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notjustjavierpena · 5 months

Text

Heat

Series Masterpost | Main Masterpost

A/N: Many many moons ago (this might be an exaggeration), I wrote a direct message to @undercoverpena about one of her text posts that sent me into a horny spiral. I loved it. You can read the text post here. At lot happened since then, and I bet you all that she must have forgotten or thought I would not finish it, but alas I return from the dead.

Summary: Javier looks so delicious doing hard work under the sun. The kids aren’t home. Heat is not just what the sun gives, it can also be a state of your body.

Pairing: Javier Peña x reader (no y/n)

Tags: +18 smut, clit stim, piv sex, dirty talk, breeding kink, creampie, rough sex, javi p is sweaty and you are horny

Word count: 3k

Link to this work on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/51636391

Heat

It’s a thousand degrees outside.

It’s the beginning of autumn and it’s boiling hot, so warm that one cannot fully enjoy the weather when it makes everything feel crispier. You’ll be damned if you are going to spend the sparse and sacred hours of being childfree inside your house with a pout though, because your father-in-law has the kids after a long period of him being unable to babysit.

One would think that now that your three children are in Abuelo Chucho’s hands, it would mean having a long-awaited, as well as well-deserved, date night with your husband, but Javier has decided to spend the day renovating the back porch in the heat. You haven’t rolled your eyes at him yet, but the urge has been there several times.

You sit on the porch swing, dangling your feet just above the wooden boards that are soon to be removed and replaced. There’s a glass of cold lemonade in your hand, a bee buzzing somewhere nearby.

Javier is in the shed at the back of the garden. You can hear him move things around, occasionally letting out a swear word moments after something clatters to the floor with a loud bang.

You sip your lemonade through its straw. The honey bee has found the bush of lavender, and you let your eyes close to listen to the sounds of late summer, the start of fall. The sun dances on your lids, sweat forms at the small of your back just above your shorts and right below your cropped t-shirt.

After a few minutes where you’ve leaned back into the backrest of the porch swing, and nearly fallen asleep, you hear Javier returning. Automatically, your eyes open at hearing him speak.

“Hey, enjoying yourself?” He has come over to peck your lips. You allow it, holding up the glass of lemonade afterward to watch his lips close around the straw. He takes a long sip whilst his eyes are fixed on yours.

“Gotta stay hydrated if you want to work in this heat,” you note.

“Just gonna be all pretty sitting there and watching me?” He asks after swallowing, and you have to force yourself to look away from the way his Adam's Apple bobs.

“Mh-hm,” you nod without saying much, knowing you’ll break if you try to get an actual sentence out.

“Alright,” he just replies, and you swear you catch some sort of undertone in his voice. He kisses you again, lingering a second too long for you to be indifferent towards it, and then stretches again. A less collected version of you wants to undo his belt right there, but you let him go instead. Not without regret though.

And then he starts working, dragging planks across the soon-naked porch deck, and you start sweating even more at the sight. Even moreso at the grunts he elicits during his labor.

Javier is beautiful underneath the burning sun, sweat-slicked chest hair peeking out from under his grayish shirt that he has unbuttoned at the top. He rolls his sleeves up to his elbows because they cannot go up any further than that, tightening around the beginnings of his biceps and causing your head to swim when you think about those arms around you.

You allow yourself to ogle him as he is lost in the task. The straw in your lemonade sits in your mouth, your tongue curling around it briefly before you sip to clench your thirst. There’s sweat collecting on Javier’s brow, threatening to drip down, and when it finally does slide down the side of his head, your eyes burn from refraining from blinking as you watch the beads roll down his neck and into the clavicle of it. You press your thighs together.

The gray shirt has darkened in color around his shoulders due to dampness. Whenever Javier turns his back to you, you can see the darker patch has reached his lower back too. Your tongue darts out to lick at nothing around your mouth, and you know that your husband would laugh at you if he saw it.

There’s something dirty about watching the way he brushes slick hair from his forehead. He has knelt down on the deck by now, occasionally on all fours when he reaches for something in front of himself, and when he gets really concentrated, straining his back muscles so much that the shirt starts fighting for its life, he pulls a face that nearly makes you fall off the porch swing.

You bite your lip, choose your words but none seems to do the job so you settle for something more simple, “Javi.”

“Sí, mi amor?” Javier doesn’t look up.

You remind yourself that he has talked about redoing the porch since his father agreed to take the kids. You won’t spoil it for him, and you know that a half-finished project with three kids is not an ideal situation for you, so you compose yourself.

“I think I need to get out of the sun for a bit, can I get you some water?” You ask instead of getting on your knees to beg - or more - and then you walk past him.

“Sure,” he replies as you pass him, and it makes you unable to see the smirk on his face, “Water would be great. Thanks, honey.”

Inside the kitchen, you fill a glass with cold water from the refrigerator. You even get a few ice cubes from the tray in your freezer but instead of dumping them into your husband’s drink, you hold them against your chest with a sigh of relief. Something burns in the pit of your stomach, even more when you return to the porch and hand Javier the glass of water. He hasn’t gotten less enticing; shirt clinging to him, hair sticking to his forehead, a groan as he gets up from the floor.

“Should be done by tomorrow,” he says as he takes the glass from your hand, causing a bolt of electricity to shoot down your spine as your fingers brush. It’s ridiculous since both of you know that he is yours already.

“Mm-hm,” you watch him gulp down nearly all of his drink.

And then he does something that you might never recover from; he pours the remaining water over himself in an attempt to cool down. It wets his hair even more, and he runs his thick fingers through it to shake out the excess droplets.

Time stands still. Your heart hammers in your chest, pulse traveling through your veins until you can feel the throbbing of each heartbeat between your legs. You press your thighs together and let out a whimper of breath.

“Baby?” You say softly to earn a hm? It feels shameful to meet Javier’s eyes. However when you do, you notice his pupils have dilated in desire, gaze flickering down your body for the shortest time, and you choose to strike.

You step into Javier’s personal space, hand reaching up to lie on his chest. The soft pads of your fingers rest on his skin where his buttons are undone, and you try to keep a doe-eyed look on your face as you rub his exposed skin gently.

“I was thinking,” you start, trail off.

“Yes?” He drags the word out. You can hear the smirk on his face but it feels too vulnerable to look him in the eye.

“Since we’re alone,” you continue, gaze fixated on the chest hair that is exposed in the heat, “And since there’s air conditioning inside, we could do something together.”

“Do what?” He says like someone who has figured you out. His strong hand comes up to wrap around your wrist, lifting your palm to his mouth. He kisses it.

Your face burns with embarrassment at the fact that you can barely contain yourself in his presence. That and the fact that it is usually so easy, so why does it feel so difficult to ask for what you want?

“You know what.”

“I need you to say it, need you to ask for it, mi vida,” he teases and places your hand on the side of his face. He releases a breath at your touch, eyes fluttering closed so you feel brave enough to look up at his face. He leans further into you and looks as ready as you to give in.

“I need you to touch me,” your voice trembles. Javier just barely shudders at hearing your words, opening his eyes once more to reveal their darkened color.

��Touch you where?” Javier continues his little game. He mirrors you, touches your face too, “Here?”

“No.”

His hand moves down to brush your neck, “Here then? It must be here.”

“No,” you shake your head, “Please, Javi.”

Javier’s hand slides down your front and settles on the exposed skin of your belly. It causes you to hold your breath. Then it goes down, slips past the elastic band of your shorts and into your damp underwear. You gasp as two of his fingers slide through the wetness between your legs, tips finding your pulsing clit immediately after. Thank God you have hedges around the back garden and thank God that they’re tall enough to keep prying eyes away from the scene that unfolds.

“What about here? I hope it’s here because I don’t want to stop,” he rubs you off slowly until your legs start to shake underneath you. He works his fingers back and forth, from side to side, one on either side of your clit and something builds and builds and—

You come with a little cry and bury your face in Javier’s chest. Your hand on the side of his face falls down to his shoulder which you grip as you soak your underwear even more, thighs trapping his hand as they clamp together. As your head spins, Javier chuckles out a swear word above you.

“Never gets old,” he adds and you start giggling.

After a few seconds of letting you breathe, Javier cups your face and lifts your lips to his own in a kiss that tells you everything you need to know, where you’re heading, which direction. You kiss him back slowly and he licks the inside of your mouth, guides you toward the screen door that leads inside of the house. He has you, you want to say, body and soul.

“Let me take my beautiful wife to bed,” he begs and you nod repeatedly, mumbling a soft plea. He peppers you with sweet kisses that turn more heated as you get closer to the bedroom door. He toes off his shoes on the way, leaving them forgotten in the hallway along with pieces of clothing that he sheds you and himself of.

When you’re both naked, sticking together from the sweat that is already shining on your skin, he hoists you up and carries you to the bed effortlessly. You cling to him by wrapping your limbs around his body, and he kneels down on the bed and places you on your back - and then he doesn’t leave but instead melts into you.

“Te deseo mucho, mi amor,” he murmurs and crushes you so heavenly with his weight, connecting his lips to your throat and sucking a purple mark onto your skin. You’ll scold him for it later but right now, you simply whine. His voice vibrates against your neck, “You really thought all I was gonna do was redo the stupid porch? Not do you?”

“Could’ve fooled me,” you bite back with no real hostility, first snorting at his choice of words and then letting out a sigh as he continues tasting your salty skin, “I was ready to go insane, so please fuck me.”

“Dramatic as ever,” he teases and then holds himself up with one arm so he can reach down between your bodies. You bend your legs and let your knees fall out to the sides, breath hitching until it becomes a whimper when the head of Javier’s cock slides through your folds.

“Please,” you say, and have never been so willing. His cockhead catches on your clit, and your moan comes out a lot louder than intended. You are just about to cover your mouth with your hand when you realize you don’t have to; you can cry and whine and scream all you want to. It makes you yearn for him in a newfound sense and makes you want to scream already.

“Paciencia, mi amor,” he tuts but still reads your mind. He enters you a moment later, pushing inside easily from the slick that’s already smearing your inner thighs. He groans as you take him, eyes intensely focused on yours whilst stretching your pussy open in a delicious sting. Your hands find his broad shoulders instead of their usual place clamped down on your mouth. You let yourself be noisy as you adjust.

“That’s it,” he slurs, “Be noisy all you want. Good girl.”

When he pulls out and eases back in, the two of you moan in unison. He does it again but follows it up with a breathless laugh when your noises already climb in pitch.

“I know, baby, I know,” he says soothingly as if you’ve hurt yourself.

But then he shows no mercy and speeds up. His rhythm becomes something else entirely; hard and fast, sending the eyes in your head rolling backward into your skull with a f-fuck dripping from your lips.

Everything is so different. Usually, you breathe so deeply into each other’s bodies, connecting your lips whenever the other is about to give away what the two of you are doing to the rest of the house. Your noses will bump against each other as you are impossibly close to one another, an occasional h-ah escaping your mouth or a low grunt from Javier’s, and if not even a kiss can cover up the noises, Javier’s strong hand or your own will cover your mouth as you cry through the most intense orgasms a man has ever given you.

But now. Oh God. Javier is making you sing until the house is shaking, every noise bouncing off the walls to ricochet right back to your ears. You can hear yourself sound obscene as he makes you come a second time, wanton moans falling from your slack mouth. You tremble, thighs jiggling along his sides as he drives his cock into you to prolong your pleasure.

“There you are, Christ, you are perfect,” he praises, continues to pound your oversensitive cunt, “Let it all out, baby.”

“More,” you beg, “Don’t stop.”

“Wouldn’t dream of it,” he grunts.

You reach down between your legs as best as you can, already thinking of a third orgasm now that your clit is untouched. If not only to shout yourself hoarse.

Javier traps you between his arms, propping himself up on his forearms and sliding his fingers into your hair. He tugs slightly as he rolls his hips, pain erupting from your sensitive follicles and adding to your third high that is building.

You circle your clit fast, barely able to contain yourself as your cunt goes off into delicious spasm. You think you might actually start crying with how intense it feels, Javier’s cock twitching inside of you whilst he moans too. He buries his face in your shoulder.

“Don’t pull out,” you gasp up at the ceiling, nails creating little crescent marks on the muscles of his broad shoulder, “Javi, oh fuck, come in me. Don’t pull out. Pleasepleaseplease.”

The comment makes Javier pull back a little, raising himself on his elbow to look down at you. His fingers are still in your hair, an occasional moan tumbles out of his mouth as he continues reaching deep inside of you, and his eyes bore into yours. He furrows his brow from being so close, barely able to speak from how ragged his breathing is.

“What—?” He grunts. Any moment now.

“Not ovulating,” you moan back at him, tightening your legs around his waist to punctuate your want, your need. You try meeting his every thrust to encourage his own high, “Please, baby. Need you to come in me.”

“Mierda, estas una chica sucia,” his hips stutter, “You love getting filled to the brim, don’t you?”

You nod frantically.

“Just want me to keep knocking your sweet cunt up, huh?” He moans.

“Yes. Whole fucking football team.”

“C’mere,” he catches your mouth in a heated kiss, nodding slightly, but it turns messy as soon as he gets to orgasm. He whimpers into your mouth when he is just on the brink, and then he gasps as the first rope of come starts to fill you. You let out a big sigh against his mouth for show, taking everything he has to give you whilst he shudders in your arms.

It takes a moment to calm down. Your arms rest beside your head and your eyes close, trying to calm your heavy breathing. Above you, Javier hisses when he pulls out of you and you can immediately feel his come dripping out of you.

Javier kisses your exposed chest. He slides his hands up your forearms to eventually hold each of your hands, flopping down onto you again.

“Ice water,” you say after a while of laying together like this.

“Hm?” He squeezes your hands.

“Go get some ice water, your wife is boiling.”

“Fine,” he groans.

When he comes back, he has also brought a towel and you spend the rest of the afternoon trailing ice cubes across your warm skin after cleaning yourself up. It’ll be easier to work in the colder evening sun anyway.

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babydollmarauders · 4 months

Text

OH CHRISTMAS TREE — JAMIE DRYSDALE

jamie drysdale x fem!reader

12 DAYS OF KINKMAS

summary: in which y/n is decorating the christmas tree with her best friend and comes to terms with some deeper feelings

warnings: NSFW CONTENT, fingering, p in v, praise, dirty talk, i think that’s all?. (3k words)

notes: welcome to day 3 of the 12 days of kinkmas! please enjoy some soft friends-to-lovers with JD!

p.s. i wrote this prior to us learning that Jamie and Trevor no longer live together, so let’s just pretend they still do for the sake of the fic

“do you think Trevor is gonna come home tonight?”

my best friend shakes his head at my question, handing me another ornament from the brand new package we bought at the store today.

“definitely not.” he chuckles, “when he goes over to her house for a hang out, he never comes back until the next day.”

Jamie uses air quotations around the words ‘hang out’, which makes me cringe, squeezing my eyes shut as though it’ll help clear my thoughts of Trevor having sex.

“oh, i did not need to imagine that.” he cackles when he sees my horrified expression, nearly doubling over in laughter.

my hand finds its way to his shoulder, slapping against his hoodie covered body.

“you asked!” he shrugs, “i didn’t think you’d picture it!”

“my mind wanders!” i defend myself, elbowing him in the arm as he stands completely upright again. “just gimme the last ornament.”

he finally sobers up, handing me the final ornament and allowing me to hang it on the tree before we step back to survey it.

“we still need to do the topper.” he concludes and i nod, stepping over to the plastic bags on the coffee table.

i rummage through them, my hunt ending when i finally spot the sparkly tree topper. walking over, i strain onto my tiptoes, flexing my arm as far as i can reach to try and place the decoration, but i still come up short.

“let me help.” Jamie gruffs, and i drop back down onto flat feet, expecting him to place the topper himself.

but instead, he stands behind me, his hands coming up to grip my jean clad hips, and lifts me up. taking me by surprise, i quickly place the topper on the christmas tree.

“is it straight?” i ask, peering down in await of his approval, just in time to watch him drag his eyes away from my ass.

was he checking me out?

“yeah, looks good.” i have to bite my lip to stifle a laugh, my mind immediately drifting, wondering if he was talking about the tree or my butt.

he slowly lowers me, my body sliding through his loosened grasp, and as my feet begin to reach the floor, his hands slip up the hem of my sweater. his chilled touch against the heated skin of my abdomen sending goosebumps along my body, butterflies erupting in my stomach.

Jamie tenses, his hands lingering even after my feet are flat against the hardwood, and a light shiver wracks my body.

i like it.

i mean, i know i’ve always tiptoed the line between platonic and romantic feelings with Jamie. even when we first met, i had hoped we would be something more. but then we became best friends, and i never thought there was any chance of us becoming anything else. so i locked those feelings away, living in quiet delusion that they never existed. but now i’m forced to face them again; forced to come to terms with the fact that they’re still there, and i still want more with him.

i turn my head, glancing over my shoulder and locking eyes with my best friend. and suddenly, it’s like i can see into his mind, reading him like an open book.

he likes it too.

i blink and all too quickly, Jamie is dropping his hands, stepping back hurriedly.

“sorry.” he mutters, casting me a small yet forced smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

i turn to face him, fighting the urge to pull him back to me.

“there’s no need to apologize.” i can only hope that i’m accurately conveying my underlying feelings. that he understands that i mean my words and also that they hold a deeper meaning than just dismissing his apology.

“there’s not?” his eyebrow raises, his hand flexing in front of him as though in a mental battle with himself; whether or not he should touch me again.

my head shakes slowly and i step closer, gazing up through my lashes to meet his eyes. my hand wraps around his wrist, scanning his face to gauge his reactions and emotions as i guide his touch back underneath my sweater and onto my waist.

his fingertips lightly skim my flesh, his sight cautiously flickering between my eyes and my lips. he must find what he’s searching for, because within a moment, his palm is pressed flat to my body, his fingers curling around my waist as he draws me even closer to him. our bodies are mere inches away from each other now, toeing the line between friendly and loving.

“do you…?” he trails off but he doesn’t have to finish his sentence in order for me to understand his meaning. i hum in agreement.

“do you…?” i repeat, my vocal inflection rising as i trail off; a question of my own, not ready to make the final jump unless i know for sure.

Jamie groans, finally pulling me flush against him, “god, yes.”

my best friend wastes no time in crashing his lips upon mine, his free hand tangling in my hair to tilt my head back.

a quiet moan travels up my throat, blocked by our locked lips which leave no choice but to vibrate against them.

he pulls away just slightly and i instinctively chase after him for a second.

“how long have you felt this way?” he whispers against me, simultaneously walking backwards, pulling me with him until my knees are resting on either side of him on the couch.

“since we met.” my confession is breathy and rushed, wanting nothing more than to feel his lips on mine again. “i thought i would get over it- that you didn’t see me like that.”

“fuck, i saw you like that.” he sounds pained, his grip tightening on my hips to keep me in place as i attempt to roll them against his. “of course i saw you like that.

“you’re beautiful, and smart, and kind. fuck, how could i not see you as more when you’re literally my dream girl? i never wanted to be just friends with you.”

i whimper at his words as he connects his mouth to my neck, pressing a trail of open mouthed kisses from my collarbone to my jawline.

“the amount of time we’ve wasted-” i’m cut off as he rolls his hips up to meet mine, a broken moan drawn from my lips at the feeling.

“shhh, don’t think about that.” he mutters against my skin, “we know now.”

his grip on my hips loosens as he guides them down to meet his. his lips finally meet mine again, suckling on my bottom lip as i sigh in pleasure.

“bed.” i huff as he pulls away. “let’s go to your bed.”

his arms encircle my waist, holding me to him as he rises to his feet, allowing me to lock my legs around him.

he’s efficient in making his way to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind us and dropping me onto his mattress.

“are you sure?” his blue eyes gaze into mine; swimming with concern.

i nod frantically, my fingers coiling through his belt loops to tug him back to me, “absolutely.”

he whines lowly, cupping my face gingerly with his hands.

“you don’t know how badly i’ve wanted this.”

he bends forward to kiss my lips, kneeling down on the bed between my spread legs.

the kiss quickly develops back into something lustful and intense, my hands shaking with pent up desire as they clutch at the hem of his shirt. i play with it, subtly letting him know that i want it off, but he just chuckles against my lips.

“use your words, pretty girl.”

i mewl at his remark and the way his swollen lips brush against mine.

“off, please.” i whisper through panted breaths. “i don’t want anything between us.”

he backs away, maintaining eye contact as he pulls his sweatshirt over his head, drawing the t-shirt underneath with it. i bite at the inside of my bottom lip, taking the chance to memorize every detail of his torso.

every freckle, every curve, every hair or birthmark being lasered into my brain.

he’s so perfect.

his nimble fingers drop to the button of his jeans, unfastening them and pulling them down until he’s left in nothing but his boxer briefs. his half-hardened cock bulges through his boxers, and the sight has me grinding down into the mattress.

he’s gonna ruin me.

“your turn, sweetheart.” he gives me barely any chance to do the work myself, his hands pulling my sweater over my head.

i push my staticky hair over my shoulder, lifting my hips and allowing him to pull my jeans off of my legs.

i’m sat clad in a black bra and mismatch panties, but under his gaze, i find no reason to be embarrassed that i’m not wearing something sexier.

“beautiful.” he murmurs, as though not telling me, but acknowledging it to himself.

i scoot further up the mattress, allowing him the space to crawl to me. his hands and knees sink into the soft surface as he comes to hover above me, capturing my lips with his.

one hand steadies himself as the other explores my body, grazing over my breasts as it runs down my chest. my body shudders in response and i can feel him smirk into the kiss, his thumb rubbing over the padding that covers my peaked nipples.

i yearn to feel his skin against mine, the heat of our bodies mingling; pushing me to arch my back as i slide my hands underneath to unclasp my bra.

he draws back as i slide the straps down my arms before flinging the garment onto the floor.

my nipples pebble against the frigid air, goosebumps littering my body, and i breathe heavily under Jamie’s stare, mentally urging him to do something.

“you’re fucking perfect.” he growls, dipping down to latch onto my breast. his lips close around the stiffened bud, his warm tongue circling as he sucks, and a cry of pleasure echoes off the walls as my head tips back, burrowing further into the pillow behind me.

“Jamie.” my back arches toward him, desperate underneath his touch.

he pulls away with a wet pop, kissing across my sternum and over to the other side while his fingers come to pinch and pull at the nipple he just abandoned.

“i need you.” i breathe out, voice cracking as my hands bury into his hair, pulling him back up to look at me.

“yeah?” he teases. his touch slides down my abdomen until he reaches to waistband of my panties, and as soon as i nod in permission, his fingers are slipping past the elastic band; dipping low into my wetness.

my eyes roll back as he glides his middle finger through my folds, using my slick as lubricant to circle my swollen clit.

“so wet for me.” he groans, his face burying in my neck as his lip find their place against my throat once more. “i could slide into you right now, don’t even need any foreplay.”

i moan, my hips rolling against him as he slips one finger into me, his thumb replacing to continue the contact against my clit.

“but i’m still gonna make you come on my fingers.” he states, curling the finger inside me to push against the spongey spot that makes my toes curl. “then i’m gonna make you scream on my cock. gonna fuck you like you deserve.”

he slips a seconds finger into me, providing me with the familiar pleasurable stretch as the ever growing knot in my stomach tightens further and further.

“Jamie, i’m gonna-” i can’t even finish my sentence, my jaw dropping slack as he finds the sweet spot just behind my ear.

“you gonna make a mess on my fingers?” my abdomen tightens as i clench around his fingers, my eyes squeezing shut as i whimper his name. “taking ‘em so well, like such a good girl.”

and just like that, the knot snaps, his fingers continuing their pace as he rides out my orgasm.

he pulls his head back, watching as my face scrunches in satisfaction, my breath catching in my throat as my hips stutter.

“so pretty when you come for me.” he mumbles, pulling his fingers out of my panties as i come down from my high.

my eyes flutter open, my blurry vision focusing as i watch him lick his fingers clean of my release.

my hands fly down to the waistband of his boxers, tugging recklessly.

“please.” i cry and he smiles sultrily, knocking my hands away in order to replace them with his own.

he pushes his boxers down, kicking them off his legs and the bed. his erection presses between us, his tip red and glistening with precum.

his fingers hook into the sides of my panties, pulling them down my legs and tossing them to the side.

“i need you.” i purr, my hand wrapping around his base and causing a shiver to wrack his body.

he moans, leaning over to rummage in his bedside table as i slowly pump his length. the foil packet in his hand is ripped open with his teeth before he shoves my hand away, rolling the condom down his shaft.

my legs spread even wider as he positions himself between them, sliding his cock through my wetness.

my body convulses slightly as his tip drags across my sensitive clit; and at my reaction, he smirks, repeating his actions and making me whimper.

“please,” i beg, “don’t tease me.”

he enters me with shallow strokes, taking his time to make sure i’m throughly stretched out and ready for him.

my legs clamp around his waist, my hips rolling up to meet his thrusts.

“so tight,” he sighs, his head tipping back as i bite my lip to hold in my sounds. “like you were made for me.”

as soon as he’s completely inside me, he pulls almost entirely out before pumping back in, his hand sprawling across my lower stomach to apply a light pressure.

“Jamie!” i squeak as his tip continues to hit against my g-spot with each thrust, my hands flying up to clutch at his back.

my nails dig into his skin, surely leaving crescent indentations in his pale skin.

“that’s right, pretty girl.” his voice is tight and strained, barely heard over the squelching sounds of his dick inside of my wet pussy. “scream my name.”

with each roll of his hips, his pelvis brushes against my puffy clit, my body shaking with pleasure as he fucks into me.

“feels so good.” i shudder out, craning my neck to pepper kisses against his shoulder and throat. “don’t stop.”

his pace quickens, and after my first release, my second is rapidly approaching, the pressure building in my stomach.

“fuck, i’m not gonna last.” he gruffs out, his hand slipping down from my stomach to my clit, rubbing in figure eights.

“i’m so close.” i tell him breathily, my toes curling as i clench around him.

“shit, shit, shit.” his hips stutter, his thrusts growing faster and sloppier as he chases his high.

“Jamie!” my back arches, holding my breath as my legs begin to shake around him, the pressure in my abdomen quickly releasing as i come around his cock.

my vision goes white behind my eyelids while he curses, spilling out into the condom as he continues to fuck me through our releases.

“you’re fucking perfect.” he grumbles, his weight dropping onto me as we both come down from our orgasms.

the room is silent besides the sound of our heavy breaths, and we lay there for a moment in quiet bliss.

“i love the way you whimper my name from your pretty little lips when you come.” he breaks the silence, rolling off of me.

a hiss leaves my lips as he slides out of me, sensitivity in overdrive after two orgasms.

“i love you.” i whisper, turning my head to gauge his reaction at my admission.

a warm smile spread across his lips, his eyes sparking with joy as he leans in to kiss me, “i love you too.”

unlike the last, this kiss is gentle and sweet, dripping with our aforementioned love, rather than lust.

“let’s clean you up.” he murmurs, rising from the bed.

he pulls his boxers back on, helping me into his t-shirt before he retreats from the room. when he reappears, he holds a wet washcloth.

kneeling between my spread legs, he swipes the washcloth through my folds, cleaning me of my own cum, and my hips buck up at the sensation against my overworked clit. he chuckles at my involuntary reaction, setting the washcloth in his hamper before helping me back into a clean pair of his boxers.

i stand to the side, my arms hugging my body as he changes his sheets, throwing the old ones in the washer and replacing them with fresh powder blue ones.

it’s only seven in the evening, but exhaustion plagues my body, forcing out a yawn, and he peers down at me with loving eyes.

“nap time?” he questions and i nod sleepily, humming in agreement.

he guides me back to the bed, tucking me in before he climbs into his side. his arm wraps around me, pulling me against him under the blanket, and a lazy smile gathers on my face as he cuddles into me.

he presses a soft kiss to the back of my neck before burying his nose into my hair, sighing in contentment.

the room is quiet, aiding me in my efforts to fall asleep; all the way up until i hear footsteps against the wooden floors outside the bedroom, my brows furrowing at the sound.

“is that…?” my question is quickly answered when the bedroom door flies open, revealing a hyper Trevor.

“yo, Jimbo, tree looks good!” the tanned boy grins, bouncing happily in the doorway before his sights lock on his best friend and i.

his eyes grow wide, his mouth dropping into an ‘o’ shape before he smirks, “FINALLY!”

#faithlynn’s 12 days of kinkmas #jamie drysdale #jamie drysdale x reader #jamie drysdale imagine #jamie drysdale fic #jamie drysdale blurb #jamie drysdale smut #anaheim ducks #nhl fic #nhl imagine #nhl smut #faithlynn’s writings <3

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biteofcherry · 1 month

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🧚🏻‍♀️✨Bippity boppity bow chicka wow oww! You’ve been visited by the Shameless Hoe Fairy, and now you must share a hoe drabble about:

Steve + “Are you trying to hide from me?”

Thank you for sending the Hoe Fairy my way, through all the trials and dangers of time zones 😆💖

Grateful for it, I wrote something slightly longer than a drabble? Oops.

I'm creating a new dark-ish universe here, so brace yourselves.

New World Order

soft dark!Steve Rogers x female reader

summary: After the snap and the breaking of the Avengers the world has turned into a darker place than it already was. Being under Steve Rogers protection should be your beacon of light, right? So why does it sometimes feel as if you're caught in a sticky web?

warnings: semi dystopian universe; soft dark Steve Rogers; manipulation; sprinkle of gaslighting; economical/situational power imbalance; dub-con; smidge of breeding kink; sex (p in v);

word count: 3k

Main Masterlist

A small creak startled you. Your body tensed and jerked, the jars in your arms almost falling to the floor. You held your breath, tightening your hold on the precious cargo.

The sound came from the other room, the one anyone from the compound could’ve walked into, so it shouldn’t scare you. Not when you made sure to cover any tracks leading to this special, secret unit, which you’ve discovered a few days ago.

Slowly, careful not to make any sound that might alert whoever was roaming out there, you put the jars down on the shelf. One by one. Gently. You kept your breath shallow as you did, keeping your movements to the minimal. Then you stayed still, counting down seconds in your head and listening for any sounds from outside.

As one minute passed into another, then another, until it was seven minutes, then eight, you began to relax slightly.

No further sounds, steps, nor voices came. You assumed they were gone, whoever it’s been.

With a little huff of breath, you turned around. The nose of your boot bumped into the box of supplies you sneaked inside. It made little to no noise, but it was enough for the domino to fall down completely.

Something clanked on the other side of the wall. Then the hidden passage in the wall opened.

Bright daylight filtered through and the broad, dark silhouette filled nearly the entirety of the doorway.

You lifted your hand to shield your eyes from the sudden burst of light, letting out a small squeak as you curled inwardly. It took you a mere second to recognize who caught you and while your heart eased at the realisation, there was still a part of you that feared the outcome.

“I was wondering what kind of mouse has been hiding in the walls,” came his soft, deep voice. “Turns out it’s my own little scrapper.”

Captain Rogers walked in. Despite wearing heavy boots he still managed to move quietly.

The wall closed automatically after him, leaving the two of you in a small room with light fixtures casting pleasant, but artificial glow from the ceiling.

“Are you trying to hide from me?” His lips curled in a lopsided smile, but the way he slightly tilted his head made you aware that he wouldn’t like it, if you said yes.

“Of course not,” you let out a nervous laugh, gripping the edge of the counter behind you.

“Not from you, Steve.” Nervousness still buzzed inside you, spiking as he neared closer and closer.

Steve Rogers, Captain America, could be a scary motherfucker, if he wanted to. Usually, however, it was reserved for anyone trying to harm people he protected. Or if his subordinates broke his rules in any way.

He may not be the golden boy you remembered from the very few, rare press conferences and pap photos from a decade before. Too much has happened, since he was the poster of glorified values the government tried to sell.

First, they stripped him of the crystal areola they put themselves on him. Named him a fugitive and a traitor, for wanting to protect his best friend and fight for justice.

His other colleagues have turned away from him, leading to breaking of the Avengers formation, which was supposed to protect the people.

Then, when the ultimate threat appeared, the remaining politicians blamed Steve and the other heroes for being unable to defeat Thanos. Tony Stark never returned. So many others have dispersed into dust. For a few years - as the world around you spiralled into dystopian nightmare - phantom governments have been using Captain America and other Avengers as the arguments for why so many things were failing.

Living became hard. Well, even harder than it used to be. People turned jaded and distrustful, so very few still tried to show each other support. Unable to count on governmental help, people have started forming their own little groups. Little communities that took care of each other, but were very wary of anyone else.

You met Steve when you shyly walked into one of the support groups he was leading. You’ve seen posters inviting people to the meetings, but for quite a long time you stayed away from them, because Captain America or not, these groups always meant selling your soul in some way.

Steve lured you in with his patience and soft voice, but was firm in pointing out that if you’d like to take some of the provisions back home, or needed aid, you had to do some labour in return.

You weren’t opposed to that, but you were wary. Still, you agreed.

Each task seemed more and more important, or that’s what you told yourself, because with each you’ve somehow gotten to work closer and closer to the Captain himself.

You worked dutifully, which was something Steve didn’t omit to praise you for on a few occasions. Which perhaps was the reason why he assigned you to a team that so often worked closely with him.

As much as it filled your chest with warmth, your gut tightened each time he got a little closer.

And he always got closer.

You always sensed his gaze on you. Felt your heart jumping whenever he grazed his fingers along your arm, in a seemingly innocent, sweet gesture. But there was something about his attention, about Steve himself, that made you feel uneasy.

He was charismatic, but also less lenient.

Caring, but didn’t give second chances.

Patient, but often merciless in his decisions.

He was still Captain America, but bitter and darker. Worn-out and dirty, like his suit, with the trace of a star that used to shine hope to those who saw it. Now that faith trailed with darkness.

When Steve approached you one evening, as your team was scavenging the territory the Captain and his Avengers have liberated from under the influence of bloodthirsty gangs, you felt that quickened pulse and whispers of self-preservation instinct telling you to be wary.

He said that he noticed you watching him. Which rendered you speechless for a moment. If anything, you always caught him looking your way.

Did he really think you were the one checking him out? Was it why your gazes met every time?

You stuttered with your response, not quite knowing how to explain yourself. Steve offered you that disarming, comforting smile. He touched your hand. Slipped his fingers between yours, ever so slowly rubbing the pad of his index finger between two of yours.

Such a small, meaningless gesture, but something about it had your cunt clenching in response, as if he was insinuating he wanted to rub you somewhere else.

Before you managed to explain the situation, Steve turned the tables on you once again. He leaned in and confessed that he missed intimate touch, as well. That it was understandable and he felt honoured you would give him your attention.

Then he simply walked away, joining Natasha to make further decisions regarding the operation; leaving you dizzy with confusion and conflicting emotions.

Was he right? Were you subconsciously seeking out his attention? Was your sense of unease in his proximity provoked by your attraction to him?

Because Steve Rogers was a very handsome man. From the soft strands of hair he had grown a little longer, to the way his broad chest tapered into narrow hips and possibly the sexiest ass you’ve ever seen.

From that moment, the Captain often approached you, smiled at you, and touched you however briefly. The pounding of your heart increased each time, your thoughts still clouded.

When he caressed your cheek one time, while having just returned all dirtied and splattered with blood from a mission abroad, your breath stuttered. He asked you to help him out with patching some bruises and you didn’t find the strength in you to deny a request from a wounded man. Captain America at that.

He took you to his quarters. At Steve’s command, the AI closed the door after you. Your fingers trembled as Steve guided you how to unzip and take off his suit (since his shoulder throbbed so hard, he seemingly couldn’t do it himself).

Steve’s fair skin was indeed marred with bruises and a few cuts, which you cleaned and patched. In response to your breathless “I better leave” after you were done, Steve slid his big hands onto your hips and softly asked you to stay.

Perhaps it’s been too long since you kissed anyone. Or maybe his grip on you tightened enough for the fear of repercussions freezing you in place.

With a tiny whimper, you gave in to his demanding lips and wandering hands. Despite your brain screaming at you to run away, your heart rate accelerated with pleasure, quickly drowning out the fear.

Steve had you sinking down on his thick cock right there, while he still sat in the chair and his suit was barely pushed past his hips. He groaned praises at how good you felt; how hot it was to feel your tight cunt stretching around him; how sexy you sounded struggling to take it all.

Even with some of your brain cells fighting against it, your whole body surrendered to Steve and the pleasure he drew out of you over and over again.

Maybe he was right all along and you were starved for intimate contact.

Maybe you were choosing to let him take you, so he wouldn’t hurt you or your family in any way.

Later, as you laid in Steve’s arms, you debated with yourself how good it felt to be held and protected, and that maybe it was worth following Steve’s subtle commands.

He took you again in the morning. On your side, sliding into your sore pusy from behind. When you hissed that it hurt, Steve slowed down, but didn’t stop. He distracted you by arousing other parts of your body - rolling and pinching your nipples, sliding his fingers between your lips and fucking your moth with them, using his wet digits to rub your clit.

Both of you returned to your duties afterwards, but in the evening Steve simply wrapped an arm around you and greeted you with a kiss on your temple. Then guided you back to his quarters.

He talked to you about everything, asked about your past, as well simply about your day.

But not once did he ask, if you wanted to have sex with him.

As the days passed, the less brave and determined you were to reject him. Especially not after Steve started coming over to your quarters, to meet your parents and play this whole thing, as if you really were a couple.

So if he was this sweet and supportive, why did you still fear displeasing him in any way?

“I mean I’m not hiding at all.” Your speech quickened slightly, as you explained your actions. “I may have hoped no one would find this spot that quickly. I would tell you about it, I was going to. But first I needed to, um, I wanted to-”

“Easy, honey.” Steve cupped your cheek.

He ran his thumb along your lip, cooing at you softly.

He didn’t look angry, nor suspicious. Which lessened your worries.

“So you found one of Tony’s panic rooms.” Steve took a quick look around. “Not many people know about their existence. Not many can find them.”

“It was actually an accident,” you laughed at that, remembering how you stumbled when changing light bulbs in a weird fixture in the main lounge room and instead of breaking the mirror on the wall the pressure of your fall activated sensor in the wall, opening the passage to this room.

You told Steve the story, watching mirth form crinkles around his eyes. He kissed your forehead softly, before pulling away. Not enough to leave much space between your bodies.

“And why are you storing provisions here?” He glanced at the jars and cans you stacked on the few shelves.

“Just in case. We have a storage and everything is rationed generously, but-” your gaze dropped as you mumbled- “somemayhavebeenstolen.”

“What was that?” Steve’s tone chilled and you felt the hair on your nape standing to attention.

With two fingers, he tilted your chin up. Blue eyes bore into yours, a Captain’s command in them snapped you into obedience without an order falling from his lips.

“I think I’ve noticed someone sneaking out some portions. Often.” You admitted. “I wanted to make sure we wouldn’t suffer much loss, in case that person continued to steal.”

“Why haven’t you reported it?” Steve frowned, his hold on your chin turning into an unpleasant pinch.

“Because the person I should report to first, is the one who takes it.” You also tried to convince yourself that maybe Walker simply was giving it away to someone in need.

“You could’ve told me.” Steve pointed out, his frown deepening in displeasure.

“But you always talk about the importance of chain of command,” you blurted out.

Which actually surprised Steve. His eyebrows arched up and then his disapproval was shifting into amused satisfaction once again.

“You’re so dutiful, honey.” Steve’s grin made you gulp nervously.

His gaze slowly trailed down. When it returned to your face there was a possessive glint in the blue irises. A hot jolt stroke down your spine, pooling in your lower belly with heat in preparation for what was to come.

Because even if your lips wanted to part on a pitiful No, you knew Steve would take anyway. And he’d make sure your body was on board with his desires.

“Why don’t you continue your impeccable service for your Captain, huh?” Steve dragged the zipper of your jacket down.

It was butter soft brown leather; once belonging to Steve, but since it was too big on you, he graciously encouraged you to cut and sew it, so it fit you better.

Steve parted the sides of the jacket, exposing your chest. One move was enough to yank down the stretchy top you had underneath. Your breasts spilled out and you clenched your fingers on the edge of the counter, forcing yourself not to cover yourself, even though you felt shy.

Steve cupped your breasts with his hands; squeezed them and kneaded gently. The coarse fabric of his fingerless gloves provided additional sensation. He rolled one nipple under his thumb; pinched the other. His mouth swallowed each little moan of yours.

He drew out a whine out of you as he tugged your bottom lip between his teeth, at the same time unzipping your jeans. Steve knelt down to take off one of your shoes and pull your leg free from the pant leg. Enough to have you spread for him as wide as he wanted.

“Umm-” you swallowed hard as Steve stretched to his full height.

He was so much bigger than you. So much stronger. Sometimes, when he had you in his arms, it truly made you feel safe. Other times it scared you; made you quickly comply.

Steve picked you up so easily, sitting you on the narrow counter and standing between your legs.

“I don’t have any more pills,” you revealed. “Contraceptives, I mean. Bruce said it will take a few weeks for the production to be finished, after that one ingredient turned out to be spoiled.”

Steve met your eyes. He listened to what you were saying, nodding his head intently as you spoke, but still unzipped his suit and freed his cock.

You couldn’t help it, your gaze flicked down. Seeing it almost daily didn’t diminish the awe of the cock a primal part of your brain declared perfect. Your pussy clenched, growing wetter in preparation for what was inevitable.

Steve’s hand closed around his girth and he gave a few pumps before guiding the angry-red tip into your hole.

He slid inside with a groan. Your own choked cry responding.

When he met slight resistance due to your position, Steve hooked his arms beneath your knees and pulled your legs upwards. Your ass tilted and your upper body angled backwards. It allowed him to sink fully in, until you felt that unpleasant pressure against your cervix and his balls met your buttocks.

Then, as he bottomed out in your unprotected pussy, Steve regarded your words.

“Slight inconvenience. But we’re skilled in adjusting to new situations and challenges.” He rested his forehead against yours; his voice growing more raspy and breathless. “If fate wants us to have a child, then we will rise to that blessing as well.”

He rocked his hips into you, his pelvis grazing your clit. You squeaked, bracing your hands on Steve’s shoulders.

“Fuck, honey.” Steve withdrew a few inches then slowly thrust back in. “Your sweet cunt is so tight and wet for me.”

It was tight, because he hadn’t prepared you thoroughly - sometimes it was a blessing, because there were other times when Steve was so focused on making you soaked that he turned you into an overstimulated mess.

Also because his dick was so fucking thick.

“My perfect pussy. Isn’t it?” Each stroke was a purposeful, unrushed torment, so that you felt those inches penetrating you. Owning you.

“Y-yes, Steve. It’s yours,” you mewled when he poked your cervix again.

“It was made to be filled, honey.” Steve’s pace started increasing. “Its purpose is to take my cock and milk every last drop of my cum, until your womb swells with it.”

There were protesting voices in your head, demanding that you shake your head no and that you tell him you didn’t want to get pregnant. But they never made it past the barrier of voices supplying that you always dreamed of having a family and that Steve would take good care of you.

Even if the objections somehow made it onto your tongue, the moans and cries Steve was eliciting with each thrust and filthy word deformed them into agreement.

“That’s it, honey. Taking your Captain so well. Going to take all my cum and thank me for it.”

#Steve Rogers x reader #Steve Rogers x female reader #Steve Rogers x you #Steve Rogers imagine #soft dark!Steve Rogers #soft dark!Steve Rogers x reader #soft dark!Steve Rogers x female reader #dark avengers #Siri #stargazingfangirl18

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usedtobecooler · 2 years

Text

hey, squealer | virgin!eddie x fem!reader

part one // part two // part three // part four

Pairing | Eddie Munson x fem!reader

Warnings | sexual content (18+ minors dni), oral m receiving, piv sex, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it!!), fingers in mouth, blowjobs, dirty talk (a lie, reader is just mean and likes to make fun of him), taking of virginity, mocking, fluff, mentions of horror movie scenes, mention of death.

Word Count | 3k

A/N | i'm back again and none of you can stop me!!!! virgin!eddie has me in a fucking chokehold and i couldn't rest until i wrote and published this. i've linked all parts to this series at the beginning so we have on place for everything. enjoy!!

It'd been a few days since your bathroom encounter and things were so much better this time. You were back to goofing off at work, speaking about anything and everything and you even had taken an interest in Eddie's D&D campaign that he'd been buzzing on about.

It was cute watching him be so passionate about the things he enjoyed doing, the way he'd excitedly tell you about how Erica had defeated his campaign again all whilst mocking Lucas for being useless, how Will had joined Hellfire since returning from California and fit in perfectly, how Gareth finally had a girlfriend.

It was so endearing to watch him like this, you were pretty sure if he paid close enough attention to you he'd see the hearts in your pupils.

"You wanna come to my house tonight?" You'd asked him after your Saturday shift, twirling your hair in your finger as you leaned on the cash counter, watching him bounce around slotting vinyls into their correct places.

Eddie's movements halted abruptly, looking at you and narrowing his eyes, "Your house? To do what?"

"Watch a movie?" You ask hopefully, a glint in your eyes, "Do you like scary movies?"

"I love scary movies, sweetheart," Eddie places both of his hands over his heart, fluttering exaggeratedly at your words, "what movie were you thinking?"

"I rented Halloween from Family Video," You smile all giddy as you watch Eddie's movements, so endeared by how goofy he was, "the first one, of course. No other compares."

"You're right about that," Eddie smirks, "give me your address and I'll be there, seven okay?"

"Perfect."

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

Seven came around pretty quickly and now you were getting a little nervous. Your parents were out for the night at some fancy event for your dads company that was out of town, so they were in a hotel for the night and you were home all alone.

You hadn't asked Eddie if he wanted to stay over, but you sort of hoped you could reel him into staying with your sweet words. Especially after watching a horror movie like Halloween, what an awful idea that was.

The doorbell rings and you very nearly shoot out of your skin, making to the door and opening it to find Eddie standing there looking all dopey and tired.

"Thank God this is the right house, I got nervous I was somehow on the wrong street," Eddie sighs, stepping into the house without an invite and toeing off his Reeboks as you shut and lock the door behind him.

"Nope, you're right where you need to be," You say, lips popping on the 'p', "the VCR is in my room, my parents hate movies so I get it all to myself, you okay to come up to my room to watch the film?"

Okay, so maybe that's a bit of a white lie and maybe you had spent the last half hour dragging the VCR upstairs and fiddling around with all the cables to make sure it was set up in your room, but Eddie would be none the wiser.

Eddie looks at you with wide eyes, nervousness apparent in the way he balks at you, "Uh, are you sure?"

"Course, we'll be comfier on my bed anyway," You smirk, grabbing hold of his hand and tugging him upstairs with you. Your bedroom door is already open, to reveal your pretty made up bed with a baby blue comforter effortlessly tucked in and a million pillows.

Your room is small, like the rest of the house really, so your TV is pretty close to the end of your bed, only a dresser and bedside table as other furniture.

"Make yourself at home," You shoo Eddie away to sit on the bed, watching as he removes his denim jacket just leaving him in his shirt and loose sweatpants, "don't think I've ever seen you in anything other than jeans."

"Oh, uh, I wanted to be comfortable," Eddie says, voice nervous and slightly sheepish as he gets cosy on your bed, "Jesus, how many pillows do you need, sweetheart."

"I like to feel like I'm on a cloud." You giggle, sliding onto the bed and automatically resting your head on Eddie's lap. You choose to ignore the sharp intake of breath he takes when you get comfortable, your big oversized shirt riding up to reveal a little expanse of your panties.

The TV was already on, video tape in and ready to go, so once you're sure you're both comfortable you press play and the movie starts, soon enough little Michael is walking through his home in Haddonfield to murder his sister in the front bedroom.

You lay in silence as you watch, in no mood for teasing as you lose your focus on Eddie and become engulfed in the movie playing out in front of you.

Eventually, it gets to the part where Lynda and Bob sneak into Annie's home to get it on, and you're trying to ignore the way Eddie is squirming under your head, when all of the sudden-

You shoot up from your place in Eddie's lap, "Are you seriously getting a hard on over Lynda's tits? She's about to die a horrible death, you freak." You're mocking him but your mouth is watering a little as you watch his cock strain in his sweatpants.

"They're nice tits," Eddie shoots back, voice weak and strained as Michael strangles Lynda with the telephone cord, "not as nice as yours though."

You lay a hand over your chest, acting all bashful, "I'm flattered, but you haven't even seen my tits outside of my top."

"Show me then." Eddie says, raising his brows as if to challenge you. What he doesn't expect is for you to actually pull your baggy shirt off over your head and expose your bare breasts to him, nipples hardening from the cool air right away.

"There," You say all triumphant and pleased with yourself, "I don't wear a bra at home, so jokes on you, pretty boy."

He's all flustered, wide puppy dog eyes drinking in the look of your tits, hand coming out hesitantly until you nod, letting him cup one in his palm, thumb rubbing over the hard nub of your nipple. A sweet sigh escapes your lips and you shudder from the contact.

"Can I help you with that at all?" You ask sweetly but still mocking, nodding towards his straining cock in his pants, "Looks like you don't wear underwear in the house either."

Eddie barks out a nervous laugh, "You caught me, princess." Your heart flutters over the nickname, core quivering as he stares at you intently, "I suppose, uh, I suppose you can if you wan'. Don't feel like you have to."

"I don't, I want to," You confirm, changing position so you're sat on your knees between his spread legs, "can I blow you?"

He chokes on his tongue, face going beet red, "Are you sure? Shit, you don't have to-"

You cut him off by digging your fingers into the waistband of his sweatpants, forcing him to lift his hips up so you can pull them to his ankles. His cock springs up all proudly, flushed red at the tip and already leaking a little.

"You're such a virgin," You sigh, just a little teasing coming out behind the admiring way you say it, all happy with yourself that it's only you who's ever done this for him.

"And you're such a slut." Eddie quips back, though there's no heat behind the words. You look up at him, furrowed brows and a dumb look on your face, all quiet for a second to make him squirm.

"I didn't mean that." He says eventually and you laugh at him, leaning down and gripping the base of his cock, spitting on the head to get it nice and wet.

"No, you're right," You admit, hand jerking him up and down and you don't miss the way he starts whining right away, "just a slut for your massive fucking cock."

A broken moan escapes Eddie's lips as you sink down on his cock, hot mouth gliding over the flushed skin and tongue licking over his head, hand twisting over what you can't fit in your mouth - which is a fair amount, and you're disappointed in your own skills now.

You force yourself to take a bit more of him in your mouth and your throat closes up, gagging a little as the head hits the back of your throat and Eddie shoves his hips up and cums with an embarrassingly loud shout.

You choke and splutter on his cum but still swallow it down, a little dribbling out the sides of your mouth as you pull off of him, "Could've warned a gal, Jesus Eddie."

He's embarrassed and you feel bad at the way he clenches his eyes shut and cringes like he's about to cry, "I am so, so sorry," he stumbles over his words, voice raising an octave, "I didn't expect you to, well, try to deep throat me and it caught me off guard."

You're smiling all pretty at him now, "Don't say sorry, I'm not mad," you say it sincerely, no mocking as you shrug, "that was kinda hot. Gives me a bit of an ego."

You slide off of the bed and retrieve a muslin cloth from your dresser, plopping back onto the bed with a huff as you clean him up, wandering hands ghosting all over his limp cock and his balls for him.

You pretend not to notice the hiss of breath he takes in and the way his eyes wander down to where your hands are taking care of him.

Eddie's back is pressed firm against your plush headboard and he's all flushed red, clearly still orgasm drunk from his first blowjob -- if you could even call it that.

"Do you trust me?" You ask gently, making to hover over his lap but not quite settling, still on your knees to keep distance.

"Of course I do, sweetheart," Eddie's eyes have a little twinkle in them, a dopey smile spreading across his face as he gently reaches his hands out to settle on your waist. You melt into it, body going a little lax and keening into his touch.

"You can absolutely say no, but," Your fingers dance over the front of his Hellfire shirt, the first time you'd seen him in it since you were both in high school, and it's making you feel a little juvenile, "I was thinking it was maybe time for you to pop your cherry."

You inwardly cringe at your words, you were hoping to be a little softer with him and a bit more serious but you can't help the teasing, it's like your brain is hotwired to automatically make fun of him.

"You're, wha-," Eddie's stuttering over his words, at a bit of a loss, "I didn't bring a condom."

The barking laugh that escapes your lips sounds mean, and you know that, but he's just so precious, "Honey, Eddie, baby..." you coo at him, "I'm on birth control. I'm totally clean too, trust me, surely you'd want to feel everything the way it's meant to feel for the very first time, right? So I'm sure the condom doesn't matter, unless it's what you want."

You can feel Eddie's cock pulsing between you both, clearly perking up at the thought of getting buried in your tight cunt for the first time. His face isn't so easy to read, though, you can tell his brain is running at a million miles a minute trying to soak in everything that's going on.

"You can say no," You say helpfully, a little bashful smile tugging at your lips, "I don't want to pressure you."

"You're not," Eddie says it in a rush, sitting up a little, "you're not rushing me. I just - I'm worried it's gonna be shit for you and over as fast as that was." He's clearly referring to the blowjob you just attempted to give him, face screwing up as he cringes.

"Hey, second orgasm usually doesn't come so fast," You shrug, like it's no big deal because it isn't, "you'll get better with practice, last longer, find what you like and don't like. It's normal, handsome."

"God," Eddie clenches his eyes shut momentarily, like your words are throwing him through a loop, "what'd I ever do to deserve a gal like you being so understanding."

"You were yourself," It's honest, that's what captivated you from the get go, just the way Eddie was in himself was enough to pull you in, "and now I get to mold you into my perfect little sex god."

You sink down a little now, your still panty-clad pussy dragging hotly against Eddie's cock, now fully erect again and slapping at his stomach. His eyes shoot open, biting at his bottom lip to stifle a groan.

And maybe this would be over quicker than you thought. But you were okay with that, the night was young and round two and three were always an option.

"I'll move these to the side," You say, voice quiet as you motion toward your panties with your left hand, "and then I'll do all the work, 'kay? You just tell me what you like and what you don't, and when you're close."

Eddie's mesmerized by your cunt, watching as you loop your fingers into the black material and tug them to the side, exposing yourself to the cool air, "Do you not-," he struggles, "do you not want me to... get you off first?"

"Trust me, honey, I really don't need it," You smirk, grabbing his hard cock by the base and hovering over it, slipping the head between your slick folds. You watch his eyebrows furrow, his mouth fall open as his head falls back and hits your headboard, clearly overcome with pleasure.

Eddie's silent, all words caught in his mouth as you let the tip of his cock breach your hole, sinking down little by little, gasping at the stretch of it because Jesus he's massive, until you're fully sat and nestled.

"Tell me when you're ready for me to move, Eds," You whisper, a whimper dying in your throat as your hand comes up to tug at the collar of his shirt pulling on it until he's looking at you, just to make sure he's listening and still okay.

He's really big, not that you didn't know that when you got your hands and mouth on it, but it feels bigger nestled inside the tight heat of your cunt, like you can almost feel him in your stomach.

Eddie nods eventually once his breathing evens out and you don't waste any time in getting started. To begin with you take it slow, only lifting yourself up just enough for a few inches to come out before sliding back down again, gauging how he reacts. His mouth falls open in a broken moan, eyebrows furrowing as he gets used to the feeling of your wet cunt gripping him so well.

He risks a glance down to watch your bodies meeting, the way his cock slides in and out of you and maybe it was a mistake because you're feeling his cock twitching already, whilst he watches your creamy release pool around his thick expanse of dark pubes, matting it down.

"You're - fuckfuck - making a mess," Eddie's voice is so whimpery and subby it makes you shudder in a breath, a whine coming from your throat as you swipe two fingers through the mess, picking some up and forcing your fingers into his mouth until he's sucking them clean.

"Shut up," You moan, finally bouncing up and down properly now, never taking your eyes off of his own, big and wet and perfect, your cunt gripping him so deliciously, sweet spot being abused with every stroke, "rub my clit."

Eddie lets your fingers slip from his mouth, thumb coming down to rub messily at your clit, absolutely no fucking rhythm to it whatsoever but at this point it didn't matter because you could feel your stomach tightening already.

"You're so wet," Eddie sighs, all mesmerized and struggling to rip his eyes away from his thumb on your cunt, until he catches your tits bouncing up and down and he leans forward to latch onto your nipple, licking and sucking it tentatively.

"You're gonna make me cum," You whine, crying out as you continue bouncing, trying to ignore how Eddie's own hips are fucking up to meet your thrusts and how it's driving you crazy, "Jesus Christ."

"Nah, just me," Eddie moans, and it would've been funny if he didn't sound so fucked out, "m'gonna cum, shit, fuck."

The sounds are so fucking hot it's driving you wild, the loud slapping of your skin connecting in this delicious smack, your sopping wet cunt sucking him in, the panting and whining escaping Eddie's lips and you are gone, clenching around his fat cock as you cum, shoving yourself down so he's all the way in to the hilt.

Your pussy clenching like a vice around Eddie's cock is enough to have him shooting off, grip on your waist so tight it almost hurts as he cums, buried deep in you. His orgasm face is so pretty you watch the whole thing without blinking, the way his curls fan his face wetly from sweat, his glossy eyes pricking with tears, his swollen red lips parting in a constant string of moans.

There's silence for a moment and as usual you ruin it by letting the intrusive thoughts win, "There's no way any other woman is allowed to have this fat cock. It's mine now."

Eddie barks out a little laugh, looking up at you with this big dumb smile, rosy cheeks flushing even darker, "Yours if you want it, sweetheart."

You lean down with hands on either side of his face to pull him in for a kiss, giggling and smiling against his lips whilst his softening cock slips out of you.

(i was gonna do a taglist but for some reason the tags wouldn't work send help - i hope everyone who wanted to find this does!!)

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dream-a-little-bigger-x · 8 months

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I Can See You | Spencer Reid

Add yourself to my taglist! | Here’s my masterlist!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x Fem!Reader

Summary: When Penelope's best friend comes to help out the BAU on a couple of cases, there's an immediate connection with the youngest of the team. After longing glances, soft touches and wild fantasies, the truth comes out accidentally. What is the resident genius going to do with that information?

Warnings: mention of serial killers and bombings, inappropriate thoughts

Author's note: I've wanted to write this one every single time I listened to the song but when @pastanest wrote it first, I was scared to do it too because that one is just too good (read it here)!! Anyways, hope y'all like this one, too :)

Words: 3K

Being Penelope Garcia’s best friend came with a lot of perks. Aside from it being impossible to ever be sad around her, it also came with the perk of doing the odd job at Quantico. We had met during her days as the Black Queen online and ever since, she had taught me all she knew about hacking and tech analysis. While she worked for the FBI, I worked across the yard at the Capitol as tech support.

Her job was a little more tantalizing – sometimes more traumatizing – than mine. While I simply helped the employees with their technical issues, Penelope actually helped save people.

And sometimes, she called for my help with a case whenever she figured everything would go so much faster with some helping hands and flexible fingers.

The first time she had called me on a case, I didn’t even know what I was in for. She just told me to get to Quantico as soon as I possibly could, that it was a matter of life and death. So, I packed everything up, and rushed across the street to the FBI building. I didn’t even bother to tell my boss. I was certain Penelope’s boss would vouch for me and get me out of trouble, even though I had never met him.

“Thank you so much for coming, y/n/n,” said Penelope as she took me into a hug as soon as I burst through the front doors and into the hallway.

“Penny, what’s happening? Are you okay?” I asked and held her at a short distance to inspect her for any injuries.

She waved away my question. “Yeah, I’m fine,” she said and grabbed my hand to drag me towards reception where I had to register. It wasn’t until after my bag had been inspected and I passed through security that she started to explain what was happening. “We’re working on this really tough case and though my dainty fingers are quick at tip tapping away on the keyboard, I’m gonna need your genius to get me the answers twice as fast.”

On the way up to the sixth floor, she briefed me about the case, just so I was up to speed before we actually started. I was too distracted listening to her rambles that I didn’t even notice another person rushing through the hallway on our way from the elevators to her office.

My shoulder bumped into theirs, causing me to stumble ever so slightly, but firm hands on my shoulders kept me from actually falling. “Oof, sorry!” The both of us apologized at the same time.

What I didn’t expect to happen when I looked up at the person was being so taken aback by the beautiful pair of eyes that locked onto mine. The hazel orbs had tiny gold specks in them, making them look almost honey-colored.

I was so distracted by his eyes, I didn’t catch Penelope’s mischievous smirk she would only get whenever she had expertly set me up with someone when we were out at a bar or a party.

“Y/N/N, this is my wonderful colleague and resident genius, Spencer Reid. Reid, this is my almost-as-sexy-and-smart-as-me best friend, y/n y/l/n,” she introduced us as the guy – Spencer – retracted his hands from my shoulders, convinced I was steady enough on my feet.

He offered me a smile that nearly wiped me off my feet again. “Hi, nice to meet you.”

My lips curled into a smile that mirrored his. He didn’t offer his hand to shake, so I decided not to offer mine, either. “Ditto, Spencer,” I said instead, unable to tear my eyes away from his.

“Okay,” Penelope then interrupted, “Enough chit-chat. We gotta go!” As I managed a quick wave at Spencer, my best friend pulled me along to her office where we settled behind her computer screens. While she explained how her system worked, my mind involuntarily drifted off to the disarming genius I met in the hallway.

For hours, Penelope and I worked on the case together, taking turns in getting drinks and food to keep us nutritioned. We were discussing a list of potential UnSubs after we had finished our lunch and I was chewing on the straw of my Sprite when Spencer burst into the room.

“Garcia, y/l/n, I’ve got something to narrow the search,” he said, causing my heart to flutter at how my last name sounded from his lips. He leaned between us, placing a piece of paper on the desk. His stomach was pressed against my shoulder whilst his arm brushed mine.

A chill ran down my spine, but I remained poised, trying to be professional. “Those are the places he went to in the last twenty-four hours?” I asked, deducting the theory from the map in front of me.

Spencer had drawn lines across the map, connecting at least five dots. “Uh-huh,” he hummed, then leaned in closer, his face right next to mine. “We were able to get these locations from the GPS of the rental car he used and ditched at the last murder site.”

His breath felt hot against my skin, but it didn’t stop me from starting to tap away on the keyboard, trying to find any CCTV footage from any of the establishments in the neighborhood of those locations. Within seconds, I’d found some footage from a service station where the UnSub was seen leaving the shop.

“Was this what you needed?” I asked sassily and turned my head to look at him. He was a lot closer than I anticipated him to be, my nose nearly grazed his cheek. Even up close he was pretty.

He stood up straight again, much to my dismay, and offered me a shy smile. “Only if you can give me a name, too,” he told me.

Raising my eyebrows challengingly, I turned back to the computer and ran the footage through Penelope’s software. Within seconds, I found a name, his age and address, which was someone on the list of suspects Penelope and I had been looking at for the past ten minutes.

“Can you send that to the team?” he asked as he took out his phone, already dialing one of the team’s numbers.

“Already did, pretty boy,” I smirked and watched as he walked away with a quick ‘thank you’ thrown over his shoulder towards us. When I turned back to Penelope, she looked at me with that teasing look she would only ever give me when she was about to give me shit. “What?” I asked.

“Nothing,” she sang, though her face said something else entirely.

I didn’t feel like getting into it. It wasn’t like I was going to see Spencer again. This was a one-time thing. Or at least, that was what I thought. It wasn’t until Penelope called me two weeks later with the same request. Even then I managed to stay somewhat professional around Spencer.

But they didn’t leave it at two times. At least five more cases, I was asked to help Penelope out on. It didn’t bother me, at all. In fact, I actually enjoyed helping the BAU team on their cases. It gave me the opportunity to work together with my very best friend as well as secretly flirt with the young doctor. And, you know, learn something new and everything.

Every time I saw him, I could just imagine him pushing me against a wall and kissing me senseless. Every brush of the arm, every longing gaze we directed to one another. It all drove me completely insane, but there was not much I could do about it but sit back and act as professional as I possibly could.

When we finished case number five, I was packing up my stuff and exited Penelope’s lair. My mind was still racing with the images I had seen about this gruesome case, but all of it seemingly cleared up when my eyes landed on the person standing at the very end of the hallway.

“Oh, hi, Spencer,” I greeted with a smile as I approached him.

He offered me that same knee-buckling smile. “Hi, y/n. I wanted to-uh, I wanted to check up on you. See if you were doing all right?”

I wanted to push him against the wall and kiss his jaw. That man was the most considerate person alive and it was absolutely turning me on. Coughing, I recomposed myself. I couldn’t act upon these feelings building inside of me.

“I am,” I said. “Though, I got to admit, this last case was a whole lot more brutal than the previous ones I helped on. It’s gonna haunt me for days.” I let out a chuckle, taking my eyes off him for a second.

Spencer hummed. “Yeah, it, uh, it takes a while to get used to it.”

“Do you ever get used to that?”

Chuckling, Spencer shook his head. “No, not really…”

A chuckle rolled off my lips too and for a moment, the two of us fell silent. It was a comfortable silence with the two of us just gazing into each other’s eyes as if we were under a spell. I knew that if I didn’t break eye contact, I would actually kiss him.

“I, uh, I’m gonna go home,” I told him and finally tore my gaze off him.

“Right,” he mumbled and turned towards the elevator. “You-uh, you want me to walk you to your car?”

Eyes widening, I almost immediately let out a sharp, “No!” The moment he and I would’ve stepped out together, I would’ve jumped his bones. I coughed to recompose myself again. “No, I’m okay,” I repeated, softer this time.

“Oh, okay,” Spencer nodded and stepped aside. “Well, I’ll, uh… I’ll see you another time then?”

I offered him a smile. “Yeah, see you next time.”

From the second I left the BAU, Spencer occupied my mind for the foreseeable future. Every corner I turned, every meal I had, every day I worked at my regular day job at the Capitol,... Spencer had taken over my mind and every fiber of my being.

It had been a good week since I had last seen the BAU team, since I had last spoken to Spencer. I couldn’t focus at all. He was all I could think about to the point where I couldn’t even properly function. I had to do something about it. Even if it was just getting that feeling of frustration off my chest.

That was why I had marched my way over to the BAU, went through the protocol at FBI security and clipped on my Visitor’s badge before trudging down to Penelope’s lair where I burst through the door without even knocking. She had given me the code to get in, so I didn’t have to knock.

“Y/N? What are you–”

I ignored her and plopped down on the sofa with a groan. “I don’t know what to do anymore, Penny,” I told her defeatedly, resting my head back against the back of the sofa and looking up at the ceiling.

“About what?” she asked.

“Spencer, of course.” I didn’t catch Penelope’s wide-eyed look as I continued my tirade. “Unfortunately, I need him in a way that will defy the laws of space and time and set feminism back seventy years.” Rubbing my hands over my face, I rolled my head back to look at my best friend, who hadn’t given her unsolicited opinion immediately like she always did.

That was when I saw the look of horror on her face. “Sugar plum,” she started, “Don’t be mad but…” My eyes landed on the device with the blinking red light behind her. She had been on a call and I could all but guess who was on that call.

“No,” I muttered, my heart plummeting to my stomach and my cheeks heating up in embarrassment. “Don’t tell me –”

Penelope pressed a button, putting her coworkers on speaker rather than through her headset. All I could hear was Derek’s and Emily’s giggles. “Wow, y/n,” came JJ’s voice, a bemused lilt in her tone. “I did not expect that coming from you.”

I squeezed my eyes shut before rushing forward and pressing what I thought to be the mute button. “Why didn’t you mute us as soon as I came in?” I asked before starting to pace the length of the room, but didn’t give Penelope the chance to answer. “Now everyone knows and to make it all worse – Spencer now knows.”

“Oh, mama, it’s not like we didn’t already know,” came Morgan’s voice through hiccups of laughter.

“PENELOPE!” I screeched, realizing I hadn’t pressed the right button.

With a simple shrug, Penelope turned to me. “Maybe it’s not so bad?” she tried and I just groaned in frustration before turning on my heel and leaving her lair. Now I had to debate whether to wait for Spencer to come back and explain everything to him or to just go home and never show my face here again.

There wasn’t much of a chance for me to think about it because the team quickly filed back into the offices. As soon as my eyes landed on Spencer, I froze. Our eyes met and I could tell he wanted to tell me something, but there was a serial bomber to catch. Rather than leaving and going home, I decided to stick around and help Penelope.

But before I could head over to Penelope’s lair, it was impossible to avoid the other’s relentless comments. Through a sea of giggles and quoting of what I had said to Penelope in confidence, I made my way through the bullpen, rolling my eyes.

“I’m gonna get a cup of tea,” I told Penelope, getting up from my seat in her lair. “You want one?”

“Yes, please, sugar,” she answered without taking her eyes off her screen.

With a chuckle, I left the office and made my way to the break room where I put on the kettle for two cups of tea. While I busied myself picking out a flavor, my mind drifted off to what I could possibly say to Spencer if I ever got the chance.

“Oh,” I heard the mumble behind me and when I turned around, I found Spencer in the doorway. “Hi.” He smiled a little awkwardly before making his way to the coffee pot.

I returned the gesture. “Hi.”

My eyes were trained on him while he poured the coffee and scribbled something down on a notepad beside him. My mind filtered through every possible word combination possible. I was so distracted, the click of the kettle turning off startled me.

As I poured the hot water into two cups, Spencer placed a folded piece of paper in front of me on the counter and scurried away before I could possibly react. Curiosity rising within me, I unfolded the piece of paper, only to find “Meet me tonight” written in his scrawny handwriting.

“That’s not vague at all,” I scoffed before pocketing it and continuing making the tea. Once the teabags were in, I made my way back to Penelope’s office, but not without one last glance at Spencer in the bullpen. Together with Derek and Emily, he was bent over a file on Emily’s desk.

He seemingly felt my eyes on him as he, too, looked at me. Feeling my cheeks heat up underneath his gaze, I quickly looked away and rushed towards my best friend. I leaned my back against the door as soon as I shut it, trying to catch my breath.

“What’s gotten into you, pumpkin?” Penelope asked when she saw the state of me.

I chuckled and rolled my eyes, annoyed at myself that I let a man make me feel this way. “Not Spencer, unfortunately.” My best friend let out a loud cackle. “He gave me this note–” I placed her octopus mug in front of her before handing her the note.

“That’s vague,” she mumbled, her brows furrowed.

“Exactly what I thought,” I grumbled. “He was gone before I could even ask.”

Penelope tsked before patting the chair that had been mine for the last couple of weeks. With a sigh, I plopped down carefully so as to not spill my hot tea. For the next hour, I tried to focus on the case more than on Spencer and what I was going to say to him.

However, it was hard not to think about him.

So, once the case was wrapped up, I packed up my stuff and went out to the hall where Spencer had waited for me merely a week ago. I didn’t even bother to say goodbye to Penelope as I would be seeing her soon anyway and she knew I had to do what I had to do.

It took a couple of minutes before Spencer walked out of the bullpen, eyes focused on the phone in his hand.

“‘Meet me tonight’?” I asked, capturing his attention. His honey eyes met mine, his lips twitching into a smile. “Could you be any more vague?”

“Sorry,” he chuckled and chucked his phone into his pocket again. “I just–” he sighed, unable to finish his sentence. Another soft laugh rolled off his lips as he looked down to the squeaky-clean floor of the FBI Headquarters. He looked back up at me, his eyes tender and searching for something I didn’t even know.

“What?”

Not even bothering to answer my question, Spencer grabbed my hand and tugged me into the closest room, which happened to be the family room. As soon as the door was shut, he pushed me against the wall by kissing me, his hands on my hips to hold me in place.

“Does this set feminism back seventy years?” he asked between kisses to my lips and jaw.

My toes curled and my stomach fluttered. This was all I had been dreaming of ever since I met him that first day. I had wanted him flush against me, fingers tangling up in my hair and his tongue warm against mine.

“No,” I breathed while he worked his way down my neck in open-mouthed kisses. “But it does defy the laws of space and time.”

The words seemingly set something animalistically off in Spencer as his kisses became hungrier and his hands roamed my body in ways I had never been touched before. He gave me enough to brag to Penelope about the next day.

He gave me everything I had been dreaming of.

Everything taglist: @calamitykaty@littlemissaddict @n0wornever @wanniiieeeee @unnowhatthisistbhbh

Criminal Minds Taglist: @boimlers-gonna-boim @samsbirks@tinaasthings @dysphoricsanity @love4lando @elenamoncada-ibarra @r-3dlips @magstheslayer @astess

#spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid x fem!reader #spencer reid imagine #spencer reid fluff #criminal minds

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yougavemeyourheartyouknow · 6 months

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Love me or hate me, both are in my favor. (Miguel O’Hara x Fem! Reader [HS Academic rivals AU])

Babe wake up, new series just dropped! This is not proofread btw

(Y/N)-Your name.

Cursing, Miguel being jealous? (If you squint), i am mexican but my Spanish sucks so apologies I’m advance, Phantom of the Opera spoilers (???? Through I’d throw it out there)

Word count: 3k

Series Masterlist Series playlist

Chapter 1:The world was on fire

—

“Love me or hate me, Both are in my favor. If you love me, I’ll always be in your heart. If you hate me, I’ll always be in your mind.”

The quote was etched into the front of your red hardcover notebook, with gold details covering the edges of the front. The black ink was oddly neat despite how deep you had to indent the words over and over on the cover. Miguel has noticed that you would always write a beautifully tragic quote on the front of all your English notebooks every year.

Last year, the quote was, “Love is blind, and lovers cannot see.”

For sophomore year, “She could have been a poet or she could have been a fool.”

And for freshman year it was, “‘I miss her.’ ‘You’re dead.’ ‘Even in death, I mourn her.’”

The first time Miguel saw it was when you both were in the 7th grade, being paired up to write a report about some random novel that Miguel couldn’t remember the name of. You had pulled out your notebook, that year it was a dark forest green, with the quote being, “But just because I’m not going to wish for it doesn't mean the moth can ignore the flame. It’s in the moth's blood.”

Miguel’s dark maroon eyes rolled to the back of his head, it was almost pretentious he thought, a way to show off how “artsy” you are. He allowed a scoff to escape his plump lips, you simply ignored him as you began to flip through your notes.

You were much more into history, the arts and most of all, Literature, while Miguel was more into science and math. Miguel didn’t understand why you loved it so much, he didn’t think your favorite subjects were nearly as important as his. Who cares what some dead poet wrote a thousand years ago, when he could be the next to make a big scientific discovery? Like time travel or curing cancer. Sure, Miguel still did the work in english and history, and for someone who didn't care for it, he would always do so well, and that drove you up the wall, but Miguel could say the same about you with math and science. Miguel would always tune you out when you would ramble on about some new book you were reading to your friends, or would ignore the way your eyebrow would furrow together and your teeth would bite down on your lips when you’d get to a particularly good spot in your novel, stopping every once and a while to annotate, would scoff at the the way your eyes would stare at piece of art with such fascination and wonder when the class would go to a field trip to an art museum, groan at how’d you always talk about the beauty of old gothic architecture, talking about how the beauty of the buildings was almost tragic.

The key word, would.

As you two grew older, and your competitiveness in your grades became more intense, Miguel couldn’t help but start to wonder what goes through that pretty little head of yours. He wanted to see how the deep corners of your mind worked. What made your brain tick, maybe if he saw the world through your perspective, he would understand you more.

Your manicured hand grabbed your notebook by the bloody red spine, gently gripping it before placing it into your bag, and zipping it up. Slinging it over your shoulder as you turn to talk to your friend who sat next to you, before you both made your way out of the AP English classroom.

You and Miguel had been attending the same classes since you transferred in the 6th grade, both of you attend one of Nueva York’s most prestigious and high-end boarding schools. At first, Miguel didn’t pay you any mind, figured you were just another spoiled brat with daddy’s money, and a trust fund big enough to last you until you find some poor unsuspecting fool to ask for your hand and make you into a trophy wife, like most of the girls who attend the school. But it wasn’t until you had beat his score later that year on the mid-year school wide testing did you get his attention. He could remember it like it was yesterday, he was sitting in class with a near perfect score of 97% written on top of his test answer sheet, a self-satisfied smirk on his face as he slid the paper over to his left where Peter Parker had sat.

“I swear man, you’re like, a genius.” Peter grumbled to Miguel as he glanced at his friend’s paper, before at his own which had 78% written at the top. Peter’s hand went up to pat Miguel on the back, but before Miguel could reply, just bearly in earshot, he had heard an unfamiliar voice speak.

“Yeah I got a 99, I wasn’t expecting…” Miguel didn’t catch the rest, but the first part was enough for his whole body to feel hot all over, and make his stomach twist in discomfort. He felt like he was about to go into a state of shock, or rather he was already entering one. He’s never had someone top before, if felt like he was dreaming, well, maybe having a nightmare was a better way to describe it. He couldn’t remember how long he had sat at his desk afterwards, in a weird state of disassociation until Peter had pulled him back to reality. He swore to himself, after that moment he’d never let you top him again.

But that was a hard promise to keep. Because whether he'd like to admit it or not, you were good, always keeping him on his toes. You were almost like a breath of fresh air for him, albeit a painful one, like the first shallow breath after almost drowning. Before you , Miguel was growing content, growing bored, no other student was anywhere close to his GPA, even the second best at the time, he felt simply untouchable, but then you came along, and you changed everything for him.

At first, he saw you more as a pest, an annoying little fly that kept buzzing around no matter how many times he had tried to swat you away. Upon your first time formally meeting with Miguel, you were polite and civil, the kindest smile on your face as you stuck your hand out for him to shake as you introduced yourself to him. Miguel just glanced at your hand with a sour, unamused expression on his face, before his eyes wandered back up to your face and he just let out a noise that was a mix between a grunt and a scoff before turning and walking away, leaving you confused and a little bit hurt from his unfriendly and quite frankly rude actions, you decided to just brush it off, maybe he was having a bad day and wasn’t in a good mood. So a few days later you tried to approached him again in hopes for a better interaction, only for those hopes to get squashed when he basically told you to fuck off, rolling his eyes and ignoring your presence once again as he walked past you, “accidentally” shouldering you in the process. You decided to stop trying to be nice to him after that.

For about the first year since you transferred, you and Miguel simply pretended the other didn’t exist, neither would approach or interact with the other unless absolutely necessary, the only constant reminders of each other's presence was when one would beat the other during tests, report cards, etc. Eventually the plain out ignoring shifted to fleeting glares and glances, eye rolls and snarky remarks muttered under both of your breaths, both of yours already rocky relationship with each other becoming more and more intense and open as you both got older, neither finding the energy to even attempt to tolerate the others presence anymore. So now you and him were stuck in this repetitive circle with each other, but neither of you were doing anything to stop it.

—

“I’ve already told you Gabe, I’m not going to give you my notes from last year. Read the book like everyone else.” Miguel sighed, stuffing his free hand in his pocket, his other hand holding onto his backpack strap, walking to the housing building across the campus of Nueva York’s Preparatory Academy, where he and his younger brother shared a room.

“But Miggy!” Gabriel whined, his lips coming out in a pout, and Miguel’s nose scrunched in annoyance at both the nickname and the high-pitch tone of his brother's whine. “What’s the point of me being brothers with one of the top students at this school if I can’t steal your notes! Besides, I've tried and I just can’t get into it. Who would have thought that Frankenstein would be such a boring book, and don’t get me started on how the paragraphs are set up!”

“And that’s my problem because?” Miguel’s eyebrow quirked up, sending Gabriel an unamused look.

“Look Miguel, you might not get it from my point of view, but it’s very difficult for me, being your brother. From an academic standpoint I mean. The teachers expect me to have the same intelligence as you. I'm not stupid, don’t get me wrong, I’m just not on the same playing field as you. Also, I don’t like reading.” Gabriel shrugged.

“And what makes you think that I do?” Miguel retorted with an eyeroll, opening the glass doors to the housing building for his brother before stepping in himself and shutting the door behind him.

“Well didn't you get an A+ on your report about the book last year?”

“No. I got an A-.” Miguel grumbled, and after a moment, Gabriel’s expression perked up a bit, as if a light bulb had gone off in his head.

“Oh riiight, that one girl got an A+, what was her name again?” Gabriel said in an almost teasing tone, before throwing out various names at Miguel that were similar to yours, obvious bait to see if his brother would bite, and he did.

“It’s (Y/N).” Miguel corrected with a hash glare.

“Oh, right, right.” Gabriel’s lips went up in a slight smirk, his hands going into his pockets to fish out the keys to their shared dorm room. “Maybe I can ask her to help me, I mean she’s a bookworm, right?”

Miguel didn’t answer the question, not completely sure if it was rhetorical or not, choosing to stay silent as they finally stopped in front of their room.

“I could ask for her notes, maybe take her out for some coffee as a thank you.” Miguel’s face scrunched with annoyance at the implication, his brother knew how much you two disliked each other, and a more sound part of his mind was telling himself that his little brother was just pulling at his leg, but that didn’t stop him from the draggers he glared at Gabriel.

“Don’t even think about it. Hasta la mira mal a esa niña, y estás muerto. ¿Entiendes?” Miguel hissed, his voice dropping an octave with the threat. (If you even look at that girl wrong, you’re dead. Got it?”)

Despite his older brother’s threats, Gabriel’s smirk only turned into a wide grin, before he put his hands up as I sigh of surrender, his keys dangling with the motion before he unlocked the door, and walked into the room, Miguel following closing the door behind him.

—

“I don't understand anything about this, (Y/N).” Your friend, Mary Jane, or MJ for short, groaned as you both sat down in one of the school's many libraries, school supplies sprawled on top of the mahogany desk. It was fairly empty, today, but you both took space in one of the empty study rooms to keep from making too much of a disruption from anyone else who might go in, the repeated sound of rapid tapping of MJ’s mechanical pencil hitting the desk as you catch her biting her bottom lip in frustration.

“I know.” You giggled with a small smile, putting your hand on her forearm in an attempt to comfort her. You both have been at it for about 3 hours now, your English teacher had assigned everyone to write a 2,000 word essay about the book being read in class Romeo and Juliet. You’ve already read and watched the play a million times so you knew the back of your hand.

“Like I understand that, they fall and love and die and stuff, but all the jokes and the symbolism and stuff-“

“That’s why I’m here, MJ.” You grinned at your friend, and she just scoffed at you with a friendly smile, a smile you returned, before getting up from your seat with a small stretch. “I’ll be right back, I'm going to go stretch my legs.” You told her, which only got you a hum in response, before you slipped out of the small room. No matter how much time you’ve spent in this specific library, (it’s your favorite one) you’ll never get tired of the earth and wood-like tones that filled your senses whenever you would enter in the building, the four old walls always filled you with such warmth, they were like a second home for you. You let out a deep content exhale as your black Mary Jane heels tapping quietly against the old wooden tiles of the library floor. Mindlessly wandering with no real destination in mind, but making sure you don’t stray too far from the study room, it wasn’t difficult to lose your sense of direction in the make-shift corridors made from old bookshelves. You turn a corner without thinking, a hand goes up , gently brushing the spines of the books as you continue walking. What genre section were you in?

Your steps came to a halt, taking a step closer to the shelf as you grabbed the book your hand was resting on. Your lips came up in a soft small smile as you read the title of the book in your hands.

The phantom of the opera.

Oh how you loved the story, you’ve watched both the movie renditions and the stage version countless times, but you’ve read the novel more than you’ve watched all three combined, but your copy sadly got ruined when you dropped it in a puddle of water while on a walk, and haven’t had the time to get a new copy. Was it bad that if you were in Christine’s shoes, you would have picked Erik over Raoul?

Your fingertips opened the door, flipping the pages until you landed on the page you were looking for.

Hardly breathing, he went up to the dressing-room and, with his ear to the door to catch her reply, prepared to knock. But his hand dropped. He had heard a man's voice in the dressing-room, saying, in a curiously masterful tone:

"Christine, you must love me!"

And Christine's voice, infinitely sad and trembling, as though accompanied by tears, replied:

"How can you talk like that? When I sing only for you!"

Raoul leaned against the panel to ease his pain.

His heart, which had seemed gone-

“Why am I not surprised I’d find you here?” The sudden words interrupted your reading. You didn’t need to lift your eyes to know the source of the voice, the slight accent and the deadpan tone gave it away.

“Hello to you too, O’Hara.” You replied, your eyes not lifting, your hand flipping to the next page despite no longer reading the words on the pages anymore, you weren’t going to give Miguel the satisfaction of knowing he had your attention. The act didn’t last very long though when his finger went up to lift the book up to read the cover, your gaze going up to finally look up at him, a bored expression on your face, a tsk leaving his mouth when he realized what you were reading.

“What?” You question him, wanting to know what that reaction meant, you closed the book and put it back on the shelf.

“Nothing.”

“Tell me.”

His lips come up to a smug smirk.

“That you find that shit romantic.” He stated like he knew it was a fact, and you’d rather die than admit to him that you did, in fact, find it romantic. “Don’t act like you don’t, I can read you like a book. No pun intended.”

Your face came to a scowl, instead of entertaining him with a response, you crossed your arms and slightly leaned against the bookshelf behind you.

“What are you even doing here Miguel? You don’t even like reading.” He didn’t entertain your question with a response either, rather he just shrugged, and took a step closer, his hand going up to rest against the self, his hand was right next to your head.

“Do me a favor?” He asked, but his tone came out more like it was a suggestion rather than a request.

“Why would I do that?” You scoffed.

“Don’t make me beg, muñeca.” His tone dropped an octave. Despite the pet name, his voice was filled with nothing but coldness. (Doll)

“Don’t give me ideas.” You teased. Your lips twitched up slightly.

“If my brother comes to you and asks to take you out, go ahead and say no.” That certainly wasn’t what you were expecting him to say, but you slowly nodded your head regardless, deciding to not ask what his brother said to him that would make him come up to you about that. His hand came back down to his side as he took a step back “Good. How’s the essay coming?”

The sudden topic change you off guard a bit, but you quickly recovered, since it was something you’d both been more used to talking about, your studies.

“I’m almost done, I’ve mostly been just helping MJ with hers.” You explained, as you stood up straight again. “You?”

“Same, if it weren’t for Peter I probably would already be finished with it.”

“Don’t stress about it too much, O’Hara.”

“Oh, why not?”

You smiled.

“Because I'm gonna get a better grade on my paper anyways.”

—

Taglist: @famouscattale @oharasfilipinawife @mxltifxnd0m @loser-alert @homewreckingwreck @dumb-gemini12

#miguel o hara fanfic #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o'hara #spiderman 2099 x reader #astv miguel #astv spiderman 2099 #miguel o’hara au #academic rivals au #spiderman 2099 fanfic #miguel spiderverse #spiderman 2099 #atsv miguel #miguel x reader #love me or hate me fanfic

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scuttle-buttle · 1 month

Text

Co-Pilots

Nobody asked for this. I have the flu. I needed something nice to focus on and apparently this was it. Blame @lorna-d-m my partner in crime :) also kudos to winniemaywebber and sagesolscitcewrites because i def read all their stuff and was vibing it and the pet names and stuff sooo hard

Rated: 18+

Word Count: approx. 3k

Tags: MMF, fluff and reassurance, mentions of wartime ptsd, body confidence issues, mentions of having children, PiV sex, female receiving oral, male receiving oral, voyeurism, no stated use of contraception

A/N: Croz is referred to as Crosby, Harry, and Bing in this (so as not to confuse). And idk what rank Rosie is by this point so were just going with Major

✈️

The bright lights blinded you the first time you walked through New York City; tonight was no different. Flashes of neon whites, golds, blues, reds, lit up your path as you entered the lobby to the Ritz hotel. Your husband had made arrangements for you to meet him in the city much as he had a near 2 years ago during the height of the war. You wanted to meet him at the airport. Crosby insisted he find you at the hotel. And now, with Hitler defeated, he was on his way home. For good.

His phone call had startled you. Usually, you wrote him weekly, sometimes more if you felt lonesome. Harry’s letters were less frequent, but no less loving. Little Steve kept you more than busy most days, back home safe terrorizing your mother and father while you got some rest and relaxation with your Bing in the big city. The toddler was a shining light in your dark days. He had the same dark curls, the same downturned eyes as his father. A piece of your love that was yours no matter what the war brought - or took.

You’d nearly lost your footing when you heard his voice, gruff and mellow, across the line. Darlin’ it's me, he'd said, I'm coming home but I've got some business to finish in the city, meet me there. I'm bringing Rosie, you remember him yeah? Said he'll take us dancing at the best jazz spots. I love you Mrs. Crosby. See you soon.

Now you wait in the lobby for your love and his friend.

Minutes tick by as you wait. Maybe the plane was late? Maybe they had to meet somewhere after landing to debrief? Maybe there was a problem with the engine? Just as your maybes started to drown out the chatter and bustle around you a voice rang out.

“Well ho-ly mackerel, aren’t you a sight for sore eyes Mrs. Crosby.”

The sight of your husband had you dashing into his waiting arms. Tears streamed down your face as you kissed him senseless over and over and over. Crosby couldn’t contain his laughter at your reaction, nor did he bother hiding it when he wiped his eyes dry.

“I’ve missed you so much Bing.”

His forehead rested on yours. “God how I’ve missed you too, Darlin’.”

Over his shoulder you notice a taller man, stylish moustache and curls neatly gelled into place, attempting to avert his eyes and give your reunion privacy. You were struck by how attractive he was. “Bing?”

“Oh!” Harry takes a step back. “Darlin’ this is Robert Rosenthal - or Rosie as us boys like to call him.”

Rosie gives a toothy smile and holds out his hand for a firm shake; “so nice to meet you, Mrs. Crosby. Croz here has told me all about you.”

Giving your husband a raised eyebrow, you ask “all good things I hope?”

Both men chuckle. “Only the best, ma’am.”

The three of you settled into your rooms before deciding that a celebration was in order. Rosie commandeered the evening, promising only the best jazz New York had to offer. Drinks flowed, the band jived, and couples danced the night away.

Night after night, Rosie took you somewhere new. You’d split your time whirling the dancefloor between both your husband and his pilot friend, never satisfied until your feet ached. Harry claimed all the slow dances, nestled up close to your body. But Rosie? He got the fast-paced, jumping, hip swaying swing that Crosby claimed he couldn’t keep up with. Two left feet, he’d claim. Each morning after you slept in the plush, luxurious Ritz bed until lunchtime while they attended to their military duties.

Friday rolled around. It had been a week of this routine. You should’ve been exhausted, you should’ve wanted to slow down - after all you were no spring chicken anymore. Yet, something about being in the arms of your husband and Rosie as you swayed to Duke Ellington, Benny Goodman, and Glen Miller felt so right.

When the barkeep yelled for “last call” you knew it was time to retire for the evening.

“Say, why don’t you come have a nightcap in our room, Rosie? Crosby asked.

The three of you settle into the living room of the suite assigned to you and your husband. Bing plops into an armchair with a satisfied huff. You join Rosenthal on the loveseat, a respectable distance inbetween. A bottle of whisky sits open on the fireplace mantle. Conversation comes and goes as the trio fall from the high of the night. It’s easy. Almost makes the boys forget the horrors they endured in Europe.

Around 1am the conversation begins to lull as you finish regaling the group with a story of the shenanigans you and your girlfriends would get up to during university days. “-You think you boys were bad flying all around in your skivvies, but it was nothing compared to us girls that night!” Laughter filled the room until all had let it trickle to a close; the silence was warm like the fireplace embers. Robert sat enraptured by your story, by your beauty, by the thought of you under that blue dress and all your curves. He knew he shouldn’t have noticed…..he was just a man after all. And with the things he’d seen? Could you really blame him?

“How long’s it been Rosie?” The question broke the man’s gaze from you and directed it towards Crosby. He didn’t know it was so obvious.

Rosie was about to stumble out an answer, an apology for looking at you like that, he doesn’t know, when Croz interrupts again. “When’s the last time you felt the touch of a good woman, Rosie?” Harry waits for an answer. Rosenthal can feel his face heat; he runs his fingers through his hair mussing the curls out of place. This confident Crosby was much bolder than the one he’d met when he first shipped out to the 100th. “Before the war?” There is no judgment in his eyes, no disdain or hesitation towards his comrade as he asks. Rosie shakes his head in affirmation. His glass clinks against the table as he sets it down, whisky unfinished.

Crosby sighs. “Too long.”

“Too damn long…” Rosie agrees in a mumble.

You sit and watch the boys in rapt attention before meeting Bing's chocolatey eyes. Rosenthal is a good man, a great one from what your husband’s letters proved, and he deserves kindness and softness after all he’s been through. They both do. A delicate hand moves to rest on Rosie’s knee where he sits next to you. His brow furrows. The Major flits his gaze between you and your husband.

In all seriousness Crosby says “It’s alright, I don’t mind.” He tilts his head forward in permission, a silent go ahead.

The navigator noticed how Rosie looked at you all night, how you returned the glances like a game of chicken. Each admiring but neither willing to do anything about it. How the two of you danced around the club without a care in the world at his insistence. He hadn’t seen Rosie smile like that in ages. He knew you hadn’t laughed like that since before he announced he was heading to the front. You definitely were reveling in the attention of both men tonight. This was never something you had discussed with your husband; somehow you just knew each other well enough even after so long apart to know that it was okay. It was something you both wanted.

Your fingers drifted higher on Rosie’s thigh; not enough to be indecent, but enough to get the message across. His larger palm came to rest atop yours, stopping the movement. “You uh- you’re okay with this?” the Brooklyn native questioned.

Without hesitation you reassure “I am.”

In a measured, almost odd approach Rosenthal shifts towards you. His lips hover over your cheek for a moment before the softest kiss brushes your skin. The whiskers of his mustache tickle. You can’t help the grin that threatens to break. He continues to kiss along your cheek, once, twice, thrice, each getting closer to your waiting lips. Finally, his chapped lips meet yours. This kiss is awkward at first as he gathers his bearing, quickly finding a rhythm as if no time had passed since he last kissed a pretty dame.

Crosby sunk deeper into his chair as he watched. He could feel the tell-tale sign of his slacks becoming tighter as he watched his best girl and his best friend. “She loves it when you kiss her neck,” he instructed with that smirk of his. Rosie dragged his lips to your throat. “Little lower-” again he shifted “-right there.” A moan slipped from your parted lips as your body warred with the directions from your husband and the attentions from your lover.

The room felt stifling. Rosie’s coat, your dress, his shirt, your stockings, his trousers, your brassiere - each fluttered off to the floor one by one. Even Bing had lost his button down.

The Major guided you onto your back along the couch, trailing open mouthed kisses down your sternum, along your breasts. A moment of clarity passed your mind that your body was different now than the last time you had been made love to, whether by your husband or not, since the baby. Your breasts weren't as pert, your stomach was softer than it used to be. Lips pursed, you let out a small sigh.

“What’s wrong darlin’?” Bing asked. The navigator leaned towards you, brushing a strand of fallen hair from your face. “You know I can read you better than any map.” Rosie stopped and rested his chin on your abdomen to look up.

“We can stop,” Rosie offered.

“No, It’s silly…” you tried to brush off.

Both men came to your defense immediately. Looking between the two you finally settle on your husband’s face. “It’s just that… since the last time we saw each other I’m different. My body changed and- I don’t know. I want it to be enough for you. For you both,” you add with a look to Rosie.

Crosby drops from the chair to his knees before you. “My pretty girl.” He kisses you slowly. “We’ve all changed.” From below Rosie adds nothing is the same. “You are still the most beautiful, most incredible, woman I’ve ever seen. Gosh - you’re my wife. Mrs. Crosby! I would fight to the ends of the earth to come home to you.” Softer he adds “I did fight to come home to you… and to bring this flak-happy bastard along too,” he laughed, nudging his elbow at his mate. “Now be a good girl and let us treat you right.” At your nod Rosie resumes his ascent down your waiting body.

With a flourish your panties are gone, your dripping center exposed to his hungry stare. “What does she like, Croz? Because I'm not stopping until she comes begging all over my tongue.” He licks a deep stripe along your slit. “Sweet as sugar, babydoll.” Gone is the man unsure of himself, and in place is a god amongst men who knows exactly what he wants. It’s all you can do to hold on as Rosie devours you at your husband’s suggestions. Fingers dig into the cushions, tangle into his curls as you writhe under him.

Rosie puts in his best effort to undo you; your husband saunters up to your face, his pants long forgotten. Cock stiff and ready, dripping with need, he runs the tip of his thumb against your bottom lip. Your teeth nibble at the pad. “Think you can take me too, darlin’?” A whimpered please is all that comes out.

A cacophony of moans fills the air as your senses are assaulted - Rosie latched to your pussy like a lifeline and your Crosby’s cock deep inside your mouth. “That’s it darlin’, just like that. I bet you missed me, huh? I can tell you did, sweet girl. Fuck I missed you….”

You gave him everything you had as you licked and sucked at his length. You could have sworn it was bigger than you remembered. He could tell by the look in your eyes you were getting closer, hell he was too. Lord knew he didn’t want to finish like some schoolboy in your lovely mouth. Crosby pulled himself out and you gasped for air. Cheeks flushed and sweat dripping down your temple he turned to his partner. “Use your fingers Rose, drives her wild when you crook them up inside her ‘n don't be afraid to get rough - give her a nip.” He punctuated the end of his command with a nip of his own to your throat. Rosie did exactly as instructed, sending you careening further to the edge and hips bucking.

“Oh- please Rosie- oh god don’t stop-” tumbles out as you start to fall. You swear you feel him humming against your clit as his fingers burn pleasure into your skin.

“That’s it darlin’, just let go for him. Being such a good girl for us,” croons your Bing.

When it all gets too much you gently push him from you. He goes gracefully, dropping chaste kisses to your thighs and hips. Despite feeling like a bowl of jello you remember your purpose tonight - to give Rosie a proper homecoming.

Sitting up you demand he rid himself of his trousers.

He grins. “Yes ma’am.”

Just as Rosie goes to cover your body again you place your hand on his broad chest, pushing until he is in a sitting position. You quickly seat yourself over his lap, his length resting against you. Grinding down, he grunts. “Let me take care of you Rosie, it’s okay.” Kissing his temple, the corner of his mouth, his Adam's apple, you repeat “I want to take care of you dear, let me.”

With another roll of your hips he enters you. He feels different than your husband, but no less wonderful. Rosie’s hands land firmly on your hips as you rock above him. He knows he won't last long, you feel too good. “God Croz how do you do it? She’s so- ugh fuck” he grunts, head tossed back as you squeeze his length.

“I know, Rose, I know. Just like heaven.” Your husband rubs your back as you move.

Rosenthal buries his face in the crook of your neck, his whimpers muffled so that only you can hear. There are no words for him to describe this feeling: the feeling of being comforted, the feeling of warmth, the feeling of home inside you, even if just for tonight. He almost feels a tear spring to his eyes. Circling your arms around his shoulders you remind him that you’ve got him, that he’s safe, that you're here. You pick up the pace as you ride him, bringing him closer and closer to his fate. His pelvis bucks up to meet yours with every roll.

“Honey I- I’m getting real close.”

You seal your lips on his; “I’ve got you, Rosie. I want you to come for me dear.”

With a deep groan he lifts you off his cock, his spend covering your stomachs and lap in a sticky mess. You hold him as he comes down from his high.

“That was wonderful, thank you…just, thank you.” You kiss him once more; he knows he doesn’t have to thank you for anything, but he does because he’s Rosie. He carefully cleans you of his come with his discarded undershirt.

Crosby drops his lips to the crown of your head, beginning to pull the pins out of your carefully styled hair. “Come here, Darlin’.” He helps to lift you from his colleagues’ lap. “I wanna make love to my wife.”

In seconds you’re on the floor under Crosby, his cock already buried to the hilt within you. Neither of you move as you both enjoy the feel of each other reunited as husband and wife. Whispered streams of I love you and I missed you and fuck you feel so good tumble from your lips, barely an inch apart. Harry would never need a map to know the curves, the sensitive spots, the constellations of beauty marks on your body - he knew it better in his memory than any map he could chart.

Besides you on the couch Rosie has slumped over to lay down, his arm hanging off towards you. Every breath of your husband’s puffs against your neck, every tickle of hair from across his chest reminds you that he’s here and he’s alive and he’s yours. Emotion overwhelmed you; “Bing, love please, I need you.”

Crosby hitches your thigh up and around his hip; “I’m here Darlin’.” With that he starts to thrust within your walls. His lithe body moves with a power you had nearly forgotten. Each roll of his hips he pounds into you harder, faster, with abandon; his dog tags cool against your breasts where they hung. Harry was a gentle man, but held so much emotion inside. He could let go with you.

Your next orgasm was building, hotter and faster than the first. Nails raking down your husband’s back, you reached out your other to grab hold of Rosie’s outstretched palm. The slap of skin echoed around the room, mixed with the crackle of the fire and the sound of heaving breaths.

An inferno raged within you. Every touch, every movement atop you sent sparks down every nerve ending. You didn’t know where you stopped and your husband began. “Fuck Bing mmmm- Harry please-” The rug beneath you rubbed your back raw but you couldn’t bring yourself to care as long as he kept going.

Crosby had his thumb rubbing quick circles on your clit in an instant. “Tell me you’re close, I need you to come Darlin’.” You couldn’t catch your breath so you nodded the best you could while squeezing the life out of Rosie’s fingers.

Another snap of his hips and you’re gone, obliterated. Everything felt euphoric and white-hot. Crosby follows suit, his release filling you and your name on his tongue. Bruises will surely linger on your thighs.

There you lay, tangled in the afterglow, your loving husband above you stroking his knuckles against your side and your new lover’s hand in yours. No words needed to be spoken. The moment you shared would be seared into your mind forever playing on repeat. God forbid another crisis happened that would ship your boys out and away from you - yet if it did you would hold on to tonight like a talisman. It had been a long four years, and longer so for them. But the war was won, with spoils a plenty.

Finally.

Lips meeting your Bing’s sweat-slicked forehead, your grip on Rosenthal tightens. “Welcome home my boys, welcome home.”

Tags: @sagesolsticewrites @winniemaywebber @sailorscuttle @thirstyvampyr @hellfirequinnie @lorna-d-m

#masters of the air #mota #masters of the air fanfic #robert rosie rosenthal #harry crosby #harry crosby x reader wife x rosie rosenthal #rosie rosenthal smut #harry crosby smut #masters of the air smut #anthony boyle #nate mann #anthony boyle smut #nate mann smut #scuttle-buttle

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thyme-in-a-bubble · 1 year

Note

I am but a simple whore humbly requesting some frogging with a jealous frankie in a bathroom stall at a bar 😇 (I thought the gif might spark inspo or just rile you up like it did me)

congratulations on your milestone angel!!! you deserve it so much and I LOVE YOU MWAH 💘💋🫶🏻

a/n: honestly just how dare you plop this idea in my brain. how dare you. you know what you're doing... you know exactly what you're doing... like I don't fucking stop breathing every time I see him take off his belt..... ahhh I think I'm gonna pass out (also I never write smut with this little dirty talk, but that was just the vibe. needy, desperate, silent. at least the beginning, what I wrote... in my head they start screaming by the end)

word count: 887

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

masterlist | join my taglist | join my 3k celebration!

“Wow, Frank,” you protest as the bison of a man pushes you into the vacant bathroom, “what are you doing here?” pushing his strong hands off of you as the door slammed behind him.

“What am I-, what are you doing here?” he growled, towering over you.

Crossing your arms, you scoffed at his audacity, “I am allowed to go out and have a drink.”

Narrowing his dark eyes at you, he shook his head lightly and uttered, “you were not just having a drink. If you wanted just a drink, then you would have stayed at home.”

“And why would you care?” you sighed, completely over his bullshit, wanting so badly to just push passed him and return to your reckless plan of blowing off some steam and perhaps finally getting over the bastard standing in front of you right now.

His sturdy nose lightly twitched a second as his eyes drifted down your face, taking your breath away completely when he then unexpectedly reached out and pulled you into a fevered kiss. Reeling, a shuttering breath escaping your lungs as you eventually melted into the reality of what you had dreamed about for so long.

“Because,” he pulled back, hands still lingering in your hair, “I can’t stand the thought of someone else so much as looking at you.”

Instead of scrambling your brain for the right words to respond with, you simply let your body lead and yanked his head back down to capture his lips with your own once more. Soon your tongue was dancing across his as you clawed at each other's bodies in order to get closer to one another. Hands palming the curve of your ass through the thin material of your flowy, floral dress, you let out a breathy yelp as his greedy hands suddenly grew impatient and scooped you up, drawing you that much closer to his warm body.

Your lips jolted away from his as your back swiftly bumped into something, his stumbling feet haven carried you into one of the stalls. Letting your head rest back against the thin wall, you glanced down at Frank with hooded eyes as he slowly lowered you back down to your feet, letting his touch linger as he did so, gliding his warm palms down your sides and with his eyes locked on yours, gently fiddled with the hem of your dress.

Goosebumps visible on your tingling skin, your own fingers dug into the fabric at your sides as you slowly hitched it up for him. Your knees nearly buckled as you then saw him sink down onto the cold tile, kneeling before you as he helped you expose yourself to him.

Keeping his eyes on yours, his scratchy chin tickle your thigh as he began to slowly pepper pecks along your tender flesh and your body fell back against the stall completely. Running his wide palm up along your other leg, soon coming into contact with your underwear, you sucked in a needy breath as his broad thumb skimmed over the wet spot adorning the cotton, pressing down even more fiercely as your hips bucked in search of more.

Hooking his finger in the fabric as his pillowy lips neared your centre, your pulse impossibly clear in your needy pearl, he tugged your soaked panties to the side and let a desperate groan rumbly deep within his throat as he took in the sight of your glistening folds.

You clasped your hand over your lips as you felt his tongue began to swipe through your folds, nuzzling closer and bumping the bridge of his nose insistently against your clit as he sloppily made out with your pussy.

Sinking into the long-yearned-for sensation, gazing down at him in awe, your eyes then grew wide as the sound of the lavatory door opening suddenly found your ears. Freezing up, your knee swiftly bumped his shoulder, pushing him off of you as you clutched your palm even harder against your lips, the summery dress flowing back down around your thighs.

Not giving the boisterous audience a second thought, Frank simply slammed the stall’s door shut, twisted the lock and rose to his feet. Lower half of his face glossy with your desperation, breathless, he slumped back against the opposite wall and stared at you electrically.

Your shoulders bounced in a giggle, accompanying the light shake your head offered as you listened to the drunks' conversation and reeled in the ridiculousness of this whole situation you had stumbled into. But when you looked back into Frank’s espresso eyes, it all melted away and you realised just how much you wanted this. You wanted him so much that you didn’t care where it was or who heard. You just wanted him.

Your hand finally dropped from your lips as your eyes too lowered, nearly letting out a whimper as you gazed at the palpable tent in his dark jeans. Absentmindedly, still on the other side of the stall, your deprived hand reached out and grabbed at the air between you.

Catching your hand in his, your eyes briefly flickered up towards his, catching his cocky smirk before you glanced down again to see his free fingers begin to work at his leather belt, unhurriedly undoing the buckle as he gave your hand a squeeze.

#3k celebration #lea’s writing #frank castle smut #frank castle x reader #frank castle imagine #marvel smut #frank castle x you #frank castle x y/n #frank castle x female reader #frank castle x fem!reader #the punisher smut #frank castle x f!reader #frank castle fic #frank castle request #the punisher #the punisher fic #frank castle fanfiction #frank castle #the punisher x reader

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planetpiastri · 1 year

Note

also sending 13 with bob <33333 -allie

allie help i blacked out and somehow wrote almost 3k. what did u do to me. @spideystevie

13. meeting as the best friends/wingmen/chaperones of their two friends who want to go out together, but not alone

word count: 2.7k

“I can’t believe you actually convinced me to come along,” you muttered, propping your feet up on your best friend’s dashboard.

Rooster glanced sideways at you before going back to anxiously scanning the parking lot. “Me neither,” he admitted, “but I’m so glad you said yes.”

“Remind me of the plan one more time?” you asked.

He held up his fingers and began counting items off. “First, we meet up with Natasha at the Shake Shack.”

“We are at the Shake Shack,” you said.

“Yes. The three of us laugh and play nice for a bit, just to break the ice. Second—or maybe third?—you get up to use the restroom. I don’t know, make up some excuse.”

You rolled your eyes but let him keep going.

“Fourth—wait, or are we still on three?—anyways, fourth, while you’re gone I put the moves on Natasha, maybe invite her to officially do something one-on-one. Fifth, you come back and I’ll give you the signal. Remember the signal?”

You recited, “‘Ready to rock and roll?’ means it’s not going good and we have to go. ‘Living the good life’ means it’s going really well and I should buzz off. You picked such corny catchphrases, man.”

“But you remembered them!” Rooster considered things for a moment before adding another finger. “Sixth, seventh, whatever—profit.”

You hummed sarcastically and turned to look back out the window. It was winter, so it was already completely dark over the Shake Shack as you and Rooster waited for his definitely-not-a-date to show up. Other young people on awkward first outings, as well as large groups of friends, milled about on the open-air tables and greater parking lot, swapping ice cream and fries and having a generally great time. Rooster probably couldn’t have picked a better place to stage this “friendship coup” as he called it—in short, an attempt to get out of the friendzone with Natasha Trace.

You’d only met Natasha a handful of times, but you liked her. You weren’t sure how much you liked her for Bradley, but you also weren’t the type to meddle that deeply into your friend’s love life. And Rooster had been single now for nearly four long, painful years; you thought it would be good for him to get out of his head and get back in the dating game.

“Oh, shit, that’s her!” he hissed suddenly, swatting your arm. “Come on, let’s go!”

You quickly climbed out of the Bronco, following Rooster’s lead as he began to make his way towards the sleek Volkswagen that had just pulled into the lot. The headlights in the Volkswagen shut off and the driver’s side door opened to reveal Natasha, graceful and strong as ever. She broke into a smile as soon as she saw Rooster and leaned against the open frame of her door.

“Hey, Rooster,” she said before her eyes slipped past him and landed on you. They lit up with recognition. “Oh, hey!”

“Hi,” you said, feeling incredibly transparent and awkward.

“Oh, uh—they just wanted to come with, I started talking about Shake Shack and they were like, ‘oh my god, I want to go!’ So I hope that’s okay,” rambled Rooster.

You glared daggers at the back of Rooster’s head, but Natasha just laughed and nodded. “Yeah, no worries. I mean—I’d be kind of a hypocrite if I said no.”

Rooster laughed. “Haha, yeah—wait, what?”

Natasha bent down into the open door and said, “You can come out, you know.”

The passenger door to the Volkswagen swung open and a man stepped out, and you momentarily forgot that you were in the middle of drilling a hole in the back of Bradley’s head with your eyes.

He was tall and lean, with short blonde hair combed back out of his face. He was wearing glasses, but even in the dim light of the parking lot you could make out wide, blue eyes and a shy, kind expression on his face. He glanced nervously around the group: first at Natasha, then at Rooster, then back to Natasha, and then to you, where they stayed.

“This is Bob,” said Natasha. “I figured it’d be okay if he tagged along with us, too.”

Your mind had stuttered to a halt, but if there was one thing to be said about Rooster, he was quick on his feet. “Yeah, definitely! Nice to meet you, Bob. Hey, I just remembered I left my wallet in my car like an idiot.” He pinned you with a sharp look. “Can you come grab it with me?”

You only considered arguing for maybe half a second before tearing your eyes away from Bob and sighing, “Yeah, let’s go. Be right back, guys. Meet you at the shack?”

“Sounds good!” called Natasha as you and Rooster began to jog away.

Rooster yanked open the driver’s side door of the Bronco and bent over the seat for pure formalities, because he knew as well as you did that the outline of his brown leather wallet was prominent and very obvious in his back pocket.

“She brought one too!” he hissed at the gas pedal.

You looked up at the sky, asking anyone listening to please, please, send you help. Then you said, “So?”

“So that throws a bit of a spanner in the works!”

“Does it?”

He straightened up, waving a pad of brown napkins in your direction. “Yes! Is that her way of telling me this is a strictly-friends situation? Is Bob my competition? What message am I meant to receive here?”

“Maybe the message that she felt the same way that you did about this little hang-out and brought along a safety net?” you offered. “Please stop waving those napkins at me, Bradley.”

“Right, sorry.” He tossed them into the backseat, where they scattered like confetti, and you fought back a shiver of disgust. “So what do I do?”

You cocked your head at him. “I don’t know, Rooster. Maybe…go hang out with her? And stop stalling at your car?”

Rooster blinked. “Fuck. You’re right. Let’s roll out.”

When you arrived at the front counter, Bob and Natasha still hadn’t ordered. They were standing shoulder to shoulder, staring up at the menu, and you took a moment to try and decipher their body language: her arms were folded, his loose and relaxed; she would periodically tap her hip against his, less in a manner that tried to get his attention and more out of casual familiarity; when they spoke to each other, they didn’t turn their heads, just spoke out of the sides of their mouths and trusted the other to catch it.

In all honesty, they reminded you a lot of you and Bradley. The thought made you feel strangely…relieved, but you couldn’t figure out why exactly.

Bob noticed you and Rooster first, turning and smiling. He met your eyes, but then looked away just as quickly.

“Hi,” you said, stepping up next to him and introducing yourself. “Sorry about before. I swear, he’d lose his head if it wasn’t screwed on.”

“Yeah, I’ve gathered,” chuckled Bob before blinking. “Oh, I just mean—Natasha’s told me—I’ve heard that Bradley can be—”

“You’re good,” you interrupted swiftly. “I love him, but he’s an idiot.”

Bob smiled that quick, nervous smile again before turning back to the menu board. “Okay. Do you know what you’re gonna get?”

You nodded. “They do a killer float here.”

Bob glanced at you in surprise. “You don’t get shakes at the Shake Shack?”

“You do?” you countered.

“Yes,” he said. “It’s a Shake Shack.”

You found yourself laughing. “Okay then, wise guy, educate me!”

“I’m gonna change your life,” promised Bob, stepping up to the counter and ordering two peanut-butter fudge milkshakes. When you tried to pull out your own wallet, he put out a hand to stop you.

“I’m perfectly capable—” you started.

“Please. What kind of teacher would I be if I made my student pay for their own school supplies?”

You snorted with laughter, turning to share an amused look with Rooster before realizing in a panic that you’d been so caught up talking with Bob that you’d lost track of both Natasha and Rooster. You swore under your breath, stepping away from the counter and looking back and forth for where they’d gone. He’d asked you to be his wingman because he was nervous, and you’d already messed it up!

Bob stepped up next to you, two milkshakes in hand. “Hey, you okay?” he asked.

“Where’d they go?” you asked, still looking around the patio and the parking lot.

Bob slurped loudly at one of the shakes for a moment before saying, “She said something about stealing him away to play mini golf across the street. Must be what happened.”

You whirled around to face him. “You guys had a game plan?”

His cheeks colored and he didn’t meet your eyes. “Yeah. She was nervous. That’s why I’m here.” He squinted at you. “Did you guys have a game plan?”

You bit your lip, realizing you’d been caught. “Yes,” you said softly.

“There we go, then,” said Bob, holding out the second shake. “Even Stevens.”

You took it from him and worked your straw up and down, trying to mix it. “Well, then what are we supposed to do while they play mini golf?”

Bob did meet your eyes then, fixating you in place with that impressive cobalt stare. You felt your breath hitch in your throat and a warm flush began to spread out from your throat. You hoped against hope he couldn’t tell in the darkness.

Bob said, “Wait for them to get back, I guess.”

You led the way back to Rooster’s car, where you retrieved the spare key that only you knew about from its spot in the front wheel well. You and Bob worked together to lower the small tailgate of the Bronco, and then Bob helped lift you up onto it. You both sat there, hip to hip: you, swinging your legs over the empty space; him, keeping his calmingly still.

“I can’t believe they ditched us,” you said around the straw wedged between your lips.

Bob moved his straw up and down, just like you’d done before. You tried not to stare at his hands. He said, “I don’t know. This was kind of best-case-scenario for how tonight could have gone.” He smiled. “Imagine the four of us wedged in a cramped diner booth, watching both of them fail to flirt.”

“Ugh, good point,” you said. “Not that it’s any of my business, but—you and Natasha? Just friends, then? She’s here for Bradley?”

Bob made a strangled noise, somewhere between a snort and a raspberry. “No,” he said. “Just friends. We’ve known each other since we were kids.”

You took another sip of your shake before setting it down behind you. “I don’t know, that can be kind of romantic sometimes.”

“Natasha and I are not romantically engaged,” he said, enunciating clearly. “She’s here because she wants to see how things go with Bradley.” He paused. “Besides, I’ve heard stories—how do I know you and him aren’t secretly pining for each other?”

You pretended to gag. “Ew, no thanks. He’s practically my brother.”

“See, it’s weird!” laughed Bob. “You’re not allowed to make fun of me!”

“I’m not!” you laughed back. “You made your point. I’m sorry.”

You both smiled, a comfortable silence falling over the backseat of the Bronco. The nerves of the night were starting to wear off, and you found yourself shivering in the cool winter air. When you reached behind you to grab the blanket Rooster kept stashed in the back seat, Bob helped wrap it tight around your shoulders, rubbing his hands up and down your arms.

“Thanks,” you said, trying to fight back that shy flush of warmth that threatened to overtake you again.

A few more minutes of quiet stretched out in front of the two of you, and you finally sighed, buzzing your lips and trying to fill the silence. “Now what?” you asked, starting to swing your legs again.

“How do you know Bradley?” Bob asked, leaning back and resting his head against the back of the headrest.

You turned, arching an eyebrow. “Twenty questions? Really?”

He laughed. “If you’ve got other ideas on how to kill time, I’m all ears.”

You rolled your eyes again, turning to face forward and letting an amused giggle escape your lips. “Okay, fine. But that’s not how twenty questions works. You have to work up to the deep shit.”

Bob pulled one leg up onto the tailgate, lacing his fingers around his knee. “Okay, wise one,” he teased. “Educate me, then. You go first.”

“What’s your favorite color?”

“Seven. How do you know Bradley?”

You burst out laughing, grabbing onto his arm to keep yourself upright as he snickered, obviously pleased with himself. When Rooster and Natasha came back, you were both still giggling, but over a different twenty-questions-inspired joke. You didn’t even know how much time had passed—apparently enough for at least one game of mini golf to be completely finished.

“You guys look like you’re having fun,” said Natasha with a smile.

“Hey, guys,” you said. “How was mini golf?”

“Good,” said Rooster, swapping a look with Natasha. “Fun. I lost.”

“No surprise, there,” you teased, and Bob chuckled.

Rooster lifted his eyebrows at you. “Thanks for that. You ready to head out?”

You sat up quickly, letting the blanket fall away from your shoulders. “Oh, yeah, sure. We can head out. Is this a rock-and-roll situation?”

Rooster shook his head but didn’t say anything, so you figured he was withholding a lot of things that he wanted your opinion on. You stifled a sigh and shifted off of the Bronco, stretching your legs as Bob stood up next to you. As he shuffled closer to Natasha—presumably to ask how her date was—you leaned back into the cab and grabbed your mostly-full milkshake, holding it out to Bob.

When he took it, his brow furrowed in confusion and he reached up to adjust his glasses. “You didn’t have any?”

“I had a couple sips,” you said defensively. “You can finish it.”

“But—you—I—”

You grimaced and whispered, “I don’t like peanut butter in my milkshakes. But I can pay you back!”

“This is the most embarrassing moment of my life,” said Bob, and you were only half-sure he was being sarcastic. “Don’t worry about the money. We’ll just have to come back and get floats next time.”

As soon as he realized what he’d said, his whole face lit up bright pink. You saw Natasha and Rooster’s eyebrows fly into their hairlines at the same time. You grinned, unable to stop the quiet laugh that bubbled out of you as you nodded and said, “Yeah, I guess we will. I’ll see you around, Bob.”

“See you,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck and wincing as he and Natasha began to slowly make their way back to her Volkswagen. She grabbed his sleeve, giving him a firm and teasing shake, and you grinned at the sight before turning and closing the tailgate back up and moving to the passenger seat.

“So,” you said as Rooster turned the key in the ignition, “how was it?”

He made a ‘kaputz’ gesture with his hand and blew a raspberry.

Your face fell. “Oh no. What happened?”

“Nothing happened,” he explained, turning and backing out of his parking spot. “I guess that’s kind of why it’s a no-go. I think we’re just better as friends. And I think I’m actually okay with that.”

You smiled and nudged him on the arm when he paused to shift gears. “I’m proud of you, Bradshaw.”

He scoffed and shook his head. You sat back in your seat, prepared for a nice, quiet drive home, when Rooster suddenly leaned across the center console, shoving his face into your personal space. “How was your night, hmm?”

“Oh my god, go away, you freak!” you giggled, shoving at him. “None of your business!”

He sat up and pulled out of the parking lot, laughing and sending you a knowing look that made you want to explode. “The truth will out,” he said, “and by that I mean I’m gonna text Natasha later and get all the details. So which side of the story do you want me to hear?”

“His,” you said. “Definitely his.”

Rooster laughed again and you kicked your feet back up on his dashboard, pressing your knuckles to your mouth as you turned to look out the window. A pleased, heady fog had settled over your brain, and you felt like giggling for no real reason at all. The night had no more biting chill left, and your fingers smelled like chocolate and peanut butter.

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob x reader #robert bob floyd x you #robert bob floyd x reader #top gun maverick #bob floyd fic #bob floyd fanfic #bob floyd fluff #top gun maverick fanfiction #bob floyd imagine #bob floyd blurb #vinny fics #natasha trace #bradley bradshaw

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you-remind-me-of-the-babe · 4 months

Text

Another lovely year in this wonderful fandom. Here’s a little recap of how my year went:

My Writing:

Depth of Reason - Mature - 70k

How to Avoid a Scandal - Teen - 43k

Episode 3: The Diplomat, A Star Trek Redemption story - Teen - 13.5k

This list is much shorter than my list of fics written in 2022, but my fics last year were much shorter. Also, this word count is deceptive, because I wrote about 22k of Depth of Reason last year and about 20k of How to Avoid a Scandal last year as well. But! My writing goals this year were to finish these two WIPs and not take on any other projects until they were finished and I very nearly did that! Took on two projects (and more below), but I still finished these before the year finished, so pretty good!

Total words:

About 83k. Last year was more like 120k.

Other works:

Podfic of Petrichor - Teen - 34 minutes

Themes:

Finishing long works apparently! One was for my 2022 COBB and the other for my 2022 CORB. Even though these were started last year, they are the longest things I wrote since my first fic (49k) back in the second half of 2021.

Also, trying new things! Writing sci-if and recording a podfic felt very outside my wheelhouse at the time, but ultimately, I’m glad I went for it.

Top 10 fics I read in 2023:

Someone Wicked - Explicit - 60k by @artsyunderstudy

Three Months or 3,000 Miles - Gen - 3k by @larkral and art by @theimpossibledemon

Blood, Salt and Hummingbirds - Teen - 32k by @hushed-chorus

Restoration Ecology - The REmix (Baz’s version) - Explicit - 62k by @royalasstronaut

Good at Something - Explicit - 19k by @larkral

A Gift From the Propheseals - Mature - 6.5k by @skeedelvee with art by @letraspal

What Remains After the Storm - Mature - 86k by @hushed-chorus art by @erzbethluna

To Do, to Know, to Want - Mature - 8.5k by @facewithoutheart

Mishaps on Zoom - Explicit - 10k by @eelwinks

Swords Into Plowshares - Teen - 6.5k by @ileadacharmedlife

WIPs I’m excited to keep reading in 2024:

I Knew A Boy, I Knew A Man - Teen, by @shrekgogurt

Hiding Out In The Open - Mature, by @cutestkilla

A Little Bit Deadly- Explicit, by @emeryhall

Basil Pitch’s Diary - Teen, by @bookish-bogwitch

Other notable fandom things:

I helped to run @carryon-reverse-bang again with @angelsfalling16 as well as helped to put on a new event this year, @caught-on-tape-fest with @cutestkilla and @sillyunicorn

I met up with fandom friends while on a trip this past summer. Making personalized friendship bracelets as gifts, doing fic readings and crafts, and putting on our own Lady Ruth style tea party were some of my fave moments <3

I did a book club style reread of some of my fave fics with friends. I hope we do a few more in 2024!

It’s safe to say I engaged with this fandom everyday of 2023. I might get quiet on the main Discord server or Tumblr, but I’m certain I read, reblogged, wrote, DMd or otherwise participated in some way, shape or form throughout the entirety of the year.

Goals for 2024:

Read more fic! This fandom has such a wealth of works, my TBR list is a mile long and isn’t organized. I’d like to formally rework my AO3 bookmarks to exclusively show recs and either utilize the Marked for Later function or make a spreadsheet or something to better organize a proper TBR list so i don’t lose track of what I want to read next. Currently, having a dozen tabs open on my phone and another dozen on my iPad doesn’t really work well. If anyone has a brilliant system you’d suggest, please enlighten me!

I also want to read all of my physical canon books this year. I’ve only ever listened to the audiobooks! I’m currently reading my anniversary edition of Fangirl. (I think this is the prettiest book I’ve ever owned.) Up next, the Fangirl Manga, followed by the trilogy and Snow for Christmas.

More fandom meet ups! Already planning for June…

I don’t have any writing plans currently, so we shall see if/what I decide to create. I have a few ideas rolling around in my head, but nothing I’ve felt urged to put down in words. I’m sure I’ll write something, I just don’t know what it’ll be yet.

#That’s a wrap!#Love being a part of this fandom #Y’all are wonderful #here’s to another great year!#fandom year in review

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uchihaharlot · 3 months

Note

CEO! AU Where their employee is too naive about innuendo 😅

Too pure and these guys wreck her during a personal "meeting" in their office.

(Separate scenarios please 🙏)

Me dearest moot,

I apologize this took me so long. 😅 I find it hard to write ooc scenes, but then again everything written outside the Narutoverse is considered ooc. So I just rolled with it, didn’t feel it at first. Sat on it, went back edited it — added more and hopefully the outcome is to your standards.

I truly am committed to writing almost any ask that is sent my way.

I do apologize, this got lengthy. I cannot not write anything less than 3k it seems when in the mood. Lmao. I give you smut with minor plot, because I love a bit of backstory and I adore characters that have a familiarity between them or some fluffy shit like that.

(When I wrote this, I was not aware of your preference for Itachi at the time. Shisui CEO was already in the works. Honestly am not entirely convinced this is good. I would be willing to do Itachi in a separate ask, I just didn’t want this to be like 15k of figuring my shit out).

NSFW; airhead-ish intern; smut w/plot; praise kink; oral; vaginal; unprofessional work environment; sex at work; Enjoy!

wc: an exorbitant fucking 3.4k; fuck and I’m not editing it much more right now. Will go back, I just felt like the worlds biggest piece of shit for taking so long lol

As fresh blood in the world of accounting, credentials meant everything. Especially if you want roll with the big boys. Which is why when accepting an internship nearly six months ago from the most prestigious accounting firm, you didn’t hesitate to accept. It would look good on your resume and if lucky enough, you’d be offered a job and avoid the hassle of sending out hundreds of applications.

So far things have been mild and mundane.

Coffee this, tea that. Dry cleaning. You hardly even made an appearance into the conference room except on few occasions.

Today was one of those days your presence was requested. Shisui Uchiha, CEO, owner and founder of Tomoe LLC. An accounting firm for high profiled clients.

Yea, your designated boss was that guy.

The one who made tabloids left and right with his fuck you money and all. The guy who probably had every woman in the office, including yourself, humid and longing. Didn’t even have to try, and there was no lying. How unfortunate you had the hots for him. Regardless of your stance, you retained the upmost professionalism in his presence.

When Shisui walks into the conference room, all eyes are on him. Composed, clean cut and admirable. As an intern your job is to take minute notes, jot ideas he spouts off and anything of importance. At the end of his hour and a half long ramble. Everyone is dismissed.

‘Except you.’ Words you didn’t really expect, but nonetheless did as you were told.

Once the room is cleared, Shisui’s gaze catches yours. Sharp and observant, you felt under the microscope of his heavy dark eyed gaze. ‘I need your help on something.’

Which was great, usually.

This is what you’re here for. If it was coffee, you’d fetch it. If it was picking his dog up from the groomers, that too. You got to use his shiny new car, which was a treat. He made sure you knew nobody before you had that privilege.

‘I’m listening, Uchiha-san.’ Submissive and severely cute as you retained his attention. Even if unintentional, it made his eyes flicker whenever you called him that and he straightened up a bit. A smug grin on his face.

Ever the good girl.

Shisui taps at your laptop, quickly you open its notebook app, ready to record his thoughts. ‘I want you to draft your own document on project of your choosing. Consider it a ‘review.’ How can you make this company grow?’

Oh, it was one of those reviews. The preliminary ‘give me your thoughts and maybe you can have a job’ situation. He continues, ‘on one condition… meet me in my office after work. And we’ll discuss it more personally.’

‘Anything specific I should focus on?’ It wasn’t confusing, but you had the sense there was something particular he was looking for.

He smiles and gazes over you. Shisui always said he appreciated your tenacity and go-getter attitude. ‘Just whatever comes to mind; nothing too serious…..when you write this document, just remember it's for me. It should be tailored to suggestions you think I would….be interested in.’

‘Right, for you…for the company.’ You sheepishly smile back. Why was the room hot, why did your stomach disappear and leave you feeling sick almost. Not in a terrible way, but well….no. He’s your damned boss!!

‘Good girl.’ Something crawled up your spine when he said those words. Your body treasonously gushed, and it was hard not to flush warm in the cheeks. ‘Make sure to send this off before you stop by my office. It would be…beneficial for me to know before we further discuss this in a personal setting.’

A personal setting. After work.

You weren’t stupid by any means, part of you truly believed your boss was hitting on you and the other half was partial to the fact Shisui just knew how to get what he wanted. So, for the last few hours of your day, you focused on real issues within the company. You didn’t want to insult him, but there were things that could improve the numbers and have an impact. Small minute details you picked up the last few months. The document was sent off the last half hour of the day before you walked down to the elevator and took it three floors up to where the higher-ranking individuals in the company were stationed.

Maybe you could be up here. Maybe your ideas would actually mean something. A small smile spreads your face before you knock on his office door.

When Shisui opens the door, he immediately steps aside and motions for you to enter. That’s good sign, right? His gaze lingers as you take in the office that you see maybe three times a month. Your actual duties are handed down to the secretary on your floor directly from him.

A soft click of the door closing has your nerves striking flint at one another.

‘I like how you took this assignment so seriously….’ Taking a seat at his desk, hands folded together. He takes her in.

‘You’re not offended?’ Of course not! The numbers didn’t lie, you had found a hole in his company’s bottomline. Money was being filtered out. If anything, he was grateful you did this so thoroughly.

Shisui’s eyes seem almost piercing, ‘I’m not offended at all. In fact, it’s impressive. Very impressive….now exactly how did you figure this out?’

Oh, that was a toughie. It was by accident, really, you explain. Within the first few weeks of your internship, you were granted access to classified information. Unsure if this was even allowed, you figured that if a potential job was to be had. You needed to know the numbers. Unfortunately for Shisui, undoubtedly, someone was stealing money from him. He had his suspicions prior to your upheaval, but no real way of confirming without causing the perpetrator to become aware. Aside from that it was intricately encrypted, meaning you were incapable of providing further details of who.

Shisui eyes you the whole time, his unwavering gaze felt unkind almost, but sincere. ‘So, you were just casually going through the inflow and outflow. Just so happen to discover…. money missing?’

You exhale heavily, this sounded like it could backfire. ‘Y-yes. I’m sorry if that was a breach of my contract, I figured if I was granted access—’

Shisui’s light chuckle interrupts you, a sort of calm, almost relieved feeling washes down your nerves. ‘You’re fine, I admire your determination and commitment to this company. It seems I can’t trust everyone here…’

‘I suggest, if you’re open to it…. calling tech support, they might be able…’ the words hit your face from the floor. Someone in tech support would be the perfect position to lay low and hide or dispose of backlogs. Shisui quirks an eyebrow at your acute observation. ‘Tech support would be able to see behind all of that.’

At first, he is surprised, then perturbed. Tech support would be capable of seeing behind the encryption or worse. Creating it. Leaning back in his chair, he folds his hands under to his chin. ‘A smart observation….that is….unfortunate. For them, if so.’ A hint of admiration in his voice has you smiling at his praise.

Shisui can’t help but stare at you for a moment. That smile is adorable, even more when you’re not completely flustered by him. When you’re almost comfortable in his presence. ‘You’re a very sharp girl…and you have a good grasp of this business despite being just an intern….’

‘It’s nothing….really. I was just…trying to get on top of the game.’ A soft shrug is all you manage. What else could you say? Now wasn’t the time to toot your own horn.

Shisui leans forward in his chair. He can't help but notice you’re a still bit shy, reserved and overtly quiet in his presence. More times often than not are you loud and boisterous with the friends you’ve made here. Something lurches in the back of his mind; his tone of voice softens.

‘I’d like to commend you for your efforts. You’ve outdone yourself and even figured out someone is potentially funneling money from me.’ He pauses briefly, ‘just out of curiosity though….why did you accept this internship?’

The harsh truth resurfaced with a prejudice. You were bitter the first few weeks, though you were grateful for this opportunity here. Not a word back from a single firm within the five great nations when you sought them out. It was nearly a month later after you had sent out the portfolio did Shisui’s firm respond. ‘You were the only firm to return interest and extend an offer.’

This was not something Shisui expected to hear. It disheartened him and left a foul taste in his mouth. Surely other firms would have been interested. He hadn’t sent a reply as quickly beforehand. Thinking you would take an opportunity in another country. Most people wanted to leave their home cities; he responded solely on the fact he was too eager in his selection for you. The portfolio, while small, was exceptional. Organized and precise. His stubbornness made him hold off but the business side of him does what’s best for itself.

He had to have you, to see the woman behind the mind. Even if you weren’t the spectacular woman before him, he still would have hired you. He wasn’t discriminatory in that matter, only if you would be beneficial to the firm. He knew from the initial interview that you would be, it was just a bonus that you were drop dead gorgeous.

‘No other company reached out?’ The irritation in his voice was severe and brought blasphemy in his eyes.

The hardened look on his face softens once more as you continue, ‘I was shocked to receive your extension to interview.’

Another unexpected answer. Shisui didn’t expect that the other internships went unanswered, but he never once turned down the free labor hours of an internship. There wasn’t a damn thing that made you unworthy of a position here. Intelligent, well calculated….submissive. You did every thing he threw at you from silly errands he couldn’t be fucked with, to listening to him bitch about Genma’s vacation in the Land of Tea being two weeks.

‘So here I am. Almost the six month review. I was hoping that this recent development would…be a retainer for a full time position…’ the words taper off. Hearing how silly you were.

Scratch my back, I’ll scratch yours was not at the forefront of your mind.

But it was his and, well, the funny thing is. Shisui’s back, is on his cock. That’s exactly the kind of back scratching he was referring to earlier when he asked for you to come up with a minor presentation for him. He figured this one wouldn’t fly over the crows nest, but it had. You didn’t quiet catch his intentions.

He would just have to be more…direct.

A small smile spreads his face, the fact that you were just so bashful with your request. Shisui rounds his desk quickly, his hands at your forearms. Sights sharp with intent. Deep baritone grows soft when he addresses you, ‘consider me impressed.’

You quickly dial in at his hands holding you so, so intimately. ‘Why?’ Is that really all you can manage? Though you didn’t understand, ‘why do I impress you? I did something that someone else should have been doing.’ Your brows pinch.

Shisui doesn’t answer right away, he takes the time to consider you. He thumbs small circles on your left arm, as if he is trying to properly convey the words of adoration without scaring you off. ‘You’re right, I should have someone doing this. I am just impressed you were that person when it should have been someone more experienced in this company.’

‘But…?’ Waiting for it. For the let down of not having a position here.

Shisui runs a hand through his hair, the other still on your left arm, ‘this is the first time I’ve ever thought about extending a full-time position to an intern in awhile. But…from now on, you will not be an intern…’ a pregnant pause makes the air thick and stale for a moment. ‘You’ll be my assistant.’

‘Assistant?’ That wasn’t working with numbers, ‘that’s not…numbers or anything close to it…’

Shisui’s laugh fills his chest and reverberates in his throat stopping at a light hum, the grip on your forearm tightens a little to capture your undivided attention wholly. ‘Do not worry. I never said that you would stop working with numbers. That will still be part of your position here. But, moreover, I want your input on other aspects of this company. Marketing, communication, etc. a more….intimate experience at my side.’

You gawk. ‘How can you consider that from a near bare portfolio. I surely haven’t worked my weight in ryo here, not even close.’

In this moment, you look adorable to Shisui. Exasperated and uncertain. Almost undeserving. ‘You’re forgetting exactly why I chose you for the internship. I knew from the moment I interviewed you that you were a very sharp young lady. My trust in your abilities has grown exponentially these past few months, and hence…this new position for you.’

A soft click of your tongue, it was all coming full circle now. ‘This sounds like a curated position that was just made up.’

Shisui’s lips curl into a devious smile, that slips below subtle smirk. He narrows his eyes a bit, those eyes ever intense and drinking you up like the finest whiskey. That calm and composed side of Shisui is replaced by a commanding and dominant presence. Unholy even.

‘Uchiha-san?’ A sharp exhale as Shisui snakes a hand around her waist.

He brings you flush to his chest, running a hand through your hair. Drags his nose along your jaw and up to your cheek before his lips stop at your ear. Hot and raspy, Shisui’s intentions are more than clear. You notice how tall he really is, just towering over you. How much older he is too.

‘What…are you doing?’ A whispered hiss of astonishment at his direct approach.

‘What do you think I am dong?’ Sweet like honey, his voice is deep. Commanding. Possessive.

‘I’m partial to believe this is not in my job description….’ Your soft breath fans the his cheek as he rakes a hand up the nape of your neck.

‘I never suggested it was….’ The words send shivers down your spine, his thumb traces down your cheekbone. His warm breath smells sweet, you know this is not appropriate. Against policy. And as much as you’d hate to admit it.

You enjoyed it. ‘Then what is this for?’

You graze your nose in return over his cheek, the boldness amuses Shisui. How much did you like this? ‘This is part of the perks that come with your new job. If you haven’t noticed by now… I tend to enjoy your company.’

Well no, you didn’t notice. Not until now, ‘no, how could I when I’m hardly doing as an intern should?’ That was cute.

The small moan from your lips is even more adorable as Shisui dragged his lips down your neck. Delirium filled your head space, this was moving too fast. Before you knew it your tight pencil skirt was shucked to above your hips and you were laid on his desk.

Subservient to his desire, fueled by your own deplorable greed within. You could just let Shisui have his way with you, not that you saw it this way. Sex was currency, was also free and felt fucking good. The part of you that may or may not have fantasized this exact scenario unfolding was in charge now.

Spread out, legs over his shoulders holding his head in a vice squeeze. How did it get far this fast? Nose in your heat, lapping and twirling his tongue over your clit. Fingers curling in the confines of your taut muscles. Muscles that ached for it; were drenched for him. If your knocked a few things off his desk, Shisui would forgive you. This was the reason why he’d drawn you in after hours, the sounds you made were no less than a few doors in range: if anyone was still here after hours. They’d hear and pretend they didn’t the next day.

When his cock stretched you, molded you to him. He reamed a hand around your neck and pressed your back into the keyboard. Every time you came close to coming, he squeezed and stopped thrusting. Making you writhe and submit further to him.

‘..please.’ Your desperate whimper.

‘Please..what?’

Those soft eyes of yours caught his attention, ‘..please let me come Uchiha-san.’

He kissed you sweetly, but fucked you like an office whore as you came all over him. ‘Such a good girl…’ rang your ears every so often as he softly panted out between thrusts. Shisui flipped you to your stomach once you succumbed to his relentless pounding. Wrung his hand in your hair and craned your neck back to expose the delicate flesh. Nipping your pulse point, he sheath himself once more. Slower, needier. On the verge of filling your sweet hole with his genetic markup. Gripping your waist to steady your body, he whispered many things of promise if you accepted his job offer.

His bed, car and money. What on earth had gotten into this man? Shisui couldn’t figure out for himself exactly what he was saying either, but it was all forgotten the split second your salacious whimper and saying you were coming again. Had his hips steam rolling and slamming into you harder. Pumping his thinking length as he coated your insides. Holding your back to his chest as you both moaned out loud.

Surely, this was unprofessional. The entire time you fixed your clothes, you expected him to rescind his decision. That didn’t happen. Not when he fixed his tie, adjusted your skirt and covered you with his coat. Not once did his resolve change as you both walked out the dark office and got out of the elevator. He took you to dinner, paid an extraordinary amount of money for too little food and ushered you home. Opened your door and lead you by the small of your back to your front door and gave you a chaste kiss.

‘See you in the morning, ill be here at 6:30am’ It was fully decided by now that you did have a a full time position now, and he handed you a check for the firsts three months salary, and then some that had your head spinning.

‘This is unnecessary..’ It was money that you’d only ever seen on paper, let alone now held in your hands.

‘Consider it a bonus, and a reward.’ Shisui lifted your chin, and kissed your cheek.

You watched as he waited for you to go inside of your apartment, then he left.

#shisui uchiha #shisui headcanons #shisui smut #Shisui x you #shisui #uchiha shisui #sorry this took so long #I really struggled with it #i wasn't ready

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gretavanfleetposts · 2 years

Text

Keep Going

Author's Note: Just some Josh smut that I haven’t been able to stop thinking about and wrote in like 2 hours. Sorry for any mistakes!

Content Warnings: swearing, mentions of drinking, riding, overstimulation, penetrative sex (18+ minors do not interact)

Category: smut

Word Count: 3k

Empty bottles and cups, the sign of a typical night at one Joshua Kiszka’s house, the sign of a fun night had. You’d ended many nights this way, flitting about Josh’s house, helping him dig his furniture out of the sea of empties that graced nearly every surface. And tonight was no different.

The two of you practically danced about the house, making your way back and forth from the recycling bin and trash can at the edge of his kitchen as the record player in the corner of his small dining room still turned an album.

"I think that's enough cleaning for the night," he finally called to you as he met you standing over the recycling bin, trying to gently drop bottles in one at a time without shattering any and still balancing plenty more in your arms. He took them one by one and placed them in the bin before grabbing you by the waist and pulling you into him for a dance.

"You didn't get enough dancing during the party?" you smiled.

"Not enough with you, mama," he smiled back, his usual toothy grin on full display.

He looked good tonight. Well, he always did. But tonight there was just something a little more perfect about the way his bouncy brown curls fell against his forehead and the way his slight sunburn set a delicate blush against his face. It took everything in you to keep yourself from staring.

You and Josh were only friends, after all. But fuck if you didn't want to be more.

You swayed in silence for a bit, appreciating the music crackling through the record player, before you caught a glimpse of something a bit mischievous in his eyes.

“So, overstimulation,” he mused with an even wider smile.

You couldn’t help but laugh, even as you rolled your eyes. “Yeah, yeah. It was a stupid game and Jake wasn’t going to be happy until I gave him an answer.”

He was referring to a game of truth or dare that Jake had drunkenly insisted on earlier in the night. And of course, the question directed at you when you had chosen truth was not so innocent.

“What’s your weirdest kink?” Jake had asked.

You had spoken without too much thought, voicing the first thing that came to your mind which arguably wasn’t really the weirdest thing you were into but Jake didn’t need to know that. And it had gone mostly unquestioned until now, as you stood swaying with Josh next to his dining room table.

“Just to appease my brother then,” he said, swaying you in a circle and letting the movement pick up your dress as it danced along with you at your ankles.

“No, no, I am into it. I just wouldn’t qualify that as a particularly weird one, I guess,” you corrected, although you weren’t sure why you had felt the need to clarify. And then you added, “Why are you interested anyway?”

“I’m just curious. I wanna know what you like.”

You eyed him, giving him a look that said it wasn’t a satisfactory answer on his part. So he continued.

“I just find it interesting, that’s all.” He shrugged very matter-of-factly and you decided to drop it before your cheeks turned far too red.

And so you swayed on in silence again, until Josh’s voice once again got your attention.

“Do you like being on the giving or receiving end?”

You couldn’t help but chuckle at his persistence. “Well, a bit of both I suppose. But mostly on the giving end.”

He smiled then but said nothing, prompting you to question the boy holding you in his arms.

“What are you smiling about?” you implored with a curious smile yourself.

“It just fits, that’s all.”

“Please explain.”

His smile widened. “You’re very you.”

You were blushing, you knew it. You could practically feel the heat that rose to your cheeks as his eyes met yours and held onto them like he had no intention of letting them go and suddenly you felt very vulnerable for having shared all of that information with him, best friends or not. So you pushed the conversation forward.

“What about you? What are your thoughts on the subject?”

“I’m not sure how well-versed I am. But I like the idea of it.”

“Of giving or receiving?”

“Both. But mostly receiving.”

It was your turn to smile.

“What are you smiling about?”

You shook your head and repeated his line from earlier. “It just fits, that’s all.”

He chuckled this time and nodded. “You think so?”

You stilled your movements to watch him carefully. It wasn’t always that you had the courage you had in that moment and to be honest, you weren’t exactly sure where it came from. But it was there, nonetheless. So you spoke before it had a chance to evade you.

“I think you’d look beautiful begging someone to keep going when you’re not sure how much more you can really take.”

His hands, still at your hips, tightened their grip as he looked at you with a much more serious look, his lips parted slightly like you had knocked some of the breath from his lungs with your words.

And you could have sworn he pulled you just a bit closer to him before he responded.

“Someone?” he asked gently, letting his gaze fall from your eyes to your lips. “Or you?”

When you spoke, it was barely above a whisper as your own breath had caught in your lungs. “Would you let me?” you asked rather innocently given what the question was really hinting at.

And for a moment, he let his eyes travel back up to yours as he answered, “I’d let you do anything to me, y/n.”

When he brought his mouth to yours, it was slow and soft, experimental in a way, until you found yourself quickly kissing him back, pushing your lips more firmly against his and letting your arms circle his neck.

There was a slight groan that vibrated through his mouth as the two of you melted into one another, and soon he was walking backward, blindly in search of a chair to grab and sit down on with the goal of not breaking the kiss. The backs of his thighs hit it first and he quickly grabbed the edge of the seat to keep it from tipping backward, bringing you with him as he sat down to steady the chair followed soon after by you climbing into his lap.

He was growing hard beneath you, you could tell from your place in his lap as your mouth still moved against his, his tongue now darting between your lips to taste you, to taste the moans that were bubbling up from the back of your throat, noises that you were trying desperately to quiet and that he was trying desperately to elicit.

Your hands moved into his hair, pulling gently to tip his head back a bit so that as you lifted your hips and ground them back down into his growing erection, you could keep the taste of his plush lips on your tongue, quite possibly the only taste that would ever quench your thirst again.

Breathlessly, he pulled back, much to your dismay, but you could see the arousal in his eyes and the softness of his swollen lips. His chest heaved and the prominent veins in his neck pulsed and suddenly he was an even more beautiful sight than he had been twenty minutes prior, if it was at all possible.

"Are you sure you want to do this?" he asked in a near whisper.

You nodded without needing so much as a moment to think about it. "Yes, Josh. I want you."

It was a flurry of hands at your words as he searched for the skin of your legs through your wrap dress, letting the two sides fall over the edges of your thighs as his hands worked their way up until he found the fabric of your panties at your hips. And soon after, his fingers were hooking into the waistband of the material and working them down your legs, helping you step out of them as you stood from his lap.

As you still stood before him, you took advantage of the space between you and untied his cotton pants, making quick work of them along with his boxers as you pulled the fabric down around his knees, just enough to expose his cock to you, hard and glistening with need. Fuck he was beautiful.

You moved back into his lap, pushing up the hem of his white shirt with one hand but wasting no time lining him up with your entrance with your other hand and finally sinking down onto him slowly, letting him stretch you and taking time to adjust to how he felt inside of you.

His own movements stalled and his eyes rolled back slightly at the stimulation of your pussy suddenly wrapped around his cock and a breathy moan pushed past his lips, a sound you would have branded yourself with if you could have. But as you stilled your hips, he regained his composure and together you pushed his shirt up the rest of the way and over his head, dropping it onto the floor and leaving him wearing just his beads resting against his torso.

"I'm gonna make you feel so good, Joshy," you whispered as you braced your hands against his shoulders and began to bounce in his lap.

His lips found yours again as you rocked your hips, and as you felt the tip of his cock graze your g-spot, you fought through the mind-numbing pleasure to keep your focus on him.

“You are so fucking beautiful,” you mused as you pulled back to look at him, to watch him get closer and closer as he felt you clench around him.

He gave you a slightly exhausted smile before your hips slammed down on him particularly hard and he cried out a slew of curses.

“You feel so good, mama. So fucking good.” He looked like he was in an almost trance-like state as you worked on him, letting his hands feel every inch of your body as his mind went blank. And to be honest, part of you wished you could join him there, in a black hole of pleasure that erased every tangible thought from your mind and left only him and the way he felt in its wake. It was harder than you had imagined countless times before to not lose yourself in him.

And maybe it was just a one-time thing, fueled by curiosity and booze, but you couldn’t bring yourself to care. He felt too good, lifting his hips up as much as he could to match your every movement, although there was a very big part of you that was now entranced with the idea of him overstimulating you. But that was another conversation.

You brought your focus back to the singer beneath you, letting your mouth find his again and biting down on his bottom lip as you rode him faster, the sounds you were both making now mingling together in his fortunately empty house.

"Fuck, I’m so close, mama," he breathed as his forehead fell against your shoulder, his hands now digging into the wood of the chair as you leaned your arm against the table behind you for better leverage to take him deeper and harder, pushing him toward the high that was just barely reaching his fingertips, threatening to grab him and pull him under.

"Come for me, Joshy. I wanna feel you fill me up," you encouraged, and that was seemingly enough to push him over the edge.

You felt him twitch inside of you as he came hard, his head falling back and his hands desperately trying to find a grip on your body, anywhere to keep you moving but also prevent him from snapping in half at the intense pleasure rocking through him. And he looked beautiful like that, his head thrown back the way it had been many times before on stage, only instead of music flowing through his veins, it was pure bliss.

"I'm gonna keep going, is that okay? Do you think you can handle that, baby?" He was beautiful like that, yes, but you longed to see him fall apart.

He nodded but you weren't entirely sure he was comprehending your words so you slowed your hips and took his chin in your hand, raising his head so that you had his attention as he looked at you, completely flushed and cheeks hot.

"Repeat it back to me, baby," you insisted, wanting to make sure he was ready for what you were about to do.

He nodded again as he spoke, already struggling to form words. "You're gonna keep going and I-I want you to. I need you to, please."

Satisfied with his answer you rolled your hips again and Josh let out a mangled cry as his fingers dug into the plush skin of your thighs.

"Fuck," you let out a low whisper. He felt good but it wouldn't have mattered if he weren't even inside you because the flush of his cheeks and the heaviness in his eyelids combined with the sounds he made could have gotten you off. And his begging, now that was a sound you weren’t soon to forget.

You continued your bouncing as he writhed beneath you, unable to keep his body still as the pleasure quickly turned to overstimulation. Sweat began pooling at his temples, dripping down the sides of his face and wetting his neck and you couldn't help yourself as you wrapped your hand around his neck, forcing his head back again as you picked up your hips and moved them faster.

"Can you give me another one, Joshy?" you asked, trying to gauge how up for it he was, but he shook his head lightly.

"I don't-fuck-I don't know," he choked out.

"Can you try for me?" you asked, your own face hot as an undeniable feeling was building deep inside of you.

He nodded but said nothing, opting instead to lean forward and bite down on the hollow of your neck, causing you to cry out.

"Oh my god, yes, fuck that feels so good," you practically sobbed, suddenly overtaken by the way he felt inside of you, stretching you and reaching every spot inside of you that made your toes curl.

And you could tell he was unraveling beneath you too as he used your neck to quiet his sounds when finally his hands reached up your back to hang on to your shoulders and force you down onto his cock harder. And as he pulled his face away from your neck, you saw tears forming at the corners of his eyes, the muscles in his arms and shoulders and neck straining hard but forcing you to keep going.

"Keep-" His head fell back as his hips bucked and he fought to form tangible thoughts. "Keep going," he begged.

"Are you sure?" You didn’t have much composure left but despite how close you were, you knew it was a lot for him to be feeling all at once and you didn’t want to push him too hard.

But as he nodded fervently, his eyes meeting yours and practically pleading with you to keep your movements up, it was enough to push you over the precipice.

"Just a little longer, baby, I'm so fucking close," you promised.

He fought hard to keep his eyes on you but as he snapped beneath you for a second time, no doubt weaker than the time before but still enough to render him incoherent, you broke along with him.

"Oh my god," was all you managed as something released inside of you and you came harder than you ever had wrapped around Josh in more than one way.

You collapsed forward into him as you choked out mangled sobs, riding through your pleasure that came in intense waves, leaving your thighs a shaking mess. And then quickly you lifted your hips off of him to ride out the rest of your high against his thigh, giving him a chance to recover sooner rather than later.

He seemed to come back down to earth as your movements slowed and then finally stilled altogether and, exhausted as you were, you lifted your head to take his face in your hands, stained with sweat and tears and exertion.

"Are you okay? Did I break you?" you asked, still concerned that you had pushed too hard.

He chuckled a heavy, tired laugh, licking his lips and trying to regain his breath. "Yeah, you did break me, and I fucking loved every second of it, mama."

He hugged you to his chest, letting his face rest in the crook of your neck as your forehead dropped to his shoulder. And there the two of you fell into a rhythm together, matching the pace of the other’s breath as you clung to one another before he finally spoke again.

"We should definitely do that again. After I've recovered.”

#josh kiszka smut #greta van fleet smut #greta van fic #josh kiszka fic #greta van fleet fic

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kyberblade · 2 years

Text

Back To You (Din x Reader) - Part 11

A/N: Woo-hooooooooooooo!!!!! Here we are, a part with entirely original content, absolutely no show dialogue or plot lines. Whew. I did it. I had about 3k then all of a sudden it was 10k and I went to wrap it up with a few paragraphs and then we had 13k. I had a lot to sayyy, okaayyy??? I fully expect screaming at me when this is done. We have revelations, discussions, action…. Is that vague enough? Oh! And we have Mando’a again in this one. Lots of it. If the reader doesn’t understand it, it will look like this. (Bold and italic.) If she understands and/or says it, it’ll look like this. (Just italic.) The translations are at the end of the respective sentences in parentheses. Also, once again, there is some lore in this that @writerlyhabits wrote in a fantastic short, and I loved it so much, I asked if I could use it.

(This takes place right where the other one left off and goes into the first part of episode 2x4/12, The Siege.)

I do not own Star Wars or it’s characters. Sadly. But I carry them in my heart. Does that count for something? My soul says yes.

Warnings: Tooth rotting fluff, Grogu being the cutest thing you ever did see, and Din is once again a warning in and of himself in this one. Typical show violence. Maybe like one or two light swear words? Space swearing, and a general sense of you’re going to scream at me, I know it.

Word count: 13,238

As always, thanks to @grippingbeskar for encouraging me, looking over this for me, and being the one to introduce me to Din fanfiction in the first place, getting me hooked. You are fantastic and I always love our chats.

Thank you to @blondiwankenobi who brainstormed the premise of the flashback with me just during a chat, @what-the-heckin-heck who helped me with language decisions while shooting the breeze, and @deceiverofgodss who is the ruler of all Mando’a knowledge, showed me the error of my ways, and was kind enough to help me fix it.

Previous | Series Masterlist | Next

Xxx

Landing on the dusty planet, you tried to peer through the viewport over Din’s shoulder. A cloud of dirt kicked up from the ship quickly obscured your view, dissipating much too slowly for your liking.

“Why are we going there?” You’d asked him as he initiated the landing sequence, the Crest shuddering with the effort.

“We need to make some repairs before we can make it all the way to Nevarro, and it’s quiet and out of the way. It’s where I found the kid. No one will think to look for him where he originally was.”

Nodding, you hesitated before you asked the next question. “Wasn’t this where you met Kuiil? Your burc'ya, your friend.”

Din only nodded in answer.

A silence stretched on between you, filling the cabin with a heavy air before finally it was broken when Din sighed.

His voice was quiet, but compared to the silence you’d just left, it nearly startled you. “We’re going to be landing right by his house. He has- had-” He let out a quick breath. “There is a work bench near the back we can use, and keeping the ship in sight will help keep the Jawas away.” He growled a little when he mentioned the little thieves, making you smile. “Plus, I figured the kid could stretch his legs for a while, you could use the space and privacy to work with your lightsaber, and learn your vambraces.”

“Y-you’re going to let me set stuff on fire? Like on purpose?”

He turned his chair to face you. “It better be on purpose, otherwise you’re doing it wrong.”

You laughed. “How do you say fire in Mando’a?”

Din shook his head at you. “Tracyn.” Continuing to shake his head incredulously at you, he began to mutter as he turned back to the console. “Nehutyc dala, gar mirdi tracyn bid emuurla, ni chabaa gar.” (“Feisty woman, you think fire is so pleasing, I fear you.”)

“That’s not fair,” you grumbled, crossing your arms over your chest and glaring out the viewport as the surface of the planet loomed closer.

“Cuy aay'han bal'bin.” (“It is indeed bittersweet.”)

You had humphed in frustration, slumping further into your chair, making him chuckle.

Now as you made your way down the ramp, Din beside you and the kid in tow, you took in your surroundings as you squinted against the bright sunlight. A small structure that looked like a home sat in the middle, a small shop to the back, a windmill out front, and a large pen in front of it all for some kind of animals, but it was empty.

“Why don’t you go get the kid settled in while I grab our stuff from the ship, then go get parts from his workshop and get started on the repairs,” Din said once you’d all reached the bottom of the ramp, turning to face you.

“I can help,” you offered, taking one step back up the ramp, but stopped when he lightly grabbed your arm.

“I’ve got it. Really, it’s okay. Keep a close eye on the kid. He loves to eat the frogs around here.”

You nodded once, looking down at the kid with a raised brow. He just squealed in response, giggling when you scooped him up off the ground and into your arms. “Come on, little one. We’re going on a frog hunt,” you winked at Din before making your way towards the house, the child letting out a shrill screech of excitement.

Xxx

Din POV

He watched the two of you walk off for just a moment before he sprung into action, climbing the ramp up into the ship. Going straight to your bag, he rifled through the contents until he found the papers he was looking for. Glancing around the doorframe to make sure you were still headed the other way, he flipped through them until he found the document he wanted. The training remote instructions. Folding them in half he tucked them into his belt, returning the others to your bag before sliding it over his shoulder.

Next, he went to his weapons cabinet, punching in the code on his vambrace to make the doors hiss open. Quickly surveying his options, he grabbed the one he wanted, studying it in his hand for a moment before pressing the buttons to close the storage back up.

It wasn’t a spectacular blaster, but it was important to him. It was one of the first ones he’d ever acquired, bought with the credits from his first bounty. He hardly used it anymore, kept it around mostly for sentimental reasons, one of the few things he allowed for that, and he could think of no better use for it than as part of your training remote.

He may not have forged the knife but he’s going to forge the training ball.

No more loopholes.

Grabbing the last few things, he made his way back down the ramp and over to the little shop bench, depositing the blaster and instructions before making his way to the hut with the rest of the gear.

Xxx

Regular POV

The kid was chasing after a frog when you saw Din making his way around from the workbench. Walking the few steps between you, meeting in the middle, you took your bag off his shoulder, and another miscellaneous bag in his grasp.

He leaned around you to look at the kid, sighing. “I told you he’d chase the frogs.”

You looked over your shoulder at the child as he let out a squeal, lunging after the amphibian, and shrugged. “It keeps him out of trouble.”

“He is trouble,” Din grumbled.

Before you could react, a bellowing sound came from over by the ship, the sound of heavy and fast footfalls rapidly getting closer. Looking over, you saw large two legged creatures that looked almost like blobs with teeth charging toward the three of you.

“Get the kid!” Din yelled, dropping every bag he was carrying, and pushing lightly on your back to get you to move in the kids direction.

Dropping your own gear, you ran and scooped the child up in your arms and held him close, turning to watch as the beasts drew closer.

They were so close you could see yourself reflected in their large eyes, and you pulled up your arm, the mechanisms of your vambrace whirring as the flamethrower prepared to fire. Before you could point and shoot, electricity danced over the creatures in a quick flash before they fell to the ground, sliding to a stop right in front of you, the nose of one tapping the tip of your shoe.

The child giggled as he looked down at the walking blobs, making you look at him before you pulled your gaze up to Din, finding him just lowering a rifle, and that’s when you noticed the darts sticking out of the side of their thick skin.

“What…”

“They’re blurrgs,” Din explained, walking up to stand on the other side of the creatures. “It’s how Kuiil got around on this planet. That’s what the pen is for.” He tilted his head to the side at the large vacant enclosure.

“It’s called a blurrg? Its name sounds like how it looks. Blech.”

Din laughed. “Yeah, they aren’t the best looking creatures, but they were loyal and helpful. I’m going to get them in the pen so when they wake up they are contained, and then I can show you how Kuiil taught me to ride them.”

You were still staring at the creatures, their slow easy breaths rising and falling deeply as they slept. “That’s what you say when you don’t know what to say. Blurrg.” You shook your head, looking up at him. “Wait, what, ride them?”

Din nodded slowly with a gentle chuckle. “Don’t worry. If I can get the hang of it, then surely you can, too.”

You swallowed roughly, looking back down to the blurrgs. “We can only hope.”

Xxx

“So you just point like this,” Din adjusted your arms from his spot behind you, moving around to your side to adjust your arms further. “And then flick your wrist down, and that should engage the whipcord.” Before you could move your wrist, he reached out and held it tight, shaking his head at you slowly. “I told you, not yet. This is still the basics. You do it now, you're going to turn yourself into a cocoon, and yes, before you ask again, I speak from experience.”

You rolled your eyes but still laughed at his antics. “Fine.”

He moved to the arm directly in front of him. “Now, this is where your whistling birds are.”

“My what?” You blinked at him.

“Small projectile explosives that track all nearby enemies automatically and before you say anything, no, absolutely in no way am I letting you have tiny flying explosives.” You dropped your jaw at him. “These are blanks, more of a deterrent, so you have time to get away.”

“What is your problem with me and heavier firepower?” You whined, dropping your arms to your sides and standing up straight to look up into his visor.

He sighed. “Do you remember the first time we met?”

“Din, don’t change the subject-”

“I’m not,” he countered, his hands going to his belt as his weight shifted to one side, his head tilting the opposite side yours was. “Answer the question.”

You sighed. “Yeah, at the bar. You got a drink to meet an informant, and they didn’t show-”

“Okay, okay,” he held up a hand to stop you, returning it to his belt when you let out a huff. “Actually, it was before that. A few weeks before.”

Your eyebrows shot up in question before they narrowed, your hands going to your hips.

Din shook his head gently, looking down at the ground before he brought his gaze back to your face. “It was a few weeks before….”

Din stalked down the dirty streets of the lower levels of Coruscant, huffing out an aggravated breath under his helmet, fogging the display briefly. The bounty had given him the slip, jumping on a transport right before the doors closed, grinning at him in triumph through the grimy window. The fob was still beeping, so the bounty was still on the planet, but the beeps were becoming fewer and farther between, meaning it was only a matter of time before the quarry was on an entirely different planet.

Making his way back to the Razor Crest, Din was eager to get back and get off this metropolis hell, the crushing weight of people at every turn making him feel like he was sinking.

Coming around a corner, a group of people were gathered on the street, shouting in various languages, pushing and shoving one another, in what looked like the beginnings of a fight.

Don’t get involved, Din thought, drifting to the side of the streets to continue on in the shadows, undetected.

The crowd began to part as someone shouldered their way through, arguments coming to a halt as they all turned to look at the newcomer with wide eyes. Curious, Din slowed his steps, coming to a stop as he watched the scene unfold, a disbelieving scoff passing through his modulator when he saw what had everyone suddenly on edge.

A woman, bottle of alcohol with a scrap of material sticking out of the top in one hand, and lit torch of some kind in the other. She began to speak in Basic, but everyone seemed to understand her. “Okay, look everybody! I have had enough! This whole thing is so stupid, I don’t want to hear anymore about it!” A few in the crowd began to protest, stopping when she called out. “Hey! You want back into my bar? You shut up!” She looked around, meeting the eyes of every creature without flinching. “No more.” Looking at one large creature in particular, she leveled one of the most severe glares Din had ever seen on him, making the creature that was easily twice her size shrink away. “You understand?”

Agreement went around the crowd in grumbles, and she nodded. “Good.” She sighed, relaxing her shoulders now that the confrontation was over, the movement inadvertently lighting the fuse of the fiery cocktail, and making her eyes go wide, her mouth into a tight line. “Oops,” was all she said as she stared at it a second longer before winding her arm back and lobbing the bottle at a dumpster across the street. In the chaos that followed, even though he looked away to follow the impact for only a second, Din lost track of the woman in the crowd, catching just a glimpse of her apron dashing into one of the storefronts the direction she had entered the crowd from. Looking up to the sign, Din saw it was a bar, and things began to make a little more sense. Emphasis on a little.

One older man stood out as the crowd dispersed, smiling and shaking his head as he turned to move in Din’s direction. Spotting the Mandalorian, he paused, tilting his head in question, and Din decided to get some info if he could. Purely for his own curiosity. Nothing else. Or so he told himself.

“Is she going to be okay?” He cuts right to the chase, stepping up a few feet from the old man.

“How do you mean, Mando?” The senior’s voice has a lilt to it that hints at another meaning entirely, and Din doesn’t know what he thinks about that.

“I mean, that was an accident, it was obvious, but is she still going to get in trouble? I don’t see any law enforcement, but surely there are cameras or something.”

The man smiled warmly. “There’s no security or surveillance down here.” He grinned up at the Mandalorian, eyes darting over toward the bar before coming back and twinkling with something mischievous. “Unless…. You’re offering to keep an eye on her.”

Mumbling his thanks, Din turned away from the old man, drifting closer to the bar as he weighed his options. He wasn’t anywhere near the bounty anymore, the fob barely blinking when he checked it. His ship was still a ways off, and, if he was being honest, after that spectacle, he was more than a little curious about the girl who dispersed bar fights with alcohol bombs. Staring at the flaming dumpster, he chuckled softly.

Deciding he could do with a drink before he goes back to his ship, Din made his way into the small hole in the wall cantina he must have passed by a million times on his many trips here. Stepping into the doorway he paused, looking around. It’s small, not that impressive, but it’s clean, which is more than a lot of places this far down can say. People from the crowd trickle in around him, casting him sideways glances as his beskar catches the lights of some neon signs in the street.

The girl is behind the bar, working as if nothing had happened, but Din notices the way her eyes dart up to the door and to the flaming dumpster across the street every so often. Opting against a drink, he slides into a corner booth bathed in shadows and just watches for the rest of the evening, observing everyone, making sure there is no more trouble.

He slips away at the end of the night, without a name to put to the face, but he still has a smile climbing his cheeks as he makes his way back to the Crest, thinking of her bravery and her various little mannerisms he observed throughout the evening. He didn’t often want to get to know people he came across, but he had been tempted to get to know her. It was simply that she seemed so flustered after everything, he didn’t want to throw meeting a Mandalorian into the mix. People often balked when they first saw him, the stories and the beskar making an intimidating cocktail. But something told him, deep down, if he had just said hello, she’d have met the introduction with the ease of the top shelf drinks she was serving.

It’s only pure coincidence when a contact wants to meet up somewhere under the radar a few weeks later, and he knows just the place.

“And that’s when I actually finally said hello,” he concluded, staring off at the horizon.

“Actually, what you first said to me was,” you grunted deeply, imitating his voice as best you could.

His visor snapped down to look at you. “I did not!”

“Yes! Yes, you did! I asked, ‘Are you here by yourself?’ and you grunted at me.” You smiled. “And you’ve been grunting ever since.”

“I don’t-”

“You do, and it’s fine,” you laughed, reaching out a hand to place on his forearm. “It’s kinda endearing.”

Din grunted in response, both of you tilting your heads at the realization, making you chuckle while Din let out a heavy sigh.

“I can’t believe you saw that,” you mumbled, hiding your face in your palm. “That was truly not my best moment. I only meant to scare them, they were fighting about the stupidest thing, I can’t even remember, and…. And that was a really good top shelf bottle of liquor. What a waste.” You let your hand fall down to your side with a slap against your leg.

“I wouldn’t call it a waste,” Din mused. “Got my attention.”

“Oh, well then I guess it was all worthwhile,” you teased, rolling your eyes.

“It was! Because now I know not to give you anything explosive.”

You glared at him. “You’re mean.”

“No, I just don’t have a death wish,” he chuckled as he moved behind you and ushered you forward.

Xxx

“And why did I take away your flamethrowers?”

Hands behind your back, you looked down at your feet, fiddling the toe of your shoe pointlessly into the ground, mumbling. “Because I roasted your cape on accident. .…But to be fair, it was already really full of holes and next to your jet pack, so really, who was the fire hazard there?”

Din said nothing in response, and you tapped your shoe into the dirt with a little more aggression, staring down at it with a sour expression.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got to adjust some stuff on them for you, anyway, the calibration is a little off.”

“Fine,” you mumbled, still staring at the ground.

“In the meantime, why don’t you try and use this.”

Glancing up quickly with no intention of keeping your eyes on whatever it is for long, you do a double take, your eyes going wide when you see what’s in his hands.

“A training remote…. But how?” You look up at him with wide eyes, not even daring to blink, lest it all disappear.

“You were right, we had most of the parts already, and Kuiil happened to have the rest in his shop. He would have helped you build it if he was here, he was an excellent mechanic.” Din stared down at the ball in his hand, his voice distant. Clearing his throat he tossed the ball up before catching it, bringing his gaze back to you. “I used an old blaster of mine, one of the first ones I ever got from the payout of my first job. It’s reliable and not too powerful, so if you end up getting stung by a bolt, it shouldn’t be too much-”

“Din, this is too much,” you put your hands over his, one under his hand the other cradling the ball in his palm, trapping his hand in between. “That….” Your voice cracked with emotion, and you cleared your throat in an effort to continue. “Thank you,” you finally settled on, looking up into the dark T of his visor, smiling when he tilted his head just slightly to the side.

“Don’t thank me yet. Let’s make sure it works first.” Taking a step back, he flicked it on, and it began to hover close to you, just above your head level.

Pulling the saber from your hip where it has been living since you found it, you pressed the button and ignited the blade, letting the hum wash over you and center your focus on the floating orb.

Settling into a sturdier stance, you waited, reaching out to try and connect with everything around you, to simply feel. Before you realize what you’re doing, you’d lifted the saber at an angle as the ball shoots out a bolt of light. It bounced off the blade, ricocheting into the hills in the distance, and you felt a smile climbing your face.

“I think it works.”

Xxx

You found it hard not to peek when trying to train with your eyes closed. Finally getting so fed up with yourself, you marched over to your bag and pulled out the scarf you had gotten on Tatooine, wrapping it around your head and tying it tight to create a blindfold.

Settling back into a ready stance, you reached out with the Force and turned the trainer back on, immediately tuning in to everything around you as the ball buzzed above your head.

One of the blurrgs bellowed off to your side from its place in the pen, distracting you, and causing the trainer to just catch the side of your arm with a bolt, stinging just enough that you hissed. Reaching out and switching it off again, you lowered the blindfold with a huff, turning to face the pen and lean on one of its poles to watch.

Din had already gotten the blurrgs to calm down, and was even able to ride them for a short time. They still didn’t entirely trust you, but the feeling was mutual. Turning your head just slightly, you saw Din at the edge of the pen filling up the feeding trough with a disgusting looking slop that had the creatures in an excited tizzy.

A few yards behind him the Crest glimmered in the sunlight, looking slightly better than when you had landed, repairs going slow but steady.

You’d taken a break to sit inside and eat something, and Din was supposed to teach you some Mando’a while the three of you ate, but he instead just said a few more sentences in Mando’a and offered no translations, though his teasing tone told you enough to know he’d earned an eye roll.

You all ate at the same table, but you kept your eyes trained on the tabletop when his helmet was tilted back, still not completely okay with the idea of seeing part of his face. The few phrases of Mando’a he uttered when the modulator was out of the way had you completely distracted, lost in the sound of his voice without the creed in the way.

The sun was beginning to set, and you sat a few feet in front of the entry to the house, meditating with the kid. Really you were just resting your eyes while the kid was meditating, but so long as he was still and not eating another frog- you’d lost count at this point and it hadn’t even been a day yet- you’d count it as a win.

You heard the crunch of footsteps coming around from behind you, and smiled, cracking one eye open to peek at Din when he came around in front of you. The smile quickly melted back to something neutral, both eyes opening to take in the sight you were greeted with.

Standing behind the kid, about three feet in front of you, was Din, the sun setting behind him making him almost look like a shadow, but it was still blatantly obvious he wasn’t wearing any beskar aside from his helmet. A simple long sleeved black shirt and black pants was in place where shiny metal usually was, and your brain took a minute to wrap around that fact.

“Not that I’m complaining or anything, it’s a good- it’s a great look for you,” you swallowed, staring at his shirt and the way it pulled across his chest a moment too long before continuing. “But what are you doing?” You craned your neck back to look up into his visor, squinting at the bright sunlight behind him.

Holding out his hand for you, you took it, letting him help you to your feet. Brushing off the dirt from your pants, you froze at his next words.

“You don’t have your vambraces,” he reached out and unclipped your belt that held your saber, blaster, and knife, taking it and gently setting it to the side. “And you have no weapons. Something happens and you need to defend yourself. What do you do?”

“Yell for you and run away.”

A snort of laughter passed through the vocoder, making you smile. Din picked up the kid and set him over by your belt, lowering onto his haunches and producing the little round ball from on the Crest from some secret pocket to keep him entertained. The child took it with an enthusiastic squeal, plopping back to sit on the ground and watch the both of you as he munched on his toy.

Rising to his feet and turning back to you, Din pushed the sleeves of his shirt up to his elbows. “You asked on Tatooine to learn how to fight, and I think you’re right. Nothing major, just how to land a hit without hurting yourself, and how to take one with the least amount of damage.”

You swallowed roughly, nodding as you studied the ground around you. “Okay. Sounds easy enough.”

“It’s not.”

You scoffed, locking your gaze on the T of his visor. “Don’t be rude.”

“I’m not! It’s the truth. If it were that easy, I wouldn’t need to show you, would I?”

You grumbled something as he walked a few paces away before turning back around.

“It’s just like anything else, it’s a skill you have to learn, and once you do, you’ll be great. You’ve already learned everything else extremely fast, this will be the same.”

You hesitated. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

A moment passed before Din burst out laughing, bending over at the waist and clutching his stomach, ignoring your glare. “You-” another wave of laughter cut him off. “You won’t hurt me, mesh’la, I promise.”

“You don’t know that,” you said lowly, failing in your attempt to fight the grin desperately trying to break free.

His laughter reduced to chuckles, he shook his head at you. “You’re right, I don’t. You get the crazy visions, not me. Maybe you’ve already seen how this plays out, but I can almost one hundred percent guarantee that you won’t hurt me. Do you trust me?”

Your glare turned into an obvious look. “Of course I do.”

“Then what can I…. Okay, how about for every successful hit you land on me, I teach you a word in Mando’a?”

You narrowed your eyes at him. “Deal,” you said slowly. “And,” you added, his head tilting at your conditions, “if I end up taking you down, you tell me what all that Mando’a you said on the ship and at dinner was.”

He scoffed. “That’s cheating, mesh’la.”

“Oh, and bribing your student isn’t?”

Din groaned, tilting his head back and turning in a small circle before facing you again and nodding. “Fine. Whatever you say, cyar'ika.”

“I need to hear the words, Din,” you cupped a hand around your ear as if you couldn’t hear him.

“I’ll tell you what the Mando’a means if you end up dropping me, but it would take a kriffing miracle for that to happen.”

“I don’t need a miracle,” you stretched your neck side to side before walking up to stand across from him. “I just need to beat you.”

“Careful,” he warned. “Don’t get cocky. That’s a sure fire way to end up flat on your ass.”

“That works both ways, Din.”

Din chuckled, settling into a wider stance, bending his knees to demonstrate, and you mirrored him.

“Now, some basics. Good places to hit are,” he took your hand and laid it flat on the middle of his chest, both of his hands closing over it and pressing it into the fabric of his shirt. It’s only now you realize he isn’t wearing gloves either, the warmth of his hands bleeding into yours, rough calluses contrasting with soft skin brush softly against your knuckles, and the thudding of his heart under your palm making you dizzy. “Here,” he continued, his voice seemingly unaffected, unlike you. “The solar plexus. This’ll knock the wind out of someone.”

He lifted your hand off his chest, pulling you slightly closer and resting your hand on his left lower ribcage. “Here. Rib shots always hurt, but if you place it right,” he drug your hand further back, effectively moving you even closer to him, “you’ll get a kidney shot, which can drop someone if done right.” He took your left hand and put it over his right side just below the ribcage. “Same for over here. A well placed kidney shot can mean you getting away or not.”

You’re so close you have to tilt your head back to maintain eye contact, trying to not get lost in the surrealness of the soft weave of material in place of the usual armor.

Suddenly you’re facing the other direction, your arms crossed over your chest, wrists held firmly in his hands, and your spine is sealed along his chest. Trying to catch your breath, your eyes dart all around until his voice comes right up beside your ear, the modulator popping at the proximity. Staring straight ahead, your eyes narrow as he speaks. “Don’t let your guard down. It’s easy enough for someone to take advantage of one small lapse and then you end up incapacitated.” You let out a huff of annoyance. “How would you get out of this?”

The real question is, would you really want to? He’s so warm, and without the beskar, his shirt is so soft. You’ve always known he was strong, but you can finally feel every muscle as it flexes behind you, keeping you still. His grip on your wrists is firm, but not too tight. His heartbeat steady in his chest, if a little elevated, is a rhythm against your own that makes you want to dance. And there is an overwhelming sense of just wanting to relax and melt into his hold on you, close your eyes, and just be.

“Mesh’la?”

Your eyes that were drifting shut snap open, your head snapping up from where it had begun to loll back against his shoulder. Fighting. Pain. Attack. Right.

“If I could get my arms free, I could easily elbow you in the kidneys.”

“Correct.” His voice sounded pleased. “And how do you get your grip free?”

“I want to say I could headbutt whoever is behind me, but right now with that beskar, that doesn’t sound like a good idea.”

He chuckled. “Good. Okay, moving on.”

He let go of your wrists and you rounded on him.

“Where is my Mando’a?”

“You didn’t land a hit.” He said it so simply, you don’t respond for a minute.

“I did figuratively.”

“Oh. Well in that case, Ni ven'rejorhaa'i gar naas.” (“I will tell you nothing.”)

Your jaw dropped. “Sometimes I want to strangle you.”

Xxx

You’d landed a few hits in the following few hours, Din making good on his promise and teaching you a word for each one. Ni, cuyi, utreekov. It wasn’t until you strung them all together that you launched at him, batting at his arms in frustration. “I am an idiot. Really? That’s what you teach me?!”

Din was laughing, simply raising his arms up to block your feeble blows, taking small steps back. “Hey, you said you wanted to learn. Is that not learning?”

You stopped with a huff, glaring at him as you grumbled. “Utreekov.”

“See? You’re learning.”

The sun was just finishing its set, twilight painting the area in shadows and purple hues. Stars began to twinkle overhead, and they reflected in his helmet, distracting you for a moment.

“I want to try something,” he said, breaking your absent stare at his beskar, and bringing your gaze back to his visor. “Since it’s dark anyway, put your blindfold on and try to sense me like you sense the training remote.”

“Why do I feel like a party trick all of a sudden?” You groaned, your eyes following him as he began to slowly circle you.

“No tricks, I just want to try it.”

“Fine,” you mumbled, walking over to your belt where it still sat with the kid, smiling at him and scratching between his ears as he slept before pulling the scarf out of a pocket on the belt. Turning to walk back, you fold it up properly, and go to tie it, but stop when you notice Din’s extended hands.

“May I?”

Looking down to the scarf briefly, you quickly look back up at him and nod. “Yeah.” Handing him the thin material, he slowly goes around behind you, delicately draping the cloth over your eyes before cinching it at the back of your head.

“Is that too tight?”

His voice right by your ear made you jump before you chuckled nervously.

“No.”

He finished off the knot gently before you heard his footsteps come around in front of you like earlier. You were about to say something when you heard the seal of his helmet disengaging, your mouth snapping shut at the sound. Shortly after, the clunk of beskar being set on the ground makes everything shift slightly.

“I had to take it off,” he said, his voice without the modulator disarming you as usual. “Something is glitching in my display, and since it’s dark, I figured why not.”

You let out a breathy chuckle. “Yeah. Why not.”

“So no headbutts,” he joked, earning a more substantial chuckle from you.

You held your hands up in surrender. “Fine. No headbutts.”

He continued to circle you, coming in quickly after a few seconds, and you successfully blocked him.

“Good,” he mused, backing away.

You smiled as you let everything flow through you, letting the Force guide you instead of trying to make it tell you something.

This goes on a few times, he came in, you blocked, he went back out, until you were breathing heavily. There was a shift in the air before he came in again, and you were unable to place it until the last minute, and by then it was too late, the sharp tip of a blade pressed close to your neck. He holds you closer than before, your noses almost touching, and you can feel his warm breath fanning out across your face.

“Never assume people will play fair,” he said lowly, his lips brushing against your cheek as he spoke, he’s so close.

His forehead rests against your temple softly, and your mind went utterly blank at the contact.

After a moment he pulled away, and you were left trying to find your breath. You heard the helmet reengage, and you pulled the blindfold down, turning to face him to find him looking up at the sky.

“There’s a meteor shower. I bet you’ve never seen one of those, have you?”

You gasped, turning to look up at the stars. “No,” you breathed, holding your breath until you saw a light streak across the sky and you gasped. Quickly dropping to the ground and laying flat on your back, you watched with wide eyes. “No, I haven’t. The lights are too bright on Coruscant, and that’s if you’re lucky enough to be on the upper levels. From the lower levels you can’t even see the sky most of the time.”

After a few more flew by, you sighed. “It’s beautiful.”

Din sat beside you, his head tilted back to watch, but when you glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, you found his visor trained squarely on you.

“Yes, it is.”

Xxx

Din POV

He’d almost kissed you.

As he sat there watching the stars shoot across the sky, his mind wandered back to just a few minutes ago.

They were so close. It would be so easy to just…. Just breathe a little deeper and close the distance. It’s right there…. His lips had brushed against your cheek as he spoke and it took everything in him not to move just an inch to the left so they could brush against yours.

But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. If he was being honest, for two very blaring obvious reasons. One being he hadn’t told you yet how he feels. Well, not technically. He had, but you didn’t know that.

The other…. He wants to see your eyes when he does.

He wants to see your eyes with his own eyes.

Looking down at you as you laid in the dirt without a care, staring up at the stars in awe, he smiled.

There was nothing wrong with his helmet. He just wanted a moment with you without it. Something he hadn’t felt before, and it caught him off guard. He thought if he gave in and appeased the temptation, maybe the urge would go away, but the opposite had happened. Now he just felt contained and cut off inside the beskar, and he itched to once again be that close to you without anything in the way.

Someday.

“It’s beautiful,” you breathed, staring at the show in the sky.

Din smiled as he looked at you.

“Yes, it is.”

Xxx

Regular POV

Din had shown mercy on you and taught you a word for every shooting star you saw.

Ka'ra, ca, kebii'tra, ca'tra, dral…. Stars, night, sky, night sky, bright, there was a theme. Nothing he taught you would help translate anything he’d already said, and you knew that was on purpose.

You must have drifted off after a while, because soon you were being woken up by his hand on your shoulder, gently shaking you.

“Mesh’la,” he tried softly. “Wake up, mesh’la. You’re having a bad dream.”

Groaning, you sat up, holding your knees close with your arms wrapped tightly around them.

“Must be the stress of everything. I don’t usually have nightmares.” You blearily rubbed one eye with the palm of your hand.

“Wanna talk about it?”

You brought your arm back around your knee and stared off at the horizon. “Well, at first I thought it was a vision of some sort, everything was normal, but then….” You shuddered as you trailed off. “Then the fire….”

“Fire?”

You nodded slowly, eyes wide. “The kid, he- He had his own miniature flamethrowers and was running around lighting stuff on fire, and we couldn’t stop him! And- Why are you laughing?”

Din was laughing so hard almost no sound was coming through the helmet. You whacked his arm with the back of your hand, quickly regretting it as your hand landed firmly on his pauldron, a smile climbing your face unbidden.

“What’s so funny?!”

“You qualify it as a nightmare because the kid was misusing his own vambraces? I’m sorry, I mean, misusing the flames from his mini vambraces?” He chuckled through every word.

“Yes!” Your eyes were wide and so was your smile. “Anything that puts those things in a bad light just can’t be true- Oh, will you shut up, you big oaf!” Reaching out, you shoved his shoulder as hard as you could, barely moving him an inch, making you huff in frustration.

His laughter had reduced to giggles as he tried to right himself, clutching his stomach with one hand, and shaking his head gently. “You’re something else.”

Xxx

The next day you rode the blurrgs a bit around the pen. They still didn’t entirely trust you, but the feeling was still mutual, and you were more than happy to leave it at that.

You watched with a sense of pride as Din worked with the creatures, all of this seeming to come so easily to him. “So are you just good at everything, or….?”

Din scoffed. “What do you mean?”

You gestured to the walking blobs. “You’re just so good with them.”

He chuckled. “Thanks. The first time I tried with Kuiil I got bucked off or head butted across the pen more times than I could count.” You smiled. “But I finally got the hang of it.” He shrugged, going back to petting the head of the closest blob.

Din showed you a few things on the Crest, explaining how the basics of piloting worked, should you ever need to take over in case of an emergency. He promised once the ship was repaired he’d let you try flying if you wanted, and you expected the thought to scare you, but you smiled and began to bounce in place where you sat in the pilot’s chair, making him chuckle.

Later in the day, you and the child got into some shenanigans that resulted in a puff of smoke rising from a tool Din had been using on the ship and had set down for a moment.

When Din turned and saw the damage, he put his hands on his hips and tossed his gaze between the two of you in silence.

Admitting nothing, you pointed at the child who just said “Eh?” and tilted his head as he looked up at you.

Din let out a heavy sigh. “I hate it when the children fight.”

You scoffed, jaw dropped in shock as the child giggled.

After some more hand to hand training, this time without the blindfold, and he wore his beskar again, you sat beside the child while you took a break, sipping some water.

Din reached down to pick up his own container of water, only for it to slide away from his outstretched hand at the last second. Tilting his head, he closed the distance and reached again, the container just out of his grip as it slid across the dirt again. Huffing, he lunged, only for the container to shoot several feet in front of him, stopping when he did.

He turned abruptly to you and the child, hands on his hips. “Okay. Who was it?”

The kid was walking off aimlessly, hands behind his back innocently as he blinked his big eyes to try and deceive the Mandalorian.

Watching the little green menace enact his scene, you scoffed. “Traitor.”

The child turned to you, and let out a mighty, “Patu!”

“Don’t ‘patu’ me!” You chuckled disbelievingly. “You little gremlin.”

Sighing, Din threw his hands up in defeat, turning away from the two of you and beginning to walk away. After a few steps he pointed his arm toward the water container and used his whipcord to finally retrieve it.

The days unfolded slowly and soon you’d been on Arvala-7 a week. You knew enough Mando’a to stumble your way through a conversation with Din, and still get supremely frustrated when he rattled off complete sentences to you in response.

The child kept getting into mischief and you were convinced there was something in the frogs that made him do it.

The Crest was looking better and better, still falling apart and shuddering every time the engine was turned on, but improvement was being made.

You’d just tucked the child in for a nap inside the hut when a glint on the horizon caught your eye as you stepped back outside.

Narrowing your eyes to try and see better, you reached out with the Force to try and sense anything as you fiddled with your vambraces absently. Din had polished them before giving them back to you, and you smiled as you glanced at him a few yards to your right by the pen. He’d seemed so flustered- You snapped your head back toward the flash in the hillside, picking up on several life forms and waves of…. Aggression?

A surge began to roll toward you, and everything seemed to move in slow motion. “Get down!” You yelled at Din, dropping to the ground as a shot tore through the air where you had been standing. Another came lightning fast and pinged off his beskar, making him groan softly.

Rolling your eyes at him, still standing, you got to your feet and dashed toward him, lunging at the last second and tackling him to the ground as three more rapid fire shots tore through the air.

“Stupid Mandalorian. Di’kut,” You hissed, looking around for any signs of the life forces you felt. (More emphatic form of idiot.)

“You’re learning,” Din mused quietly, his tone sounded like he was smiling as he looked up at you from where you’d landed over him, hovering over his chest to stay low.

Looking at his visor you smiled. “I am. Aren’t you glad you taught me how to say idiot?”

“Among other things,” he chuckled, turning his head to look for the shooter as well.

“Do you see anything?” You asked.

He reached up and pressed something on the side of his helmet. “Three bodies, moving this way fast. All of them have rifles. Go get to cover, I’ll take care of this.”

“Are you really that stupid?” You look down at his visor again, and he whips his head back to look up at you. “Gar cuyi utreekov,” you mumble. “A ori solus.” (“You are an idiot.”) (”A big one.”)

“Ni copaani gar slanar-” (“I want you to go-”)

“K'atini!” (“Suck it up!”)

Din tossed his head slightly side to side in disbelief.

“I’m helping,” you said lowly, staring into his visor before you turned to look toward the incoming bodies. “And that’s final.” Pushing off his chest, you uncliped the saber from your belt and ignited it, standing over your Mandalorian, waiting.

Shots flew towards you, and it was just like with the training remote. Letting yourself simply feel everything around you, you suddenly felt like you had all the time in the world, moving into place between the bolts and their target. Sending beams of light back towards your attackers, you heard Din get to his feet behind you and draw his blaster, adding to the flying bolts sent the enemies direction. One of them fell, wounded, and Din took off on his jet pack, landed beside him a minute later and dispatched him quickly. Only seconds later he was back by your side as the other two closed in, laying down heavy fire.

Dodging behind some crates, you disengaged the saber, clipping it back to your belt. “I can’t repel that much fire,” you mumbled, ducking when a shot made the crate splinter close to your head.

Glancing over the edge quickly before ducking back down, Din looked at you and nodded once. “You take the one on the left, and I’ll take the one on the right?”

You smile and nod. “Perfect.”

Waiting until the bandits were close enough, you and Din stayed silent, popping out at the last second and launching toward your designated targets.

In order to buy some time without rapid blaster fire, you blasted a wall of flames at your attacker, making him stumble back, dropping his rifle in the process. Striding closer with each step, as soon as the flames died out, you punched him in the face, disorienting him.

He was quick to recover, however, and began to throw blow after blow. He was sloppy, compared to Din, but he obviously knew where to try and hit, landing a punch square to your chest, knocking the wind out of you. Stumbling back, you heard Din yelling your name from somewhere to your right. Shaking your head to clear the fog, you jumped back in, landing a punch to the guy’s ribs and earning a moan.

“Sur'ar!” You yelled, hoping Din could hear you. (“Focus!”)

“Gar sur'a!” He yelled back, making you groan before it melted into a chuckle. You landed a punch to the guy's face again, then got a kidney shot, and a knee to the groin, making him fall to his knees. (“You focus!”)

“Shut up!” He yelled at you between moans, trying to kill you with only a look.

Staring down at him in amusement, you heard one blaster shot from Din’s direction before the sound of a body landing on the ground, then the tell-tale jingle of the Mandalorian’s boots as he made his way over to you.

“Gar k'uu,” you countered. “Ne shab'rud'ni,” you said easily to the man on his knees. (“You hush.”) (“Don't mess with me.”)

“I said shut up!” The man hissed, trying to rise to his feet, only to sink back to his knees when Din clocked him on the side of his face with his fist. “We can make a deal,” he whined, looking up at the Mandalorian with his one good eye that hadn’t swollen shut. “Keep the child, go on your way,” he looked at you, a twisted smile climbing his face. “Just leave the bitch.”

You looked at Din, and he looked at you. “Kaysh mirsh solus.” You smiled and Din laughed at your comment. (“His brain cell's lonely.”)

Suddenly the man pulled a knife from his boot and leapt forward towards you with a growl.

Wasting no time, you twisted his grip so he was wrapped firmly in your hold, slamming his hand down on his chest and making him drop the blade with a cry. Using the momentum to continue moving him over, you flipped him over your shoulders and onto his back with a thud, and pinned him down with your foot on his chest.

Drawing your blaster, you pointed it at the man. “Ni copaani gar cuyir k'uu.” (“I want you to be quiet.”)

Before you could think any further, you faintly registered Din’s cry of protest at your side before you were pulling the trigger, and the man was lying lifeless at your feet. Holstering your blaster, you noticed a second blaster entry right beside yours, and you turned to see Din with his blaster aimed at the man, smoke still rising from the barrel. You blink once. Twice. Din’s head tilted at you in concern.

“Are you okay, mesh’la?” He holstered his blaster, reaching out a hand to rest on your arm, but you shrugged out of his hold, eyes falling to look at the ground by his feet. He hesitated. “Mesh’la?”

You began to shake, the reality of what you’ve done sinking in. “Don’t…. Just please don’t touch me right now. I can’t….” You took a deep breath, your voice quivering with emotion. “I can’t believe I just killed someone,” you whispered, looking up into his visor.

He put his hands on your upper arms and held firmly when you tried to slip back out of his grasp. “Mesh’la, mesh’la….” He shook you gently to get you to look up at him again, and he sighed when you did. “Mesh’la, we don’t know if it was your shot or mine that killed him. There’s no way to know.”

“But he’s still dead, Din.” You whispered, tears racing silently down your face.

“And if we didn’t kill him, he would have killed you. Or me. Or the kid.” He pointed to the house behind him where the kid was still sleeping. “Or all three of us.” Your face grew more sour with each name he listed.

“I thought you said they wouldn’t find him here!” You turned the subject around, swiping angrily at your tears and kicked at the fob that had fallen out of the man’s pocket in the tussle.

Din picked it up, pointing it toward you, and the beeping went absolutely nuts, almost becoming one constant sound before Din clicked it off.

“They weren’t here for him,” he mumbled softly.

You began to hyperventilate, your breath coming in shallow pants in and out, and everything started to spin. “I can’t- This- This is- Too much! I-” Din grabbed your arms again, and you looked up at him with wide eyes. “I’m a danger to him, I’ll just attract more attention, get him and you and myself- Everyone in the galaxy killed-”

Din tried to calm you down, shushing you softly, and just listened to your ranting, until finally he had to cut in. “You can’t go.”

“Why?!”

He hesitated. “Because.”

You scoffed. “Oh, that’s a great answer, Din.”

“Because I have to tell you something.”

He sighed again, letting the heavy breath in and out carry any trepidation he still had away from him, and any courage he could summon into him.

“That knife…. It’s more than just a symbol of my clan.”

“What do you mean, Din?” Your voice was soft, your tears drying as you stared at him in confusion.

He didn’t say anything. He couldn’t. The words were stuck in his throat.

“You say I can’t leave because you have to say something then you say nothing, I don’t-”

As you turned to walk away, he grabbed you softly and pressed your foreheads together, more forcefully than normal.

He took a deep breath. “I’ve been so stupid. I should have told you, and I’m sorry. Technically I told you, but it was in Mando’a and you didn’t understand….”

“What?” Your voice was a deadpan, beginning to connect some dots, and getting lost in others.

He sighed again. “The sigil on a knife, it’s…. It’s a symbol of courting in Mandalorian culture.”

You said nothing. Not because you wanted to, but because nothing would come. Nothing seemed enough.

“Technically the one who gives it is supposed to forge the blade and I kept using that as a loophole to not tell you-”

“Why?” You suddenly found something to say.

He paused. “Because I didn’t know what I would do if you walked away completely.” The two of you just breathed for a moment. You let your eyes fall shut as the soothing sensation of cool beskar against your forehead began to calm your nerves. “I…. I couldn’t take the thought of not having a you to come back to.”

Your eyes flew open, and you reached up to cup his cheeks, looking into his visor through your lashes. “Oh, you stupid, stupid Tin Can, that would never happen.”

“You don’t know that….”

“I know,” you cut him off firmly, using your hands on the sides of his helmet to tilt his forehead more securely into yours.

He took a breath then paused, letting it out on a huff before he finally spoke again. “As long as we’re being honest and everything, polishing the other’s armor is also a symbol of….”

You dropped your jaw and lightly shoved his shoulder, quickly cupping your hand behind his helmet to pull it back to you, and he did the same, his gloved fingers threading through your hair as he did.

“And here I thought you were just being nice.”

“Well, technically I was being really nice,” he teased, both of you laughing softly.

“Oh yeah? I’ll polish your armor,” you teased lowly, laughing when Din began to cough in response.

“Yes,” you said softly after a moment, chuckling when his head tilted just slightly in question. “Yes, I accept, wholeheartedly, whatever. Help me out here, Din.”

“That’s all you needed to say,” he mumbled softly, sounding like he had a broad smile turning up his features. “Gar gotal'u ni bid briikase,” he added even more softly. (“You make me so happy.”)

“Gar nau'u ner oya'cye, Din.” (“You light up my life, Din.”)

A sharp breath through his modulator caught in his chest, his head tilted just slightly against yours, and you smiled.

“Am I dreaming?” He asked, barely above a whisper. “Was I shot earlier and I’m dead right now?” His free hand not in your hair came up to pat down his chest anxiously, looking for a wound, and you laughed, the sound making his movements fade slowly, his hand coming to rest on your cheek.

“No, you utreekov. In the interest of being honest with each other, I may have found a holopad buried in Kuiil’s stuff, and I may have looked up some Mando’a.” His head tilted even further to the side. “But! To be fair,” you’re quick to add, “you were being so annoying and not telling me anything, so I opted for a more peaceful solution than murdering you in your sleep.” (“Idiot.”)

He snorted a laugh. “Good to know.”

You nodded once, smiling. “I thought so.”

“So, then….” He paused. “Do you know what I said on the ship?”

You sucked air in through your teeth. “Unfortunately, there was only so much Mando’a I could find, and that wasn’t part of it. Bits and pieces, yes, but no, I still don’t know entirely what you said.”

“Good,” Din said with a firm nod, chuckling when you gasp at the remark.

“Mir’sheb,” you grumbled. “See, I told you I figured some of it out.” You laughed softly. “I like to think they are the important parts.” (“Smartass.”)

“For now,” Din mused, slowly brushing the apple of your cheek with his thumb. “The important parts for now.”

Xxx

Strapping each body to the back of one of the blurrgs by an ankle, Din dragged them off into the hills after stripping them of their credits, weapons, and fobs.

Handing all three of the trackers to you, you stared at them with disdain, holding them loosely by the antennas between your thumb and index finger.

“What do we do with them?” You asked, eyeing the little tattletales.

“Well, there’s one sure way to get rid of them,” Din mused, hopping off of the blurrg and walking up to you.

“And that would be….?”

Taking one fob he threw it on the ground and smashed it under his heel, sparks shooting out to the side as the inner mechanics broke apart.

Looking up into his visor with a grin, you dropped another on the ground. “Works for me.” Stomping down as hard as you could, you ground your heel into what was left after the sparks subsided. “That felt good.”

Nodding your head toward the waiting blurrg, you lightly pushed his arm. “Go. Get rid of these di’kut chakaar. Get them out of here.” (“Idiotic bastards.”)

“What are you going to do with the last fob?”

You felt your smile turn toward the mischievous side. “Let’s have a campfire tonight.”

Once he had come back from disposing of the bodies, he began to get things set up for the fire. The child ambled around the area where he worked, chasing another frog.

As you made your way over and spotted the little troublemaker, you shook your head, reaching down when he was close enough to try and stop him, but he lunged right as you did, evading your grasp. Once he got back to his feet and tried to scramble away, you reached out with the Force, holding him still until you could reach him.

He squealed in protest, looking around with a sour expression, as he flailed in one place until you scooped him into your arms, holding him tight. “Leave the poor frogs alone.” The child grumbled gibberish at you. “If you eat too many more you might just turn into one.”

Din chuckled as you made your way over to him. “You heard your buir. You need to listen, ad'ika.” (“Mother.”) (“Little one.”)

The sun was beginning to set, painting the world in oranges and pinks, purples and blues, the stars beginning to make their appearance, twinkling through the darkening blanket above.

Turning his head to look at you, Din pointed at the waiting fire pit. “Care to do the honors?”

You grinned up at him. “Don’t mind if I do.”

Aiming your vambrace towards the pit, you flicked your wrist to ignite the flamethrower, only for it to sputter out, barely a spark shooting out of the end. Shaking your arm a little, you tried again, but to no avail.

“You’re already out of fuel?” Din asked incredulously.

“Well, excuse me, mirsh’kyramud, I had someone who wanted me to practice with it a lot over the last week, and I had to use it to save our lives earlier, in case you forgot.” Din just hung his head in response, chuckling softly. “But don’t worry,” you continued, jostling the kid to your other arm as Din turned his visor just slightly to look at you. “I have two of them.” (“Boring person.”)

“Showoff,” he mumbled, mimicking what you had said to him about the same thing on Tatooine.

Extending your arm, you gestured with your wrist again, and sent a wall of flame toward the waiting pit. The wood crackled as it caught fire, hisses and pops filling the silence when you shut it off.

“Nicely done,” Din said, groaning as he sat on the ground.

“Thank you,” you offered quietly, pulling the last fob from your pocket and examining it before tossing it in the flames. “Goodbye.” The little device let off a whistle that increased in pitch until it finally combusted, sparks flying within the little fire pit, and the flames turning bright blue around it as it burned.

Settling onto the ground next to him, you sat the child on your lap, holding onto him as you watched the flames dance. You hadn’t left much space between the two of you to begin with, but Din soon made sure there was none left, scootching over until his side was pressed firmly against yours.

Staring into the fire, your mind began to wander. It must have shown on your face, because Din was soon asking you about it.

“You okay, mesh’la?”

“Kind of. ….I guess,” was all you had to offer. Pondering on it a bit longer, you finally let out a loud huff before starting again. “I just didn’t like going to that dark place again.”

“How do you mean?”

“Right before I- we shot that guy, it’s like I wasn’t myself. It’s like this darkness is always lurking just underneath and comes out at quite possibly the worst times.”

“There’s a Mandalorian proverb. Haatyc or'arue jate'shya ori'sol aru'ike nuhaatyc. It means ‘Better one big enemy that you can see than many small ones that you can't.’”

“Wait, hold on a second. I’m just in shock that you actually told me what a sentence you just said in Mando’a actually means.” Patting down your chest with one hand like he had on himself earlier, you mimicked his words back at him. “Am I dreaming?” Your voice was barely above a whisper. “Was I shot earlier and I’m dead right now?”

Chuckling, he leaned his shoulder into you more heavily, making you fall to the side slightly.

“I’m just saying,” he continued pointedly, “that maybe it’s okay that that’s your problem. You’re aware of it, and you’re trying to fix it, and as far as I can tell, that’s really the only one.”

“Are you saying I’m basically perfect?”

“I’m saying you're pretty kriffing close.”

You bit your lip and looked back into the fire, willing yourself to not do something stupid like tackle him and smoosh your foreheads together just because he said something nice.

The meteor shower had continued throughout the week, painting streaks of light across the sky above you. There was no need for more Mando’a, or any other exchange of words. Relaxing into the warrior beside you, you leaned your head on his shoulder and looked up at the stars. You knit your eyebrows at him when he quickly pushed you off of him, just enough that he could slip his pauldron off before lightly tugging you back into place.

The rest of the night was spent in silence, closeness, and finally peaceful sleep.

You woke with the sun, its bright rays trickling down onto your face as it broke over the hilltop in the distance. Blinking your eyes open, quick to squint them at the incoming light, and holding a hand up to block what you could, you glanced to your side and saw a sleeping Din. You were in the exact same spots as the night before, your head on his shoulder, his on your head, the fire a few feet in front of you now ashes and a thin wisp of smoke curling up into the morning air.

Even though you’d moved when you had woken up, Din stayed asleep, his head tilted to the side at an uncomfortable angle, and soft snores coming out of his modulator, making you smile.

Peeling yourself away from his side slowly so as not to wake him, you finally succeeded after a few stop-starts. Grabbing your scarf off to the side, you wadded it up into a ball and gently tucked it where your head had been on his shoulder as a makeshift pillow.

The kid let out a big yawn, blinking up at you blearily before he crawled up into Din’s lap and curled back up into a ball, fast asleep in seconds.

Ducking into the house, you grabbed a few satchels of tea you had seen along with two cups, heated up some water and grabbed a few ration packs, tossing them all in a basket that sat on Kuiil’s counter to carry out in one trip. As you passed back over the threshold you paused, smiling at the sight in front of you. Din fast asleep with the kid in his lap, the sun just cresting the hill behind them, the Razor Crest standing proudly to the side.

Building the fire back up into something useful, you paused, looking over your shoulder when you heard Din take a deep breath through his nose, the modulator popping with the sound. He looked around, seemingly disoriented for a few seconds, hand coming up to catch the scarf before it fell, visor falling down to look at the kid briefly before landing on you, a slight tilt finishing out the sequence.

“Good morning,” you smiled.

“Good morning,” he rasped, his voice still heavy with sleep. “How long have you been awake?” He reattached his pauldron he’d removed the night before as he looked at you, waiting.

“Not long.” You turned back to the fire, taking the cup of tea you had steeping for him over some coals off the little grate, turning and handing it to him. “Just long enough to make some tea, really.”

He ran a hand over the top of his helmet like he was ruffling his hair, the absent gesture making you chuckle. “The kid’s going to want something to eat, I’ll go-”

Reaching out wordlessly, you handed him a ration packet, tending to the little warm meal you were cooking from your own packet with your other hand.

He hesitated. “Thanks.” Taking the packet, the crinkle of the packaging must have been the child’s alarm clock, because he was suddenly wide awake and reaching expectantly for the snack.

Turning your focus back to your little warm pastry bread thing, or whatever this dehydrated meal was supposed to be, you heard his helmet disengage before he blew on the hot tea to cool it, then took a quiet sip before the mechanism reengaged. Smiling as you stirred the powdery mix, you were suddenly back at the bar, weeks ago when this all started, and even before, turning away from your nameless Mandalorian friend so he could adhere to his creed and you could still enjoy his company over a drink.

Did you think then that you’d ever be here? On another planet with, arguably, your best friend, and a tiny former Jedi, while learning new languages, new skills, amassing a small arsenal along your belt, beskar on your arms, and a mudhorn on your blade?

No, you probably didn’t. In fact, you’d probably have laughed in your face if you had said that a little over a month ago. But now? Now, there was nowhere else you needed to be. Not a place in the galaxy was better than the one you had right here, wherever these two travel companions, their raggedy ship and your travels took you. Nowhere was quite like home.

One of the blurrgs bellowed from their pen, drawing both of your gazes their way.

Din sighed. “I should go feed them. Let them have a few minutes before I open the pen so they can leave.”

Nodding, you pulled your meal from the grate, settling down beside the kid once Din had gotten up. The two of you watched as he spoke to the creatures in a low, soothing voice, reaching out a hand to pet the middle of their large heads. Looking down at the kid, he stared with wide eyes, his hand in the ration pack frozen as his attention was pulled away from eating for once.

You hadn’t gotten to ride the blurrgs outside of the pen but once, you used the time to focus on training, but Din and the kid had gone on a ride at least once a day. They always took off toward the hills with the child giggling loudly, squealing when Din would urge the blurrg to go faster, the sound coming out in little bursts because of the bouncy gait of the creature.

They’d bring you back little ‘treasures’, the child presenting it to you with a proud smile each time. It was usually just a rock, nothing particularly special, but to you it was. One day it was a bug that had shiny iridescent wings. You’d cringed slightly when you accepted it, trying desperately to hide the grimace from the kid, his eyes shining with excitement.

“I tried to tell him not to give you that, but I think that’s why he gave you that,” Din had huffed from atop the blurrg, making you chuckle.

Every single one, aside from the little beetle you had convinced the kid needed to be released and not eaten, sat in the bottom of your bag, ready to continue on your journey with you.

Din came over and sat on his haunches beside you, turning back to face the blurrgs.

“How did you learn to do that?” You asked before popping a bite of food into your mouth.

The kid opened his mouth expectantly, a belated “Eh?” sounding when you didn’t immediately share. Rolling your eyes, you gave him a bite.

He looked at you. “Do what?”

You swallowed your bite before offering the kid another, much to his joy, gesturing toward the pen with a nod of your head. “Handle creatures so easily.” You looked up into his visor. “Your voice is just so soothing, I don’t know. It just seems like you’ve had a lot of practice or something.”

“I do.” He tilted his head. “It’s the same voice I have to use on a very stubborn friend of mine.”

Your face fell into a deadpan. “You better not mean me.”

“Who else?” He teased. “Gar cuyi ori'atin.” (“You are very stubborn.”)

You scoffed before it melted into a disbelieving chuckle. “Am I, now?”

“The most stubborn.” He sounded like he was smiling. “But I’ve come to expect nothing less. It’s part of what makes you you. Makes you vutyc.” (“Special.”)

You grumbled something unintelligible, making him chuckle as you turned your glare on him. “Sheb’urcyin.” (“Kiss ass.”)

“Only for you.”

“Oh, really now?” You chuckled. “Careful, Din. Don’t get cocky. Your ego can’t get any bigger. Ori’buyce, kih’kovid.” (“Big helmet, small head.”)

Din grunted, angling his visor at your face.

You suddenly felt like prey.

“No, Din, don’t,” you warned, handing the kid the rest of your breakfast before scrambling to your feet, taking a few steps back before Din slowly stood to his full height.

“Don’t what, mesh’la?” He began to stalk slowly toward you, each one of his steps as long as two of yours.

“Don’t make me defend myself. You won’t like the outcome.”

“And what would the outcome be?” He stopped, head tilting further as he stared at you.

“Untangling me from my whipcord most likely.”

The two of you stared in silence for a long moment before you both burst out laughing.

You took off running towards him, catching him off guard, dodging his attempt to grab you and running toward the child. “Kid! Help!”

“Eh?” He squeaked, watching you run past with a turn of his head, then doing the same when Din followed shortly after.

“No one can save you now, cyar’ika.”

Both of you were laughing as you ran half heartedly around the blurrg pen, dodging his attempts to catch you and doing your best to trip him up.

Stumbling back towards the fire, you leaned your back up against one of the large poles making up the circumference of the pen, and stared at the ground as you tried to catch your breath. “I yield, I yield! I give up! Din, I-” Looking up, you stopped short with a startled yelp when you found him right in front of you. “Kriffing hell, you startled me!” He didn’t say anything. “Dank farrik, Din!” You swatted at his chest, trying to create more space between you, but it had the opposite effect, and he crowded in closer. You huffed, your voice quiet. “I surrender.”

“Not accepted,” he finally said, holding still for a moment longer as your brows knit at him in confusion, then he surged forward, his fingers digging into your sides mercilessly, ignoring your screech of protest.

Your cries for mercy soon turned into nothing but laughter as he continued to poke at your sides in the spots he knew were the worst.

It felt like forever, but he finally stopped, easing forward the last few inches left between you, his body gently knocking yours back against the pole, and his coming to meet your front.

Trying to catch your breath yet again, it’s stolen from you when his movements stop after his forehead is firmly pressed against yours.

Leaning your head forward slightly, you melt into the embrace, his hands that had been relentlessly prodding your sides now gently smoothed over them, coming to rest on either side of your waist.

Standing in the silence, you simply share the moment, letting it wrap around you and forge memories for another time.

“We need to get going,” Din finally broke the silence, slowly pulling away from you.

“Okay,” you agree, reaching forward and pulling him back into you. Your hands found purchase in his cowl like they always seemed to do, holding him close. “Just…. Just another minute?” Your breath fogged up the T of his visor when you spoke.

“At least,” he mused quietly, making you both chuckle softly.

A while later, Din slowly rolled his helmet back and forth as if shaking his head. “We really need to get going, mesh’la.”

You sighed. “I know.” You focused on your grip on the material around his neck. “I like it here.”

“I do, too.”

“Quiet, simple…. I think Kuiil was onto something.”

Din let out a soft huff. “He probably was.” The following silence was comfortable. “I’m sorry you didn’t get to know him.”

You pulled away just enough to look up into his visor. “I’m glad you did.”

Finally pulling apart from one another, you double checked everything was packed up while Din went with the kid to get the ship ready to go. You did one last glance around the room, turning in a circle to see it all, and stopping when you saw Din leaning in the doorway watching you.

“Ready to go?”

You nodded, glancing around the inside of the house fondly.

“I’ll open the pen on our way back to the ship. They’ll find their own way out.” He held out his hand to take the bag you were carrying, pulling it over his shoulders before turning to leave the space. He paused after a few steps, looking over his shoulder at you. “Coming?”

You nodded again, not trusting your voice very far with the catch in your throat you were currently trying to swallow down. Walking out of the small home, Din let you walk past him before he fell in step with you on the way to the pen.

He propped the gates open, gave the blurrgs one more slow pet on the head each, then you both were on your way back to the ship, walking up the ramp feeling foreign after so long on solid ground.

After settling in the cockpit, you watched Kuiil’s little homestead disappearing as the ship rose higher and higher. “Thank you, Kuiil,” you whispered. “I had a lovely time.”

The little house was almost too small to be seen when Din spoke. “He would always say, ‘I have spoken’. It was his answer to everything. You couldn’t argue with it. No matter how small or large a matter was, that was the end of the discussion.” He chuckled fondly.

“When you’re as wise as he was, you're allowed to.”

“Yeah, I guess so.”

The cabin was silent until the Crest slipped into hyperspace, the mesmerizing streaks never failing to amaze you.

“Din?”

“Yeah?” He turned his pilot’s chair to face you, glancing over to the kid fast asleep in his seat to your right before he looked back at you.

“I’ve been thinking, and-”

“Uh-oh.”

“Every time!” You raised your eyebrows at him as you scoffed. “I do have good ideas, you know. It has been known to happen.”

“I’m sorry, I just hear you say that, and my mind automatically flashes to you hurling a flaming bottle of alcohol in a dim alley saying ‘oops’, and I go to a whole different place.”

Your jaw snapped shut. “Fine. Never mind.” You turned to stare out the viewport, arms coming up to cross over your chest.

“I’m sorry, mesh’la. What have you been thinking?”

You sighed, rolling your head to look at him. “My blaster doesn’t have a mudhorn yet.”

There was a beat where Din didn’t move or make a sound, he just sat frozen in his seat, and you smirked smugly at his reaction.

“Are you….” His voice died off, his head cocking at an angle in a jerky motion. “Are you saying you want my aliik, my sigil on your blaster?”

“Do you want it on my-”

“Of course I do, don’t be a smartass.”

“Only for you,” you smirked, taking your blaster off your belt and putting it in his waiting palm.

He took it delicately, looking down at it like you had the rocks the child had given you.

Like he was holding something precious. A treasure. And in a way, it kind of was.

A sigil is symbol of clan, of family. Something sacred to Mandalorian culture.

But somewhere along the way, it became sacred to you, too. Somewhere along the way this giant shiny man and his tiny green son had gotten under your skin, into your veins, and became part of your reason for living, the very essence of what kept you going, circulating your system day after day. With adventure, with companionship, with a home.

Xxx

Tags: @ren-ni, @hoodedbirdie, @rennalouise, @kurlyfrasier, @what-the-heckin-heck, @deceiverofgodss, @Littleshadow17, @nghtwngs, @yourcoolauntie, @queenmalhinewahine, @lam-ila, @jesseeka, @come-hell-or-eldren-fire, @creativeautistic, @lemonsandraspberries, @heyitsaloy, @987coley, @marvel-sw-lover, @just-shut-up-kid, @1800-get-alife, @multifandomsw, @oliviajdjarin, @eeopxlt, @tomskookie, @venusacrossthestars, @sanscas, @veralii, @a-rose-of-amber, @i-own-loki, @lil-writer-523, @starry-supernova, @qweenrogerina, @darkenwolfie, @mischiefnevermanaged94, @tragerlover What’s This?

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jtl07 · 8 months

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jtl07 fics, summer 2023

Kinda liked doing the half year recap in June and had planned to do another one at the end of the year, but since I had quite the posting spree this month, decided to do one now.

General stats

Total on this pseud: 12 (all avatrice / Warrior Nun fandom)

Fics posted (chronological order):

to all the girls (to you, to me) -- or: Ava watching people fall in love with Beatrice, including herself

leave it all behind (I’ll see you on the other side) -- or: Ava comes back - healthy, whole, quiet. Too quiet.

the long, delirious, burning blue -- or: the moody Top Gun 2 (Maverick) AU

another little peace (restful pieces): something old, something blue -- or: the girls buy cereal; or or: Bea learning the difference between safety and familiarity

looks for you in everything (finds you there) -- or: Switzerland vignettes based on items found in their bedroom

Enhanced Beings Tech Support transcripts -- or: What if there was technical phone support for “enhanced beings” like halo bearers?

another little peace (restful pieces): lets you see the wonder of it all -- or: Ava meets a member of her family

another little peace (restful pieces): like a boat -- or: Beatrice plays Stray Gods

late night vigil -- or: camila learns about beatrice's strap; she helps in her own way

another little peace (restful pieces): to always wake up to you -- or: avatrice proposal based off of SimplyKorra's fantastic headcanon

another little peace (restful pieces): perchance to dream (no more) -- or: Ava wakes up from a dream

can't go back -- or: Five times Beatrice tries a food for a second time

(More numbers, thoughts, and some plans below the cut)

More numbers

Total words: 36720

Shortest: 685 (to always wake up to you)

Longest (one-shot): 5987 (the long, delirious, burning blue)

Average/Median word count: 3060 / 2019

General thoughts

Nearly 10k more words in the past 3 months than I wrote the first half of the year - I guess being in a safe space after your life has been turned upside down makes a difference, huh?

I still don't know what happened this month - specifically, the two week period from 8/14 - 8/26 where my fingers were just trying their best to keep up with the stories pressing in my brain lol (willing to bet it's somethingsomething healing and how it can take many forms, like this kind of intense spike)

Fun fact: This is only the second time I've written a one-shot over 5k words this year (3rd time ever in my many years of writing fic). It's always interesting to look at the average / median word count because it's been firmly in the 2k range. I still want to challenge myself with longer work, they just take time and energy yknow? Under 3k, I feel really comfortable now, which is a cool feeling

Fic that surprised me:

Honestly, everything that happened in that intense two week period (i.e. everything posted after "the long, delirious, burning blue") was a genuine surprise. Every time one of those ideas happened, I felt like I was just trying to keep up. I was really glad to have the space - emotionally, physically - to write those stories.

And I guess what surprised me also was just how wide a range they all were. I've been trying to work on just "writing what will get written" and learning to turn off the judgemental voice in my head that says things like, "you should be writing more," or "you should be writing better ideas." It was a surprise that these ideas just kinda flowed without much friction, yknow? I'm taking it as a sign of growth :)

Fic that was the hardest to write:

Oh gosh hands down leave it all behind (I’ll see you on the other side) - I had to discard full drafts and start over from scratch multiple times to get to what's actually posted. I had tried different perspectives, different settings, different points in the story, but I just kept getting stuck. I think part of it was because when I write, I usually start with a vibe or an arc - with this one, I was starting with the turn, the twist - which I don't often write either. So writing this kind of story was new on all fronts

can't go back was also a bit frustrating to write - I've been dealing with a sudden recurrence of brain fog so I know part of it was that, but idk, I feel like it could have been tighter thematically

Fic that I'm proud of:

Definitely the Top Gun 2/Maverick AU, the long, delirious, burning blue. I mentioned this in a comment that when I first had the idea, I'd expected it to be more of an action fic - I don't often write action, so I thought it'd be a good opportunity to practice. But, as with most of my work, it ended up quite moody, more a reflection of grief and duty.

Why am I proud of it? Because despite my initial intent, and my initial disappointment when I realized the direction it was going, I allowed myself to go with it. Writing this piece helped me accept where I am in my writing, to accept the stories I choose to write and how I write them. This fic was not at all what I had expected, but it turned out to be exactly what I needed

Runner up: looks for you in everything (finds you there) - the final word count shocked me, honestly, I didn't expect to write so many vignettes. But I was mostly proud of the diligence behind this and letting my sappy side run free lol

WIPs in the wings

Lol my WIP list is hella long - and that's not counting a whole separate document I have that's just prompts. I still have some Supercorp ideas that I've not yet fleshed out that are more on the "experimental" side that play with form and formatting - I've also some avatrice ones in "genre" as well.

Surprisingly, I've a couple AUs I've been turning over in my mind - I blame playing Stray Gods for making me remember some video games I'd grown up playing lol Oh and I've been pondering how to do a litrpg/gamelit style fic as well.

There's a couple longer one-shots that I've been pecking at but are going to take me a while to finish - there's one that's sort of a sister to every leaf that falls (never stops falling) (not a continuation, more like a sister in terms of vibe and tone), and another that explores Ava having a new ability (will I ever stop being enamored with Switzerland era? The answer is no lol).

But mostly, I'm just going to vibe with happens - "write what will get written" and all. We'll see where it all goes!

If you've read this far, thanks a ton for your support and going on the ride that is my fics lol - much appreciation to y'all!

#my writing #jt writes fic #words about my words #avatrice #jt's fic recap

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foxybananaaaz · 7 months

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3k Words

If you have not yet read any of the other parts, please click the Title Page to go to the start.

Lucien Week Day Six :: Romance.

From past to present, do you see Lucien with a romantic partner? @lucienweekofficial

Let's start this part, a little... different.

Elain Archeron had been spending far too much time on her own over the past few months. Save for dinners, or when she would go visit with Lucien in the Day Court, which was more often than anyone at home knew, or would like, had they known.

She was constantly treated as a child, as though she could not hold her own, could not decide things, and needed help.

With Lucien, she felt free. She felt as though she could take on the world. She got the feeling he would let her take his life if situations got so dire. With Lucien, things were simple but also incredibly complicated.

Was the reason her feelings were changing, because of the bond, or were they changing all on their own? They were friends, and while she saw how he would wish for more, she also saw him fight those wishes, those thoughts, the urges the bond made him feel, want. Lucien fought against his instincts, to make her comfortable.

The thread that tied them did not glow, but her heart did feel as though it skipped a beat, while her stomach had the fluttering feeling she had only felt at the beginning of her courtship with Greyson.

Elain was finding that she was finalising her decision she had been considering for a few weeks now. One that would not be taken well, or even easily amongst her sisters, or their family. But it was a decision she was making on her own.

She remembered something Lucien had said a what felt like forever ago, "My Lady, whenever you wish for me to visit, all you need to do is give a little tug, and I will be right there by your side before you know it." And so, without hesitation, without thinking about it, without realizing that it was the middle of the night, and before she really could stop herself at all, Elain took hold of that thread, and gave it a gentle, but firm tug.

She had made up her mind. Her only concern was if there would be a rejection.

*** *** ***

Lucien was on his bed, unable to sleep. He was trying to block out the sound of his mother and Helion reuniting. Again. Every night. For the fifth week in a row. He knew Helion had a reputation, that as much was common knowledge. But his mother?

Clearly, she'd have had to, having seven sons, but still. He didn't want to think about it, let alone be forced to listen to it.

When he felt the first one, he groaned, thinking the reuniting pair was now affecting the house itself. Until he felt it again, and he could not mistake what it was. Nearly crying in relief when he realized what it was.

Finally having an excuse to leave, Lucien wrote a quick note, not knowing how long he would be, and left the house and made it out the gate before winnowing away.

He landed at the edge of the property, and started to make his way up the walk, already seeing Elain waiting there for him, a dazzling smile on his face, causing Lucien to stumble a step. His stumble only caused Elain to giggle into her hand, which he heard clearly. An entirely new sound, one he had to fight to stay standing, and finish his way to her.

When Lucien finally reached his mate, his friend, he was shocked how she pulled him in for a hug right away. Elain usually avoided contact, not wanting to set the bond off more than necessary. Yet here she was, being the one to initiate the contact with a hug. Lucien wouldn't complain, but he sure was confused as he hugged her back.

When Elain did pull back, she kept a hand on his arm with a smile. Lucien just stood there, at a loss for words, dumbstruck. But he had to restrain himself. The two of them were friends. He could not give into these instincts that were so hard to control that the mating bond put forth.

Elain spoke then, mentioning how she did not belong here, at the Night Court. How she needed to get out. She paused there as if she hoped Lucien would pick up on the hint.

The only thing Lucien did pick up on, though, was how Elain mentioned she didn't belong in the Night Court. Which was what caused him to leave.

Lucien quickly explained to Elain that she should not exile herself from her family, that it was not worth losing her family over. Though he grew confused as he saw Elain shake her head.

Lucien listened closely as Elain repeated herself, saying how she did not belong here and did not fit in to the Night Court. There was a certain emphasis on the word night, a small amount, but it was there.

That's when it clicked with Lucien, and his eyes widened. The metal eye looked his mate over as if to make sure there were no spells or glamour on her. When none was found, Lucien spoke.

"You want ... to come to the Day Court?" Lucien asked, as if he were clarifying, to make sure he understood correctly.

Elain simply nodded and informed him that her sisters would not react kindly. That the High Lord would react with anger. They would fight to keep her here because it was a big decision, and they should discuss it amongst themselves, leaving Elain out of it.

Luciens anger rose. He had suspicions that she did not get choices or a say here, but to have it confirmed with what she had just said. To know that his mate was stuck, without the chance to even make a decision on some of the simplest things, infuriated not just the instincts the mate bond gave him, but also who he was to his core, after witnessing his mother trapped his whole life.

To know Feyre also would allow this after she escaped Tamlin for doing the same thing to her. She knew what having very little to no choice was like. How could she do this or allow this to happen to her own sister?

Lucien forced himself to calm down enough to not frighten or concern his mate. "My Lady, if you feel like you need to move, if you wish to go somewhere else, you are going to. I will make sure of that. Go to the Day Court ... go onto my patio," Lucien added, remembering the reuniting that was going on. "I'll go in to pack for you."

Elain simply shook her head, explaining how there was no need to, that she had been bringing over all her important items over the past few weeks, tucking them in a box she had brought, and put in Luciens cupboards. "I've known for a while that I don't belong here. I've known for a while that I want to live with you and your parents in the Day Court. If you all would allow it."

Elain then took Luciens' hand, and the moment their hands touched, the two were back in Luciens' room. It was like no winnowing he had ever felt before.

Elain then pulled Lucien behind her as she walked towards an area of Helions' house that he hadn't been to before.

"Would you dance with me?" Elain had asked Lucien as they reached a room, and she opened the doors to what looked like a ballroom. "I'm not as good as Nesta, I didn't get all the lessons, but I can dance party dances, and it's been so long, I do miss it." Elain finished as she stepped inside, bringing Lucien along as she was still holding his hand.

Lucien stood there, unknowing how he could deny her request, but he couldn't deny it even if he wished to. Elain looked so eager, and her request was such a simple one. How couldn't he agree? How could someone deny her when she was looking at them, with such hopeful excitement in her beautiful eyes, the colour of a young fawns coat.

So he agreed, though he was nowhere near dressed appropriately for any form of dancing. But no one would be watching, so it shouldn't matter too much.

Elain finally let go of Luciens' hand, which was immediately cold and feeling empty, so she could go turn on some music quietly before running back over, finishing with a curtsey.

Unable to stop the smile of pure joy that spread across his face, Lucien returned Elains curtsey with a deep bow, and when he straightened up, he saw Elain smiling widely as well. Though he could have sworn her cheeks were slightly more coloured than a few seconds before.

And so, the two began dancing, losing themselves to the music.

It wasn't until they finished their seventh dance, pressed together, that they had to stop. The two of them were tired, having both been up all night, and just danced through seven songs.

They may have finished dancing, yet neither of them moved to separate from the other. Both smiling and breathing hard, looking to the other, as though they had not had fun like that in their whole lives.

Still, neither of them moving. The two continued to look the other in the eyes. Their smiles slowly faded, but their gazes grew more intense.

"Lucien, I-" Elain began softly, quietly.

"Well, I am genuinely sorry because I can't tell you enough how much I truly hate to break this up, but we have company"

Lucien and Elain both jumped apart as if the other burned them, turning towards the door, the intruder, the voice that wasn't supposed to be there.

Lucien saw his mother standing there with Helion, along with-

Elain grabbed Luciens hand. Her hand was shaking ever so slightly, and this was the only indicator of her fear. Lucien squeezed her hand gently, offering her comfort the same way she was showing him her fear.

Lucien recognized her fear as he saw Rhysand, Feyre, and the Viper.

"Rhysand and Feyre claim that we have taken a high status member of their Court." Helion spoke with a dismissive air to his tone, as if he could tell which way this would go. But Lucien knew the tone would turn dangerous if the conversation turned to even the smallest amount of violence on his lands.

"We did not take her. We freed her. Just as Rhysand freed Feyre when he had his cousin retrieve her from the Spring Court, while Tamlin and I were away." Lucien responded, with a disinterested tone himself.

"Freed? And you would compare the two situations?" Rhysand asked in disbelief.

"Elain?" Feyre had called out to her sister.

When Elain did not speak, Lucien continued. "Yes, freed. Elain told me that she was not free to make her own decisions. That everything she does has to go through the groups approval. It is similar to what Feyre went through after we came out of the mountain. Tamlin refused to let her do what she wanted and would constantly make decisions for her." Lucien explained, seeing realization dawn in Feyres eyes as she remembered what Lucien was talking about.

"I also grew up, watching my whole life, as a female had her choices and freedom removed from her. The whole Court loved her, but they didn't see the pain she was in." Lucien spoke, looking towards his mother. "No one saw the amount pain she was in. Even those who loved her the most."

Lucien then looked back to their guests. "So no, We didn't take her. From our standpoint, and from what she has told us, we freed her."

"She is a high-ranking member of my court." Rhysand responded, not backing down.

"She is my mate." Lucien returned, looking down at Elain. He knew this would be the winning card. He went into this, not wanting to use it, but he was left with no choice.

"She's our sister." The viper spat, fury in her eyes.

Lucien looked towards Nesta and then Feyre. Feyre at least seemed to understand what Lucien meant. "There seems to be a key difference between the fae and human lands you are unaware of yet." Lucien spoke, his tone taking a more apologetic tone as he looked down at Elain. He knew she wouldn't like this next part, even if he worded it the least offensive way he could.

"Being my mate, there is a certain ... claim that I have that even you, as her sister, do not have." He gently squeezed Elains hand, trying to let her know that they were only words to him. Only words to get her to stay, it it was what she truly wanted.

"Even Feyre, as Tamlins Fiancé, as she was not yet married to him when Rhysand announced that he and Feyre were mates, Tamlin could react, sure. But if he tried to take her back, it would have caused a war." Lucien explained. "Mates are rare and are treasured when they do occur."

"Elain?" Feyre tried again. And finally, Elain spoke up.

"I have been planning to come here for the past few weeks. I do not fit in in the Night Court. I asked Lucien to bring me here, if it would be alright if I came here. I was planning to ask Helion in the morning." Elain explained, her hand shaking more, yet her posture and her voice did not betray her. "This is my choice." Elain finished before walking off, dragging Lucien behind her, refusing to let him go.

Lucien heard Helion behind them, sounding as if he were ending the discussion. "Well, you heard her. It is her choice to be here. I'm not going to strip her of her choice. And Lucien is right. She is his mate. You can't exactly change that. Now, unless you plan on visiting socially, forgive me as I ask you to-" and Lucien couldn't hear the rest of what Helion said, as he and Elain were too far away.

"Elain, about what I said, at the end there, please understand I didn't mean it. I'd never lay cl-" Lucien started until he was interrupted.

Lucien was interrupted by Elain grabbing the back of his head, and pulling it down to reach as she kissed him.

Frozen, for just about a second and a half, Lucien finally pulled himself together and moved to place his hands on either side of Elains face and return her kiss.

After he started to kiss her back, Elain let the back of his head go, and wrapped her arms around his shoulders, and rose up on her toes so Lucien wasn't bending down so low.

The small thread that tied the two of them together glowed golden and bright. It pulsed, it sang, it thrived, and it came alive. Their very souls started dancing together just like they had been an hour before. Gravity ceased to exist as it felt like they were floating a foot off the ground. They weren't only brightly golden on the inside, as the sunrise was aimed directly at them, painting their bodies golden as well.

The kiss lasted less than a minute, but it felt like it lasted a glorious eternity. Lucien didn't want to pull back, but he needed to. Being caught off guard, he didn't have the breath to continue any longer.

So Lucien pulled back and looked towards Elain, the most beautiful creature he had ever seen in his life. How had he gotten so lucky to end up with her as his mate?

"I hope you know that that will make it impossible to fight off the instincts and stay just friends." Lucien spoke first, looking into his mates eyes, with nothing but adoration and awe.

Smiling, Elain reached up, giving Lucien another quick kiss before responding herself. "Did you not get the hint? I don't want to stay just friends." Elains smile only widened before hugging Lucien.

Elains hug felt like home.

Lucien felt, well, he felt his heart swell. He felt wanted in a different way from all those months ago when Helion had told him that he would never be exiled from the Day Court. The two were friends, but that statement from Elain felt like more.

Lucien, as a rule, rarely let himself hope. Because his hopes were always crushed right in front of him. But he hoped for the Day Court and Helion, and he hasn't been let down yet. Could he allow himself to hope for this?

In the back of his mind, he could hear the words pulsing.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

To read the next part, press its title, In The Afternoon

This is not Inner Circle hate. It is taking canon information about Elain from Silver Flames(Nesta and Cassians thoughts on how the Night Court doesn't suit her, and Nesta, Azriel and Rhysand making decisions on Elains behalf), and ... slightly tweaking it to fit the narrative here.

#Lucien Week 2023 #Prompt: Romance #Lucien Vanserra #Elain Archeron #Elucien #A Court of Thorns and Roses #elucien fic #elucien fanfiction #Pro Lucien Vanserra #Pro Elucien #LucienWeek2023

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percervall · 1 year

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give me all of your love (something to dream about)

Player: Darwin Núñez, Virgil van Dijk Words: 2887 Warnings: Smut from the first paragraph, guided masturbation/thigh riding, praise kink, slight dirty talk, masturbation (m), semi-public sex, voyeurism, kinda threesome?, cuckolding (I think?), discussing sexual fantasies, multiple orgasms (f), unprotected sex (basically everything but the kitchen sink jesus what did I do?) A/N: Uhm, okay. So. A couple of weeks ago @kostasstsimikass got this ask and the image would not leave me alone. So enjoy the result of what happens when my filthy brain runs for the hills, clutching an idea 🙈 and to think I wrote this in a day and on a Sunday at that

Ivy, I love you, this would not exist without you. Happy new year! What better way to start 2023 than with nearly 3k of filth? 😅

---

You know you would be taking a risk when Darwin dragged you into the dressing room of the AXA. You’re pretty sure anyone walking into the dressing room will know what’s going on purely based on the trail of discarded clothing. As your back collides with the wall of the shower, Darwin looks at you, seemingly searching your face for any sign you are not as into this as him. You nod, wrapping an arm around his neck, fingers sliding into the hair at the nape. Darwin smiles that cheeky smile of his –the one that always sets your body alight– as he dives down to kiss you. He kisses you with a hunger that leaves you breathless, lips slanted over yours, tongue exploring your mouth. You feel his fingers digging into you as he pulls you flush against him. A breathless moan escapes your throat when you feel him harden against you. You rock your hips against him without being fully aware of what your body is doing, clenching your thighs shut, as you feel your arousal soaking your underwear.

“We could get caught, amor,” Darwin whispers in your ear, kissing the skin behind it. You let your head fall back with a gasp, feeling yourself clench around nothing at the idea.

“Somehow I get the feeling you wouldn’t mind,” he continues. You hear the grin in his voice and if your eyes had been open you would have seen a twinkle in his. Instead of answering, you grind against him, desperately seeking something to alleviate the ache between your legs. Bless your boyfriend, truly. He’s such an expert at reading you, knowing just what you need and when you need it.

Darwin slides his thigh between yours, pulling you down onto him. The contact of his bare thigh with your still covered pussy makes you moan as he presses against your already swollen clit.

“Darwin…” you sigh as he drags you across his thigh, giving you the friction you so desperately crave.

“What would you do if someone walked into the showers right now? Seeing you making a mess on my thigh?” he murmurs in your ear. He pulls your underwear to the side, pressing you down more firmly against him. Heat spreads throughout your body, starting in the pit of your stomach until it feels like your skin is on fire. Too focussed on chasing your orgasm, your brain incapable of forming coherent sentences, you let out a needy whine as you rut against him.

“Would you like him to watch you as I take you against this wall? Or would you want him to join us?” Darwin says, kissing the column of your neck. The images he paints leave you panting, adding to your arousal. They were all filthy ideas, but there was one idea –one image– that you don’t dare to share out loud, fearing his reaction.

“My filthy girl, I can feel how wet you got just thinking about it. Tell me, what would you like to do if someone walked in?” His teeth scrape over your collarbone and you buck against him. You’re close, so fucking close, as he tenses the muscles in his thigh, giving you the pressure against your clit that you need.

“I’d let him fuck me while you watch me take his cock,” you say, voice barely above a whisper. You feel him groan against your skin where his lips are pressed against your shoulder.

“Fuck, princess..”

Him letting you have that fantasy, enjoying that fantasy that you have thought about so many times alone in bed at night with your favourite toy buried between your legs, is enough to send you flying over the edge. Your body tenses, muscles in your legs trembling, as your orgasm rolls over you like waves cresting the beach. You moaning Darwin’s name is the only thing that leaves your mouth as you fall, knowing he’s there to catch you as you do.

“Jesus,” you hear someone whisper, someone who’s very much not your boyfriend. Your eyes snap open, and you see the one person that always makes an appearance in your fantasies in the doorway of the showers. Your first instinct is to hide your body from view, trying to save what little dignity you have left. But seeing Virgil standing there in nothing more than black briefs that leave very little to the imagination, with a towel slung over his shoulder, has you clenching your thighs shut, momentarily forgetting Darwin still has his between your legs.

“Oh, you’ve been holding out on me hermosa,” Darwin says with a chuckle, quickly putting one and one together. “It’s him, isn’t it? It wasn’t just anyone in your fantasies,” he adds, turning his head to look at his teammate. You close your eyes, feeling your cheeks burn with embarrassment as you nod.

“And to think you haven’t even seen his cock, amor. Do you want him to join?”

Darwin’s comment leaves you breathless, and you nod again.

“I need you to tell me, princess. Tell me what you want Virgil to do to you,” Darwin says, pressing kisses against your neck as his hand wraps around your ribcage.

Somehow him asking you to spell it out for him while Virgil is very much there and will hear you reveal that seemingly depraved part of your mind is both terrifying and a turn on all at once.

“Darwin,” you whine, moving your body out of sight.

“Do you trust me, hermosa?” Darwin asks you, voice just loud enough for you to hear. You nod yet again, because yes of course you do. “You’re safe. Virgil won’t do anything you don’t want to do. I won’t do anything you don’t want to. This is about you, amor. Want to make you feel good,” he murmurs, and you feel your body relax against the shower tiles. Darwin moves to look at you, silently checking in, before he takes the smallest step back and thus exposing your mostly-naked body to Virgil. Your eyes lock with the Dutch centre-back. His tongue darts out to wet his bottom lip, eyes raking over your body and you feel high on the attention.

“I want Virgil to fuck me against the wall while you watch me take his cock,” you tell Darwin while you remain eye contact with Virgil. You sound a lot braver than you feel; your stomach is in knots and your heart is hammering in your chest. Virgil swallows hard, but stays rooted to the spot in the door opening of the showers. Darwin nudges against your neck with his nose, encouraging you to take the first step. You hold out your hand, moaning as Darwin moves his kisses from your neck to your chest, flicking his tongue over your nipple.

You feel Virgil take your hand, pressing his body against your side. His lips brush against your temple.

“Are you sure about this, sweetheart?”

“Yes,” you sigh, feeling two sets of hands coast the curves of your body.

“If that changes, tell me and I’ll stop. Do you have a safeword?” Virgil murmurs, fingers dancing over your ribs.

“Teacup,” you reply softly, basking in the continuous kisses and fingers caressing your skin. You feel Virgil’s chuckle reverberate in his chest. You were known for your love of tea around the training facility so it had made sense to use the word when you first discussed it with Darwin.

“Alright sweetheart, last question before we get started. Do you want me to wear protection?” Virgil asks, hand moving lower and squeezing the top of your thigh. You hear Darwin moan oh so prettily at the implication of that question, grinding his still covered erection against the outside of your thigh. You look at him, needing his approval in this decision.

“You’re in charge amor, I’m good with whatever you decide,” he says, giving you a chaste kiss.

“I’m on birth control and we’re both clean. Unless you want to, you don’t have to,” you all but whisper. Virgil swears under his breath and gives your thigh another squeeze while Darwin squeezes your hip, leaving open mouthed kisses along your shoulder. You let out a needy moan when Darwin drags two long fingers through your folds, dipping into you just enough for you to feel the stretch.

“So wet for us, amor,” he whispers in your ear, adding a third finger. You keen at the feeling, head thrown back as you ride his fingers. He leaves you whimpering when he pulls them back, bringing them up to his lips as he sucks them clean. Darwin’s eyes twinkle as he tastes you and the sight leaves you breathless. You feel Virgil tug on the elastic of your underwear and you nod, giving him permission to undress you fully. Virgil runs his nose against your jaw, taking up the space Darwin had created for the two of you. His hands move down to the back of your thighs. You wrap your arms around his neck and allow Virgil to lift you up. The tip of his cock nudges against you and as you look down, you help guide him inside. Both of you curse at the feeling of him slowly filling you. Even though you had taken three of Darwin’s fingers with relative ease, Virgil is so much thicker and longer than you had anticipated.

“So beautiful, amor,” Darwin whispers in your ear, watching as Virgil bottoms out. You feel your skin heat up at his praise and let out a keening noise when Virgil fills you completely. It’s almost overwhelming, the feeling of Vigil’s fingers digging into the flesh of your ass, his cock hard and pulsing inside of you, Darwin’s murmured praise; it feels like you could combust at any moment.

“Please,” you beg, whimpering when Virgil tightens his grip on you.

“Please, what, sweetheart?” Virgil asks into the skin between neck and shoulder, pressing gentle kisses as he allows you to get used to him.

“Need you to move.. Virg, please… Need you to fuck me..” you mumble, clawing at his back. You hear both men chuckle at your neediness, but Virgil complies with your request. He pulls back slowly before rolling his hips forward. Your head rests back against the wall as you look down.

“Harder,” you whisper, meeting his eyes. Virgil’s lips curl up in that trademark smirk that has your cunt clenching around him in anticipation. He buries his face in your neck as hips snap against yours. He keeps the same languid pace, but every thrust feels harder and deeper than before, filling you completely. The feeling has your eyes fluttering closed, teeth biting down into your bottom lip. You can hear how wet you are with each of his thrusts. It’s a filthy sound, echoing off of the shower walls. You rest your head on Virgil’s shoulder, turning your face when you hear Darwin moan. When you manage to open your eyes you see your boyfriend leaning against the wall in the corner. He’s still close enough that if you were to reach out the hand currently buried in Virgil’s hair, you could touch him. But right now you enjoy watching him too much. Darwin has one hand wrapped around his weeping cock, dragging it down slowly as his eyes are focussed on the way Virgil is taking you against the wall. It lights a fuse low in your stomach, watching him fuck his fist. The image has you drunk on power, knowing you’re the one doing this to him.

“He’s so big, babe,” you say, your eyes still on Darwin, “so full.. Fuck.” Virgil chuckles as he tilts your hips ever so slightly, hitting that spot deep inside. Darwin lets out a low groan at both your words and the sight before him, and picks up the pace.

“Yes, Virg. Right there. Don’t stop. Just like that…” you ramble, tightening your grip on his shoulder. Virgil is more than happy to oblige and keeps hitting the same spot again and again. You move your legs ever so slightly, allowing him to penetrate even deeper and the sensation has you crying out. You hear Darwin praising you; telling you how much he loves you, how good you look wrapped around his teammate’s cock, how well you’re taking Virgil. Every single word goes straight to your cunt and you’re clenching around him as you feel your orgasm building.

“That’s it sweetheart, come on my cock for us. Such a pretty girl,” Virgil murmurs against your skin, teeth scraping over your collarbone and something just snaps. Your back arches and you feel yourself clench around him in spasms as your orgasm wrecks through you, every muscle trembling as you moan and whine and sob.

A sound from your left pulls you back to earth. Darwin lets out a string of curses in Spanish and you watch as he paints his stomach and chest with ropes of cum before collapsing against the wall. The sight has you moaning and you sneak a hand down to rub your clit in tight little circles with Virgil still buried deep inside of you as you climax all over his cock for a second time, panting and whimpering. You hear Virgil grunt and feel his cock get even harder. He snaps his hips once, twice before following you over the edge. You can feel him throb and pulse inside of you as he fills you with his cum, making you gasp, loving the feeling of being filled that way.

Although your third orgasm is shorter and less intense than the previous one, it leaves you absolutely spent and boneless, your heart trying to escape the confines of your chest.

Virgil carefully pulls out of you, gently lowering you to stand on your own feet. You feel your cheeks heat up as his cum drips down your thighs. It feels both sinful and empowering at the same time. You swallow hard, eyes still unfocussed, as you come down from your high. Darwin immediately wraps you in his arms, holding you up. Virgil turns the shower on and you let both men clean you up while they whisper sweet nothings into your hair and skin.

Your muscles have turned to jelly and you can barely form a coherent thought. As you burrow your face in Darwin’s neck, you feel your nose start to prickle with tears. Your brain is finally catching up with your body, processing what just happened. You try to swallow the sob that’s threatening to come out as the first tears roll down your cheek.

“Are you okay? Did I go too far?” Virgil asks, worry evident in his voice. You shake your head, not able to reply to him.

“It sometimes happens when she has an intense orgasm, or climaxes several times in a short period of time. Is that what’s happening, princess?” Darwin says. You nod, taking deep breaths.

“What can I do?” Virgil offers.

“Just hold me,” you reply, voice barely above a whisper. You let Darwin manoeuvre you so both men can hug you at the same time. The weight of both of them against you calms you down and you feel like you’re slowly regaining control over your body and mind.

It could have been minutes or an hour, you truly have no idea how long they’ve been cuddling you standing underneath the hot water. You blink a couple of times and let out a big sigh.

“There you are,” Darwin says, a gentle smile on his face. You smile back at him and move to turn the water off.

“Thank you,” you say, looking at both of them. Virgil kisses your cheek as a reply and lets go of you.

“Let’s get dried off before Milly fines us for hogging the shower,” he says with a laugh, bending down to pick up his discarded towel and underwear. He offers you the former and you let Darwin wrap it around you. The three of you walk out of the shower and into the now empty dressing room. You let Darwin dry you off before you put your staff tracksuit back on. Virgil opens the door and checks to see if there’s anyone outside.

“Coast is clear,” he calls back. You both follow him out and walk towards your office and exit. You thank your lucky stars you don’t bump into any of the other players or your colleagues and refuse to think about having to face them tomorrow. Virgil pulls Darwin in for a hug and gives you a final kiss on the cheek before saying his goodbyes. Darwin leans against the doorway as you get your things.

“Let’s go home and nap on the couch,” he says while you lock up. You nod with a smile, feeling the exhaustion take over now the adrenaline is wearing off.

“Thank you, for everything,” you say as Darwin climbs behind the wheel.

“Always, amor. I love you,” he replied, taking your hand, pressing a kiss on your knuckles. “Sleep,” he adds when he sees how you’re struggling to keep your eyes open, “I’ll wake you when we’re home.” You nod and your body relaxes into the leather seat with a content sigh as you feel the roar of the engine lull you to sleep.

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