#an interesting way but uh no not really and it just ramped up towards the end which is why this sounds angrier then i thought it would | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

mandos-sluts · 3 years

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The Botched Mission

The Mandolorian x Fem!Reader

Rating: Explicit

Wordcount: 3.3k

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, dubious consent, degradation, daddy kink, mutual masterbation, dirty talk, voyeurism

Summary: You work for the Empire and are tasked with spying on Mando. You don’t do a great job at concealing your efforts.

A/N: Please message us or comment if you want to be on our tag list!!

You were born and raised in the Empire. Your mother was an admiral in the Imperial Security Bureau under Moff Gideon and your father died in battle during the Great Purge. The more you grew up, the more you questioned the Empire’s actions and ideology, but it didn’t really matter. There was no getting out for you— your entire livelihood was supported by the Empire.

Your commanding officer has given you a mission on Tatooine. You are to go undercover as a mechanic and surveill the Mandalorian Din Djarin. It was known that he knew of the force-sensitive child’s location and had dealings with other Jedi, thus, he was of great interest to the Empire.

***********************

The Mandalorian’s ship is scheduled to undergo maintenance for two days on Tatooine. You stand in the hangar and watch as the beat up Razor Crest lands. The ship’s hatch opens and there standing tall is the Mandalorian, covered from head to toe in shiny silver beskar. He walks confidently down the ramp and towards you.

You open your mouth to introduce yourself when he tosses a bag of credits to you. “I need the repairs completed by tomorrow afternoon.” He says in a deep voice, towering over you and gazing into your eyes.

Shit. You’re….you’re really attracted to him. The way he carries himself is so hot— his assertive demeanor, his voice. “Yeah, absolutely, no– no problem sir.” You stutter out. “Um, I’m y/n.”

Mando nods his head and then walks right past you, leaving you standing there with your panties damp.

He exits the hangar and all he can think about is you. Fuck, since when were mechanics so beautiful?

You shake your head and try to focus. Heading into the ship, you begin installing hidden cameras all over. An actual mechanic employed by the Empire meanwhile gets to work making repairs.

You consider waiting around for Mando to return for the evening, just so you can interact with him more, but once it gets dark, you head to the inn that you’re staying at. Mando arrives back to his ship a little after you return to your room.

Your boss made it clear that she wants you to watch him whenever he’s not sleeping. Which honestly is stupid, it’s not like he’s going to talk to himself and reveal important information? You lie back in your bed with the screen on your lap and watch the live feed of the cameras in the ship, already bored out of your mind. The camera’s are super high quality; the picture and audio are both crystal clear. A few minutes later, you see the hatch open and watch Mando enter the ship.

Mando notices the cameras almost instantly. To be fair, you always half-assed your missions; you really don’t care about advancing the Empire’s agenda or doing your job well. Mando lets out a long annoyed sigh. He knew you didn’t look like a mechanic!

His first thought is to take down all of the cameras, apprehend you, and turn you over to the New Republic. There are only a few lodges in town and it wouldn’t be hard for him to track you down. On the other hand...he figures he could have some fun with this.

Pretending he isn’t aware of the cameras, Mando puts his weapons away in his arsonal just like he does every night.

Shit, you think to yourself. His collection of weapons is massive, he could kill you with such little effort if he wanted to.

Mando heads up to the cockpit and slumps down in the pilot’s chair. He stretches his legs out and takes a deep breath. Bringing his hand down to his crotch, he starts rubbing himself over his pants.

Your eyes widen and you sit up in your bed. Is– is he doing what it looks like he’s doing? You feel arousal shoot to your pussy as you watch a tent form in Mando’s pants.

Mando knows you’re watching him, and he saw how nervous he made you earlier today, so he knows that you’re too curious and horny to turn it off. He unbuttons his pants and releases his long, thick cock. He takes his length in his hand and spreads his precum around up and down his shaft, letting out a moan.

Your panties are soaked at this point and your pussy is begging to be touched. You bring your hand down and start rubbing your clit over your shorts, your eyes are glued to the screen.

Mando starts pumping his cock up and down, faster and faster. You’ve never been so turned on in your entire life. You trail your hand into your pants and start circling your wet clit. You know this is super creepy of you, but you can’t bring yourself to care.

Mando’s breathing picks up as he fucks his hand even harder.

“Ah fuck.” He spits out.

Ugh his voice is so sexy–

“Fuck, y/n. Yeah, that’s a good girl.”

Your heart drops and your hand freezes. He just said your name...He’s jerking off thinking about you. Did you even tell him your name?

“That’s right, y/n, ride my cock, pretty girl.” He breathes out.

You’re shocked and your cunt starts throbbing. Mando has the biggest cock you have ever seen, like...holy shit. You can’t handle how horny you are right now. The fact that you can’t hop on his lap and start bouncing on his dick makes you want to cry. You start whimpering as you glide your fingers along your slick and watch Mando growl your name.

Mando grips the arm of his chair as he feels his orgasm approaching. He’s so hard knowing that you’re watching him.

“Ahhhhhh fuuuckkkkk, yyy/nnn” Mando moans as you watch his cum spew out of him.

Feeling your own orgasm coming on, you quickly turn off the monitor, close your eyes, and start pumping your finger in and out of your hole. It takes you less than twenty seconds to cum, thinking about Mando saying your name while jerking off.

You don’t bother to turn the monitor back on for the rest of the night. You go to sleep replaying those images of Mando in your head over and over again.

************************

The next morning, Mando leaves his ship for the day at dawn and you head over to the hangar a few hours later. The mechanic is finishing up the final repairs when you arrive.

In case Mando asks you about the repairs, the mechanic gives you an overview of everything she did. You listen intently....for about a minute, but then end up inadvertently tuning her out, thinking about what you witnessed last night.

“Got it?” She says, jolting you back to reality.

“Y-yes totally.” You lie.

The mechanic leaves and you grab a seat at a table in the hangar, waiting patiently for Mando to return.

A few hours later, Mando struts into the hangar. He strolls right past you up to the Crest. “The ship done?” He asks shortly, not even looking back at you.

“Yes, everything is in order sir, have a good flight.” You say nervously, turning around to exit.

“Wait.” He says, stopping you in your tracks. “I have a few questions before I depart.” Mando says as he opens the hatch.

“Um, s-sure.” You say, following him into the ship.

Mando starts up the Crest and does a lap around the first level, examining all the areas where work was presumably done. The ship is in great shape, but he knows that you didn’t do any of it.

“Are the front deflectors operating at full capacity?” Mando asks in his deep, modulated voice.

“Uh, y-yeah.” You respond. You’re standing against the wall trying your best to keep cool and act like you know what he’s talking about.

“Did you fix the leak in the carbonite system?” He asks.

“Y-yes.”

“How did you get the ion acceleration chamber running again?” He questions without looking up, continuing to walk around and inspect the ship.

“Uh, um–”

Mando turns his gaze to you. “Did you rewire the calcinator or instal a new thruster nozzle?

“Um I did it by rewiring the– the thunder novel...”

Mando begins walking toward you. “How is the repulsor grille functioning?”

“I– I um...I just, I– the ship–”

Mando is now standing directly in front of you, staring into your desperate intimidated eyes. “What’s the matter, little girl, don’t know the answer?” He says moving even closer to you.

“N-no I know–”

“Can you tell me about the work you did on the engines?” He interrupts. “Or why don’t you tell me about these cameras you installed first.” He says, reaching over you and yanking one of the cameras out of the wall above you.

Your heart drops. “I-I didn’t put those there.” You stutter out.

“Drop the act, y/n. I know you’re not a mechanic. I know you work for the Empire.”

Fuck, you are so busted–

“And I know you watched me last night. Sweetheart, it’s written all over your face.” He says lightly, grabbing your chin and pulling your head up so that you’re looking directly into his visor.

Your heart is beating out of your chest and you can feel your face is bright red. You’re trembling with fear but you are also so turned on. Your pussy is throbbing as your breath heavily and stare into Mando’s visor with doe eyes.

“I—”

“Tell me, pretty girl.” He interrupts you again. “Did you like watching me jerk off?” He asks in a deep tone as he runs his other hand down your body to your waist.

“Y-yes.” You whisper with humiliation.

Mando brings his hand between your legs and dances his fingers on your crotch. “Did you touch yourself while you watched me?”

You nod your head slowly.

“What a fuckin naughty girl.” He says pushing you hard against the wall. He pushes your shorts to the side and slides his fingers into your panties. You let out a high-pitched exhale, still maintaining eye contact with him

“Damn. So wet already.” He says in a low rough voice. “You’re a desperate little thing, aren’t you? Those Storm Trooper boys can’t fuck you good, can they?” He says mockingly. “Maybe I should turn you over to the New Republic.” He utters as his other hand lightly grabs your throat. “Or, maybe I should come up with my own form of punishment for you.” Mando says as he thrusts his middle finger up inside of you.

You let out a gasp and your mouth falls open as he starts pumping your hole. “I’ve never fucked a slut from the Empire before.” He says, tightening his grip on your throat. You’re so wet you can hear his finger moving in and out of you.

“What do you think, you little criminal?” He says in a sultry tone.

“Ahhh!” You moan out. “I– I think you should– ahh– punish me, Mando.” You whine, batting your eyes at him as he drives his finger in and out of your cunt.

Mando grinds his bulge against your stomach. “Yeah? Then you’d better be an obedient little whore for me.”

Mando pulls his fingers out of you. He abruptly shoves down your shorts and rips off your top. “What are you–”

“Shut up.” He snaps as he turns you around and shoves you back against the wall. “Hands against the wall.” You do as you’re told.

You hear your shirt rip again and all of the sudden your vision goes black as you feel Mando tying fabric around your eyes. You’re naked except for a thong and blind fold, with your cheek and palms flat against the metal wall. One by one, you hear pieces of Mando’s armor hitting the floor. *see gif* Then you feel his bulge grind against your ass and one hand wrapping around your throat while the other grabs your tit.

His lips come to your ear. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to walk for a fuckin week.” He breathes in your ear. “Your pretty little cunt is gonna be overflowing with my cum when I’m done with you.” He growls, roughly kneading your tit.

“Yes daddy” You moan in response.

Mando loves that you called him daddy. He grabs your hair and pulls it back and down, tilting your head back and making your back arch while your hands stay flat on the metal wall. With his hold still on your hair, you feel his warm lips plant onto yours, his facial hair rubbing against your skin. His lips move down your cheek to your neck, and he sucks on your smooth skin while pulling your hair back. Pulling away, he can already see the bruise of the hickey forming on your neck.

Mando pulls away from you and steps back, taking a moment to admire how vulnerable you look, blindfolded and panting against his wall. Then you feel his hand smack your ass check, and you let out a yelp. He does it twice more against the other cheek and you can’t help but cry out.

“Shut up, slut. I told you I was gonna punish you.” He says as he pulls your g-string up, making its fabric drag and pull against your clit. He spanks you again. Arousal shoots to your cunt, and it is dripping wet.

Mando spins you around again and slams your back against the wall. He once more grabs your hair and pulls your head back, exposing your neck so perfectly for him. Mando grabs your ass and pulls you up against him. “Open your mouth.” He commands in a stern voice, still pulling your hair down.

Your lips part wide and Mando bites your bottom lip before spitting in your mouth. “Swallow.” He orders. You close your mouth and swallow his sweet saliva down your throat.

Mando picks you up and you instinctively wrap your legs around him. He sets you down on a metal table and rips your thong off of you. Your legs are wide open, your pussy splayed out on the table for Mando to admire as he pulls his shirt over his head. He runs two fingers up and down slick and then shoves them in your mouth. “You gonna be a good girl and show me how needy this little cunt is?” He whispers in your ear while you suck his fingers.

He removes his fingers from your mouth. “Yes.” You breathe out.

“Yes, what?” Mando says slapping your outer thigh.

“I– I’m gonna be a good girl for you, daddy. And sh–show you how– how needy I am for your cock.” You stammer out.

Mando hums in response as he lines his tip up with your entrance. One of your hands is wrapped around his neck and the palm of your other hand is flat against his warm hard chest.

You feel his warm precum against your tender skin as he pushes the head of his dick into you. Your mouth falls open and you gasp. He does a few thrusts with half his length and it’s already more than you can handle.

“Fuck!” You spit out in a high pitched voice.

“Shit–” Mando snaps. “How are you so fuckin tight?” He says, seeming genuinely frustrated.

You’re being so stretched out you can’t form a response. You just sit there, wrapped around Mando, breathing heavily with your mouth agape, trying your best to adjust to his size.

“You’re squeezing the shit out of my cock. Ah you feel so fuckin good.” Mando groans in your ear as he pushes more of his member inside of you. He then abruptly snaps his hips and thrusts all the way inside of you.

You scream out “Fuck!” And dig your nails into his back.

Mando starts pumping in you slowly. “You’re doing so good, baby girl, taking my big cock in your tight pussy so well.”

He brings more of his length out and picks up the pace.“Ahhhhh Mando! Fuck!” You cry.

“What’d you call me?” He says, snapping his hips into you hard.

“Daddy!” You squeal. “Daddy! I–I’m sorry! Daddy fuck your cock is– is so big!” You wine between thrusts. He puts his lips on your mouth.

“I know, pretty girl” He whispers in your mouth. “You’re doing good.”

He starts thrusting faster and you lose control of the moans that escape your lips. You’re holding onto him for dear life as he pounds into you, his hands clutching your hips. Mando pushes you down so that you’re lying on the table and swings one of your legs up on his shoulder, providing him an even better angle, allowing him to drive his cock right into your G-spot.

“Ahhh daddy, yes! Fuck! Right there, please!” You scream.

Mando holds your leg against his chest with one arm and brings his other hand to grip your throat.

“Do– do the Imps know they have a filthy– ahh– filthy fuckin cockslut working for them?” He mocks. “What would they say if they knew you agreed to be your target’s dirty little fucktoy? Huh?”

All you can do in response is scream and moan. Mando removes his hand from your throat and drags it down your stomach. He starts circling your clit and you begin to see stars. Your whole body starts shaking and your cunt clenches down on Mando’s cock. “Fuck, I– I’m gonna cum!” You exclaim. Your pussy starts pulsing like never before as you feel your orgasm overtake you.

“Yes, ahhh fuck! This pussy was– was made for my cock, shit.” Mando says as he rides you through your orgasm. He loves watching you come apart on a table in his ship, blindfolded and helpless.

Mando can feel his own climax nearing and he clasps your hips tight. His fast thrusts lose rhythm and you can feel his cock getting stiff in your cunt. He pumps his cock a few more times and then you feel his warm cum surge inside of you. “Fuuuccckkk.” Mando grunts as his white juices fill your hole.

He pulls out of you and scoots you to sit further back on the table as he redresses. You can feel his cum trickling out of your pussy onto the cold metal table beneath you. You close your legs— without him pressed up against you and without your sight, you feel so exposed and awkward.

You hear the hiss of his helmet and then feel his hands pushing your legs back open again, displaying your abused and leaking cunt. Mando unties the makeshift blind fold, and you see him standing fully clothed and armored in front of you. He wraps one hand around your waist and pushes your thigh further apart with his other hand.

“You look so pretty like this.” He says in his deep, modulated voice. “Come on.” He says with his hand still around your waist, motioning you off the table. You hop off and your legs immediately give out, your body falling to the floor.

Mando scoffs and pulls you up. “I told you you wouldn’t be able to walk.”

“You’re a man of your word.” You say sarcastically.

“Guess that means I’ll have to uninstall all the fuckin cameras you hid all over my ship.” Mando says as he sweeps you off your feet. He carries you into his sleeping quarters.

“No. Keep them.” You say with a side smile as he lays you down on the bed. “I like watching you jerk off. Especially when you jerk off while moaning my name.” You pull the blankets to cover you.

Mando sits on the bed that you’re lying on “Fuck.” He says caressing your cheek. “If you didn’t work for the Empire I’d take you with me.” Mando says bluntly.

“Take me with you, Mando!” You say sitting up. “I don’t wanna work for the Empire. Fuck the Empire. I’ve been looking for a way for so long.”

Mando smiles underneath his helmet. “Well, good thing you did such a shit job at your mission.”

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Masterlist

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fific7 · 3 years

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Ticket to Ride - Part 6

Billy Russo x Reader

A/N: Inspired by The Beatles song of the same name. This takes place in my S1 Punisher AU with Arrogant!Billy in attendance, in which he gets a taste of his own medicine. Here we are at the final part!

Warnings: 18+ NSFW due to sexual content, including oral and unprotected, between consenting adults* in some chapters. Drinking and swearing.

*Irl, please don’t go wild in the country without protection.

(My photo edit and my photos of Murano & Burano)

𝕄𝕪 𝕓𝕒𝕓𝕪 𝕕𝕠𝕟'𝕥 𝕔𝕒𝕣𝕖

{…𝕠𝕣 𝕕𝕠𝕖𝕤 𝕤𝕙𝕖?}

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy awoke early the next morning, reaching over to his phone on the bedside table and tapping the screen to see what time it was. Seven. Plenty of time to have a shower and make his way down to the breakfast room.

Standing under the stream of hot water, he couldn’t help feeling apprehensive. What if she had done another runner? He wouldn’t be able to cope with that. He didn’t think she would have, but…. he just wasn’t 100% sure what she was thinking or feeling right now.

After his full disclosure of what he’d got up to with Madani followed swiftly by his confession of love last night, he felt more optimistic but he could tell she was still conflicted.

He’d just have to do whatever he could today to persuade her to give him another chance.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Making your way into the light and airy breakfast room at just after eight, you couldn’t deny you were pleased to see Billy, sitting up super straight like a well-behaved schoolboy, already at a table.

His face broke into a huge smile when he spotted you, and you could see a large measure of relief wrapped up in it. You knew he would’ve been wondering if you had run out on him again. But no, you’d decided overnight to at least see how things went today on your trip to the Lagoon Islands.

He’d thrown you a curveball by telling you he loved you last night, and while you were relieved to hear that he hadn’t slept with that woman (his anger when you’d pushed him on it had finally convinced you that he hadn’t), you still weren’t exactly happy with what he had admitted to doing. It was still cheating in your book.

Could you ever really trust him again?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy fussed over her like a mother hen when she sat down across from him at the table, jumping up and rushing over to the buffet table, picking out a selection of toast, focaccia, butter, jams and Nutella for her along with a couple of mini pain au chocolat croissants. They were her favourites so he felt quite proud of himself as he laid the plate before her like the spoils of war, before making his way to the coffee machine and creating a cappuccino for her.

“Thank you, Billy - you’re spoiling me,” she said with a small grin. “Your every wish is my command, Princess,” he smiled back, hand covering hers and stroking gently. Now she started properly laughing at him, and he huffed, slightly offended. Once she’d calmed down a bit she said, “Honestly Billy, you don’t have to wait on me hand and foot. All I need from you is complete honesty.” Billy tried to look as convincing as he possibly could, “I will be, sweetheart, I promise.”

She took a sip of her cappuccino, and fixed him with an intense stare. “Bearing that in mind, Billy, just what exactly was going through your mind when you were making out with Madani?”

Billy blew out a big breath; he hadn’t seen that coming. “Well… uhh… nothin’ really. I was just doing somethin’ I had to do, and needed to get it over with as quick as possible.” Another sip of coffee, another intense look from her. “Uh-huh. So you didn’t enjoy it then? Is that what you’re saying?”

Billy suddenly felt like he was back on very thin ice. He could feel himself squirming in his seat, and fought to keep still. Madani was, in all truth, a pretty woman.

Fuck.

What should he say in reply to that?

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your eyes were drilling into Billy’s, and he looked about as comfortable as someone who’d just found out he’d got a scorpion down his trousers.

His face flushed pink, so you could guess what that meant. He cleared his throat, and then said in a low voice, “Look, she’s not bad lookin’ so it wasn’t as uncomfortable as it could’ve been.”

You smirked, not ready to let him off the hook yet, “So you were attracted to her, then. Not sure I’m happy to hear that, Billy.”

“NO! No, I wasn’t. Well.. like I said, she’s not unattractive but I’m not interested in her.”

You picked up your knife and aggressively sliced right through one of croissants. The look on Billy’s face was priceless. No doubt he’d guessed that the croissant was a surrogate for a certain part of his anatomy.

“Sweetheart, they weren’t long or involved kisses… not real ones, not like between you an’ me,” he said in a worried tone, very unlike his usual assertive manner. “Sweetheart, you’re the one I’m in love with. The only one I want to be with.” He was gazing earnestly at you, hand covering yours.

You cut off another piece of croissant and popped it into your mouth.

Billy would have to work a hell of a lot harder than that today if he was going to get you back, you thought.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Once the vaporetto had moored alongside the jetty you walked on board the boat up the ramp in front of Billy, while the disembarking passengers walked down the other side of it as it swayed from side to side, the boat moving in its own wake. The crew member who’d expertly tied up the boat a few moments ago was still calling out “Palanca, Palanca” as you headed through the covered section to the open area right at the back, sitting down on the bench seat in the stern and turning your face up to the sun.

Billy sat next to you, scooting as close to you as he could, suddenly lunging in for a hungry kiss. Two mothers with children in tow emerged through the doors leading from the salon, and you pushed him away while hastily smiling at the newcomers, saying, “Giorno” to them. Both of them smiled at you, returning your greeting, but then their eyes slid over to Billy and you saw both sets widening as they looked him over. You sighed. Having a hot boyfriend sucked sometimes. And Billy was looking particularly hot today in leather jacket, white t-shirt, black jeans and combat boots.

However, you noticed that Billy’s eyes were glued to you, still gazing at you ever since you’d fended him off. You didn’t think he’d even glanced at the other two women.

OK, Russo - one point on the plus side to you, you conceded.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was paying full attention to his girl. He felt slightly triumphant that he’d managed to steal a kiss, and she’d only shoved him away when he’d vaguely heard the salon doors opening behind him.

He was so worried that she still hadn’t made her mind up whether to take him back or not, and he knew that today was his final chance to convince her to do so. Whatever was in his power to do, he’d do, to make that happen. And he wasn’t dumb, that meant not paying any attention whatsoever to any other females in the vicinity. He’d guessed that a couple of women had arrived along with the kids he could hear squealing and laughing just out of his sight line, so he made sure he kept his eyes trained solely on her.

Her lips curved upwards in a small smile as she looked back at him.

Pleased, he thought - ha, think I just scored a point there.

He wondered how many more of those he needed to rack up to finally win his woman back.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

There were no direct vaporetti lines to the Lagoon Islands so you had to firstly go to Fondamente Nove, which was a busy hub for several of the numerous lines. You wanted to visit two of the main islands; Murano - where Venetians had made their famed glass items for centuries - and Burano, an island of fishermen and lacemakers. You were really excited to go there, as the houses were painted in a rainbow of colours. Legend had it that this was so the returning fishermen could spot their own individual houses as they returned home across the lagoon.

You needed to find the ferry stop for Line 12, which luckily Billy spotted just as the two of you were about to walk right past it. There was a vaporetto arriving just as you did and swiping your travel passes, you went aboard and took seats in the salon. This ferry was a slightly different type to the others you’d been on, longer and lower and was soon packed with locals and tourists alike.

It took a little while to arrive at Murano, alighting at the Faro stop. They still produced glassware on Murano but nothing like as much as they had in the past. You and Billy wandered alongside one of the main canals, looking into the windows of all the little glass shops until you came to the entrance of one of the big glass foundries.

They offered tours of the workshop and of course also had a shop, so the two of you paid for the tour and watched in amazement as an old man took a fiery red and yellow blob onto the end of a pole, and blew and turned it until it started to take on the shape of a little vase.

In the store, you browsed along the shelves looking at all the glassware on display, until you suddenly noticed you were alone. Glancing around, you spotted a dark head over in the corner at the cash desk and were heading over there when Billy turned round. His trademark smirk appeared and he hurriedly picked up the little paper carrier bag which was on the counter by its handles and strode towards you.

“See anything you like, sweetheart?”

Smirk getting wider. You eye-rolled and grabbed his arm, noting at the same time that the female sales assistant was still gawping at Billy, even though he now had his back to her. You tugged him towards the door, asking, “What’ve you just bought?” as you went. He shook his head, “Can’t say. It’s a surprise.” You glared at him, “Billy….” but he just kept grinning as you left the store and wouldn’t say anything, even though you nipped at his wrist just below his leather jacket sleeve with your nails.

“Wanna get a coffee?” he suggested, as you resumed your canalside stroll. “Yeah, okay,” you replied, stopping next to the outdoor tables of a small caffé and sitting down, Billy joining you. He slid his hand over yours, “M’glad we’ve got this time together today, sweetheart. Wanna make you understand just how much you mean to me.”

You nodded in acknowledgment before waving at the waiter and ordering two double macchiatos. You carried on, “The main problem I have, Billy, is how I’m ever going to trust you again? You might not think you cheated, but that’s what it is in my book.”

Billy looked over at you, eyes wide, sad …and scared.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy had then looked up and thanked the waiter as the coffees were placed in front of you both. He really didn’t know what to say, to be honest. He knew Frank - and no doubt Karen - also thought that it had counted as cheating. But he truly hadn’t. Well…. Cheating Lite, as he’d already designated it in his head. But not proper, down-and-dirty, long-term cheating. It had been a means to an end. Nothing more, nothing less. He just hadn’t considered the bigger picture. At all. And that had been a big mistake.

He took a sip of his coffee, and cleared his throat before spilling out what had just gone through his head. “Y’know I’m not exactly an expert at relationships, angel. In fact, I’m sure you’ll agree I’m totally shit at them. I need you to keep me on the straight and narrow. Tell me how things need to be. Please don’t give up on us, don’t leave me… please.” Billy was completely and utterly pouring out his heart to her, and he prayed she could see that.

His girl looked at him, some anger and hurt still in her eyes but she managed a shaky breath and looked down into the depths of her coffee cup for a few moments.

Billy held his breath.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Your eyes met his again, “But how am I going to trust you again, Billy, tell me that? Every time you say you’re working late, how d’you expect me not to think you’re meeting up with her or someone else?”

Now it was Billy’s turn to look down. The silence stretched out to a few minutes, and you did nothing to break it. Eventually he looked up at you again, “M’tryin’ to think of how I can prove to you that I’ll never, ever, do something like that again - whether it’s work-related or not.”

He reached across and slid his long fingers between yours, holding onto your hand so tightly it felt like he’d never let go.

“Firstly, I give you my word as an ex-Marine that I won’t ever pull a stunt like this again. Secondly, I’ll be the most attentive boyfriend you’ve ever had. In and out of the sack.” You tried to hide a smile, but you knew he’d seen it. “Thirdly, I’ll put a tracker on my phone, and I’ll hack you into my messagin’ and email apps so you’ll have absolute access to my location and comms.” He was smirking back at you by now, he felt this was going pretty well.

“But you’ve got access to burner phones, Billy.”

His smile dimmed, while his brain scrambled to come up with a solution to this inconvenient fact. You saw his eyes light up and the smirk returned, “Easy. I’ll put Frank in sole charge of issuing them and I’ll tell him not to give me any unless it’s absolutely necessary for an op.”

“Could just buy them in Walmart’s,” you dropped into the slight pause after he’d finished speaking. His face fell again, and now you burst out laughing. “Okay, okay, Billy - I get the message. I see that you’re doing your best to be honest and transparent. There’s no need for you to put all that tracking and hacking in place.”

Billy beamed at you.

“I’ll just get Micro to track your ass.”

His mouth dropped open as you spoke.

“And monitor all your calls and texts.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Woah! thought Billy, didn’t think she’d be getting King Nerd involved. That was probably Karen’s idea. Gee, thanks Karen. But he would agree, what else could he do? And he’d offered to track himself, so it didn’t really matter in any case, did it?

“Uhhh…” he stuttered, “….uhh yeah, whatever you like, sweetheart.”

She smiled over at him, a genuine smile. “It’s OK, Billy. I wouldn’t do that to you.” She side-eyed him, “Unless you give me good cause. Like… coming home stinking of another woman’s perfume ever again.”

His hand went over his heart, and he put on his best puppydog eyes. “Angel, I swear on my life - never. Never. Ever. Again.”

She nodded. “Okay, Billy, I’ll take that as you being on oath now, just like when you joined the Marines.” His eyes widened and he nodded fast. “Yeah. I am. I’m on oath.”

He watched as she drained the very last few drops of her coffee. “Okay, Russo! Let’s go,” she said standing up and picking up her bag.

“Yes, ma’am!” He jumped up and saluted, taking his place at her side as they retraced their steps to the Faro stop and their next vaporetto.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You’d hopped onto the next Line 12 ferry which arrived, and recommenced your onwards journey to Burano. Sitting inside the salon again, the loud chatter around you from the mostly local passengers almost drowned out any conversation you and Billy tried to have. He finally leaned right up against you, snaking his arm round your waist, his lips against your ear.

“Got you a little somethin’, sweetheart.” He handed you the gift bag.

Opening it, you saw a mass of tissue paper inside the bag and took it out. “Careful!” he warned, so you slowly opened up the paper and saw a delicate rose pink heart trinket box sitting at its centre. You lifted its little lid up and then replaced it, delighted with it. Smiling at Billy, you said, “I love it!” into his ear and kissed his cheek. His lips returned to your ear, “See? You have my heart.”

Now you rolled your eyes heavenwards, “I’d stop there if I were you, Russo. Cheesy really doesn’t suit you!” He burst out laughing. “Hey! Give a guy a break. He’s over here layin’ his heart and soul right out in front of you.”

You leant in and kissed him on the lips, before pulling back and saying, “And don’t read too much into that!” But Billy was already grinning happily back at you.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy was happy. His steps were light as he walked beside her from the vaporetto stop along a small street, lined with stalls and shops selling souvenirs and lacework, which eventually led to a square.

She loved the trinket box! he thought, very pleased with himself. The minute he’d seen it he knew that she would, and had decided to buy it on the spot. While he didn’t want her to think he was trying to buy her back, he’d just wanted to make some gesture to show her that he treasured her, the same way she’d treasure the little things she put in it.

He blurted all of this out to her as they strolled along. She stopped walking and looked at him, amazed, “Billy Russo! I think that’s the sweetest thing you’ve ever said to me.” He felt shy suddenly, and he could feel his face heating up. What was happening to him? Is this what love did to you? He didn’t hate it. “It’s how I feel,” he mumbled, looking away from her. He felt her hand on his cheek, “Well, keep that up and maybe, just maybe…”

She turned and started walking again, and Billy hurried to catch up with her. I won’t push it, he thought, I’ll just leave it be while I’m on a winning streak.

There was another street leading off the square which was full of trattorias and caffés, and they chose one of the restaurants to sit outside, the tables rapidly filling as more people from the vaporetto stop arrived.

She’s definitely looking at me more kindly, he thought. Things might just be okay after all.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

After a delicious lunch of pasta and several glasses of wine, you and Billy started exploring the little canals and streets with their cute colourful houses. They looked so bright and beautiful in the sunlight, and you imagined the fishermen back in the day sailing home and being able to see their own little house from afar.

You reached the waterside, beside a quiet little square with houses all around it and some grass in the middle, clothes on washing lines strung across it, blowing in the breeze. There was no-one else around and suddenly you found yourself pressed up against the wall of one of the houses, Billy’s long fingers on the nape of your neck, his hand on your waist. His dark chocolate eyes were gazing into yours, a soft look in them. But you could also feel something a lot harder pressing into your hip, and you saw desire spark in his eyes.

His mouth was on yours and he kissed you, the sudden passion of which took you by surprise. He pulled back, his forehead touching yours. “I’ve missed your touch so much,” he whispered, “…every minute of every day since you.. since you left me.” You laid your hand on his chest, “I missed you too, Billy - even if I did hate you at the time.” He chuckled, “Do you still hate me?” You looked into those beautiful eyes, “No, I guess I don’t. Although you’re still walking a line, Billy.”

He nodded, “I know. I do know. But promise me you’ll give me another chance?” You smiled at him, pushing yourself away from the wall and him, “Let’s see, shall we?”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

Billy tapped on her hotel room door, and gave her a devilish grin as she opened it. He’d made sure to wear a white tank and a pair of grey tracksuit bottoms. He knew she liked him in those.

She was already in her sleepwear - an oversized Anvil T which she’d stolen from him ages ago - and leant against her door, looking back at him, amused. “Why Billy, whatever brings you here?”

He just kept grinning at her and also leant against her doorframe. As if she didn’t know, he thought. She’d had to spend the entire journey back from Burano fending off his hands and mouth.

“Just checkin’ you’re OK, sweetheart. See if there’s anything you need.”

She laughed. “And what could I possibly need, Billy?”

He angled his body so that she couldn’t fail to get a great view of his toned torso and more importantly, the very obvious outline of his erection showing in his joggers. If there was one thing Billy had complete confidence in, it was the effect his body had on women.

“I can think of one or two things, sweetheart.”

He was ecstatic when her hand reached out and grabbed him round the back of his neck, pulling him into her room. “Uhuh… maybe you should show me what those are.”

Billy’s grin got twice as wide.

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

You gave a huge sigh as Billy pushed inside you, hearing an answering one from him and you ran your hands up into his lush hair. You couldn’t deny it, you had missed him. And his enthusiastic lovemaking.

However you were a little taken aback when he began moving slowly and sensually on you, instead of his usual frenetic pace. He was stroking your hair, placing little kisses all over your face and neck, running his hands over your body, whispering “I love you, love you so much” between his languid thrusts. He slid a hand down and massaged your clit, so well that you climaxed within a few short moments. Not long afterwards, you heard him gasp and he released into you, with a long groan.

The two of you lay in silence, side by side but still entwined. Then Billy leant across and kissed you, softly, slowly, with passion. “I can’t be without you, angel.” The puppydog eyes were out in force again as he gazed at you, “Please. Gimme another chance. I’ll be a better boyfriend, a million times better.”

You continued to look back at him, then gave a quick nod, “Okay. Yes, okay Billy. But one… just one transgression…” His hands went up in supplication, “Understood! Not one transgression will be made.”

“And you make sure to tell that thirsty bitch back in New York that her little dates with you won’t be happening anymore.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

“Already done.”

He saw her eyebrows rise.

Oh. Oh, she thinks that means I’ve been in touch with her.

“No, sweetheart…. Frankie took care of that for me while I’ve been away.”

She smirked, “Pleased to hear it.”

Billy let out a sigh of relief, he was going to have to be so careful over the next few months. He’d only just got her back! He couldn’t let a stupid, chance remark or two ruin it. He ran his hand over her hair again. “I’m so happy, y’know? M’never going to take you for granted again.” He saw her smile widen in the darkness of the room.

“But, sweetheart, you gotta promise me something too.” She looked at him, puzzled, amused, “Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah. No more runnin’ out on me and flyin’ halfway round the world.”

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

@blackbirddaredevil23 @omgrachwrites @behindmyeyes-insidemyhead @ourloveisforthelovely @swthxrry @odetostep @supernaturalcat7 @obscurilicious @strawb3rrydr3ss @bruxa0007 @aleksanderwh0r3 @theshadowkingsqueen @bat-luna-cat @carlywhomever

»»————————————-———-　⚜　———————————-————-««

#ben barnes #billy russo #billy russo x reader #billy russo fanfiction #billy russo imagine #billy russo fanfic

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addictedtostorytelling · 2 years

Note

How do you imagine Grissom and Sara’s first time?

hi, anon!

so, uh, weird content warning: if you're someone who's reading my wip fic, "something in you i believe in," then what follows after the "keep reading" here qualifies as spoilers, so if you’re not interested in having the next few chapters of that story spelled out for you in advance, you may want to forego reading this response.

otherwise, answer below.

so.

i'm one of those fans who believes that grissom and sara have some sexual contact prior to when sara first moves to vegas, between 1998 and 2000. while i don't believe they have full-on intercourse at any point prior to 2005, i do believe they've "been intimate" in other ways, to the point that the nature of their relationship itself is ambiguous.

depending on how one defines a "first time," that pre-vegas contact could count.

but assuming that we mean "the first time they actually make love in vegas," then here are my thoughts:

i think it happens sometime after the events of episode 05x13 "nesting dolls," during the back half of s5.

as i talk about in this post, i believe the "event itself" comes on the heels of them starting to spend more time socializing outside of work. they've been talking on the phone a lot. seeing each other some after hours, not in the sense of formally dating but just in the sense of being closer than they've been in a long time—since sara first moved to vegas or maybe even before then.

so there's some build up to the big moment—all of that "just [being] there" stuff that sara talks about in reboot episode 01x04 "long pig."

during this time, i imagine that there is also a "ramping up" of their physical contact—i.e., that in addition to their hallmark personal space violations, they also start to test out things like holding hands and stroking each other's arms and such. eventually, there are a few really charged moments and near-kisses (all of them, in good ol' slow burn fashion, interrupted at the last possible second, for maximum frustration).

there's a reason sara makes her "good make-out spot" quip in episode 05x18 "spark of life," you know.

at some point, i think grissom and sara work a hard case that he believes may be triggering for her, given her history. afterward, he shows up at her apartment to check on her (a la what he does in episode 05x13 "nesting dolls").

turns out that she is actually okay, though very touched that he's being so mindful of her.

they end up talking.

in close proximity.

having another charged moment.

—only this time, there are no interruptions.

so they kiss.

as stated above, i do headcanon that they've kissed before, so it's not like this kiss is their first one ever, but it is the first one in a long, long while and also the first one since grissom learned sara's secrets.

this kiss comes on the heels of five years of longing, five years of pining, five years of hoping without hope, of dreaming without promise. it's a revelation. it's a culmination. it's two people who were dying for air finally getting to breathe.

of course, one thing leads to another from the kissing, until they end up in sara's bedroom, doing what they've been waiting to do since the day they met.

as for the act itself, i imagine they're both somewhat nervous and at least a little bit in their heads—both because it's something they've been looking forward to for so long and because they are cognizant of the implications.

they're crossing a threshold, and nothing is ever going to be the same for them after this point.

particularly in grissom's case, he's self-conscious because all of his previous sexual relationships have ended badly in the past and he has some sense that his personal attitudes toward sex are "abnormal," and he so wants everything to go perfectly with sara; he doesn't want to fuck things up with her, particularly as the last few weeks have been so good between them otherwise.

even so, despite the nerves, the sex itself is incredible—easily the best that either one of them has ever had to that point.

grissom is so attentive, more so than any boyfriend sara's had before.

and the way sara looks at grissom through the dark? it's the rightest thing he's ever experienced.

though neither one of them will admit it aloud yet, the fact is that it's the first time for both of them ever actually making love. though the act itself not as seamless as what one sees in the movies, it's still special because of the emotions involved. there's such a deep connection there that more than a "first time," it feels like "coming home."

thanks for the question! please feel welcome to send another any time.

#answered #anon #asks: csi #my headcanons #let's talk shop #csiverse

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mediabrainrot · 3 years

Text

Sweet Like Coffee (TSDK Ch. 2)

Pairing: Spencer x reader

Word count: 5k

Summary: It's your first case with the BAU, and you and a certain member of the team are clicking perfectly- or so you hope.

Warnings: blood, stabbing, mentions of drugs and ODing, choking, canon typical violence, death, fighting

A/N: I FINALLY finished chapter two of this it only took me a thousand fucking years. The beginning is always hard for me cause I always want a "realistic" relationship where it doesn't go too fast, cause I'm annoying. Anyways, next chapter we actually get into the really cute cheesy shit so, if you're interested, stay tuned! feel free to ask to be added to the taglist :)

Pt. 1 Pt. 3

Your eyes drift from your case file up to Spencer, who’s deep in thought with his own stack of papers. His brow is furrowed as his eyes dart quickly down each page with lightning speed. You feel as though you can see his brain working behind his eyes. It clicks like an old, reliable grandfather clock. Well-oiled gears spin fluidly, ticking in perfect time, not to mention its intricate design wasn’t bad to look at.

He reaches long slender fingers up and pushes a strand of soft brown hair out of his line of sight and behind his ear, nudging his glasses up in one swift motion.

You’re snapped out of your trance when the sheriff walks into the otherwise quiet room, extending a manila folder towards you.

“Autopsy report just got in,” she says, and you take the file and flip it open, looking over its contents.

“Asphyxiation?” you wonder out loud, and Spencer frowns, reaching his hand across the glossy wooden table.

“Let me see.” He says, and you hand it to him.

“Toxicology reports show high levels of ketamine in her system, she must have overdosed. What horror movies have characters who O.D. on ketamine?” He wonders out loud, and you push yourself up from your chair, leaning across the table.

“None, but she did have three slashes to the chest and was found in her bed. Ketamine is an anesthetic.” You say, and without having to finish the thought, he does for you.

“Nightmare on Elm Street. He used the Ketamine so that she would be asleep when he killed her. The incisions Tina Grey got in the movie were essentially superficial though, so he had to use the drug to kill her.” he looks up and is suddenly aware of you leaning so close up to him, his breath hitching in his throat.

“Exactly. Okay, so, we have Psycho, Scream, Dracula, and now Nightmare on Elm Street. Sure, they’re all horrors, but are there any other connections between them than that? Something about the order of them, maybe the dates?” you wonder out loud, walking around the table so that you’re leaning over Spencer's shoulder to flip through all the files.

He swallows, feeling the heat from your body just behind him, your hand placed gently on his shoulder. For a second he’s finding it hard to think, but he tries to clear his head.

“N-Not that I can think of off the top of my head. I’ll keep looking. I’d wager a guess as to what he’s ramping up to though, and it doesn’t give us a lot of time to figure it out.”

You sigh. “Halloween is tomorrow. It’s gonna be a long night… I’m gonna need more coffee-”

“-I’m gonna need more coffee.”

You both stop, turning to look at one another as they leave your lips simultaneously. He’s craning his neck to look up and back at you as you realize just how close you’ve gotten to him. You laugh, cheeks flushing, taking a step back.

“I, uhm- how do you take it?” you stumble, tripping over your words.

“Sorry?” He asks, confused.

“Your coffee, how do you take it? You’re a much faster reader than me, you should keep working and I’ll go make us a couple cups. Or maybe pots.” You laugh and he flashes a timid smile.

“Uh, splash of cream, heavy on the sugar,” he says, and his voice is quiet like he’s embarrassed.

“Coffees better that way. I don’t know how anyone drinks black. It's so bitter. I get enough of that in my regular life.”

His face lights up at your words.

“Exactly! You know, an aversion to bitter things is an ancient biological survival instinct. Bitter compounds are some of the most diverse tasting genes humans have, we’ve been using it as a defense mechanism to tell which foods are poisonous and which are edible since we were primates. People who enjoy bitter things have a lower threshold for flavor and really, if you think about it, are more predisposed to being poisoned than we are. We’re more advanced.” He says. You purse your lips in a grin, raising your eyebrows.

“You’ve thought about this a lot, I take it?” You ask, and he nods, straightening his mouth into a line.

“I’ve uh, had this argument with Morgan before.” he pouts.

“Well, no need to argue, I’m with you. One genetically advanced coffee coming right up.”

You smile and turn, and Spencer glances down at the photos in front of him, remembering what he was supposed to be working on. It was like he had zoned out, forgetting what was going on around him, that there was a serial killer he needed to help catch. He couldn’t quite place why, he was usually so hyper-focused on cases, barely able to tear his mind away. But here he was, mind drifting to sweeter things- like the taste of coffee and the sound of your voice.

“Here, I hope it’s sweet enough for you. I just stole the whole pot, they had two machines and I figured we’d need it.”

You circled back around the table and began emptying your full arms. You had two cups in one hand, a carton of creamer and a cup stuffed full with sugar packets under your arm, and a ¾ full pot in your other hand.

“Oh, here, let me help,” Spencer reaches out eagerly to take the cups from you and lighten your load. His fingers brush over your knuckles, and he feels his stomach turn over, maybe he should take some ibuprofen.

“You’re pretty good at that,” He says, noting that you don’t seem to need his help, though you appreciate it.

“Used to be a barista. You get pretty good at carrying things.” You smile, taking your seat across from him.

He smiles softly at learning something about you he didn’t previously know, tucking it into the file folders in his mind- not that he could have forgotten it. He wanted to know more- where did you work? How long? Did you like it? What brought you from there to here? How did you take your coffee?

That reminded him, and he lifted the warm cup up and to his lips, sighing at the comforting smell. He took a sip- and it was perfect.

You sigh, rubbing your tired eyes and leaning back in your chair. The coffee pot is long depleted, and you’re still nowhere closer to figuring out who was doing this than you were when the night had begun. Midnight had come and gone, and you were all on edge knowing you had less than 24 hours- if that- to catch the unsub until it was too late. Your head ached, and your mind was swimming with visions of dead women and horror movies.

“I just watched these movies,” you pout, and Spencer turns from where he stands at the board to look at you.

“Yeah?” he asks, his voice hushed and slightly raspy. Neither of you has spoken in the last hour or so, and it’s coming up on three in the morning.

“I rewatch all the classics every year. You’d think it’d give me some sort of insight into the crimes,” you chuckle.

“How many times have you seen them?” He asks, and you knit your brow together in thought. “Oh, I don’t know, I've been watching since I was a kid.” you smile fondly.

“You were watching horror movies as a kid? Is that normal?” He asks as if he doesn’t know what being a kid is like. You chuckle, shaking your head.

“Not exactly, no. I wasn’t the most popular kid, though.” You say, and as you do, a little light flickers on in your head.

Spencer doesn’t notice though, he can’t imagine a reason someone wouldn’t like you. He wonders if you had a similar experience in school that he did. He hoped not. He doesn’t have time to ask though, because you’re getting out of your seat and coming up to look at the board next to him.

“Wait, okay, Garcia said all the vics went to high school together, right?” You wonder, and Spencer can sense in your tone that you’re onto something.

“Yes, but it’s a small town, even more so when they were in school, statistically most people who grew up here went to the same schools, and we didn’t find any substantial connections.”

“Right, but we didn’t know what we were looking for. When I was a kid, I was kind of awkward, and I had a hard time making friends, so I turned to fiction to keep myself company. Now, I was lucky enough to have a stable, loving home environment to lean on so it wasn’t solely horror movies and fantasy books raising me, but-”

“-What if the unsub didn’t? If he was in an unstable or abusive household and he latched onto some kind of media, he might have trouble distinguishing the movies from his reality. I’ll call Garcia,” Spencer finishes for you, reaching into his pocket and flipping his phone open. It rings a couple times more than usual.

“I’m up, I’m awake, I’m here, what can I do for you my lovelies?”

“Garcia, I need you to look into students who attended Brownsville high school overlapping with the years the victims did who may have had abusive or neglectful parents.” Spencer rushes out, catching his second wind as he feels himself inching closer to the answers.

“Got it, okay, I have 13 names of students who were admitted to hospitals for unexplained injuries or had CPS called on them. I’m gonna need something else to narrow it down.”

“Did any of their parents die recently or experience major medical trauma within the window of the murders starting?” Spencer asked, and you could hear the swift clicks of the Garcias keyboard even over the phone.

“Zilch, nothing jumps out with that criteria,” she frowns.

“Garcia, cross-reference that list with any citations for bullying,” you say, your head pounding from lack of sleep and overwork, but you ignore it, racking your brain.

“Ooh, you're good, I knew I liked you for a reason. That gives me three names- scratch that, two names, one of them moved to Texas right out of high school and I have credit card records for them as recent as last night, and the other died in 2002 of lung cancer.”

“Who's left?” Spencer urges, and as you’re both focused on the phone, Morgan and Emily enter the room from working with some of the local officers.

“That would be Oliver Barnett. As a kid, he was admitted to the hospital frequently for bruises and minor injuries, but it looks like his mother always explained them away… Oh! Okay, this is why nothing came up in connection with the victims in my initial search, the citations from his school were also struck from the record by the Principal at the time, Shawn Whitworth, the files were sealed, but me being as the genius that I am, I unsealed them. Wanna guess who his bullies were?” She asks, and Emily and Morgan are now standing right beside you, listening intently.

“Daniella Cresswell, Lila Langley, Clara Knowles, and Jenna Kennings?” Spencer recites.

“Bingo,” Garcia affirms, and Emily cuts in.

“That still doesn’t explain why he waited until now to kill them, why this Halloween, what was the trigger?”

“I think I know… two months ago Oliver was admitted to the hospital after a minor car crash. Mostly superficial injuries, the worst of which being a concussion when he bonked his noggin on the steering wheel.”

“Of course, if he experienced blunt force trauma to his anterior prefrontal cortex, it could affect his ability to distinguish reality from fiction, as well as empathy. That’s our trigger.” Spencer looks at you as he speaks as if he’s asking what you think.

“Anyone else on the list of bullies, babygirl?” Morgan asks, taking the phone from Spencer as the four of you begin moving around the room, knowing it would be time to move soon.

“No… that’s it.”

“What, so he’s done? I thought Halloween was this guy's whole thing, why would he finish off the day before?” Morgan frowns, and you can see Emily out of the corner of your eye calling over Hotch and Gideon.

“The principal.” You and Spencer both speak at the same time, and Morgan shoots his dark eyebrows up, chuckling.

“Garcia, where does Shawn Whitman live?” you’re pulling on your blazer as you speak when Emily returns with Gideon and Hotch, no doubt caught up to speed.

“Already sending it over, and before you ask, you have Oliver Barnetts address too, you're welcome- uh oh.”

“What?” Hotch frowns, his brow straightening even more than its resting state.

“Shawn won’t be at his house, he hasn’t been there for the last month…” Garcia trails off, and Morgan attempts to refocus her.

“Well, spit it out pretty girl, where is he?”

There’s a beat, and Penelope swallows.

“At the sleepaway camp he runs for troubled teens. In a cabin. In the woods.”

“That’s Friday the 13th- he’s gonna massacre them.” Spencer asserted, and then you were all out the door.

The early morning air bit at your fingertips as you stepped out of the SUV. The sun was just about to peek over the horizon, bringing the light level in the forest from pitch black to mostly dark, so you left your flashlight in the car.

The rest of the team had adorned their vests and headed off to the unsubs house to apprehend him, sending just you and Spencer to check in on the camp and warn the Principal along with anyone else, no reason for you to think they’d be in any danger until that night.

You and Spencer walked in comfortable silence up to the front office, an old but well-maintained log cabin at the head of many others scattered through the forest.

The floorboards groaned as you stepped onto the porch and towards the door, fully expecting the office to be closed at an hour like this and end up waking up some campers in their bunks.

Spencer reaches up to knock as you suppress a yawn, surveying the quiet forest surrounding you. The rap of his fingers against the wood is accompanied by a quiet creak as the door pushes open ever so slightly at his touch, and he turns back to look at you, frowning. You perk up a bit, leaning closer to him to peek inside.

“Hello? This is Doctor Spencer Reid and agent Y/N L/N with the FBI.”

Spencer calls out, and his voice seems to boom in the middle of the quiet forest. He gives you another glance over his shoulder, and you nod. You don’t say a word, but you know what he’s asking, and he understands your reply.

All that worry you had about not fitting in with the group has washed away- if working with everyone else was as natural as it was with Spencer, you’d say you were meant for this team.

He turns back to the door and pushes it open with an ominous creak. You see him scan the room and reach for his gun so you do the same, unholstering it and pointing it towards the floor. As you step inside, you see what he does- an older woman sitting at the receptionist desk, she's wearing a weathered flannel and she has a pen behind her ear. Hunched over on her desk, resting her head on the table, you’d say it looked like she was asleep if it weren’t for the gash in the side of her neck and the pool of blood on her desk.

“He’s already here,” Spencer murmurs, his voice soft and low.

“Call Hotch,” you say, taking in every inch of the room, brain working as quickly as possible to try and identify any immediate threats, and if there were none, where the unsub went.

You can hear Spencer's voice as he talks softly but urgently into his phone, but you don’t register what he’s saying. You’re blocking everything else out when you notice a cool breeze- not from the front door, but from a window at the back of the room. You make your way over to it, and the corner of the rug is upturned, scuff marks tarnish the old wooden frame. You glance past the fluttering curtains and scan your surroundings, only to be greeted with a quiet, expansive forest.

Without really thinking, you lift the window open fully, brushing the curtains to the side and stepping through to the open wood.

“I called Hotch, the reception was spotty but I think he- Y/N?”

When Spencer turned back around, the room was empty behind him. He felt his heart rate jump, eyes darting around the room frantically. It only took him a few milliseconds to see what you’d seen at the open window, and he hurried over to it, leaning out to look.

He could tell his adrenaline was spiking- palms beginning to sweat and his breath shortening. His anxiety mounted as he searched for you, calling out your name in a loud strained whisper.

“Y/N?” he called, to no reply. “Y/N!” he mutters frantically, letting his voice raise just a little.

Where had you gone? Had you been taken right out from under his nose while he was facing the other direction? Why did the thought of that make his stomach absolutely turn?

He found himself frozen, his brain racing with questions he couldn’t answer fast enough as he leaned out an open window.

Before he could bring himself back into his body, he heard a crunch around the building to his right. He jumped, moving to raise his gun when a piercing thud hit him on the top of the head, sending everything into darkness.

“Okay, okay, that’s it, everyone inside, everything's gonna be fine,” you hushed, ushering a large group of middle schoolers and a handful of counselors into the kayak shed. No windows, and one entrance that can be deadbolted, hidden away from the rest of the camp between the trees. You’d spotted it- and the rest of the campers- including Principal Whitworth- in your search for the unsub, abandoning that in favor of bringing them to shelter. The counselors quieted the campers worried muttering, though you could tell they were just as distraught.

“Alright, everyone, I need you to stay in here and be really quiet, it’s gonna be okay though, I promise, help is on the way.” You assured, stepping back outside and sliding the large barn door shut. You heard the lock click on the inside, so you turned and began walking quickly towards the front office, back toward Spencer. You hadn’t quite registered that you had been leaving him behind, letting your FBI brain take over and work. If you didn’t let yourself shut off in moments like this, you’d get caught up in the reality of it all, and that might be too much for you to handle. So you shut it out, and you go on autopilot, and you get to work.

A flash, out of the corner of your eye. The sound of movement. You dart behind the shrubbery nearby just below you. It could be anything really- a bird, a branch falling, the wind through the trees- but it isn’t, and you feel your stomach lurch forward when you see what it is.

A few yards away, Spencer is unconscious, slumped over with his hands tied around the trunk of a tree. A large, heavyset man in a ski mask paces back and forth, machete in hand- Oliver Barnett.

He’s mumbling something you can’t quite make out under his breath, his demeanor frantic.

You can tell he’s devolving, the fact that you interrupted the finale of his plan probably sent him spiraling. He hasn’t seen you yet, and you wonder what your best plan of action is. You could take advantage of your stealth, sneaking up on him and taking him down. Or maybe you take a more direct approach, he might listen to your reasoning if you-

Spencer groans, beginning to stir. This catches the unsubs attention, who makes his way towards him threateningly. Without a thought, you jump up to a standing position, training your gun on Oliver and raising your voice.

“Oliver Barnett, FBI, put your hands where I can see them.”

He jumps, and it’s uncharacteristic for the frame and look of a horror movie villain. But he snaps back fast, tightening his grip on his machete and holding it to Spencer’s neck, who wakes up, wide-eyed.

“This is all your fault, you ruined everything! You ruined my movie!” He exclaims, voice ragged and distraught.

“This isn’t a movie, Oliver, this is real life,” you inch closer to him, miniscule movements closing the distance between you and him- between you and Spencer- with every step.

“No- no, no. This isn’t how it goes. You’re messing everything up, don’t- DON’T come any closer-”

You freeze, and it feels like every muscle in your body is pulled taut. You can feel Spencer's gaze boring into you, but you can’t bring yourself to look at him.

“Okay, okay, look, I’m putting my gun down, okay? Let’s just talk, I just wanna talk.” you ease, slowly dropping down and letting your gun rest on the soft grass, rising back up with your hands raised non-threateningly.

“You’re right,” you nod, shifting where you stand. “It’s not, because this isn’t Friday the 13th, Oliver. You’re not Jason Voorhees.”

Your mind is racing, trying to figure out if you’re close enough to rush him without risking Spencer. You almost laugh, knowing that if you could ask him, he’d be able to tell you your exact distance from Oliver, to the inch.

And then you realize- you can. At least, you think you can. Oliver is still ranting and raving while you think, and you’re watching him gesticulate as he raises his voice, the blade pressing into Spencers neck ever so slightly with each gesture. You hope to god you haven’t been overestimating how well you click, and finally, you look to Spencer.

Your eyes are only locked for half a second when he nods, and it’s all the confirmation you need. You lunge forward, springing off the solid ground and pushing through the air. Your body collides with Olivers, and he grunts as you cut him off mid sentence, dropping his weapon. You both hit the floor with a hefty thud, taking your full weight and then some to knock him off balance. You move to try and flip him on his back so that you can cuff him, but he thrashes forward, his solid mask striking you in the nose and throwing you off of him. He pushes himself to his knees and reaches for his machete, screaming in anger as he brings it down towards you.

You roll out of the way just in time, twigs and leaves tangling themselves in your hair, and there's an unceremonious thunk as his weapon plunges into the soft ground.

You push yourself up on your elbows and kick his wrist as he attempts to pull it out, sending both his hand and it flying back. You both push yourselves up, at the same time, and in the back of your mind, you wonder how long it’s been since Spencer called Hotch. It had taken you and Spencer at least 45 minutes to get here yourselves, how long would it be until reinforcement arrived.

You can’t think about it any longer because Oliver is swinging at you- you duck, closing your hand into a fist and using the opening to jab him in the gut, causing him to keel over. You take the opportunity to turn and scramble for your gun, but you’re yanked back sharply, a hand in your hair. You yelp, a sharp pain piercing the back of your neck as you fall backward. He pulls you all the way down to the ground, crashing onto your back like a wave, knocking the air from your lungs as if you'd been plunged underwater. You flail, trying to regain composure and push yourself up when his large frame looms over you, pinning you down and clasping his rough hands around your neck.

You attempt to suck in a deep breath before he can squeeze his hands around your airways, but it’s not fast enough, and you feel them close, lungs empty.

Your chest is impossibly tight, and you reach up to scratch at his wrists, kicking your legs wildly. But he’s like a boulder, enormous and hulking, crushing you under his weight and between his palms.

Your vision starts to go spotty, and your lungs burn in a way you didn’t know they could when you feel your strength weaken, hands going limp.

And then there’s a bang- loud and piercing making your ears ring, blood splattering across your purple face

Oliver's grip on your neck lessens, but his weight increases as he slumps over on top of you, lifeless.

You gasp, long and deep, gulping in as much air as you could muster. Your lungs inflate too quickly like you swam up from the bottom of the pool, and your chest aches- everything aches. Using what little strength you have left, you push him off of you and roll the opposite direction, leaning on your elbow as you cough and gasp.

You can’t really think straight, but you know that Spencer is rushing down to your side. He’s got a gun in his hand that he’s setting down next to you.

You’re wheezing, trying to return your lungs to their normal state, trying to stop your ears from ringing, trying to ignore the ache setting in as your adrenaline wears off.

You can see the red and blue lights off in the distance as Spencer's voice slowly comes into focus, and you can feel his hands helping you up into a sitting position.

“Y/N? Y/N, are you okay? Y/N- Medic!” he's frenzied, turning to call out to the rest of your team whose finally arrived, rushing over to you both.

“Yeah- yeah I’m,” you croak out a couple more coughs, voice hoarse. “I’m good, I’m fine,” you assure, not really thinking about what you’re saying. The Pain keeps creeping in, and you can feel the warm blood dripping from your nose. A woman with long blonde hair tied back in a neat bun kneels down next to you, a red coat with the local hospitals' logo on it.

“Can you move? We can get you checked out at the ambulance or work here.”

“I’m fine, really, just let me-” you groan as you try and push yourself up, and you feel an arm wrap around you and under your arms, helping you up.

He smells like old books and lavender, mixed with the smell of your own blood, and you find it odd that you even noticed at a time like this, but you can’t help but notice everything about him. His sweater is so soft against your aching skin, and his arm feels much sturdier around you than you would have expected.

You sit on the edge of the ambulance while they patch you up, and Spencer never moves from your side. Hotch comes over and asks you both what happened, and you relay your stories. Prentiss and Morgan are impressed, and Gideon shakes your hand, welcoming you to the team. You watch them wheel away a body bag.

It’s not quiet like it was before, local authorities talking to the camp staff and helping them locate the campers' parents, agents shuffling around, closing out the case. The sun is finally starting to peek through the trees, a soft glow warming your tender skin. You wipe away the last of the blood from your face, turning to Spencer, who’s leaning against the ambulance, eyes closed, no doubt exhausted.

“Thanks, by the way,” you sigh, and he opens his eyes ever so slightly, lids feeling heavy. “For saving me.” you finish, and he chuckles.

“Are you kidding? You saved me first,” he argues, and you smile, looking down at your feet.

“So I don’t owe you a life debt?”

He smiles, shaking his head. He stares at you for a second, the sun is just behind you, soft and comforting as it hugs the edges of your silhouette. He can see the arc of your nose, the flecks of color in your eyes, the peaks of your cheekbones. He can see the wounds too- your purple nose, the bruising on your neck, the cut on your eyebrow, and he hates them. He hates when his team gets hurt, when he can see remnants of violence on their skin, but he’s never dwelled on it so extensively. Never gotten this heavy feeling in his chest when he sees the blue and purple hues on someone's skin.

“No,” he wants to look away from you, worried he’d been staring for too long, but he can’t. “No life debt. We’re even.”

You nod, grinning, despite the fact that it makes your nose throb, you can’t seem to stop.

“Okay, good, I don’t think you want me following you around the rest of your life anyways,” you joke, and Spencer finds that his words are caught in his throat. He squeezes his arm, finally tearing his eyes away from you and focusing on a tree in the distance.

No… no. Surely he didn’t want that at all.

The plane was quiet, most of the team has gone to sleep. You sat with your head against the window, a soft blue sweater cushioning your head. Spencer sits next to you, his arms crossed and his head craned back awkwardly against the headrest, no longer in his sweater. If either of you were awake, you would feel your legs pressed against each other.

Across the aisle, the corner of Morgan's mouth twitches up into a smile.

“How much are you betting they start dating within a year?” he whispers, and Prentiss cracks her eye open, chuckling.

“A year? I say a few months, tops,” she argues, voice hushed.

“Spencer? That quick? No way,” Morgan argues, and Prentiss rolls her eyes, picking her head up from leaning on her palm.

“Come on! Give him a little credit. He’s more emotionally inclined than he seems.” everything between them comes out in soft whispers, trying not to wake you or Spencer and too tired to fully argue.

“Okay, you wanna put your money where your mouth is?”

“Hell yes. Twenty Bucks. Three months from now.” she says confidently, and Morgan laughs a little.

“Alright missy, twenty bucks, by next September.”

She laughs, reaching her hand out to shake.

“You are so on.”

There’s a beat, and the plane is quieted again. Prentiss rests her elbow on the counter, her face on her palm. Morgan closes his eyes.

Without looking up from his paperwork, Hotch Speaks up.

“A year and a half. At least.”

@measure-in-pain @ilovespencerreidmarryme

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #dr. spencer reid #spencer reid fluff #spencer reid fic #spencer x reader #spencer reid/reader #spencer reid/you #tsdk #tsdk ch. 2 #ch. 2 #things spencer doesnt know #sweet like coffee

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novelconcepts · 3 years

Note

Hi there could you please do #25 for dani and jamie ❤

playfully biting someone

The best part of a new relationship, Jamie reflects, is in all the little details. The strange quirks of a person you might never see until you begin dating them, until the hours spent in their company twist from nine to five to all bets are off. Getting to know someone’s body is grand; getting to know them, the heart of them, the truth of their day-to-day, is better.

She maybe hadn’t realized that, until Dani--but Dani is teaching her with every passing day just how much is waiting beneath the surface. There is, it seems, an endless supply of bizarre details to file away, each wreathing Dani in more charm than the last.

Dani, she’s learned, doesn’t like to drive--she’s tried exactly once, and spent the entire thirty-minute stretch drawn tight as a bowstring--but loves rolling down her window and letting a hand dangle in the breeze. She is great with a map, almost pathological at remembering radio stations, but frequently gets distracted by conversation and forgets to point out a necessary exit ramp. She is untrustworthy when left on snack duty in gas stations, constantly inclined to pick up a coffee or a bottled orange juice over water, but always seems to find the best chocolate in any given state.

Food, in general, proves particularly interesting. Dani thrills at the opportunity to introduce her to terrible fast food (”We have this,” Jamie says pointedly, as they pull into their first McDonald’s; “Not even close,” Dani says gleefully, and proceeds to order her a Happy Meal for the sheer joy of it). She is perhaps too invested in what sort of pizza Jamie considers the right kind (”Dunno,” Jamie says in a helpless tone, unaware that there are options. “The kind with, uh, sauce?”). There is, it appears, a right and wrong answer to crust width, cheese ratio, and toppings; the first time she orders pineapple, Jamie almost can’t bring herself to take a bite, she’s laughing too hard at the intense expression on Dani’s face.

(“You are,” she proclaims, “ridiculous.”

“It’s good,” Dani insists, and there is no sign of a beast about her smile as she watches Jamie try the pinapple-and-bacon monstrosity and, grudgingly, admit defeat.)

She learns that Dani prefers movies at home to the theater, but makes an exception whenever a new action film comes out. Dani likes dancing, but doesn’t love strangers being able to see her do it; she’s self-conscious about her questionable rhythm, at least until Jamie leans close and murmurs that rhythm hasn’t been a problem yet, from where she’s standing. Dani likes old bookstores, new flea markets, ice cream parlors run by elderly couples who compliment her earrings. Dani likes America, as it turns out, with all its many oddities, and Jamie finds that affection infectious. She is rapidly coming to like America, too--at least, the America she’s offered through Dani’s eyes.

Dani is effervescent by daylight, chatting with strangers, eagerly returning stray footballs that land near her in the park to laughing children. She turns thoughtful when the rain rolls in, always at her moodiest when the sky grows pregnant with clouds that refuse to break open. She feels weird, she says, when the moon is nearly full, and she misses constellations whenever they pull up to a city, and there’s something about Midwestern manners she can’t seem to shake whether they’re in Miami or Detroit.

She’s fascinating, and she’s complicated, and the good days hold just as many facets as the bad. Jamie is growing to love them all--the way Dani shrieks with laughter when tickled, and the way she grows somber at particular Paul Simon songs for no reason Jamie can understand. She loves the way Dani slips a hand beneath the hem of her shirt and holds on for dear life on long drives, her fingers skimming the edge of Jamie’s jeans. Loves how Dani can’t shower with the door closed, can’t sleep with it open, can never figure out the window latch in any given hotel room.

And she loves how Dani behaves with her alone. Not the sex--though that’s only getting better, Dani finding more confidence each time they come together; Jamie’s started to find herself pressed up against doors with unexpected strength, pushed down onto beds with her head spinning and Dani already getting to work--so much as the intimacy. They’re different, she’s learning. Different tiers of the same cake, maybe. Can’t have one without the other, not if it’s good, not if it’s with Dani.

Sex comes easily, though it’s taken a little while for Dani to open back up again. When she does, the transition is absolute--no fear, no hesitation, her hands and lips and voice winding together to explain, If it’s just today, if I only have now, I need to be here. She doesn’t want to miss a moment, she says. Doesn’t want to let anything slip by. She wants to experience every inch of Jamie, and every inch of this country they’re exploring, and every inch of time won back from an unfair universe.

The intimacy--the way her hand always seems to find Jamie’s pocket, the way her forehead leans against Jamie’s back, the way she lets her foot press against the side of Jamie’s boot under a restaurant table--comes from the same place. That need to remember. That need to be here. If only for today, if only a little at a time, she can’t resist.

Which brings her to the part of Dani Jamie thinks she likes best:

Dani’s absolutely unexpected need for attention.

“Did you just--” She hesitates, wondering if she’s hallucinated. It’s such an odd little thing for Dani to have done, sprawled beside her on a motel bed. Such an odd thing, both of them with books open against bent knees and no conversation between them for half an hour.

And still, she’s almost certain. More so, when Dani gives a guilty grin.

“You bit me,” Jamie says, wonder in her voice. “Really?”

Dani doesn’t look particularly apologetic. “Missed you.”

“I’m right here,” Jamie says, unable to restrain the laughter in her voice. “You could, ah, initiate whenever you like.”

“Wasn’t about that.” Dani shrugs, small and clean in a post-shower sleep shirt and very little else. Jamie lays a finger between the pages of her book, closing the cover.

“Was it a food thing, because I have never seen someone put away a burger that size, but I could always order--”

Dani laughs. “No, I just--wanted to.” She shakes her head, looking as though she’s surprised herself as much as Jamie with the simple act of leaning over and sinking her teeth gently into the curve of Jamie’s shoulder. “Didn’t even think about it. Just...felt like getting your attention.”

“You have it.” She always does, even when Jamie’s reading, or starting to doze off, or thinking about tomorrow’s leg of the journey. Somewhere underneath it all, the reliable heartbeat powering her day, she’s always thinking of Dani. That should frighten her. That should worry her very much--and yet, somehow, it feels like the most natural thing in the world.

“I won’t do it again,” Dani says, “if you didn’t like it. It was weird, wasn’t it? Weird thing to do.”

“Very weird,” Jamie agrees. “You’re a bit of a weirdo, Dani Clayton. Dunno if I’ve pointed that out.”

Dani jostles her, shoulder to shoulder, and Jamie drops her book onto the nightstand. In truth, she loves that Dani is starting to do weird little things just to see what response she’ll get--loves that Dani doesn’t twist herself into knots, questioning an act, choosing instead to just go for it. It feels like the Dani she held in a hallway, hours before their lives had changed forever.

“What are you doing?” Dani is giggling already, as Jamie curls against her side, nuzzling into her neck.

“Returning the favor.”

“That--” Dani draws a sharp breath as Jamie finds a particularly sensitive spot and draws the skin between her teeth. “Um. That’s--not what I--”

She’s melting into the pillows, one hand cupped behind Jamie’s head. Her pulse is quickening, though she’s starting to laugh as Jamie rains tiny bites down the side of her throat, along the slope of one shoulder. The cotton of her t-shirt pulled between even teeth, Jamie leans back slightly, meeting her eyes.

“Wanted my attention,” she says, the words garbled around shirt. “What d’you want me to do with it?”

“This,” Dani laughs, her eyes fluttering when Jamie releases the shirt and returns her mouth to the soft column of her neck. “This is, um. Working nicely.”

“Figured,” Jamie murmurs, letting one hand toy along the curve of Dani’s thigh. “I like it, you know.”

“This?” Dani’s head is casting back, offering more room to explore; her fingers wrap around Jamie’s, guiding her toward an end to this conversation, the beginning of a different kind of discussion altogether. Jamie smiles.

“You. Doing weird shit just because. Biting my arm, or singing to me in the shower, or just...bein’ here. I like it. Like you.”

More than, she thinks. More than just like. It’s been true for weeks and weeks, maybe since the morning she’d tried to hold firm against pleading blue eyes in a greenhouse. Maybe. She’s more than liked the way Dani catches her gaze, brushes up against her, seeks out her attention for longer than she even knows what to do with.

Too early to say so. Too early to scare Dani away. She’s getting brighter, getting more hopeful every day, but she still flinches from words like Christmas, like next year, like in a while. She wouldn’t cope well with Jamie telling her the truth just yet.

Better to just do this. To learn the little details--the tiny stamp of intimacy on every step of this journey. To accept the just try it of pineapple on pizza, of dancing on moonlit beaches, of Dani’s teeth sinking into her shoulder for no reason at all. It’s better. It’s the best thing she’s ever done.

There are so many details, with Dani. So many stories to learn, so many quirks to memorize. And there is always, at the end of the day, this: just Dani, in her bed. Just Dani, drawing shallow breaths, pulling her down into a hungry kiss as she urges Jamie to explore with eager hands. Just Dani, who wants her attention merely because it’s Jamie offering it up.

Bit of a weirdo, she thinks, and thank fuck for that.

#fanfiction #ficlet #the haunting of bly manor #the haunting of bly manor spoilers #dani x jamie #damie #physical affection tag

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

for the jules stay with coops, would you be able to do something where jules kinda just messes around on the ice with a stick n puck n the team just kinda watch in adoration? 🤧

This is the final installment of Adventures in Babysitting! Thank you to everyone who stayed interested in this idea, which is the longest series I’ve ever written for SW fanfic (about 15k words total! Wow!). This is my favorite part so far, I think. Hope you enjoy!

Intro 1 2 3 4

Credit for Sweater Weather/ Jules goes to @lumosinlove!

“Can I watch again today?” Jules begged, tugging on the strap of Remus’ duffel bag as they walked to the car. “Please? Please please please please—”

“Yes, you can watch,” Remus groaned, hefting their gear into the trunk. It seemed extra heavy today. “Though keep asking like that and I’m going to say no.”

“The plane doesn’t leave until six thirty, so we’ll be able to hang out with the guys after practice, right?”

“Well, yeah, but we should be at the airport by five just in case,” Remus said. “And it’s an open practice, so the media will want to ask some questions afterward. You can probably hang out with them between interviews, though.”

Jules bit his lip. “Oh. Okay.”

“We’ll figure something out, don’t worry.” He watched Jules buckle in through the rearview mirror while Sirius turned the car on. Most of the snow had melted the previous day, leaving a clear and crisp morning that Remus could feel through the windows as they drove to the rink; he felt a little bad for everyone who wouldn’t be moving around to keep warm for the next few hours.

Moody wasn’t by the door when they arrived, nor was he in the PT room. Remus checked the clock quickly and frowned—they didn’t have a lot of time to spare before they needed to get ready to go. “Coach!” Sirius called, waving down the hallway.

Arthur looked up at them and smiled. “There you are! Got your skates, Lupin?”

Remus blinked. “Uh, yeah?”

“Not you. Little Loops, did you bring your skates?”

Jules and Remus turned to Sirius at the same time and he hid a smile behind his hand. “Got ‘em right here, Coach,” he said without looking at them, holding his bag up.

“What?” Jules whispered and turned to Remus, who shrugged. “What’s he talking about?”

“You’re number…24?” Arthur squinted at his clipboard and walked closer to them. Jules nodded silently. “Alright, I think we can figure something out. You play center, right?”

Jules squeaked out a ‘yes’; Remus could feel him trembling with excitement. “I get to play?”

Arthur raised an eyebrow and bent slightly to his level. “Your brother never stops talking about how you’re the best center Wisconsin has ever seen. I wanna know if it’s true.”

“Sirius, what did you do?” Remus murmured as Jules struggled to take a deep breath.

“I may have possibly told Coach it was his last day here. Perhaps,” Sirius whispered back.

Remus shook his head. “You are the most incredible person on the planet and I’m going to kiss the daylights out of you as soon as humanly possible.”

“Love you, too.”

“Re.” Jules yanked on his arm as he jumped up and down, ramping up with every passing second. “Re, I get to skate with the team! I get to skate! With the team!”

“Looks like it,” Remus laughed. “Come on, practice starts in twenty.”

Not only had Sirius packed Jules’ skates, but somehow he had snuck all his gear into their duffels without either of them noticing; all the guys brightened when they walked into the locker room and Kasey waved to him from his stall. “Hey, Little L—”

“I get to skate!” Jules blurted as he gripped Remus’ hand hard enough to hurt.

James shared a look with Sirius—so you were in on it, too, Remus thought as he led Jules to his stall. “That’s pretty exciting,” he said with a low whistle. “How’d you swing that?”

“Coach Weasley wants to see me play.” If Jules made it through the next three hours without fainting from happiness, Remus would be shocked.

“You must be pretty good, then.” Leo grinned as he buckled into his pads. “Think you can score a goal on me?”

Jules hesitated, then nodded. “I’ll give it a shot.”

“That’s the spirit,” Finn laughed, ruffling Jules’ hair. “You got a jersey yet?”

“Nope.”

“Hmm. What’s your number?”

“24.”

“Yo, Ringer, you got an extra?” Evander Bell dug around for a moment before tossing him a clean jersey. Finn grabbed some stick tape out of his bag and tore two pieces off; when he shook it back out, a decent ‘24’ had replaced the previous ‘21’. “There you go. You might have to tuck it in a bit.”

Jules threw his arms around Finn’s waist and squeezed him tight, mumbling ‘thank you’ over and over again. Finn rubbed his back and looked up at Remus with pleading eyes—can I keep him? he mouthed, pouting when Remus shook his head. Logan and Leo ‘aww’ed in the background.

“Okay, bud, let’s get your pads on so you can enjoy your last day here.” He put a slight emphasis on the final three words and the rest of the team perked up, trading glances between their stalls as Jules hurried to change into his gear.

Thankfully, he already knew what to do, and within ten minutes all three of them were on the ice. Several fans pointed to Jules and waved; he seemed surprised by the attention and shyly smiled back. Coach’s whistle snapped them all to attention and Remus laid a hand on Jules’ helmet to keep him close, just in case. “Cap, you know our drills for today. We start our scrimmage at 12:30 and you get twenty minutes for a lunch break.”

“Yes, Coach,” they chorused. Jules’ answer was a little delayed and Remus caught several half-hidden smiles beneath visors.

“Over here, 24,” Logan said, guiding Jules to the starting line with his stick on his back. “You wanna be on my team?”

“I want dibs!” Talker called as he skated past. “Jules, who’s your favorite? Me, or Shortie Pants over there?”

“Uhhhh…” Jules looked quickly to Remus. “I don’t have a favorite.”

“Sucks to be you guys, but he’s on my team.” Sirius held his hand out for a fist bump that Jules happily obliged. “Right, buddy?”

“Totally.”

“Hell yeah.”

The drills were far easier than usual, even for an open practice, which gave everyone a chance to show off. They went through the motions, adding little flourishes here and there that the slowly-gathering crowd ate up; even Jules started having fun with it, tapping pucks back and forth with Pots between rounds and shooting goal after goal toward Kasey and Leo. He shone with joy.

When the lunch whistle blew, Remus tapped the back of his helmet lightly. “Remember that trick I did to knock Harzy over?” he asked under his breath. Jules grinned. “Want me to show you how to do it?”

“Duh.”

“Alright, c’mere.” Remus skated over to the far end of the rink, keeping an eye out until Finn was safely out of sight. “Plant your leg like this, yeah?”

Jules frowned, but did as he was told. “I thought you went right.”

“I did. You have to fake him out with the left. He falls for it every time.”

“Really?”

“Dollars to donuts. Give it a shot.” Jules wobbled a little. “Keep your balance steady…there you go!”

“Cool!” he whispered, looking up with a bright smile. Remus leaned down so they could knock their helmets together. “Cool.”

“Okay, time for lunch. You can try it out in the scrimmage.”

Jules practiced the motions all the way back to the bench, muttering instructions under his breath as Remus kept him from knocking anyone over on accident. He scarfed down a sandwich and downed a few gulps of Gatorade, which Sirius confiscated in case he drank it too fast and made himself sick.

“We’ve got a game to win, buddy,” he said. “Take it slow.”

“Scrimmage list is up!” Coach called from the doorway, tacking a sheet of paper to the wall. Everyone immediately crowded it; Remus shouldered his way through Kasey and Logan to get a good look.

He laughed out loud when he saw it. “Jules, you better square up!” he shouted over his shoulder.

“Am I playing against you?”

“Yep. You’re up against Sirius for the face-off.”

Jules’ eyes got huge in his head. “No.”

“See for yourself, buddy.”

“Does that mean we’re on the same team for once?” Sirius murmured as he leaned against the side of Remus’ stall.

“Looks like it.” He tilted his chin up for a quick kiss and Sirius tugged the edge of his shoulder pad lightly.

“Love seeing you in these.” He tapped the wooden shelf above them and grinned before straightening. “Alright, boys, let’s go!”

It almost felt like family skate again, except for the overarching vibe of genuine competitive spirit that spread through the team. Jules and Sirius skated to the center and braced for the drop; Jules dug his blades in, and not for the first time Remus was struck by how much they looked alike.

Sirius tapped the front of his skate, but Jules didn’t flinch from his laser-focus on Dumo. “He’s got his head in the game, Cap,” Dumo said with a grin. “Ready?”

“Ready.”

The puck dropped. In a flash of movement, both lunged for it; Sirius won, but Jules was hot on his heels as he skated toward the opposite goal, his face lined with pure determination. “Twelve!” Remus called, tapping his stick against the ice.

Sirius passed it, but Jules didn’t falter from his tail, moving to shadow his every moment. Remus passed James easily, but Talker stole the puck and turned it around for a quick move toward Leo, who dropped into a lunge and blocked his shot. The pace picked up after that and Remus heard the telltale click of press cameras going off along with the whoops of fans who had come to watch.

And then Jules started tailing him, the little shit. Remus did a lazy loop around the outside, then darted in to shake him—Jules reappeared moments later, a bit out of breath but otherwise fine. Remus took the puck out from underneath Logan and raced for the goal as a beautiful line opened up for him, but he heard the familiar shush-hush of Jules’ skates and braked hard.

He should have known it wouldn’t work. Jules dodged sideways at the last second, just barely missing the puck with his stick, then spun back around and chased Remus in a sharp curve through the defense. He heard several people start laughing as he lowered his center of gravity and took a hard turn; the chill of the ice burned his cheeks, but Jules didn’t leave him alone.

“Come on, Little Loops,” he taunted, grinning over his shoulder. “Come and get it!”

Jules grumbled something under his breath and pushed off harder, skating right at Remus with single-minded intensity. He saw his left foot lift and internally shook his head.

With a couple quick taps, he was behind him again. “You can’t use my own tricks against me!”

“I can try!” Jules shouted back as they flew up the ice once more. Kasey caught his shot. “Nice one, Loops.”

“Better luck next time, eh?” Remus knocked on his helmet as he skated past, still panting. Arthur was laughing so hard he had to lean against the glass while Moody patted him on the back and winked at Remus.

“Eight more years,” Moody called with a grin. “Then we’ll have two Lupins out here.”

“Wouldn’t that be something,” Remus laughed.

They stayed on the ice for a while after the scrimmage ended, losing 2-1 to Sirius’ team. Jules shadowed anyone he came within five feet of and was harder to shake off than a piece of duct tape—Remus had never been prouder.

“Harzy! Harzy, I gotta show you something!” Jules waved to Finn, who looked over in amusement from Leo’s goal. “Skate toward me like we’re in a game.”

“Sure thing, bud.”

Jules kept his eyes on Finn’s feet as they grew closer, mouthing something under his breath. No, Remus thought. Is he going to…?

He did. In one perfect motion, he picked up his left skate and pushed hard in the other direction, zipping beneath Finn’s arm and sending him in the other direction. “No!” Finn shouted immediately as Jules burst into maniacal giggles. “Absolutely not! Remus Lupin, get your ass over here!”

“That was perfect!” Remus held his hands out for a double high-five and Jules jumped to reach his palms. “Excellent form.”

Shaved ice coated them both as Finn snowed them, still scowling. “I can’t believe you!”

“Have you tried saying ‘no’ to the puppy eyes?” Remus asked, turning Jules by the shoulders and sticking his own lower lip out.

Finn scoffed, but he could hardly hide his smile. “You’re both ridiculous.”

“Indeed.” He squeezed Jules’ arms briefly. “It’s about time to head out, J. Do you want to say goodbye to everyone while I check in with Marlene?”

The unbridled excitement on Jules’ face dimmed a bit. “Do I have to go?”

“You’ve got school in a couple days.”

“I could stay until it starts again.”

“Mom and Dad miss you a lot.”

“Remus!” Marlene flagged him down from the boards and he skated over with Jules in tow, pulling his helmet off and swiping sweaty hair out of his eyes.

“What’s up?”

Before she could speak, a skinny man with large glasses pushed to the front of the group; Remus disliked him instantly. “Mr. Lupin, can you tell us—”

“Excuse you, I think she was trying to talk,” he interrupted, giving the man a stony look. “Hey, Marley, how’re you doing?”

“I’m doing fine. This is Craig Stearns, from the Hockey Daily…magazine.” Her smile was slightly forced. Tabloid. “He has a couple questions for you.”

“Hi, Craig.”

“When were you going to tell the media about your secret child?”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “My what?”

Craig’s eyes flickered down to Jules, whose grip tightened on the hem of Remus’ jersey. “Your son.”

“You mean my little brother?”

“You’ve been seen with him an awful lot this week—”

“Because he’s my little brother.”

“—and he appears to be living in your house—”

“Because he’s my little brother.”

“—and several photos show you walking hand-in-hand—”

“Do you have siblings?” Remus cut in. “I’m going to assume you don’t. My parents visited for the holidays, during which time there was a death in the family and Jules stayed with Sirius and I for the week. He was living in our house because I’m not about to put my ten-year-old brother in a hotel, and I was holding his hand so that he didn’t run into the street. Are we done here?”

Craig paused. “Can we get a picture—”

“No.”

Jules tapped his elbow and Remus bent down. “Can we go home?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah, buddy, we can go home.” Remus gave him a gentle nudge toward the boards. “Go find Sirius, okay?”

“Okay.”

Remus watched him skate across the ice until Leo caught him and swung him into the air before turning back to Craig with the coldest glare he could muster. “You can say whatever the hell you want about me, but keep my little brother out of your fucking gossip column. He’s ten. I better not see his face on some tabloid, got it?”

“Crystal clear,” Craig said with a harsh gulp.

“Good.” Remus looked over to Marlene and smiled, giving her a fist bump. “See you tomorrow, Marley. Say hi to D for me.”

“Will do.”

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

After endless hugs and a standing offer to play from Coach, they finally made it to the car just before four pm. They practically had to crowbar Jules and Moody apart—Remus was half-expecting the grouchy old man to run out after their car waving adoption papers, and letting Kuny figure out Jules was ticklish may have been the worst mistake of Remus’ life.

It was cute, though, seeing the puppylike love on his teammates’ faces whenever Jules entered the room. Jules clearly had a good time; he passed out cold in the backseat within two minutes of leaving the parking lot, still damp from his shower.

“Is it bad that I don’t want to give him back yet?” Remus asked.

“I was just about to say that,” Sirius laughed, glancing into the rearview mirror. “We could tell your parents the flight was cancelled.”

“They miss him.”

Sirius sighed. “I’m sure they do.”

“I still don’t want to put him on a plane alone.”

“He’ll be safe.”

“One of us could fly with him…?” Remus shook his head. “Never mind, he’d think we were treating him like a kid. Ugh. I already miss him.”

“We’ve still got an hour or so to pack.” They turned into the driveway and Sirius parked, but neither of them moved to get out. “This was really, really fun. I’m glad we did it.”

“Me, too.” Remus sighed and twisted around to shake Jules’ knee. “Jules, we’re home. You can sleep on the plane, okay?”

Jules took a deep breath and blinked awake, scrunching his nose up. “I don’t wanna pack.”

“I’m not doing it for you, so you better get a wiggle on unless you want to go home in just your underwear.” Jules was out of the car in a flash and both of them dissolved into laughter. “Oh, fuck, I didn’t think that would work.”

“Come on, he’s about to break the door down.” Sirius snorted and got their bags out of the trunk, then tossed Jules his keys. “It’s the one in the middle, buddy.”

“The blue one?”

“No.”

“The yellow one?”

“Are either of those in the middle?”

“…is it the silver one?”

“There you go.”

Jules got it open after a moment of maneuvering and they tumbled inside in a heap of hockey gear, locking the door against the cold wind that was starting to blow. Packing wasn’t difficult—Remus had put Jules’ laundry into the dryer the previous night and threw it into his backpack as Jules collected his books and leftover socks.

They were in the car by five; Remus was a little nervous about getting to the airport on time, but traffic was light and they arrived with more than an hour to spare. Check-in was easy, they made it through security without any issues, and before he knew it, they were standing in front of the gate.

“You have everything, right?” he asked for the thousandth time as Jules rocked on the balls of his feet. “Books, clothes, everything you brought?”

“I’m fine, Re,” he said.

“You’re not hungry?”

“I had a sandwich before we left, remember?”

“It’s a four-hour flight.”

“I’ll be okay.” Jules looked up at him and smiled. “I’m ten, remember?”

I know, that’s why I’m worried. “Boarding for first-class passengers and unaccompanied minors,” a smooth voice called over the intercom. Remus’ heart leapt and he saw Sirius stiffen slightly.

“That’s you, bud,” he said around the lump in his throat, crouching to give him a proper hug. He buried his face in the side of Jules’ neck and gave him a tight squeeze. “Love you.”

“Love you more,” Jules mumbled. Remus let go after a moment and Jules moved to Sirius. “I’ll miss you.”

“Oh, buddy.” Sirius kissed the top of his head. “I’ll miss you, too.”

“Say hi to mom and dad for me, yeah?” Remus added as Jules walked over to a stewardess in a blue dress.

“I love you!” he called again. Just before they reached the gate, he stopped in his tracks. “Wait!”

“What?” Remus’ stomach dropped to his feet as Jules shrugged his backpack off and ran back to them, flinging himself into Sirius’ arms.

“I didn’t think of a nickname for you!”

“That’s okay,” Sirius assured him. “I don’t need one.”

“Nicknames are for people we care about, and I care about you,” Jules insisted. He narrowed his eyes in thought before breaking into a wide grin. “Siri.”

“Like the phone app?”

“Exactly. Might need some workshopping, though.”

“Go catch your plane,” Sirius laughed, setting him down after a final hug. Jules ran back to the stewardess, who gave them a quick smile while she helped him get his backpack on again. They stayed in their spot, hand-in-hand, until the plane was nothing but a speck among the clouds and their feet started to ache.

“They’ll come visit soon, right?” Remus leaned his head against Sirius’ shoulder as they headed for the exit.

“They will.”

“How much do you want to bet Jules left at least three things behind?”

“He probably left half his clothes under the bed, but there are so many other things we’re going to be doing tonight that don’t include tracking down a kid’s lost sock.”

“Oh, really?” Remus raised an eyebrow at him and kissed his knuckles. “I like the way you think.”

“We already earned our Oreos, mon loup. I think we deserve a reward for surviving three weeks of constant family time.”

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wrenhyperfixates · 3 years

Text

Kickflips and Confidence

Pairing: Loki x reader (platonic) Summary: As your best friend, Loki helps you build confidence to enter a skate competition. Warnings: none! A/N: Loki uses they/them pronouns!! Requested by @imaginationhyperload. Hope you enjoy :)

Permanent Tag List: @lucywrites02 @frostedficrecs @lunarmoon8 @twhiddlestonsstuff @lokistan @lowkeyorlokificrecs @gaitwae @whatafuckingdumbass @castiels-majestic-wings @kozkaboi @cozy-the-overlord @birdgirl90 @myraiswack @mythicalgarlicknot @what-a-flammable-heart @marvelouslovely @laurenandloki @fallinallinmendes @sophlubbwriting @mooncat163 @lokislittlesigyn @wolfish-trickster @electroma89 @jgun2001 @toe-vind-ek-jou @i-beg-your-pardon-laufeyson @theaudacitytowrite

(strikethrough means I can’t tag you; message/ask me to be added to a tag list)

Loki loved their darling mortal best friend more than words could express. They fully supported you and your many wacky ideas, relishing in the way their mischief could feed off yours and vice versa. And the pranks you played on the team together, though you were only an honorary member, were absolutely legendary. They planned on getting up to such hijinks for many years to come. That’s why they also totally freaked out when they saw you wipeout for the first time.

They’d been walking back to the Tower with Peter, Dunkin’ Donuts drinks in hand (today Loki was having a large iced coffee with butter pecan swirl, which they thought was absolutely to die for) and figuring out their agenda for their sleepover later when something suddenly caught their eye. Of course by now they knew large assortment of ramps and such was something called a skate park and had a decent grasp on what that meant. After all, it was on their usual route home. But what captured their interest was the fact they thought they saw you sailing through the air. They surely would have known if you skated, though. After all, you were best friends and told each other everyth- No! That was you.

“Spiderling, tell me I am not seeing things,” Loki requested, pointing in your direction.

“Umm, you are?” Peter nervously replied.

Loki just scoffed at their friend’s poor lying and walked into the park to get a better look at you on your skateboard. Not that they particularly knew anything about skateboarding, but they could tell you were pretty good. Pride blossomed in Loki’s chest as they watched you do a move they’d later learn is called a kickflip. They watched you gracefully fly the air, their smile still growing. Why, they are excellent! The strength, the grace, the form, the falling- Wait! Not the falling. They are falling. Oh Norns, they are several feet I’m the air and quickly plummeting to the ground and ARE VERY MORTAL!

“Hang on, bestie, I’m coming!” they called in the moments before you hit the ground, already rushing toward you.

“Loki? Peter?” you asked incredulously, noticing your friends coming toward you. “What the heck are you two doing here?”

“Sorry,” Peter sheepishly grinned. “They kinda saw you doing a trick when we passed, so here we are.”

“We are, and thank goodness for that after the spill you just took,” Loki interjected, concern etched on their features. “I will call ahead to the Tower and tell Bruce to get the med-bay ready for you. Spiderling, keep them hydrated, I shall go hail a taxi. Oh, you know what? Forget that, I will just carry you.”

“Loki, I’m fine. Really,” you laughed it off, already getting up. “Please don’t make a scene.”

You led your friends over to the benches where your bad was and drank some water. You laughed with Peter the whole way over, but Loki was still frowning in concern.

“I am glad you are fine, of course, but why did you not tell me about all this?” they inquired with sad eyes.

“Well, I wanted to, but I knew you’d overact. Things like this happen when skateboarding sometimes. I’ll be fine, I promise. In fact, I’m actually, uh, I’m actually pretty good.”

Loki’s heart swelled seeing you being confident in your skills. You usually weren’t, and they wished you had more self esteem. In their opinion, you were amazing. Perhaps even the most amazing Midgardian ever.

“Uh, Lo, are you ok?” Peter asked, noticing the trickster’s eyes brimming with tears.

“I’m so sorry, Kiki,” you apologized. “I didn’t mean to be so harsh!”

“No, no. Please, there is no need to apologize. I am just fine, my friends. These are tears of joy. Because I just got the best idea: You’re entering next month’s skate competition.”

“What? No way! I could never do one of those,” you nervously laughed.

“Of course you can. You can do anything, I assure you. And I will be right here to cheer you on. That is, if I’m allowed ehehehe.”

“Absolutely you are! Well, as long as you promise not to overreact.”

They did, of course, but you still were not convinced about entering. Loki and Peter spent the entire walk back to your apartment hyping you up and trying to convince you. Much to everyone’s surprise, they were met with success. By the time you were bidding them goodbye, you’d caved and double pinky promised—something considered a sacred vow in our friendship—to email in your form later that day.

And so came the next month of preparation. Loki had secretly enchanted your board to keep you safe, but when you started panicking about how it had started behaving differently, they came clean. You were a little miffed, but forgave them easily, especially when they took it off without argument. After all, you did understand where they were coming from; despite your insistence you’d be fine, there was always a chance of being injured. Plus you were able to compromise and let them enchant your pads and helmet, affording you some extra cushioning if you wiped out particularly bad.

Finally the day of the competition came, and you were swearing like crazy as your nerves kicked in. You immediately felt better when you saw Peter and Loki walking into the skate park decked out in gear, clearly displaying who they were rooting for.

“I think you guys went a bit overboard,” you chortled as they came up to you.

“Aw really? It think we look great,” Peter smiled.

Loki nodded. “Precisely. There is no such thing as overboard when it comes to supporting you.”

With renewed confidence, you waited for your turn, clapping as everyone else went. When it was finally your turn, the two heroes gave you some final words of encouragement. You impressed the crowds with your heelflips, ollies, kickflips, and other such tricks. You graciously received the audience’s applause when you finished.

Waiting in nervous anticipation, you waited for the rest of the contestants to finish. When they did, it was finally time for the judges to announce the winners. You took one of your friends’s hands in each of yours, all waiting with bated breath. Fourth and fifth were both announced and given ribbons. And I’m third place was... You! Your smile was uncontainable as you went to receive your bronze-colored trophy. It was nothing special, but it meant the world to you. Loki and Peter whooped and cheered as it was handed to you.

After the awards ceremony was over, and you’d shaken hands with the judges and other winners, you gathered your gear and headed out for a victory lunch with your two biggest supporters.

“Hey, guys?” you began. “I just really wanted to say thank you for encouraging me. Today was really great.”

“You’re so welcome! You were awesome out there,” Peter grinned.

“Truly,” Loki agreed. “Completely spectacular! And next month you will take the gold for certain! That is, if you feel up to competing again.”

“With you two by my side?” you smiled. “I know I can do anything.”

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bootyyy-shaker9000 · 3 years

Note

OKAY WELL KNOW THAT REQUESTS ARE OPEN

Can I please get an imagine with Casey where the reader (FtM transgender) gets really bad gender dysphoria and Casey pretty much takes them out for a boys night? 🥺👉👈

What do you need?

Characters: 2012! Casey x Trans Masc! Reader

Content + Warnings: Platonic, Cursing, Mentions of dysphoria, Slight Hurt/Comfort, Humour, 1106 words.

A/N: This was my first time writing for a Trans Masc reader so I hope it was okay!! 🖤

MASTERLIST

"Is it bad today?"

You knew he didn't like to give 'it' much attention for your sake. Dealing with it was bad enough as it is, so having to be reminded by others of its existence wasn't exactly the greatest either. Casey was aware of that, and you respected his subtlety.

Adjusting yourself on your bed where you sat beside him, you hunched slightly, making an effort to free up space in your hoodie while pulling on the pockets. "Yeah, kinda."

Casey fiddled with his fingerless gloves, taking a glance over at you while your focus was on your lap. "Do you wanna get it off your chest?"

"Dude-"

"Sorry, bad timing." He guffawed nervously, though the lack of reaction from you had him clear his throat awkwardly, bringing a hand up to itch at his jaw. "Do you want or, uh, need a distraction?"

You had pursed your lips in thought as you considered the offer, head perking in sudden interest. "Have anything in mind?"

Casey sent a grin your way, “I mayhaps, but it involves leaving the house. Are you up for that, or…”

He watched as your gaze had downcast, the lack of surety clear in your features. Pulling a knee up, he crossed his ankle over his thigh and turned towards you better. "If you're gonna make me spill the surprise, it's only this small skate spot I found in the Bronx. It's pretty out of the way, so there isn't going to be anyone around. We can just hang about there for a while, but as soon as you wanna leave we'll buck it, okay?"

Casey needed to get you out of your room. As much as he wants to help, he knows you, and he knows you'll shrink and hermit away the longer you coup yourself up in your make-shift cave. He struggles to help when it gets to that point, so he prefers to avoid it.

"Come on, let's have a guy's night. Just you and me, owning the city streets."

That final push had a smile pulling at your lips, struggling to say no to his somewhat persuasive nature. You brushed a hand through the tufts of your hair, sighing out softly in defeat. "Well, when you put it like that…"

"Sweet!" Jones had slapped his palms against his thighs, shooting up and out of his seat beside you.

It didn't take as much effort for you to get ready to go out as Casey had thought. At least ten minutes tops and you were both out of the building, hoisting yourselves onto his bike. While you perched and gripped onto the seat - with Casey's backpack and spare board occupying your back - the boy hovered in front as he peddled on, occasionally bumping you with his backside in the process.

The ride to the supposed skate spot hadn't taken as long as expected, with there being little to no traffic at this time. Though, a stop off to get soft pretzels had only been a minor delay. The area only accompanied the odd concrete ledges that were soon to be ramps and litter that had been left behind by other come-and-goers.

Casey lent a shoulder against the concrete with the bag of goods in hand, cackling as he watched you make a sloppy attempt to hit a 180 on his board.

"That's not how you do it! You're gonna hurt yourself that way, man."

Lightly skidding to a stop, you flashed a scowl his way and stepped off of the board. Hooking your thumbs onto the belt loops of your waistband, you raised an eyebrow. "Oh yeah? Then why don't you give us a look-see on how you'd do it, oh skilful one."

"With pleasure." He cockily drew out while knocking back his built-in skates, but before he positioned himself on the abandoned board, he tossed you the paper-bagged pretzels. "Hold these, amiteur."

"Am-a-teur."

"What-e-ver."

Placing his feet into an ollie position, he rolled forward, crouching in preparation to jump. He wound his body by turning his shoulder's toeside towards the back. Soon enough he was popping the back of the board off the ground, then rotating his shoulder's front side as he jumped and landed again with ease. The shit-eating grin he sent you was priceless as the rest of his body and his board followed his shoulders while rolling your way.

"Psh. That's- that's not, I can-" You tried to spit out as if the trick he pulled was no problem, but your glowing cheeks said otherwise.

"Face it," The teenager popped up the front end of the board and held it by the wheels. "Casey Jones has you beat."

"This one time maybe." You murmured under your breath as you seated yourself on a nearby curb, though Casey snickered as he overheard you.

With an exaggerated huff, he sat by your side, reflecting your position as he overly parted his knees. You quietly exchanged your food, the silence being filled with the rustling of paper bags as you moved to chow.

Mid-bite, Casey side glanced towards you and chewed down what he had before chirping up. "You know I'm always here for you, right?"

Your attention had perked up and you turned towards him in slight heartfelt surprise, then drawing your eyes back to your pretzel. "I know."

"And… not that people will mess with you, but if they did, they'd get their front teeth curbed in by yours truly."

"Because you're very experienced in that field." You smirked his way, and that had him nudging your knee roughly with his as he laughed through a food-filled mouth.

"I mean it." He managed out as he chewed, pulling out the rest of the pretzel from its packaging and clasping it in the hand closest to you. "If anyone has the cuss to try something with you, I'll pull their throat out… with my bare hands right in front of Mr Pendergast."

You paused as a wobbly smile made way to your lips with a disturbed brow raised, “Oh yeah?”

"Yeah. Yeah, like this-" On cue, the teenager clenched his hand around the entire soft pretzel. His arm shook slightly as his grip squashed the dough while it oozed out of the gaps between his fingers. Casey made a noise of satisfaction as did the pretzel while he demolished it.

You snorted out and instantly made way to cover your face with the back of your hand, afraid you'd cough up any pretzel resonance post laugh. "You're so fucking weird, man."

"Yeah, I know." Glad, Casey broke off a piece of the pretzel and tossed it into his mouth, grinning as he gazed off elsewhere.

You were glad he of all people wasn't going anywhere.

Tag List: @wazzuppy @dianounais @kokokatsworld @tmnt-queen @someonebored0100 @terrified-to-ask-for-water @turtle-babe83 @milky-toast (if you'd like to be added, feel free to ask <3)

#tmnt #teenage mutant ninja turtles #tmnt 2012 #teenage mutant ninja turtles 2012 #tmnt casey jones #tmnt 2012 casey jones #tmnt casey jones x reader #tmnt 2012 casey jones x reader #tmnt x reader #tmnt imagines

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beskarberry · 3 years

Text

Krayt’s Teeth

Bargaining with Beskar, Chapter 3 (The Mandalorian x f!reader)

The sound of crashing and shouting was hot on your tail, the other hunters had followed you and were gaining fast. You saw a light rapidly approaching ahead of you, and the two of you burst out into the brilliant daylight to the worst possible place: a dead fucking end.

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 6.7k

Content warnings: Canon typical violence, killing in self defense, headcanon angst, FLUFF, sensory deprivation, body worship, oral sex (f receiving).

A/N: These are my headcanons regarding Mandalorian culture in terms of sex, I didn’t find much lore on it so whether it’s accurate or not idk but I like them and that’s all that matters! Enjoy~

<-Previous Next->

You could have slept forever, even on that horrible little cot you were so comfortable that you could have been out for days, but the only one on it was you. You did’t know when Mando got up from the tiny space you both shared through the night, or how he managed to get out from your tangled bodies without waking you up. You opened your eyes to tiny green baby hands tugging at your fingers.

“Hey booger, is it time for breakfast? Where’s your papa?” You started to sit up, but the horrible sticky mess underneath you made you reluctant to move, a mix of passion and pain from the day before. “Yikes. I’m gonna run all his water out if I have to keep using the fresher. Come on, let’s get scrubbed up.” The baby gibbered excitedly at you, though you weren’t sure how much of what you said he actually understood. You scooped him into your arms without looking back at the sad little cot and all its stains. “You’re water proof, right?”

The ship’s engines were rumbling away, so you guessed tin man was up in the cockpit flying you towards your next bounty. Or Nevarro. You would have to find Mr. Mystery later, the grossness that was you had to be dealt with. Between you and the child your shower took forever, the two of you getting water and soap bubbles from top to bottom. You didn’t care. You had been on Tatooine for months without having a real shower, being consigned to the sonic freshers that vibrated the sand off of the moisture farmer’s bodies; and this was the second real shower you’d gotten to have in twice as many days. You spent a good deal of time trying to get your chatty friend to hold still long enough to be dried off, the little fart squealing with joy every time you went for him with the towel.

An ordeal later you were both fresh and presentable, but your host was still nowhere to be seen, though the ugly sheets had thankfully disappeared from view. The ship was quiet now, without the engine running you knew you had to be back on the ground, and you could hear a distinct hum of activity coming through the walls. Space port? He flew us into town? The thought was replaced immediately with a rich, savory smell coming through the air vents: FOOD! Your gut grumbled loud enough to resonate through the cabin and earn you a confused look from the baby. When was the last time you really ate? You’d been living on ration packs for the last couple of days. That was going to change right now.

“Ya hungry buddy? Me too! Maybe that’s where your dad is, hmm?” Grabbing your old backpack and hooking the baby under your arm you started punching buttons on the wall to get the door open, sending walls sliding and cabinets opening before you got one of the access ramps open. Bright double sunlight nearly blinded you, and on reflex you covered the baby’s giant googly eyes. It took a moment for your own to adjust to the radiant light of the Tatooine morning, and the smell of cooking food hit you like a ton of bricks, making your mouth water. As your eyes adjusted you were able to take in your surroundings: though it was bright outside you were parked low inside a maintenance bay, the walls of which soared high above you; littered with engine parts and humming with droid activity. Sound was the last input your hungry brain could process, but when it did you didn’t like what you heard. The sounds of an argument echoed around the hangar, high and shrill.

“I already told you, you can’t park here! You’re bad for business!”

“I just need to park here long enough to get supplies.”

“Well you’re gonna have to pay up, Mando! I’m not running a charity here! You got credits for supplies you got credits for parking! Up front this time!”

Oh no.

Of all the mechanics and docking hangars in Mos Eisley he had to pick this one. The fireball of a woman barely came up to your partner’s chest, but she made up for it with unbridled fury; and the giant cooked animal leg she was swinging around like a club between bites made her look even more formidable. She noticed you coming down the ramp and stopped grilling your comrade long enough to glare daggers through your skull.

“Oh NO! No nope nuh uh! You can turn right back around and get back on that ship, missy! I knew it! I knew you were bad for business, Mando! What’re you doing running around with her? I hope she’s your bounty because she’s your problem!”

“Peli.” Your words were cold as ice, but the squirming baby in your arms took all the malice out of your stance. He wiggled until you set him down, and he ran towards the mechanic with open arms.

“Baby! You can stay but your dad’s gotta take the mean lady somewhere else! She cheats at sabacc!”

“You lost fair and square, Peli! Try playing a better hand next time!”

“Ladies please!” Mando cut through your bickering, holding his arms up between the two of you like he was trying to corner a pair of wild blurgs. “If I let the child stay with you for the day, will you let me park the Razor Crest here? Just for a couple hours?”

Peli bounced the child on her hip, offering him a bite of her breakfast. The baby squealed happily while he sank his little teeth into the mighty snack, though the size of it comically dwarfed his itty bitty hands. “I’ll tell you what, you let me keep him and then maybe I’ll let you park here in a week.” Mando cocked his helmet at her with disdain and she huffed loudly, “Well if you put it that way, I guess you can park here, but you gotta put five hundred credits down, and not a cent less!”

Mando reeled, stabbing his hands to his hips with indignation. “Five hund- absolutely not! What am I going to buy our-” You interrupted his tirade with a hand on his shoulder, waving a slew of credits in front of his eyes. Peli snatched them out of your hand, fanning them out like cards to count them.

“Who’d you cheat these outta?”

“Don’t worry about it.” You leaned casually against your metal man, eyeing Peli with a smug look on your face. “Let’s go, Mando. Bye baby green bean, have fun with Auntie Cheats-at-Sabacc!” You spun him around by the hand and dragged him towards the exit, ignoring the insults being slung at your back. “We are getting breakfast and that’s final!”

The Mandalorian allowed you to pull him along a few feet before grinding his heels into the sand, shaking his head. “You have to stay here.”

Now it was your turn for sassy head tilts. “I just paid for your parking, buckethead, that makes me in charge and I’m hungry! I’ll buy you breakfast too if you want.” He didn’t budge, fixing you with that intense stare of his and grabbing you by the shoulders.

“You are still being hunted. Mos Eisley isn’t safe for you.”

Ah.

You knew you could look after yourself, and he himself had compared you to a ferocious rancor just yesterday. You groaned loudly, “Shit balls of hell. But dad, I’m huuunngry!” The man bristled at your paternal harassment, sighing heavily and letting his helmeted head fall to the side like the world was ending. He glanced around the hangar exit, his shiny beskar snapping to each object of interest until he located a protocol droid corpse that was missing everything from the waist down. He strode over to it and held it down with one boot, yanking it by the head until it popped off. He began prying the droid’s vocorder apart at the mouth, pulling it wide until the droids face plate broke off with a snap! Tossing the rest of the logic processing unit to the ground, he held the face plate up to the light, inspecting the clarity of its photo receptor casings. He bent back down to the junk pile and fished out a stray wire to thread through the ruined audio processors, then tossed the finished creation to you.

“Put that on.”

You turned the makeshift mask over in your hands to check for sharp edges before you pressed it to your face. The bug eyes on the front were dirty, but you could see well enough. Before you could clean them more thoroughly you felt the weight of fabric on your head, his cloak now worn as your own. The thought of how you must look made you giggle. “You make me take my clothes off, now you want me to put clothes on. It never ends with you, Mando. Next you’ll be forging me beskar. Now can we eat something, please?” Without a word the armored man turned on his heel and walked out the hangar exit. I’ll take that as a yes.

Mos Eisley buzzed with life, people and animals and things you couldn’t explain made their way up and down the bustling streets. The smell of food led you to a vendor selling something that could have been a root vegetable, covered in herbs and spices and grilled to perfection. You couldn't wait, all thoughts of self-preservation went out the window as you hauled ass to the stand, waving two fingers in the air. When you had both of your prizes in hand you stuffed the savory veggie under your mask, sighing contentedly at the taste of real honest-to-Maker food. “Hey tin man, I hope you like... whatever this-” You turned to offer your partner something to eat, but he had disappeared from the crowd. “Alright... more for me.”

Taking a newspaper from the vendor you wrapped the extra snack up tight and threw it in your pack for later, continuing to chow down on your own. You would find Mando eventually, and you had credits to spend. You had held onto your hush-money for months to avoid suspicion, but now it was burning a hole in your pocket. Wandering the streets of Mos Eisley from merchant to merchant you began accumulating a small hoard of supplies, ranging from bacta to hand tools, and food. Whatever you could get your hands on that would survive hyperspace when you inevitably left this fucking dirtball for good; though you still weren’t convinced that you wouldn’t be making that flight in carbonite. You picked out new clothes and underwear, a much-needed bedroll, and some soft bantha-wool blankets. Something further down the marketplace caught your eye, and you made your way to the fancier items that glittered in the double daylight. You didn’t wear jewelry yourself, a poor choice of attire for a hunter, but the way the trinkets caught the light still made you wistful. Your hidden eyes danced over the glittering treasures; jewels and geodes that had been found deep in the sands and polished to a radiant shine.

You spotted something opalescent at the end of one table and found a pair of krayt teeth, each about the size of your palm. They had been sanded to a smooth, flat finish and carved with intricate desert patterns. The backs of them had tiny fittings that could be sewn on as buttons, or pulled off to reveal magnets. Something about their shape seemed familiar, though you couldn’t imagine why in that moment. You purchased the unique pieces anyway, something to remind you that even the harshest of places could hold hidden beauty. After a while you had so much junk piled in your arms that you could barely see over it, and tin man was nowhere to be found. You spotted a courier droid and paid for it to deliver your treasures back to Hanger 3-5, though you kept the pricey teeth in your pockets. With your arms free you started looking for your missing comrade.

The streets were busy with people, you would have to get somewhere out of the way in order to scan the crowds. Your eyes went from shimmer to shimmer, looking for his reflective chrome dome. “Big jerk,” you mused to yourself “‘Mos Eisley’s not saaafe...’ If he’s so worried then where the hell is he? Bah!” The scratched-up photoreceptor casings of your mask made it a challenge to see through the crowd, and you took a moment to adjust the iris apertures so you wouldn’t have to keep squinting into the double sunshine when you felt a hand on your back. Finally. “Mando, where have you-”

“Mando? Whos’sis man-do? Nah sssweetheart, I think you got me confused wi’ sssomeone elssse.” The slithering voice in your ear made your blood run cold. Not Mando! You rocketed your elbow backwards, connecting with the gut of the stranger on your back with an -oof! The hand let go long enough for you to make a run for it, and you tore off down the streets of the busy spaceport, smashing into bystanders in your wake. You cast a quick look behind you to see a large reptilian body flying after you, brownish scales catching the reflection of the noonday suns. Though you had your blaster, the risk of hitting a civilian was too great, so running would have to do. You were thankful for the courier droid that had freed your hands just minutes before as you barreled down the busy streets.

Market stalls flew past you, your boots kicking up sand and dust. The mask on your face, as dirty as it was, kept the debris from your eyes as you raced through the sunburnt city. You had to lose this fucker and fast. You turned down an alley, left, right, another right, leaping over supply crates and low fences like a lothcat. You turned to see if you had lost your chaser, breath heaving and heart pounding. Behind you was clear, but you took your eyes off your path for just a second too long, and were taken by surprise when a heavy weight fell on you from above.

The Trandoshan had gone over the low sandstone roofs, chasing you easily through the alleyways of Mos Eisley while you were none the wiser. He pinned you under him quickly, ripping your blaster off your hip and pointing your own barrel in your face. “Tha’ss enough, princesss! Nice n’ quietlike now. You gonna make me a pretty penny you are.” The lizard’s words dripped with metaphorical venom, though you were sure by the look of those fangs that real venom was probably right behind. “Ahm gonna cart yer arse right back to th’ Guild’n I’ll become th’ most famous hunter in th’ galax -urk!” With a sickening gag the hunter above you grew a shiny new fang in the back of his throat before falling down dead on top of you, a vibroblade protruding from back of his skull.

“Took you long enough!” You hollered at your chrome companion, who was stepping forward to kick the carcass off of you. “Where the fuck have you been? Getting your rifle polished?” He pulled you to your feet, handing you your blaster while readjusting the mask on your face. You swatted at his fussing hands, but when you looked at him you were shocked to see not one but three blinking bounty fobs dangling from his belt. On the ground by the dead lizard was a fourth, flashing rapidly in the sand.

“I told you you weren’t safe! We need to leave right now.” You were barely able to grab the remaining bounty fob while you were being tugged away by your allied hunter. He had a death grip on your hand, pulling you along behind him towards what you hoped was the docking hangar. You would have to cross the main street to get there, and as the pair of you plowed across the dusty, busy road there came shouts from either side. More hunters, fucking Guild! You didn’t have a single second to assess them before you were lead through an alley on the other side of the street. These were darker than the ones you had run through on the west side of town, and shady bodies moved quickly out of the way of your living locomotive.

At the end of a narrow alley you both burst through a door leading into an abandoned building. The darkness was almost worse than the blinding sunlight, you would need time for your eyes to adjust but the Mandalorian had enough sensory detection equipment that he ghosted through the ruinous building with ease; never once letting go of your hand as you tripped and stumbled through the dark. The sound of crashing and shouting was hot on your tail, the other hunters had followed you and were gaining fast. You saw a light rapidly approaching ahead, and the two of you burst out into the brilliant daylight to the worst possible place: a dead fucking end.

“There! Get down!” Mando pointed at a pile of rubble, probably big enough to hide behind, but that’s not how you handled business.

“Fuck you! I’m not going down without a fight!” You pulled your blaster out and aimed at the incoming assailants. He growled at you and stepped closer, putting his body in between you and the door. The reptilian hunters burst from the darkness of the warehouse, firing rapid shots of blaster charges that bounced off of Mando’s beskar. You fired over his protective arm, taking out the first one and tripping up the second, who fell over his cohorts limp body. Mando took shot after shot to the chest, reeling with each impact. His other arm cocked back and shot out, sending a wall of fire into the last of the Guild’s hired guns.

Both of you were panting, shaking and sweating from flying through Mos Eisley, but the sound of blaster fire would draw attention and you knew there was no time to waste. You stepped over the incinerated corpse, making sure the fob it carried was melted, the second body still squirmed in the dirt, and you weren’t going to let it get a second chance, firing your blaster through it’s scaly skull. You picked the remaining two fobs and stuffed them in your pockets, making a run for it back through the building with Mando right behind, the blaze of his flamethrower lighting your way.

You took a different door out of the building and were relieved to see the words ‘HANGAR 3-5′ painted in bright blue Basic straight ahead. You skittered through the entrance, rounding the corner and dropping down behind the edges of the hangar doorway. Mando did the same on the other side, both of you pointing your blasters back towards Mos Eisley’s dark heart. Bootsteps behind you made you snap around, and you nearly shot your mechanically inclined host.

“You kids have fun out there?” Peli stood over where you were hunched, and you lowered your blaster to the ground. At her feet your little buddy was holding onto her pant leg, making big puppy dog eyes at you. You looked over to Mando to make sure there weren’t any more coming, but he still held his blaster out ahead. After a few tense seconds he lowered it down until it was back in its’ holster, then pulled himself to his feet.

“We can’t stay any longer, we’re putting you in danger. Time to go, kiddo.” His charred beskar still shimmered when he bent down to pick up his adopted son, who chirped with delight. “Thank you for watching him.”

“He can stay any time! Oh and thanks for all the snacks you made that droid bring me!” Peli called after the three of you as your party quickly boarded the Razor, making you turn around and stick your tongue out at her. She happily flipped you off and started closing the ground entrance to the bay, letting you board the ship uninterrupted. Fortunately, the courier droid’s delivery had made it to the ship, though you couldn't help but notice a few of your most carefully picked snacks had been taken as collateral. Fucking Peli. As much as she infuriated you, there wasn’t another person on all of Tatooine that you would rather play sabacc with.

The old rust bucket rumbled to life, taking off into the midafternoon sky and pointed towards the stars. Finally! Bye motherfucker. The hazy atmosphere of the outer rim planet fell away below you until the light of the bright yellow world illuminated the Crest’s stern. The pre-Imperial scrapheap started howling with noise, and you were almost thrown to the deck when it blasted into the safety of hyper space.

Your heart was still racing and you struggled to catch your breath. Once you had yourself in order you started busying yourself with putting the supplies away, filling the food larder to capacity. The child was contentedly telling you about his day with his auntie in his cute baby gibberish, and you picked him up off the ground to give him a much needed hug, pushing your stolen identity onto the top of your head to give him kisses. You almost wanted to ignore the sound of heavy armored boots hitting the floor panel under the ladder, their wearer opting to jump down from the cockpit rather than climb. You could feel the fury coming off of him as he stalked over to where you were sorting your treasures.

“You could have been hurt! I knew it was a bad idea to let you go wandering around, even with your face covered. What if they’d caught you? I picked three of them off before you even saw one!”

“I had it under control, Mando! I’m not some princess that needs you coming to her rescue at every sign of a struggle. And you don’t get to let me do anything, you don’t own me!” The man under your scrutiny paced the cabin on stiff legs with his hands on his hips, helmet snapping with rage.

“I know you can handle yourself, but I need to protect you.” He said with a huff, “And that lizard was... he had you pinned down, had his filthy, scaly claws on you... Nobody should touch you like that! What if.. what if he... I- I- didn’t like that he was...” Listening to the sound of the gears jamming in his head made you realize the ridiculous thing he was trying to say.

“Are you.. Mando are you jealous?”

“No! I- I’m.. Cyar’ika I... ”

Oh no, you don’t get to be cute right now. “I don’t know what that means, Mando! What is that, some kind of sexy little pet name you use on all the girls you take underneath of you?”

“NO! I didn’t- I would nev- I’ve never had... There’s never been- no!” Oh how you wished you could see his face, watching him flail trying to defend himself from your accusation, he was probably white as a sheet under all that armor.

“Never what, Mandalorian?”

“I’ve never had anyone in this ship before!” The Mandalorian’s confession lost steam halfway through as embarrassment and fear crept into his throat, threatening to choke him with his own secrets.

“Wait.. wait wait. Never? You’ve never had anyone in this ship or...” You started approaching him, analyzing his visor for hints of meaning. “Or you’ve never had anyone at all?” The Mandalorian stopped his pacing, but his shoulders looked like they were carrying the weight of the galaxy. His silence told you everything, and the last piece of his puzzle fell into place. “Mando...was I your first?”

“Y-yes.” His visor tilted up to you, hands fidgeting at his sides. His voice was faint and sheepish, a stark contrast to the thunderstorm you were arguing with a moment ago. Your eyes were full of questions, all racing through your mind so quickly none of them made it to your mouth. The metal man answered them all for you in one singular motion, raising his fist to knock a couple times against his beskar helmet. His creed.

“So, what, you guys aren’t allowed to have sex?”

He sighed his heavy, trademarked sigh and plopped down on the nearest supply crate with a defeated thud, cradling his head in his hands. “No it’s not that. Not... not exactly. In Mando’a the word we use is me'dinuir. It means ‘to give’, specifically to give yourself to another. And... when you give yourself away to someone-“ He turned the black gloss of his single eye up to you, “-you belong to them. That is The Way.”

The weight of his words made your blood cold. He was jealous, but not just because that other hunter had put his scaly hands on you. Everything about his attitude around you suddenly made sense, the way he had looked at you when you were presenting yourself to him that first day, why he never threw you in carbonite when he probably should have, and how he had stayed with you through the night after you nearly died hunting his bounty. His mysterious way of life decreed that giving his body to you meant that he had also given you his soul, and that made you just as important to protect as his foundling.

Mando reached out to pat the fuzzy green head of the baby you were still holding, who gibbered sleepily up at his armor plated papa. “I’m sorry to put that on you, and I’m sorry for how I acted. You’re not my bounty anymore, and I shouldn’t try to control you. I understand if you don’t want to continue with me to the next bounty. You can take whatever you want from the armory when we land next. I’m.. I’m so sorry.” The monolithic man looked so tiny now, sitting on the edge of the crate with his shoulders hunched. He reached his arms out to take his infant son from you, hugging him to his blast-burnt chest and smoothing his massive ears. "I didn’t get to thank you for washing him earlier, he smells really good.”

You desperately needed to know more, though the sight of him fawning over his sleepy son made your heart swell. “I kinda got the feeling that you were rusty when we met, but that was actually your first time? And what does that mean ‘you belong to them’? How can you belong to me? I don’t even know your name.”

"It means that I’m now sworn to protect the one that carries my soul. I’m not asking you to do the same, you’re not Mandalorian.”

His words made you feel sick, ashamed that you had taken something so sacred from him without a second thought, but how could you have known? He could have stopped at any time, you were the one in cuffs that day, not him. No, out of trillions and trillions of sentient beings in the galaxy he chose to give himself to you, knowing full well what his heritage decreed. Why you? Arms crossed, you dug deeper. “You’ve never seen another naked body than your own?”

He shook his head. “Just... holo-vids...”

You were going to have to ask him about those later. “Nothing? You’ve at least kissed someone before though, right?”

“Kissed?”

Maker fucking help you. “Yeah you know, kissing? The thing you do with your... oh, right." You reached up and tapped him twice on the beskar. “You need your face to do it.”

He cocked his helmet at you. “Can you show me?”

The innocence of his question made you melt. Fuck you, tin can, you’re not supposed to be cute when you’re in trouble. You reached your hand out, demanding he give you his, and shyly he obeyed. You pulled his hand to your lips, unsure of how much he could actually feel through his thick leather gloves. You pressed his hand to your lips and watched his whole body snap straight. “Kiss, like that.”

He was staring at his hand like he’d never seen it before, and after a moment he pulled your locked fingers to his head, tapping his forehead with the back of your hand. “Kov’nynir, But we do it with our helmets.” At this rate you’ll be speaking Mando’a in no time. He still held your hand gently, running his thumb over your fingers. “I think I like your way better. Could... Could you do that again?”

So polite, maybe having him stuck with you wouldn’t be so bad. You pulled his hand back to you, giving him another soft kiss on the side of his thumb, and you heard the sound of his breath catching in his modulator. Your lips pressed to each of his knuckles, and then you turned his wrist to kiss his palm. “How’s that?”

“That’s amazing.”

“You like that? Watch this.” Addressing the bantha in the room would have to wait. You tugged his glove off, revealing the warm bronze skin underneath and kissed him again. The hitched breaths coming out of his modulator were honey to your ears, and you turned his wrist over to kiss his bare palm again, hunting for more sweet sounds. His body was so stiff, so tightly wound you thought he might snap. “Are you ok? Do I need to stop?”

“I- I- want to... Can... Can I try?” You nodded, your heart jumping to your throat at the thought of him removing his helmet in front of you, but instead he gently reached up to the busted droid face you still wore on your head. With a twist of a knob the armatures inside of the eye casings coiled shut, and when he slid the mask down into place you were thrown into total darkness. “Can you see?” You shook your head. “Promise?”

You sighed, long and frustrated. “I promise, dark as a sarlacc’s backside.” You were met with only silence. Then, after what felt like an eternity you heard the sliding sound of metal as the child’s pram shield slid closed, then the shuffle of armor being removed, and lastly the dull thunk of something heavy being set down on the crates. His hand found yours again, and he pressed his lips against your skin. They were hotter than you were expecting, and soft, almost plush. You understood right away why he was so rigid when you were doing the same, it was amazing. Gentle kisses made their way over the back of your hand and made heat flood through your veins. He moved slowly over each joint, following the same pattern you had shown him, then turned your hand over and kissed at your fingertips. Something fuzzy brushed along with his lips, and you imagined that he might have a mustache. The shivers that crept their way up from your captured hand knocked all the strangeness of your conversation out of your mind, but when he reached your wrist he stopped.

“Where else do you kiss at?” You nearly fainted at the sound of his unfiltered voice, a rich baritone that dripped with dark intentions and stole all the words from your mouth. You could only point with your other hand at the forearm attached to the hand he held. Again you felt his lips on your wrist, then slowly, inch by agonizing inch he made his way up your arm, each kiss slower than the last until your toes were curling in their boots. When he reached the edge of the tunic’s sleeve that hung at your elbow he paused again. “Where else?”

“Everywhere.” Your tormentor hummed at your consenting words and let go of your hand to run his palms down your clothed thighs. When he reached your knees he pulled on their joints, bidding you to bring your legs up over his lap. When you were seated on him he resumed his trek up your arm, kissing at the crease of your elbow and then upwards over your tunic until he reached your shoulder. When he got to your neck you almost buckled over, but his hands were at your back in an instant, wrapping heavily around your waist. Your own hands made their way to the nape of his neck, and your fingers found the edge of his hairline that you had felt before. To your delight you felt that the tousled curls went all the way up, and you tangled your fingers in them, exploring their softness while he explored you.

His journey led him up your neck to the base of your jaw where he nipped gently at the sensitive skin like you had done to him last night, sending a fresh wave of goosebumps from your head to your toes. When his nose bumped the edge of your mask you were suddenly aware of how silly you might look with your big bug eyes. “Can I take this thing off?” you asked in a whisper. “I won’t look.”

“I have a better Idea. Hold on tight.” You dug your hands into his shoulders and felt his arms wrap under your legs as he stood up, lifting you with such ease that you wondered if he felt your weight at all. His boots echoed through the cabin until he stopped at the other end. You hung on for dear life while he climbed the ladder with you still wrapped around his front. When you both reached the top you let yourself unwind from him and scooted on your butt over the floor, listening to the sound of him pulling himself all the way up. You remained seated as your host fussed around the flight deck, the noise of buttons pressing and switches being thrown the only input to your deprived senses.

You were only unattended for a moment, then his hands found your waist, fishing for the edge of your shirt. The tunic was pulled up and over your head, taking your mask with it, and you squeezed your eyes shut to protect his modesty; unsure of what his unconventional oath to you included in the fine print. Your diligence was rewarded with a kiss on your forehead, then down to kiss both of your closed eyes, and then lastly to your lips. The searing heat of his mouth on yours threatened to throw your eyes open, but when they fluttered all you saw was darkness. The transperisteel’s blast shielding had been closed, and the only light in the cockpit came from a handful of illuminated buttons on the dash.

He was lying over top of you on the metal floor, one arm wrapped under your neck for support. The cold decking under you was uncomfortable, but you couldn’t be bothered to care, letting yourself be consumed by his kisses and becoming drunk on the scent of leather and adrenaline. The soft fuzz of his facial hair tickled slightly as he pressed into your lips, and you couldn’t help but smile. Your hands went to his face, running your thumbs over his cheeks and feeling what you weren’t allowed to see. His face was scruffy but not unkempt, and the bristles went all the way from his jaw up to the bottom of the defined nose that bumped against your own. You felt the creases on the corners of his eyes, wishing you could see his smile lines and all the stories they would tell.

You kissed him back, letting your tongue glide over his plush lips and making him inhale sharply. You licked into him again, and this time you were met with his tongue as well, just the faintest touch of its tip. He hummed in your mouth, and the sound of him so close made your belly pool with heat and your kisses bolder, sending your tongue deeper into his mouth until he was almost vibrating with the sensation of you exploring something as forbidden as his human body. He mirrored you as best he could, rolling the smooth muscle over your lips and the edges of your teeth until you were both lost in each other’s taste. He pushed his forehead against yours, pulling his mouth away with frantic breaths that spread fire over your skin. “Everywhere?”

You pushed your lips against his again, giving him an ambitions ‘Mmhmm’ as an answer. His growl made the hairs on the back of your neck stand on end, and you realized where his goal was. He kissed and nipped his way down your throat, letting his tongue glide over your skin. He made his way to your breast, taking its’ tender tip between his teeth and making you gasp. He sucked at it gently, rolling his tongue around it while it grew harder for his efforts. The hand not under you groped at your free breast so it wouldn’t be ignored.

"Beep!”

An urgent chime echoed in the tiny space, the hyperdrive indicator was flashing its countdown warning: 10 minutes remain.

The Mandalorian’s growl on your breast made your blood turn to ice and your core flush with heat at the same time. He wanted to devour you, taste every single inch of your exposed skin, but time was not on your side; and he became a man on a mission to prove himself worthy of you. Bristles dragged over your skin as he slid down your belly until he hit the edge of your pants. They were yanked off so fast you briefly worried about the krayt teeth that were still in their pockets, but you didn’t have long to think before Mando was poised over the apex of your thighs, kissing at each leg to make his intentions known. Those must be some good holo-vids you’re watching, tinman. You let him push your legs apart with his chin, receiving a soft kiss on each one once they were far enough apart for him to stuff his face in between.

Your back arched, hard, followed by the most ragged moan you‘d ever heard escape your throat. The grip on your thighs kept you in place as he lapped at your clit, sucking and teasing in an experimental way. His inexperience didn’t seem to matter, his hunger for you fueling his efforts and making you squirm in delight. Your hands sought desperately for something to grab onto to keep yourself grounded, finding his lovely curls to bury your fingers in deep. It was all you could do to hold on for dear life, tangling in his hair and struggling to breathe as he worked you into a frenzy.

The noises coming from below your waist were heavenly, wet and greedy in between his hums of contentment. It took you a while to realize they weren’t hums at all, but alien words of worship being prayed at your sinful altar; but the blood pounding in your ears and the gasps from your throat were too loud for you to hear his devotion.

“Beep beep!” Five minutes remain. Fuck.

The Mandalorian’s efforts doubled, running his tongue almost too quickly in his attempt to eat you alive. You let your hips grind into his mouth, begging him to bring you your release, and it wasn’t long before he succeeded. Stars flashed behind your eyes as you came into his hot open mouth, but he refused to leave until he had drank his fill of you. Eventually he pulled his face away from your spent heat with agonizing slowness, as if he would rather drown than address the impending drop from hyperspace. He kissed at your shaky thighs, your soft belly, and each breast before pressing his lips into your panting mouth, pushing the taste of you onto your own tongue. His breath was ragged, and you could feel the sweat of his brow where it was pushed against your face.

He lifted away from you, and the weight of the handmade mask was draped over your face, making you groan with the displeasure of your passion being cut short. However, once it was in place, it was almost immediately pushed under by strong fingers to lift its edge, and you were given one last kiss to swear his promise of return to you.

“Din. My name is Din.”

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hazel-light · 3 years

Text

CATCH UP ON CHAPTER ONE HERE

Chapter Two Word Count: ~8,500

Genre: (Wedding) Fake Dating, Friends to Lovers, lots of bed sharing and every self indulgent fluffy trope possible.

Warnings: None? Lots of fluff? Occasional cussing? Some suggestive themes, moments, and jokes I guess. No smut or anything!

Disclaimer: I am not Daniel Sharman, and I do not pretend to know how he would act, speak, etc. This is fiction okay, there’s a lot of creative license, and potential to be OOC. Ricky isn't mentioned because I started writing this before we knew he existed, so apologies for that. Also, if you’re DShar himself, please do us both a favor and don’t read this, okay???? Same if you know him 🙈

Title taken from the song Yellow Lights by Harry Hudson which suits this story quite a bit!

A/N: Thank you to everyone who sent me feedback on the first part! I really appreciate it :) Things pick up quite a bit here.... I hope you all enjoy! The third part will be up tomorrow, as promised. <3

It was finally time to fly back to Massachusetts. I had changed my flight so that Daniel and I could be on the same one and seated together.

It’s ridiculously early when I arrive at his apartment to pick him up in our shared Uber, since we have to account for the time difference on the East Coast. He opens the door to his apartment, looking super cozy and ready for travel, one suitcase behind him and a backpack by the door.

“Today’s the day,” I grin at him.

“Oh shit, is it really?” He feigns, rolling his eyes. “Good thing I packed early, then.”

“You’re a professional traveler by this point, I bet you have it down pat.”

“You would think that, wouldn’t you? I actually put a bit more thought into this trip than I usually do.... I need to make a good impression, and I’m making a lot of first impressions.”

I can’t keep my face from forming an endeared expression. “That’s really cute.”

He puts his hands up bashfully. “I take my roles very seriously, Lauren.”

I shake my head. “Well, it means a lot to me; not only that you’re doing this, but that you’re taking it seriously.”

He shrugs, softening his playful demeanor. “Even if we weren’t together in their eyes, I would care what your family thinks. They’re important to you, so it’s important to me.”

“Dannnnielllll,” I whine, “Please don't make me cry this early in the day.”

He laughs, picking up his luggage. “At this rate you’re not going to survive the weekend. I haven’t even turned on my boyfriend charm yet.”

God help me then, I think, making my way back to the car.

Getting through LAX is fairly easy, and remarkably Daniel successfully flies under the radar. He offers to let me have the window seat, but I let him take it, figuring the farther out of sight from the aisle he is, the better.

Like all flights, I fall asleep as soon as we hit cruising altitude; Daniel has his headphones in and spends the time working on something in a notebook. In what seems like minutes, I’m being gently shaken awake by a smiling Daniel.

“Lovely girlfriend of mine, it’s time to rise and shine. Our relationship starts,” he pretends to check the time, “now.”

“Oh thank you, handsome boyfriend. I’m ready.”

Daniel laughs as we stand and wait to exit the plane. Once we step off and onto the ramp, Daniel offers me his hand. “Ready?”

I lace my fingers through his and try to ignore the flutter in my stomach. “Ready.”

Getting our luggage from baggage claim is fairly painless, which leads us to looking for Ryan and Katharine, his longtime girlfriend, in the airport. They’re picking us up on their way to the hotel on the Cape, where the wedding reception is going to be held, and also where we’re going to be staying.

We walk through the airport hand in hand, as I check my phone yet again to see if Ryan has texted. Nothing. We stop for a moment, and peripherally I hear a girl’s voice from behind us,

“Um excuse me, are you Daniel Sharman? Can I get a photo?”

I glance at Daniel, whose face has gone blank. I move to let go of his hand instinctively but he tightens his grip as we turn around. I laugh when I realize the voice belongs to Katharine, who’s standing in front of Ryan, who is trying his best not to laugh.

“Not funny, you guys,” I say, biting back a grin. “We haven’t been recognized so far.”

I turn back to Daniel, who’s looking at me slightly confused. “Daniel, please meet Ryan and his girlfriend Katharine.”

“Oh,” he laughs, reaching out to shake their hands. “That was good. It’s nice to meet you both.”

Katharine knocks into Ryan, who’s still grinning. “It was this loser’s idea. He said he couldn't do it because you’d recognize his voice too soon.”

“A fair point,” I add, teasing. “Besides, women tend to be Daniel’s main demographic, so.”

Daniel scoffs and rolls his eyes.

“What?” I laugh, “It’s true.”

“I wanted to see if you’d drop her hand in front of a fan,” Ryan challenges. “You passed the test.”

“That’s a stupid test, Ry. I wouldn’t have been offended if he did, since this is our first public outing as a couple.”

Daniel looks at me like I’ve somehow insulted him. “I would never do that to you, Laur. That’s crazy; I wouldn’t try to hide you.”

“Okay, well, I’m just saying.” I look at Ryan expectantly. “Still trying to figure out why you haven’t hugged me yet.”

“It takes two hands to hug, I think,” he taunts, nodding towards where Daniel and I are still holding hands.

I blush. “Can you not be this annoying? We literally just arrived.” I let go of Daniel’s hand and step toward Ryan. Katharine and Daniel watch amusedly as Ryan and I hug, trying to see who can crush the other the most. “I missed you, dummy.”

“I missed you, too. You can let go now. Really.”

I let go of Ryan and narrow my eyes at him. “You’re a brat.”

“Whatever, let’s go.”

I grab the handle of my suitcase, smiling at Daniel, who smiles softly back at me. I glance at his hand and then back at him, and he chuckles softly as he meets me halfway in my attempt to hold his hand again. I blush and look away, turning my attention back to Ryan and Katharine, who are leading us out of the airport to where they’d parked.

---

The car ride to the hotel on the Cape is filled with small talk, mainly questions for Daniel, who takes them in stride. I watch him and smile as he is able to keep up with Ryan’s antics and provide thoughtful answers. He is anything but flustered, and I feel a sense of pride trickle through me. At some point, Daniel catches me watching up with a smile on my face and he just smiles back, continuing his easy conversation with Ryan and Katharine. I jump in where I’m needed, or when I can provide something interesting, but for the most part I bask in how well things seem to be going.

Once we arrive and park at the hotel, the four of us get our luggage and head inside to check in. Ryan gives our name to the woman at the desk and she looks us up.

“Got it. I see the mother of the bride reserved two king rooms on the wedding family floor, which is 3.” I see Ryan glance at us, but I just don’t look at him, I just squeeze Daniel’s hand.

“That sounds right to me.”

Daniel nods next to me. The woman nods and hands us each two key cards. We thank her and head to the elevator for our floor.

Katharine checks her phone. “Do you guys want to get settled and meet back up for dinner? The hotel restaurant has seating out by the beach.”

I look at Daniel who looks at me before shrugging. “Yeah, that sounds great. You want to meet in like 45 minutes?”

The elevator dings and we exit to our floor. Our room is farther down the hall than Ryan and Katharine’s.

“Sure, we’ll head over to your room then.” Ryan smiles before ducking into his room with Katharine.

Once I hear their door click shut, I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding.

Daniel huffs a laugh at me, stopping to unlock our door.

“You alright?”

“Great. How’re you doing with all this?”

“Good; they’re nice— Ryan is literally exactly what I expected.”

I laugh at that and follow Daniel into the room. I look around and admire the quaint decor. The bed takes up most of the room but there’s a closet and a bureau on the opposite wall, and tall windows that don’t open but overlook the beach below and the sea beyond. Opposite the windows is a wall covered in different paintings and signs— very boho beachy.

I sit on the bed and look at Daniel, who’s already unzipping his luggage to hang up his suit.

“This is cute,” I comment.

“Yeah, it’s nice.”

I bite my nail and watch as he turns around to face the closet.

“I uh, forgot that we’d be sharing a bed. Just didn’t think of it— sorry.”

Daniel laughs and gives me an incredulous look over his shoulder.

“You thought your aunt would book us two beds even though as far as she knows we’re super in love?”

I blush. “Well, no. I just— I don’t know, I didn’t even think about it is all I meant.”

Daniel rolls his eyes. “It doesn’t bother me. I quite appreciate a good cuddle, if I’m honest. Haven’t had one in a while.”

I raise my eyebrows. “Oh?”

“Why— do you hate that? Are you one of those women who like their space?”

I snort. “No, no, we can cuddle. You just surprise me, is all.”

“Surprise you, huh?”

Daniel turns around with a mischievous sparkle in his eye. He takes two strides so he’s standing in front of me, and puts his hands on either side of my face. He leans down so we’re eye to eye and I can’t help but glance briefly at his lips, wondering if he’s going to kiss me again.

“You know,” he says softly, “You should really unpack your dress so it doesn’t wrinkle.” He winks and pulls back, kissing my forehead.

I shake my head even though he’s facing away from me now, hopping off the bed to follow his advice.

“You’re trouble, Sharman. Such a tease.”’

“Sorry?” He looks at me innocently, batting his eyelashes dramatically. “Oh, were you expecting a kiss?”

I feel myself blush as I pull my dress out and walk around him to hang it up.

“I wasn’t expecting anything. Like I said, you’re full of surprises.”

He lowers his voice. “So, you don’t want a kiss?”

I turn around to face him, eyes narrowed, thoughts rushing, but before I can retort there’s a knock on the door.

I turn away promptly to answer the door, grateful for the exit. I hear Daniel chuckle behind me as I open the door to reveal Ryan, who clears his throat.

“Hope I’m not interrupting.” He peers past me, presumably at Daniel. “Katharine called the restaurant to make a reservation and they only had a 6:45, so she said we’d take it. I tried to text you but you didn’t answer.”

“Sorry,” I apologize. “My phone's still in my bag. We were unpacking.”

“That’s fine. Are you guys good to head to dinner, or...?”

I feel an arm wrap around my waist. “Yeah, we’re good. I grabbed your purse, Laur, and I have my wallet and the room key.”

I can feel Ryan watching me so I lean back against Daniel’s chest and look up at him. “Thank you,” I say sweetly, taking my bag from him before turning back to Ryan. “Let’s go.”

—-

Dinner on the beach is lovely. There’s a subtle warm breeze and the food is delicious. The conversation is easy and I can’t help but feel an unusual sense of peace of bringing two of my favorite men together and having them get along so well.

I’m in a reverie when I feel Daniel’s hand lightly squeeze my thigh, bringing me back to reality. I blink, looking across the table at Ryan and Katharine, and try to ignore Daniel smirking next to me.

“Hmm? Sorry, I dazed out there for a minute.”

Katharine laughs. “Totally fine, I was asking how it’s been dating someone who's in the spotlight.”

“Oh, um.” I pause, taking a sip of water. “It’s been fine, you know, since we’ve been so low key about it. The public doesn’t know about us. I imagine it’d be different then.”

Daniel nods. “I think for the most part, the fans would be welcoming, but there are always going to be people who… aren’t.”

Ryan leans on his hand, looking between the two of us. “Isn’t it weird, though? The thought that there are so many girls thinking about getting with your boyfriend constantly?”

“I—” I look at Daniel, who looks mortified, but also curious at how I’ll respond. “I guess I’ve never really thought about it like that.”

Ryan makes a noise of indignation. “You watch his movies and shows and stuff, don’t you?”

I narrow my eyes at him. “Of course I do.”

“And it isn’t weird watching him make out with people on screen? Doesn’t it make you jealous?”

I open and close my mouth. I can tell behind his hand Daniel’s smirking, and even Katharine’s looking at me curiously.

“Well, of course I don’t love it— but I mean— it’s his job. There’s nothing I can do about it.”

I look at Daniel, who’s looking at me curiously.

“You never said it made you jealous.”

“I mean—” I shrug, at a loss for words.

He looks at me for a moment before looking away, clearing his throat as we’re interrupted by the waiter bringing our check.

Ryan goes to grab it, but Daniel beats him to it.

“I got it. I said I’d owe you a hundred bucks if you came with a real date, so,” Ryan teases.

I cross my arms. “Oh, and you believe me now?”

“After seeing how jealous you got in that conversation? Yeah.”

I scoff and Daniel and Katharine laugh while Ryan rolls his eyes.

“I’m just playing around, Laur.”

Daniel intervenes, sticking his card in the check holder and placing it at the edge of the table.

“I’ve got it, bro. First meeting and all that; but thank you.”

I look at Daniel. “You don’t have to do that, we all have our own jobs.”

Daniel shrugs. “I know, I just want to.” He places his hand on my thigh again, and leans in to kiss my temple. He whispers against my head. “Let me do this, please?”

“Okay,” I sigh. “Well, thank you.”

“Yes, thank you,” Katharine echoes, smiling.

“My pleasure.”

—-

We’re back in our room, just finished brushing our teeth, when I bring it up again.

“You really didn’t have to pay for dinner you know.”

“I know,” he says. “But I don’t want him giving you money like me coming here was something that had to be bribed, or bought. I came because I wanted to— the details of which Ryan doesn’t need to know.”

I hum in thought.

“Besides, apparently I’m causing you bouts of jealousy, so really it’s the least I can do,” he teases.

I scoff, “Comes with the territory I guess…. along with apparently fighting off swarms of girls who want to jump your bones.”

It’s his turn to roll his eyes, folding down the bed covers, “Do people even use that expression anymore?”

“Doesn’t matter, you know what I mean.”

“And yet, you’re the woman in my bed tonight.”

I laugh, folding down the other side of the bed, “How scandalous.”

“Very. Cuddling is serious business, you know.”

Daniel settles into bed, looking at me where I’m still sat on the edge.

“You coming in?”

“Yeah,” I flush, hesitating.

He extends an arm, and I take the invitation, cuddling up against his chest.

“See, this is nice.”

“I never said it wouldn’t be.”

“I know." He pauses, "Try to relax, I promise this weekend is going to go smoothly, if I have any say in it. Not to sound too cocky, but I’m good at my job.”

I laugh at that, before sighing, “I know you are.”

“Good. Sweet dreams, then.”

“Sweet dreams," I echo, snuggling a little bit closer to him.

—-

When I wake up in the morning, my chest is pressed against Daniel’s shirt, and I feel his fingertips lightly tracing up and down my back.

“Morning,” he hums.

“Good morning,” I answer, shifting slightly. “How long have you been awake?”

Daniel makes a noncommittal noise. “Not sure, didn’t want to risk waking you up to check my phone.”

I look up at him as best I can from my position. “You’ve just been staring at the ceiling this whole time?”

“It hasn’t been that long. Plus I’m resting, and enjoying our cuddle.”

I turn away blushing and snuggle back into him. “You are very warm; makes me not want to get up.”

“Our alarm hasn’t gone off yet—” He’s cut off by the alarm on his phone doing just that. “Nevermind.”

I make no effort to move from my cozy position.

“Come on,” He urges, pulling my hair lightly. “We have to get up and brush our teeth. I have a feeling there’s some kissing in our future, so.”

“Oh? Is there someone you have your eye on?” I tease.

“Just my fake girlfriend. I think I’ll probably need to demonstrate to her family how in love I am.”

“Demonstrate, huh? I’ll tell the children to shield their eyes.”

I feel Daniel’s laugh rumble through his chest, and I grin.

“Come on, we have to get ready and we have to make a good impression!”

I groan, rolling off and away from him. “I’m going to complain the whole time.”

“I’d expect nothing less.”

I don’t have to turn around to know he’s smirking.

Daniel showers first so I can use the bathroom to style my hair and do my makeup once I’m done with mine.

When I’m done, I find Daniel suited and sitting on the edge of the bed, scrolling on his phone. I walk up to him, standing in between his legs, and he looks up at me, taking in my appearance.

“You look beautiful.”

I reach my hand up to smooth his collar. “And you look very handsome; it might be a hard sell for anyone to believe you’re here with me,” I joke.

He shakes his head, smiling softly. He reaches up to take my hand, pulling my wrist up to his lips where he leaves a gentle kiss.

“I don’t think anyone will have any trouble believing that, actually.”

My heart stutters in my chest, and I swallow.

“Are you ready to meet everyone?”

“I am. Are you nervous?”

I look at him for a minute and really think about it.

“No,” I say, shaking my head. “With you, I’m not nervous.”

He smiles. “Good; let’s get going.”

—

As we exit the hotel, we take a right before descending down the stairs to the beach ceremony hand in hand. The sun feels warm on our skin, but the soft breeze keeps it from feeling overbearing. I can feel some family members’ eyes on me as I smile and wave with my free hand, sure I’ll have plenty of time to talk to them after. We pick our seats and I look up at Daniel, who is already smiling down at me. I smile back as he places our clasped hands in my lap, his thumb gently brushing back and forth over my skin.

“It’s a beautiful day to get married,” he states, looking around.

I hum in agreement, wrapping my free hand around his bicep.

“I always wondered about summer weddings— I’d worry that I’d sweat off all my makeup if I was the bride.”

Daniel huffs a laugh. “Yeah. I assume most grooms are sweating buckets before they even reach the reception.”

My eyes wander down to where he has the first few buttons of his shirt undone to accommodate the heat.

“My eyes are up here.”

My eyes flash back up to his, and he smirks. I shake my head and try not to blush at getting caught. He leans down to kiss my temple.

“You’re cute when you blush,” he murmurs against my hair, squeezing my hand.

I turn to him and raise my eyebrow. “Diving right in are we?”

He shrugs and diverts his attention back to the altar.

“Ryan looks so much older in his tux.”

I look to where Ryan stands next to Nick, Rachel’s soon-to-be husband, as one of the groomsmen.

“Sometimes I forget he’s only 18, but then he’s still a baby to me in some ways.”

Daniel shakes his head. “Just imagine, one day we’ll be sitting at his wedding.”

“I can’t even think about that— though, to be fair, he may beat me to getting married. He and Katharine have been dating since they were 13.”

He lets out a low whistle. “True high school sweethearts. Do you think they’ll stay together through college?”

I sigh, looking over at Katharine a few rows ahead with my Aunt Judith. “I hope so, I think they’re a good fit. She’s already part of the family.”

It’s quiet for a moment before something hits me.

“You said we’ll be sitting at Ryan’s wedding.” I tug on Daniel’s arm. “Plan on sticking around?”

“Well, I—” He opens and closes his mouth a few times, not sure of the right response.

I giggle and lean up to kiss his cheek before pulling back just enough to whisper, “You know, you’re really cute when you blush.”

He turns to me before I can pull away entirely, placing a quick kiss on my lips, leaving me blinking up at him.

He smirks. “Touché.”

———

There’s something to be said for attending a wedding with someone.

I’m not sure if I’m emotional because it’s Rachel, my cousin who I’ve grown up with, or the fact that when something particularly romantic happens, I look at Daniel, who will smile and squeeze my hand in solidarity.

We’re both a little teary eyed by the time the ceremony ends. I reach my free hand up to wipe a stray tear from his face. He laughs, embarrassed.

“It’s okay, I’m feeling it too. Easy to feel a little sappy on a day like today.”

“Mmm. Really sets the mood for the start of our relationship.”

I roll my eyes good-naturedly.

“Speaking of…” I trail off, eyeing a few family members approaching over his shoulder.

“Get ready, because introductions start now.”

—-

The members of my family that are introduced seem to welcome Daniel with no hesitations— and far fewer questions than I anticipated. He handles them all smoothly and I’m thankful we discussed some things beforehand. Eventually, we part ways, excusing ourselves with promises to catch up more later.

We don’t get too far before a little girl runs up to us. She can’t be older than 4 or 5.

“Hi,” she giggles. “I’m Marnie.”

Daniel and I share a smile, and I bend down a bit. “Hi Marnie, I’m Lauren, and this is Daniel.” He waves. “Are you here for the wedding too?”

She nods bashfully. “Nick kissed her! Now he’s a husband.”

Daniel laughs. “He is.”

“How do you know Nick?” I ask.

“He’s my cousin,” she says, kicking some sand with her sandals.

“Ahh, the girl he kissed is my cousin Rachel. Now she’s a wife!” I exclaim.

She looks at me curiously. “Is a wife like a mom?”

Before I can answer, we hear someone call her name, and we look up to see a couple around our age standing on the patio about 10 feet away.

“Is that your mom and dad?” Daniel asks.

“Yeah, I gotta go— see you later!”

She dashes off, and we wave at the couple who wave back, calling out an apology.

“It’s fine— she’s super cute!” I smile.

We watch as they head back toward the hotel, and presumably the reception.

We walk along the stone wall lining the patio, watching from a distance as bridal party photos are taken.

I look at him. “Should we take our own photo to celebrate the occasion, and how nice we look?”

Daniel laughs, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Sure.”

He bends down so we can take a selfie, before shaking his head.

“Wait.” He sits on the wall, and pulls me so I’m sitting on his lap. I try to mask my blush as he looks at the phone screen. “Better. More natural angle.”

We take one selfie smiling and another with silly faces.

“Do you two want me to take a photo for you?” A woman passing by asks.

I hesitate, but Daniel’s already handing over his phone. “That would be great, thanks.”

We stay seated with his arm around my waist. And I turn to lean into him, putting my hand on his chest.

We grin and the woman takes a photo.

“Boooo, boring,” Ryan heckles, walking up behind the woman out of nowhere. “Give us something good.”

I roll my eyes, and feel Daniel chuckle.

“Aren’t you supposed to be taking formal photos?” I query.

“I finished.” He shrugs, taking the camera from the woman, who excuses herself. “Now give me something good.”

“Alright Ryan, since you asked so nicely,” Daniel drawls. I feel his hand on my neck tilting my head up. “Give the man what he wants.” He smirks, eyes sparkling, leaning in to kiss me.

I can’t help but grin into the kiss as I hear Ryan quickly change his tune. “Okay gross, this is excessive. I got it, you can stop.”

Eventually we pull away, and I turn to Ryan innocently. “Sorry, were you saying something?”

“I’m starting to regret pushing the whole plus one agenda.” He frowns, handing Daniel back his phone.

“No you aren’t,” I tease.

“I’m going to go find my girlfriend,” he rebuts, stalking off.

Daniel shakes his head. “He’s funny.” Lowering his voice, he says into my ear, “One kiss down, many to go.”

I shove him playfully and slide off his lap, turning back towards the hotel to hide my blush. “If any of those pictures came out good, send them to me, please.”

“Okay, but wait.” He stands and pulls my elbow gently, and as I turn back to him his lips meet mine.

“What was that for?” I ask as we finally pull away.

“Just making sure we found our rhythm.” He shrugs. “Besides, as your boyfriend, I technically don’t need a reason.”

I bite my lip. “Is that so?”

He looks at me innocently. “It goes both ways, you know, these lips are yours for the day.”

I bark a laugh. “That sounds so weird, but, okay, noted.”

He grins, lacing our fingers together and pulling me back toward the hotel and the reception.

—-

Inside the reception, each table seats 6; we’re seated at one of the family tables with Ryan, Katharine, and my Aunt Judith. Aunt Judith is my late grandmother’s sister. She has a sharp tongue and rarely minces words when she speaks, a trait that suited her long career as a lawyer in the city. She’s one of the family members who I’ve been most nervous for Daniel to meet, as I know she’ll be critical and her eagle eye will be looking for weaknesses between us. I’ve seen her do it to Rachel’s boyfriends over the years, and even to Katharine when she and Ryan started dating.

“So, Daniel…” Aunt Judith begins. “Ryan here tells me you had… concerns, about Lauren telling us about you.”

Here comes the interrogation. I glare at Ryan, who shrugs, before looking at Daniel who appears unusually calm.

“Not concerns, really,” he starts, “We were friends for a long time, as you know, and I think we were both just nervous—“ he looks at me, “and trying to take our time in figuring out the transition into being together romantically.”

I nod, “And it was only like a month before I told Ryan. You guys know I tell you everything.”

Aunt Judith watches as the others laugh knowingly, and Daniel grins at me.

“Are you planning to keep your relationship private from the press?” She pushes.

“Well,” Ryan interjects, “At the airport they were holding hands, even when Katharine approached him pretending to be a fangirl.”

I roll my eyes, “That was so unnecessary, you guys. Daniel and I both like our privacy so I wouldn’t say we’re hiding it, but we aren’t flaunting it all over either.”

“I’m definitely not ashamed or trying to hide Lauren, if that’s what you mean.” Daniel jests lightly.

“I should hope not,” she says, looking at him over her glass, as she takes a sip.

Katherine turns to Daniel, “What is it about Lauren that drew you in?”

Ryan snorts, “Yeah, how’d she escape the friendzone?”

I put a hand over my face, embarrassed, which Aunt Judith seems to interpret to mean something else entirely.

“Please tell me you did nothing scandalous, so help me, Lauren….”

“What,” I look at her, “No, of course not, why would you assume that?”

She shrugs and Daniel intervenes, “It wasn’t something sudden… I always knew she was beautiful, and obviously as we became friends I saw how kind and thoughtful she was. Funny too,” he says smirking at me.

“Hmm,” she says taking a sip from her drink again, but I can tell she’s secretly pleased with his answer.

—-

Once dinner is finished I excuse Daniel and I from the table, so I can introduce him to Rachel, her new husband, Nick, and of course my Auntie Kim.

I feel Daniel’s hand squeeze mine and I turn back to look at him, smiling.

“Getting tired of all these introductions yet?” I ask.

He shakes his head. “No, I’m fine.”

“Such a good sport,” I tease, and he rolls his eyes.

We wait for the last people currently talking to Rachel and Nick to clear, and when Rachel sees me she squeals.

“Lauren!”

I laugh, “Hi Rach, congratulations!”

“Thank you,” she beams, looking over at Nick briefly.

“And welcome to the family, officially, Nick.”

He grins and motions behind me, “Who’s this guy you’re towing around?”

“Right,” I blush. “Rachel, Nick, this is my boyfriend Daniel.”

“It’s a pleasure,” Daniel greets, sticking out his hand to shake theirs. Neither Nick or Rachel do a great job of hiding their surprise.

“No offense, Laur, but when Ryan told me you were bringing a boyfriend I thought he was messing with us.” Nick interjects.

I force a grin on my face, feeling Daniel’s hand comfortingly move to my back.

“I’m all too real, I’m afraid.” Daniel interjects. “Sorry to disappoint.”

I lean back into him, and watch as Rachel smacks Nick on the arm.

“No, no, we’re very glad you’re real Daniel. Just surprised is all. Don’t mind Nick.”

Auntie Kim approaches saving us from the awkward encounter.

“This must be the infamous Daniel, who has won our Lauren’s heart.”

I blush, as she moves to hug him.

He smirks, “Well, she’s won mine as well.”

“You two are so cute. We are so thrilled you could come today, Daniel.”

“I was too, it is really great to meet you all after hearing this one talk about you all nonstop.”

The group laughs.

“We are very much looking forward to getting to know you better, hopefully this will be the first of many visits.”

He smiles, “Definitely.”

—

At some point much later in the evening, I lose Daniel. He steps away to use the restroom and I get pulled into conversation with a family friend. I keep my eyes peeled for him but somehow I don’t seem to see him anywhere.

I’m standing by the bar waiting for a drink when I feel a pair of arms wrap around my waist.

“Hi, darling.”

My stomach flutters at the pet name.

“Oh hello, I was wondering where you ran off to.”

His arms tighten around my waist. “I was having a riveting conversation with one of your aunts, actually.”

I turn my head to look at him curiously. “Which one?”

“Aunt Judith,” he smirks, waving the bartender over to order a drink of his own.

“Oh boy,” I laugh. “What did you guys talk about?”

Once he places his order he leans down to whisper in my ear, “She wanted to know if we were using protection, and after that, we went over the unexpected costs of raising children.”

I turn around in his arms, horrified. “No! —She didn’t.”

“Oh yes,” he laughs, grinning. “She did.”

“What did you even say?”

He pretended to think. “I told her, diaper prices are definitely outrageous, and I agree, college costs are inflated beyond belief—” I glare at him. “Oh, and that it was very important to me that we practice safe sex, but, if anything ever did happen, I would be there for you every step of the way.”

“Oh God.” I bury my face into his chest, and he laughs, affectionately stroking my hair. “I’m so sorry, that’s mortifying….”

“I’ve been asked weirder things, just being an actor in LA.”

“Still.” I look up at him. “Your answer was very sweet, though.”

“Well, it’s the truth. I’ll always be there for you— fake pregnancies and all.”

We’re staring at each other now, his fingers still running through my hair, his other hand on my lower back. Time seems to slow down and my eyes flicker to his mouth, his words from earlier echoing in my head. It goes both ways. Before I can talk myself out of it, I reach up to kiss him, because it feels right.

“You’re the best fake boyfriend, you know that?” I murmur against his mouth.

He pulls me closer to him, brushing his nose against mine. “I might need another kiss to convince me.”

The bartender behind us clears his throat. “Excuse me, sir, ma’am? Your drinks?”

We break apart, and as our moment ends I try to quell the butterflies in my tummy.

Daniel smiles politely at the bartender, passing me my drink before taking his glass in one hand and my hand in the other.

We make our way back to our now vacant table. He lets go of my hand to pull his chair closer to mine as we sit down, draping his arm over the back of my chair. I lean into him as we sip our drinks, people-watching the other tables and the crowd on the dance floor. I feel his fingers start drawing shapes on my shoulder, causing me to look up at him.

“Are you having a good time?” he asks.

“I am, largely thanks to you. Are you having a good time?”

“I am; everyone has been really welcoming. It’s nice to meet the people you’ve told me about, and hear the stories everyone has to tell me about you. There have been some good ones, I have to say…”

I roll my eyes, smiling. “I’m sure.”

“The only way it could be better would be if they had baby pictures.”

“Listen, I’ll be the first to say I peaked in preschool. I was much cuter then, I peaked—” Daniel laughs. “I’ll get some and show you. You’ll be so disappointed this is how I’ve turned out.”

“No, I don’t think so. I mean I bet you were cute but, I couldn’t be disappointed.”

I shake my head, blushing. “Don’t be so sure— you haven’t seen them yet.”

“I am sure…. I’m looking at you right now.”

I start to smile despite myself. “Oooooh, that was smooth, Sharman.”

“No, no, no," he protests, smirking, "it’s easy when you tell the truth.”

“Have you always been this cheesy, or is this a boyfriend exclusive privilege I’ve unlocked?”

“You know—” He’s interrupted as the little girl from earlier runs up to us.

“Hi,” she says bashfully.

I smile, “Hi Marnie,”

She turns to Daniel and taps twice on his knee. “Can I sit?”

Daniel looks at me, and then around the room. Marnie’s parents are nowhere in sight.

“Sure, angel. Where are your mom and dad?”

She shrugs before he lifts her into his lap. The three of us smile at each other as Marnie gets shy. She leans up to whisper in Daniel’s ear, cupping both of her tiny hands around his ear. I can’t hear what she’s saying but I watch as Daniel’s eyes twinkle in amusement.

“Not yet,” he answers to whatever she asked, and she giggles before whispering again, and he laughs. “Mhm, I do.”

Marnie pulls back and looks at him with amazement, whispering even more excitedly. This time he pauses before smiling at me, before turning back to her.

“What do you think?” She looks at me quickly before back at him, nodding shyly. He nods along with her, before leaning in and whispering in her head with his hands cupped secretly like hers had been. Marnie is absolutely beaming now. It’s easy to see how smitten she is with him.

Curiosity gets the best of me. “Do I get to know a secret, too?” I ask, teasingly.

She looks unsure before Daniel swoops in playfully. “Nope, these secrets are for me and Marnie only.”

“Darn it.” I sigh dramatically.

The music changes to something Marnie clearly recognizes as her face lights up, as she tugs on Daniel’s sleeve. “Can we dance? Me and you?”

Daniel looks at me. “Will you be okay here?”

“Absolutely, I’ll be watching.”

He puts his drink on the table as I pick mine up to take a sip, watching as her tiny hand fits in his and she drags him out to dance. The two of them are so cute and my heart feels like it’s going to burst.

Ryan slides into Daniel’s seat a minute later.

“You know, if you and Daniel had a daughter, she’d probably look just like Marnie.”

I glance at him, realizing he’s right. Dark brown curls and bright blue eyes, with a toothy smile and a loud laugh.

“Don’t let my ovaries hear you. I’m not having any children until I have two rings on this finger,” I say, waggling my left hand at him.

Ryan laughs and we watch as Daniel is so good with Marnie, letting her swing his arms around and move them to the beat.

“I like him,” Ryan says definitively.

I look at him, surprised. “Wow, I mean I obviously like him too, I just thought you’d be more skeptical.”

“I did too until I saw you guys together. I just…” He looks emotional all of a sudden. “Shit.”

I laugh softly. “It’s okay, Ry, it’s an emotional day.” I rub his shoulder as he pinches his eyes.

I see Daniel glance over, concerned, but I give him a thumbs up. He nods and goes back to spinning Marnie around.

“I just...” I turn back to Ryan as he speaks, giving him my full attention. “I can see that he loves you— really loves you. It’s all I ever wanted for you.”

I feel my heart squish uncomfortably in my chest. I feel guilty that my cousin is so happy for me, so proud and vulnerable over a relationship that’s just for show. I swallow.

“Me too, I— thank you, Ryan. I love you, so much.”

The song changes again into something slow and I watch Marnie shriek, horrified, before running off into the crowd. Daniel looks after her, humored, before looking at me, gesturing with his head that I come join him. Ryan must see it too because he kisses my temple.

“I love you, too. Go get your man; I should find Katharine.”

Like I’m in a trance, I don’t take my eyes off Daniel as I approach. He smiles and reaches his hands out for me, lacing our fingers together.

“May I have this dance?”

“You may, I was getting a little jealous over there.”

He drops one of my hands to wrap it around my waist, and I bring mine around his neck as we begin to sway, staying close together.

He chuckles. “Well, don’t be, I think everyone here knows who I’m going home with.”

“Yeah, you’re stuck with me.”

He smiles softly but doesn’t answer. I feel my eyes flutter shut as he moves closer pressing his lips to mine gently, tenderly. I kiss him back and for a second I swear I feel it— that all-encompassing love Ryan says he sees between us. When we pull apart, he keeps his head dipped down, pressing his cheek to mine for the remainder of the song. I close my eyes and nuzzle into him, letting myself pretend this is real, just for another moment.

Eventually I break our silence.

“Hey, what did Marnie ask you?”

“Hmm?” He murmurs, the sound vibrating against my cheek.

“During your super secret whisper time.”

“Oh,” he laughs breathily. “She wanted to know if we were married.”

“Ahhh,” I chuckle. “I see. What else did she want to know?”

He pauses as the song starts to fade out and our swaying slows down. “I don’t know if I can tell you that. Some secrets need to stay secret, after all.”

While it was clearly meant to be a joke, he says it a bit too seriously, so I drop it and smile tightly as we pull apart.

“Okay.”

He tugs my hand playfully. “Nothing bad, I promise.”

I make a face at him. “Well, I guess I’ll never know.”

He laughs. “You’ll just have to take my word for it.”

—-

A little while later, we’re watching Rachel and Nick leave for their honeymoon as the wedding party begins to disperse.

“I suppose we should say our goodbyes,” I say, tearing my eyes away as their car drives off.

I hug my Auntie Kim goodbye and tell her I’ll see her at Christmas. She fawns over Daniel, telling him to watch over me, and how happy she is to have gotten to meet him. It makes me smile to see how well he gets on with her. It’s hardest to say goodbye to Ryan. I hug him fiercely, and he returns the hug just as vigorously.

“I wish I could take you back with me.”

“I know.”

“We need to FaceTime more.”

“We will.”

When I step back, Ryan and Daniel go to shake hands, and I see Aunt Judith sitting at the bar by herself. I excuse myself as they chat and take the seat next to her.

“Aunt Judith, I’m afraid I leave again tomorrow.”

She turns toward me, swirling the scotch in her glass. She disregards what I’ve said and instead looks past me into the crowd.

“Where’s that man of yours?”

“He’s saying goodbye to Ryan at the moment.”

She hums.

“What?” I ask.

“He’s a looker.”

I chuckle. “So I’ve been told.”

“I think he could be husband material though. Not as dense as men usually are.”

I suppress a smile. “Huh, I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.” I give her a kiss on the cheek goodbye, walking over to rejoin Daniel who seems to be finishing a serious chat with Ryan as I approach. As I join his side, Ryan shakes his hand one last time before walking away. Daniel glances at me, placing a hand on my back, looking back towards Aunt Judith at the bar.

“Should I go say goodbye to her?”

“I think you’re alright.”

Aunt Judith waves at us, and Daniel waves back.

”Was everything okay with Ryan?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah; just talking.” He shifts, interlacing our hands. “Ready to go back to our room?”

I nod and we head towards the elevators, hands swinging between us. While we wait, I subconsciously start swaying to the soft music playing from the hallway speakers. Daniel glances at me smirking, and I look up at him giggling, “What?”

“Nothing. You want to spin, like Marnie?” He teases, lifting our joined hands. I spin twice before bumping into his chest, giggling more. “Ooops.”

He shakes his head at me as the elevator doors open. He wraps both his arms around me, walking me backward into the elevator and I laugh into his tie. I turn around so we’re both facing the doors as he reaches around me to press the button for our floor. The mirrored doors slide closed and I meet his eyes in the reflection. We’re both grinning.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous,” he taunts, and I stick my tongue out in the reflection. His arms tighten around me and I press backwards into his chest.

—-

Back at the room, we start to get ready for bed. We share the bathroom to brush our teeth and do our nighttime routines, playfully brushing and bumping into each other. I drag my feet, trying to make the evening last as long as possible, trying to stretch out this daydream I’m living in before we have to go home tomorrow.

I get into bed first, lying on my back and watching as Daniel pads across the room to his side of the bed. He shuts off the overhead light as he passes, leaving only the soft blue moonlight from the window covering us.

He climbs into bed next to me but stays propped up on his elbow. I look at him and he begins tracing my face with his other hand. I crinkle my nose at him, and laugh softly.

“What’re you doing?”

“Waiting.”

“For what?”

He gestures behind me to a decorative sign on the wall.

I turn my head to look at it. “I can’t read that without my contacts.”

His fingers trace over my lips, and I hold my breath at the intimate gesture.

His voice drops even softer. “It says always kiss me goodnight. So I’m waiting.”

I look back at him, expecting him to crack a joke, but he doesn’t; his eyes are sincere. I run the arm closest to him up behind his neck, catching my fingers in the hair at the nape of his neck. He takes the hint, letting my touch guide him as he leans down and kisses me.

The kiss is sleepy, soft, lips tenderly pressed together, moving slowly against each other. It ends with a few gentle kisses that drift from my mouth to my cheek, up to my forehead. His gaze is already fixed on me when my eyes flutter back open.

I start to think about how final that kiss felt, how this is the end of our weekend of pretend; how it doesn’t make any sense that we’re kissing when no one’s here to see us, but maybe we’re both lonely and already missing the comfort, the closeness of this façade. I run my hand up from the nape of his neck to scratch gently at his scalp and his eyes flutter shut, finally breaking our eye contact.

“That feels nice,” he whispers. Wordlessly, we shift so his head is on my chest, his arm around my waist, my nails still soothingly sifting through his hair, quietly lulling him to sleep.

---

tagged: @rogershoe @heyrowena @yunsh-17

#daniel sharman fluff #daniel sharman fic #daniel sharman fanfiction #daniel sharman fanfic #daniel sharman imagine #daniel sharman x oc #yellow lights

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