remove your hand. And sure, the alcohol is loosening you up a little. But talking with him feels natural the longer it goes on. The conversation keeps going back and forth, never missing a beat.

Before you know it the space between you two is getting smaller, so small that you can smell him. He smells like the sun, saltwater, and sunscreen oil. You look closer at his face, the apples of his cheeks and his nose a little sunburnt. He must’ve gone to the beach today. And all of a sudden you’re picturing him walking out of the ocean; his hair wet and slicked back, water droplets hanging off his bare chest, the sun hitting him perfectly. Now your eyes are exploring his face; his nose, his dark eyes, the stubble growing in, his lips…

Without a second thought you’re leaning into him and pressing your lips against his. You take in all of him; his scent, his stubble tickling your face, his hand on the small of your back, the taste of alcohol on his lips. You pull back for a second but his mouth follows yours, not wanting the kiss to end. His hands caress either side of your face before returning his lips against yours. His tongue brushes against your lips, asking for access. You want to give it to him but you’re also painfully aware you’re in a crowded lounge right now and that there’s other people at the bar with you…

You pull away and worry flashes over his face, like he’s afraid he did something wrong.

“Do you mind if we go-”

“Back to my room?” he finishes, as if he read your mind.

“Yes, please,” you say, grabbing your bag off the back of the stool.

You turn and scan the room for Mara, just wanting to tell her you’re leaving. You spot her sitting at a table in the corner of the room with a drink. You start to walk over to her but she waves you off and mouths “Go!!”

You shoot her a smile and wave goodbye before interlocking your hand with Keef’s and exiting the lounge together. The walk back to his room is playful, both of you swaying back and forth and hanging off one another. You reach his room and he fumbles around in his pocket for his key card. He finds it and scans it on the sensor but not before giving you a sloppy kiss, not able to keep his hands off you. As soon as the door is open he pulls you inside. You laugh at his eagerness to have you already. Because the second the door closes you’re up against the wall being showered in kisses and his hands roaming your body. Your hands tangle themselves in his hair, tugging at his locks lighty and eliciting a soft moan from him. Your senses become overwhelmed, completely enveloped in every aspect of him. In a rhythmic push and pull the both of you end up at the bed in the middle of the room. You sit on edge, pulling off your dress over your head and watching his eyes scan your form and his mouth fall open. You expect him to get undressed, too, but instead he falls to his knees right in front of your legs. He spreads your thighs apart and hooks his fingers at the seam of your underwear, pulling them down in one swift motion. His hands move to your sides, applying pressure ever so lightly to get you to lay down.

“Relax, sweetheart,” he says softly.

You oblige and lay down on the bed, closing your eyes in anticipation. You feel his warm breath at your core and it sends a shiver up your spine. He chuckles at your sensitivity to just his breath before licking one slow stripe up your cunt which sends even more shivers up your spine. His tongue goes straight to your clit, lapping small, quickly circles around it. But when he starts sucking on the sensitive bundle of nerves that’s when he’s got you arching your back and gripping the sheets. His fingers slide up and down your entrance, marveling at how soaked you're getting. He removes his tongue from your clit for a moment, much to your chagrin. But that’s quickly replaced by intense pleasure as he slides a finger into your cunt and replaces his tongue on your clit. His tongue and his finger work simultaneously, mirroring each other perfectly. One hand continues to grip the sheets but your other hand moves to his hair, tugging at it and pulling him even closer into you. You feel him slide a second finger in and you know you’re not going to last. You grind your hips into his face and hand and before you know it you’re coming against him. The muscles in your core contract and release erratically as you close your eyes in pleasure. Your release soaks his hand down to his wrist and coats the lower half of his face. He lets you ride out your high, leaving his tongue on your clit and fingers inside your cunt, just getting joy of feeling your cunt cum thanks to him. But eventually the movement of your hips slows down and he removes his fingers and mouth before removing his clothes, tossing them on the floor in a strewn about pile. He sits beside you on the bed and looks down at you with complete adoration in his eyes, watching the rise and fall of your chest and the way your lashes fan out on your face when you close your eyes.

“Ready for more, sweetheart? Or are you tapped out?” he chuckles.

“No, no!” you blurt out, probably a little too quickly.

You move up farther on the bed, resting your head on the pillows by the headboard.

“Where do you want me?” you ask.

“Just like that,” he says softly.

You nod and spread your legs open. He situates himself between your thighs and brings his hand to your cunt again, collecting your wetness in his hand. He spreads it onto his cock, giving it a few strokes before aligning himself with your entrance. He grabs your hand and pushes into you slowly, studying your face for your reaction to him. You let out a small gasp, keeping your eyes locked with his eyes as he begins to thrust in and out of you. He pins your hand above your head, keeping intertwined with yours while he picks up the pace, driving his length deeper into you. Your walls tighten in anticipation of a powerful release and he can feel it.

“You can do it, sweetheart. Cum for me,” he says looking down at you.

With one last slam of his hips into you you’re coming around his cock, your cunt fluttering around him. He holds in his own orgasm as long as he can so you can finish riding out your high. And when you’re done, he pulls out and paints your stomach in ropes of cum before laying down next to you on the bed.

Panic starts to overtake you. The intrusive thoughts kick in telling you to leave. But instead you’re enveloped in Keef’s scent, the soft sheets, and the warmth of his touch. Running away can wait until tomorrow morning. For now, you rest.

The morning light peaks in through the curtains. You roll over on your side and see Keef sleeping peacefully next to you. And that’s when the memories of last night start to hit you; the lounge, the kiss, the walk back to his room, the sex. You sit up and rub your eyes. You’re a little groggy from the post-sex sleep and the alcohol. But thankfully you’re not hungover. Although you’re feeling sick with something else; regret. You’re not one for one night stands to begin with. And he’s a guest at your place of work for crying out loud. But… you did feel a connection with him last night. Then again, it could be the alcohol talking…

You get out of bed and quietly as you can so you don’t disturb Keef. You look around the room now that it’s light and you’re not drunk and preoccupied and it’s nice to say the least. The room is complete with a bed in the middle adorned with soft cream colored sheets and a large attached bathroom. These are the most expensive rooms in the whole resort, you’ve never even stepped in one of them in your time working here. It makes you wonder… does a droid mechanic make enough to stay in a room like this for an indefinite amount of time? Coruscant is an expensive place to live but the lack of plans to leave Niamos has you contemplating. You look down at him sleeping on the bed and your mind starts to wonder… Who is this man?

You grab your underwear from the floor and slip them back on. And that’s when he stirs for a moment. You stop what you’re doing and wait for it to pass. When you think you’re in the clear you pick up your dress and start to step into it. But just as you get one leg in, Keef wakes up, his voice stopping you in your tracks.

“You’re leaving?”

“Uhh-”

“Do you have to work?”

“Well no, but-”

“So stay.”

“What?”

He moves to the side of the bed you’re standing at and looks up at you, taking your hands in his.

“Stay with me.”

“You want me to?”

“Of course I do.”

You sit beside him on the bed. “Okay… what do you wanna do today?”

“We could go to the beach.”

“Sounds good! I just have to go home and get my stuff. I went to the lounge straight after work.”

“So you need a bathing tog?”

“Yes, but I can just run home real quick. I don’t live far-”

You cut yourself off when he gets out of bed (still completely naked) and walks over to the refresher. He comes back with a handful of credits and says, “Here. Go to the gift shop,” reaching his hand out to you.

“Keef, I can’t. This is really generous but I could never.”

“It’s on me,” he says, grabbing your hand placing the credits in your palm with a couple of his hand.

“O-okay, do you want me to go now and meet you back here?”

“Sounds good,” he replies, followed by a tender kiss on your lips.

He goes back into the refresher and turns the water on. You finish sliding on your dress and put on your shoes before tossing the credits in your bag and heading out. You’re painfully aware that it looks like you’re doing the walk of shame in your place of work, complete with sex hair and last night’s clothes. You try to keep your gaze on the floor to avoid making any eye contact with your coworkers. But as soon as you enter the lobby you hear Mara’s voice coming from the front desk.

“Well look who it is!” she laughs.

You look up and make eye contact before walking over to her, cheeks going hot with embarrassment.

“Could your voice be any louder?” you tease.

“Sorry, just couldn’t help but notice someone had a really good time last night. Last night’s clothes, matted hair– You spent the night!”

“Indeed I did.”

“Are you going home now?”

“Not exactly… he asked me to spend the day with him.”

Her eyes widen in disbelief. “Really? What are you guys doing?”

“Going to the beach. And then I told him I didn’t have my swimming togs and he gave me credits to go buy some at the gift shop??”

“Girl, what did I tell you? He’s got moneyyy and you have a new little friend,” she jokes, adding a sarcastic emphasis on the word “friend”.

“It was just one night.”

“Most one night stands don’t continue into the next day… or spoil you.”

“Okay fine! Maybe you’re right.”

“Do you like him at least?”

“I think I do.” “Well then go get your bathing togs and get back to him already!” she says, shooing you away, “But just know I’m living vicariously through you.”

You laugh and wave to her before walking across the lobby to the gift shop. You pick out a set of bathing togs, a matching two piece in your favorite color, and head to the checkout counter. The clerk is one of your coworkers that you don’t know that well but even she could tell that you’re here in yesterday’s clothes. You avert your eyes from her as she cashes you out and hands you your bag, hastily giving her the credits needed before getting out of there as fast as you can.

I just need to get to the beach already, you think to yourself, picking up the pace as you walk back to his room.

You knock on the door for him to let you in and he answers the door shirtless still but dressed in his own bathing togs. He steps to the side and lets you in. The door closes behind you as you go to hand him the leftover credits but he shakes his head and says, “Keep it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure,” he says, snaking an arm around your waist and pulling you into him, pressing a kiss on your temple.

You lean into him for a moment, just allowing yourself to just be held by him before pulling away to change. He watches you as you get undressed and though you were just naked with him last night you’re feeling a little self conscious. But you look over at him and the way he’s watching you and your ill feelings melt away. All thanks to the way he’s admiring you. You finish changing as he comes up behind you in the mirror beside the bed, draping his arms around your shoulders. Every time he touches you it sends little currents of warmth throughout your body, leaving your stomach swelling with butterflies.

“Are you ready, sweetheart?”

“Mhm,” you respond, examining your joint reflection in the mirror.

He lets go to grab the towels and the two of you are off to the beach. His hand interlocks with yours as you walk down the steps to the crowded coastline. Luckily there’s an open cabana left. You drop off your bag and the towels before heading to the ocean, spending time floating in the gentles for a while. The conversation between you and Keef never hits a lull; always lively like you’ve known each other for ages. You have strangely deep and meaningful conversations with him even though you only met the day prior. You can genuinely feel yourself falling for him but you mentally chastise yourself for getting so attached already.

Eventually the two of you head back to the cabana and lay down in the sun. But not before helping each other apply sunscreen oil on each other’s back and shoulders. You can’t help but notice the way he tenses up underneath your touch and wonder if he’s feeling the same as you do.

You lay down underneath the sun together, conversation still flowing effortlessly. Except this time it does go quiet. But not in an awkward way. Instead he rests his head in your lap, closing his eyes and resting peacefully against your soft skin. You bring your hand to his hair, stroking it gently and feeling him melt into your touch. The sun hits his resting face perfectly, highlighting every detail of him. You get the sense he desperately needed rest like this.

And so the two of you stay there for a while, him sleeping soundly in your lap as you people watch and admire the rolling waves. He’s going to feel guilty when he wakes up, for just falling asleep on you like that. But you don’t mind in the slightest.

You fell asleep, too. The both of you waking up feeling a little cooked, a slight tan gracing his face. He apologizes profusely like you predicted but you do your best to reassure him that you didn’t mind.

But now it’s nearing the end of the day; the end of your day off which means back to work tomorrow. And you really need to get home. You walk back to the resort with him, hands intertwined again.

You turn to face him on the edge of the resort overlooking the beach and say, “I’d stay with you longer but I really have to get home.”

He nods like he understands but he also asks, “Will I see you again?”

“Of course you will. You know where I work,” you tease.

He pulls you in by the waist for one last kiss before you part ways. You can’t see it but he watches your silhouette walk away until you’re out of sight.

You go home that night still trying to comprehend the twenty four hours. And when you’re bed you find yourself still trying to comprehend everything as you drift off to sleep.

Three days have passed. The resort got unfortunately extremely busy. You had to stay late the past two nights. Which meant no time with Keef for you.

But today you finally get off work somewhat earlier in the day and Mara asks while you’re in the break room, “Another girls night tonight? Or are you too busy with your new friend?

“Actually I haven’t seen him in a while,” you reply, trying to mask the disappointment in your voice.

“Girl why not? You know what room he’s staying in. Just show up.”

“Mara, please. I’d never do something like that.”

She sighs. “So girls night it is then?”

“Sounds good. After I get out I’ll go home and change.”

“See you tonight, girl!” she says as you leave the break room.

You finish out the rest of your shift, only about two hours, and spend the rest of the night silently hoping you’ll see Keef again at the lounge tonight. You start to walk home and that’s when you see him across the resort closer to the beach talking to… a woman.

Jealousy starts to course through your veins but you try to stop yourself before you let it overtake you. It was just one night stand but one night stand’s don’t typically last all the way throughout the following day. And he indicated he wanted to see you again. You can’t help it. The jealousy is fully manifesting now. But instead of going over there and causing a scene you just shake your head and walk home, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in your stomach. You get home and decide to try and make yourself feel somewhat better. It’s girls night again tonight and if you’re brave enough you can find someone to replace Keef in no time. The resort is littered with rich guests. Although that’s not why you liked him in the first place…

You put on a dress, one that’s black and hugging your form in all the right places. You do your hair and makeup before leaving to walk back to the resort. You enter the lounge and scan the room for Mara. The lounge is even more packed than it was the other night. You weave around tables and slide past groups of people talking before you reach the bar at the back of the room where you find her sitting. She takes her bag off the stool she was saving for you and says, “Someone looks good tonight. Are you hoping to run into a certain someone?”

“Actually, no.”

“No??”

“I saw him talking to a woman on my way home.”

She sighs. “Men… They’re all the same.”

You both order a round of revnog from the bartender, downing it quickly and trying to have fun. But you’re in a mental battle with yourself. Part of you feels hurt; hurt because you thought maybe you felt something with Keef. But on the other hand you feel stupid for getting so attached to a one off fling.

But eventually after a few rounds Mara sees a guy across the room she wants to talk to. Her gaze shifts back to you with pleading eyes.

“Go! Have fun!” you tell her, shooing her off.

She did the same for you the other night. It’s the least you could do.

So that leaves you drinking alone at the bar. You’re sitting and quietly sitting on your glass, facing forward when you feel a presence on your left hand side. You turn your head slightly and see not Keef but another man sitting beside you.

“What’s a lovely lady like you doing here by yourself?”

“Girls night,” you reply nonchalantly.

“I don’t see another girl here with you,” he responds.

You tilt your head in the direction of Mara and say, “She’s over there talking to someone.”

“Maybe that’s what you should be doing.”

You turn your head fully and get a good look at him. He’s not terrible looking but the way he’s “flirting” (if you could even call it that) has you turned off.

“Should I?” you ask playfully.

He spreads his arms open as if to show off himself and says, “It’s all right here for ya.”

Ugh. At least he can keep you occupied while Mara’s gone. And so the two of you talk for a while. You learn his name is Sal and that he’s visiting here from Alderaan. The conversation is okay but eventually it goes stale. You zone out and look past his face, just wanting the night to be over at this point. And as you’re zoning out you see none other than Keef sitting at the end of the bar, his dark eyes fixated on the two of you. You can’t help but notice how tight his jawline is and the way he anxiously taps his fingers on the countertop. Is he… jealous?

“Would you excuse me for a moment?” you say to Sal, downing the rest of your drink and exiting the lounge, not waiting for a reply from him. You’ll worry about your tab later.

You wait in the lobby and pace in anticipation, wondering if your exit worked. And sure enough Keef follows you into the lobby, jaw softening when he sees you alone. His face relaxes as he pulls you into him by the waist, happy to just be with you again.

“I missed you,” he says softly.

You don’t say anything at first. You’re unsure of how to feel and how to respond.

He senses something off and asks, “Are you okay?”

“I guess I was just a little jealous when I saw you with that woman earlier today…”

“What woman…?”

“Earlier this afternoon,” you respond, cringing in anticipation of his response but also at yourself for even making this a thing.

“Oh sweetheart, I was just asking for directions to the Arkie’s.”

“Oh…” you say, looking at the floor and feeling a little silly.

“But it’s cute that you were jealous,” he says, grabbing your chin and turning your face towards his.

“Oh you mean like you were just now?” you tease.

“Mhm,” he says, not even denying it.

He leads you off into the direction of his room, arm still around your waist. He stops at his door and scans the keycard, pulling you into his room.

“So, sweetheart… Do I have to show you that I only want you?”

“Yes. Yes, please,” you blurt out.

He chuckles at your eagerness and softly says, “On the bed.”

You do as you’re told, sitting on the edge of the bed and about to pull off your dress over your head. But he doesn’t want to wait. He pushes you down lightly on the bed, kneels on the floor and spreads your thighs apart. He brings his mouth to your entrance, taking note as to how wet you are already. He licks one long, slow stripe up your cunt to drive you insane, flicking his tongue around your clit at the end. He hooks his arms around your thighs bringing your cunt as close to his face as it can go, completely inhaling your scent and your taste. His tongue moves back down to your cunt, leaving his nose to rub against your clit. You move your hips against his face, getting off on the feeling of his tongue in your cunt, nose at your clit and his stubble tickling your thighs. Not before long you’re coming against his face, your cunt spasming against his face erratically as you ride out your high. You coat the lower half of his face in your release and he laps up every last drop, making sure to comment on how good you taste. When you’re done he pulls away and stands up, getting undressed and ready to fuck you. But you want to pleasure him for once. You bring your hand to his groin, cupping his balls and stroking his already hard cock. He curses under his breath and says, “Baby you don’t have to.”

“But I want to,” you say, looking up at him with pleading eyes.

“Okay,” he says softly, closing his eyes.

You bring your mouth to the tip of his cock, swirling your tongue around it before taking him in your mouth. You take in his length, as far as you can go, and wrap your hand around the part that won’t fit. Your other hand cups his balls slightly as you bob your head up and down, listening to all the sounds he’s making. He brings a hand to your hair and holds it gently, never really pulling on it. You feel him tense up and you know he’s close. He pulls out of your mouth, not wanting to finish just yet and moans, “Need you. Now.”

You oblige and pull off your dress before laying down on the bed. He positions himself in between your thighs before inserting his length into you, both of you sighing at the familiar feeling. He places your legs on his shoulders and drives his cock into you deeper and deeper, hitting the most perfect angles inside you. You look up at him as he continues fucking you, chest slick with sweat and his hair getting messier with each slam of his hips. Between all that and the way he’s looking at you with pure lust in his eyes it’s almost like sensory overload. He brings his hands to your breast, caressing the outline of them before bringing them to your nipples, bringing them to stiff peaks between his fingertips. The added sensation brings you to the edge. You cum around him, your cunt convulsing him like a vice. He keeps fucking you through your release, prolonging it and almost going to the point of over stimulation. But then he pulls out and coats your abdomen with his cum. He lays down next to you on the bed, pulling you into him so that you’re spooning. He traces the outline of your body with his hand as you rest together, coming down from the evening’s activities.

“Have I never told you how beautiful you are?” he murmurs.

“Oh yeah?”

“Mhm. You’re perfect,” he says, placing a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“You’re sweet.”

“You could stay with me, you know.”

“Hm?” you ask, feeling the sleepiness already taking you over.

“Mhm. Stay here with me. The commute to work will be so short,” he jokes.

“Okay,” you whisper, closing your eyes and letting sleep consume you.

Two weeks have passed since he asked you to stay with him. In the back of your mind you wonder how he has enough credits to do this and when he’s eventually going to leave but you try not to think about it. You’re loving how he treats you and how he makes you feel so you decided you’re just going to live in the moment and enjoy yourself.

He did have to move into a new room after a week, switching to one with the same layout but a few floors higher and a gorgeous view. The resort’s also been pretty busy. And on the days you work late it’s night to just walk into a room there with a warm bed and someone to hold you at night.

On your days off you two either spend time at the beach or around the resort. And since meeting him you’ve grown into the habit of drinking revnog and taking peezos when you’re really looking to have fun.

And that’s the case for today; another one of your days off. The beach has been really crowded all day so you’ve spent the day in the hotel room, twisted in the bed sheets, drinking revnog and popping peezos. Nightfall is approaching and you’re standing on the balcony with him when he says, “Let’s go to the beach.”

“Now? It’s getting dark out and this beach has a curfew.”

“They don’t patrol it at night. I’ve been watching from here,” he says, eyes scanning the beach as people start to leave.

You know what, why not?

“Okay,” you respond.

When it’s fully dark out the two you leave the room and walk down to the lobby where you see Mara at the front desk. She glances at the direction you’re headed and pieces together you’re going to the beach. She gives you a knowing look and mouths “Have fun!” You shoot her wave and continue walking with Keef.

You get to the beach and it’s so peaceful at night when it’s not packed with tourists. You pick out a cabana at the water’s edge and lay there together, just watching the waves. The moonlight illuminates his face and you think again just about how happy you are.

“I wish you could stay forever,” you say softly and also subconsciously.

“Who says I can’t?”

“I mean you have to get back to Coruscant eventually.”

“Right…” he says as if he just remembered something unpleasant.

It falls silent between the two of you, both of you retreating to watching the waves. He has an uneasy look on his face, like he wants to say something.

“Can I… tell you something?” he asks, his nervousness evident in his voice.

“Of course.”

“I don’t know how much longer I’ll be here or where I’m going next but for whatever time I have left with you… I want you to know my name.”

You’re silent, letting him talk freely because it looks like this is a real internal conflict for him. He grabs your hands and says, “My name is Cassian. And I know this is going to sound so suspicious but no one else can know… I just wanted to hear you call me by my real name when we’re together.”

You take a deep breath and say, “Okay, Cassian.”

He smiles and kisses you before you lay down again. The voice in the back of your mind is louder, telling you that this guy is bad news, that you should get out while you can. But the voice is still just soft enough for you to ignore.

His hand grazes your thigh and you decide that you want him. You want to fuck him and call him by his real name (which is much better than Keef anyway). You part your legs and let his hand travel up your thigh. He pushes the fabric of your underwear and shorts to the side, bringing his fingers to your entrance.

“Do you want me, sweetheart?” he says softly. He knows the answer, he just wants to hear you say it.

“So bad, Cass,” you respond, the tone of your voice getting breathier at his touch.

He slips a finger into your already wet cunt, pulling a sharp gasp from you. He curls his finger upwards against your walls as you grow wetter around him. He slips another in and your walls expand around the thickness of his digits. In no time, he pulls your first orgasm from you, your cunt clenching around his fingers as you ride out your high. You do your best to keep quiet, keeping your moans controlled as you soak his fingers.

He removes them from you and slides off your shorts. He pulls off his shirt and hastily removes his pants, desperate to be buried inside you already. He gathers your wetness on his hand and slicks his cock before entering you slowly, closing his eyes at the warm and inviting feeling. He buries his cock inside you to the hilt and curses under his breath. His hands grip your hips as he thrusts in and out of you, brushing your g-spot with each thrust of his cock. You look up at him with the moonlight and stars behind him; truly a sight to behold, your lover above you pounding you on a beach with the beautiful sky above him. He grabs your hand with one final thrust you’re coming around him. Unlike before you can’t keep your moans back, letting them flow out freely and he loves it.

“Tell me how good it feels, baby,” he says.

“It’s so good, Cass. So big.”

Due to your praise he’s at edge, pulling out of you swiftly and coming on your stomach yet again. He lays down next to you and pulls you into his chest. He presses a kiss on the top of your head and says, “Thank you… for understanding.”

“Of course, Cassian.”

“I just love being here with you.”

“Me, too,” you whisper back.

It melts your heart just how comfortable with you he is. You know he’s still not telling you everything about his past but you can tell it’s hard. And you can tell he desperately needed this time to relax and enjoy himself. There’s so much history and pain in his eyes. And you want nothing more than to just be there for him.

A week has passed since Cassian confessed his real name to you and you’ve gotten more used to calling him that. He hasn’t mentioned any plans of leaving just yet and you not so secretly hope he’ll just stay forever, whether at the resort or in a place of his own on Niamos.

It’s your day off again and you wake up in his bed again, naked and wrapped in the bed sheets. You hear the refresher going and call for him, “Cass?”

“Just washing up, sweetheart,” he responds.

You roll out of bed and get up just as he’s leaving the refresher, shirtless and skin still glistening.

“What are you doing up? Rest, baby.”

“But-”

“Shh rest. I’m just running to Arkie’s for more revnog and revnog, okay? Got any requests?”

“Hmm the green ones,” you say, retreating back to the bed. He bends down and kisses you before pulling on his shirt and saying, “You got it, sweetheart. I’ll be back soon.”

“Okay,” you sigh as you hear the door close.

You lay in bed for a while before deciding to wash up yourself. You get dressed and sit on the edge of the bed and it dawns on you… he’s been gone for an unusually long time. Arkie’s isn’t that far from here and he was only grabbing two things. Where could he possibly be?

Eventually nightfall rolls around and he’s still not back yet. You don’t dare to make a missing persons report because of the secrecy around his name. So instead you just feel helpless.

It’s the next day now and there’s still no sign of him. He paid for two more days in his current room and you opt to stay there just in case he returns. But he doesn’t. When it’s time to check out of the room you gather his things and take them back to your place, still holding onto hope that he’ll come back.

But days turn into weeks and still… nothing. You’re starting to think he just played you. That he just had you when he could because you were convenient. But then again when he told you about his name and how much he loved spending time with you he seemed so sincere. The constant back and forth in your mind is eating you up inside.

Mara notices he’s gone and brings herself to ask about him one day in the break room.

“Haven’t seen your friend in a while,” she comments.

“Nope,” you sigh.

“I’m sorry, girl. I guess it was just a summer fling.”

You let out a long sigh. Just a summer fling indeed.

Part two: This Love Came Back to Me

Soooo I don't really do tag lists anymore but I'm really excited about this one so I tagged who ever interacted with the announcement post and some folks I thought might enjoy this based on my other Cassian fics 🥹

If you’d like to be removed shoot me a dm or ask 🖤

But if you're interested in more of my Cassian fics or any of my fics in general follow @beskarandblastersfics and turn on post notifications! 🥰

Tag list: @wannab-urs @dinsdjrn @readingfan @septimaseverina @toxicanonymity @pedrit0-pascalit0 @pedritosdarling @popsycles @aaronsaxon @radcollectivesoul @forlornghosts @gingaaaaa @twirl731 @exo-wayv @thesoftdumbass @hellomoonlightluna @axshadows @castiellover77 @lunapascal @stagerightlauren @selfryed @lilacspider @basicoccult

#cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x you #cassian andor x f!reader #cassian andor smut #cassian andor fanfiction #andor fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #cassian andor #diego luna #diego luna fanfiction #diego luna characters #star wars

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mygirljunhee · 3 months

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LUNA ☾ MADONNA

#luna #f(x)#idolady #kpopggedit #kgoddesses #ksoloists #fx #idk who to tag for Luna so uh. If I tag you and you don't care totally feel free to ignore !!!!#usermairin #heysae #useroro #userkngld #aleksbestie #easily one of my fave releases & I finally was like why not gif it #addy.gifs

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musings-of-a-rose · 7 months

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Falling Slowly - Chapter 1

Pairing: Tommy Miller x f!reader

Word Count: 2000+

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

It’s crowded in here tonight. Not quite theme park during season full, but close enough. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t seriously need a drink after the day I had at work. And this bar was the closest place to home that was still open.

Or maybe I just pulled into the first place I found.

I somehow manage to score a seat at the crowded bar, sliding quickly onto the stool that’s still warm from its previous occupant. I raise my hand to the bartender and she nods, taking another 2 orders before taking mine.

“Rum and Coke. Less Coke.”

She smiles, tossing me a wink before she walks off to make the drinks. I have to admit I’m mildly impressed by her memory, as she had taken at least 10 drink orders before mine and memorized them all. No wonder she has an overflowing tip jar.

It probably helps that she has giant tits too.

I take a few sips, letting the warmth of the rum spread through me, loosening my muscles before setting the glass down. The music playing is stupid loud, but the people seem to like it, jamming their sweaty bodies together in a tight group in the middle of the dance floor.

I’ll admit, this isn’t typically my scene. But the patients today were really on their game of trying to piss me off and I decided I earned a drink. I just wish I’d known how loud it would be. Thankfully, I'm not on call tomorrow.

“Hello, gorgeous.”

A man sits next to me, shifting his body so he’s facing me. When I don’t respond, he repeats himself, a little louder.

“I’m ok, thanks.” I try to let him down easy, but turning down a man who’s tipsy and looking to get laid is not an easy thing to do.

“Not yet you aren’t. We haven’t even spoken yet.”

Sighing, I turn my head to look at him. He’s all blue eyes and light hair, a slight tan on his face but one from hanging out at the pool and not from manual labor. I’d be surprised if this guy had to work for anything.

“I’m flattered, really, but I just want to drink in peace.”

“Oh, come on now, gorgeous. A little conversation won’t hurt.”

“Really, I’m good.” I turn my head back to my drink, removing my hand from the top of it to take a sip.

“You look stressed. I can help with that.”

His hand finds its way to my thigh, squeezing me slightly. But before I can do anything, a different, larger hand removes it for me.

“She said she was done talkin’.”

This new guy is gorgeous. Broad shoulders, a barrel chest, arms that could totally lift me, coupled with beautiful black curls, freckles speckled across his olive skin, accentuating his eyes, which I'm sure are normally kind when they aren't staring down an asshole.

The man who was talking to me yanks his hand away and stands up, the bar stool scraping across the floor.

"Fuck off, friend."

"Not until you leave the lady alone."

The man puffs up his chest, sticking his pointer finger out, jabbing at the man with the curls that I'd love to touch.

"Why don't you fuck off so you don't get hurt, hhmm? Me and the lady were getting along just fine."

The man with the curls looks at me and I shake my head, both to say I'm never going anywhere with this man and please don't get yourself hurt.

"Doesn't look like she wants to go with you."

The man glances over at me and I fix my face into what I hope is confidence.

"No way. I'm not going anywhere with you."

The man narrows his eyes. "I bought you a drink. The least you could do is come home with me."

Curls laughs and oh, I would love to hear that sound again. "Imagine being such a dick that you think forcing a drink upon a woman entitles you to sleep with her."

The man draws his fist back and quickly releases, punching Curls straight in the nose, his head flying backwards. He stumbles but doesn't go down, his hand swiping at his nose to see its already bleeding. The man tries to grab for me but Curls stops him, landing several good punches of his own.

"Stop! He's not worth it!" I try to step in but it's pointless. I can't get close enough to stop anything.

A minute or so later it doesn't matter because the cops show up, separating the men and loading them both into the back of cop cars, Curls meeting my eyes and giving me a small smile before he's pushed into the cab.

"Excuse me," I stop one of the cops. "Which jail is he going to?"

"Travis County. The one on 10th."

"Thanks."

The men load up and take off as I turn to walk to my car and head to the police station. When I arrive, the desk officer tells me I'll have to wait a while for them to be processed, but that they will both make bail.

So I wait.

Several hours later, the kind desk officer rouses me awake and let's me know I can post bail. I do and they ask me to wait in the lobby while they bring him to the front. When he comes around the corner, he's talking to the officer that's escorting him.

"Yes sir, but can you tell me who posted my bail?"

The officer nods in my direction while extending his arm out, indicating that the man should proceed without him. Curls turns in the direction the officer pointed him and locks eyes with me as I stand, folding my jacket over my arm. He smiles as we walk towards each other, making my cheeks feel warm under his gaze.

"You bailed me out?"

"I had to. You saved me."

God his smile is like sunshine. "Oh, you didn't owe me anything, darlin'."

"I definitely did. That guy was a creep and who knows what else he could've done?"

"Well at least let me pay you back the bail?"

I wave my hand at him. "No way."

"There must be some way for me to pay you back?"

I gesture at his face. "How about you let me take care of that?"

He touches his nose and looks at his hand, seeing some dried blood. "Oh, no that's ok. I'll just go clean up-"

I step closer to him, hand stretching towards his face. "I can't believe they didn't get you checked out."

"Ah I'll be alright."

"Stop arguing and come with me."

He looks at me, all brown eyes and tiny freckles, a small smile tugging up the corners of his mouth. "Yes ma'am."

Oh I am so fucked.

He follows me to my car and gets in the passenger side. As I turn the key on the ignition, I realize I don't even know his name.

"I'm Tommy by the way."

I tell him my name. "But my friends call me Daisy."

"Well it's nice to meet you, Daisy."

We make it back to my place, as his truck had been impounded and so unavailable until morning. Tommy tries to decline my offer of a place to stay while he waits for his truck, until I ask if I'm so offensive looking that he wouldn't want to come up to my apartment.

"No way, ma'am. Quite the opposite."

He follows me upstairs, kicking off his boots when I kick off my shoes. He looks around nervously and I see him scanning all the windows and doors.

"You serve?" I ask.

He looks at me, eyebrows raised. "Yeah. Desert Storm. How'd you know?"

"My dad always scans a place when he enters it. I'm assuming you'll want your back to a wall too? Exits visible?"

"I…yeah. That would be preferable."

I gesture to my couch, which is against the wall. "Have a seat. Let me get my first aid kit."

I grab my kit and some ice in a bag and sit next to Tommy, who turns his broad chest towards me when he sits up. His eyes glance behind me at my bookshelf.

"That shelf looks like it's on its last leg."

I chuckle. "Probably is. I've had it forever and it wasn't high quality to begin with. Just some Ikea shit."

He groans, like I’ve just offended his entire ancestor line. "No, not Ikea! I could make you some new ones."

"What, are you a carpenter or something?"

"Similiar. Contractor. But I do know my way around wood."

"So do I."

Tommy shifts his legs at my implication and I smirk, dabbing at the now dried blood on his face, cradling his chin with my other hand.

His eyes are on me, so close I can feel his breath puffing out against my skin and I feel heat starting to pool between my thighs.

"Pride and Prejudice?" He asks.

"What?"

"On your shelf."

"Oh. Yeah. Haven't read it in a while but I was obsessed when I was little. Wait - have you read it?"

He smirks. "Are you surprised?"

"A little."

"My niece needed help with her book report. So I read it to be able to help her."

"You read an entire book to help your niece with a paper?"

"Yeah."

"That's really sweet. Not many people would do that."

"Oh I'm not many people."

"That's for sure.. hey Tommy, are you hungry? I have some pizza left over."

His eyes flick between mine, a soft smile appearing on his face.

"I love pizza."

"Great!" I move to the kitchen and start getting out the pizza, putting some slices on my pizza stone and turning on the oven to preheat it.

"I rented the new X-Men movie from Blockbuster. Have you seen it?" I ask as the oven bings and I slide the pizza in it.

"You managed to snag a copy?"

"I bribed the cashier."

He chuckles. "I haven't seen it yet."

"Ok cool. I'll put that on for us."

The pizza finishes reheating and I divvy it up, offering Tommy a beer. We sit on the couch, plates on the coffee table as I get out the DVD. Tommy whistles.

"You got a DVD player?"

"Yeah. It was my one splurge on myself when I moved here. Well that and a new mattress."

I fast forward through the commercials, cursing the makers for not adding a "skip ad" button.

"Is your boyfriend gonna be alright with us hanging out?"

“Yeah, no. I don’t have one of those.”

Tommy sits up a little straighter. “Oh? Why not?”

I shrug. “I just moved to a whole new city and wanted to settle in. I don’t like long distance because it just never works out. Plus I can’t deal with all the-” I twist my wrist in a circle “- neediness?”

Tommy chuckles. “Neediness?”

“Yeah. My job takes a lot out of me and honestly, I don’t have the mental space for a boyfriend right now. That’s why I like you.”

Tommy points to himself, eyebrows raised in question. “Me?”

“Yeah. I’ve only known you a few hours but you’ve already saved my ass and don’t act all high and mighty. Plus you have great taste in books and movies.”

Tommy and I finish watching the movie and I drive him back to the impound lot now that it’s open. We exchange numbers and promise to hang out again, both of us missing the glances in the other’s direction. Although I’m pretty sure he caught me staring at his ass when he was standing at the checkout counter.

“So you’re just….friends?”

Tommy nods, taking another sip of his beer. “That’s what I said, Joel.”

Joel studies his brother, his eyes narrowing. “She pretty?”

“So pretty she’d make a man plow through a stump.”

The corner’s of Joel mouth tick up for a second before he fixes a stern look on his face. “Be careful, Tommy. It’s hard for men and women to be friends if they’re attracted to each other. Someone’s bound to get hurt.”

“That would mean she’s attracted to me, big brother, and there’s no way. She ain’t lookin’.”

“Mmmhmm.”

“‘Sides, don’t you want a good example set for Sarah? That boys and girls can just be friends?”

Joel shakes his head, pointing at Tommy. “I don’t want her near any boys for any reason for her entire life.”

>>Chapter 2>>

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