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sugarcoated-lame · 1 year

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Always A Bridesmaid | Jake Seresin x Reader

18+ only, minors DNI!

Jake Seresin x female Bradshaw!reader

Synopsis: Bradley tells all the guys at his wedding that his little sister is off limits… But when has Jake ever listened to Rooster?

WC: 10.5k (she’s a long one folks)

Warnings: a teeny bit of angst, mentions of alcohol, drinking, smut, oral (m + f receiving), unprotected pinv, slight overstimulation, age gap (not really specified but reader is around 23-24 yrs old, jake is in his early 30s), jake being too damn charming for his own good, rooster being a very overprotective big brother, jake being a menace, and natasha being the best sister-in-law, for the sake of this story we’re gonna pretend that Goose died a few years later than what is canon to explain how Bradley has a sister that’s 10+ years younger than him lol

a/n: it’s been like two months since I initially started writing this, so I’m so happy to finally get it out! (:

⋆ . ˚ ✩ comments, reblogs and feedback are greatly appreciated! ⋆ . ˚ ✩

Today was a big day, and you wish you could say you were more excited about it. It’s not every day that your big brother gets married to the love of his life. Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw and Natasha “Phoenix” Trace had finally said “I do” and you were ecstatic for your favorite female pilot to officially become a part of the family.

But you were also recently single, having been broken up with by the boyfriend you’d been with throughout most of college and the following two years since you’d graduated.

Things hadn’t ended on bad terms, the two of you just weren’t in love anymore. What worked in college just wasn’t working anymore, and you’d spent the last few months of your relationship denying to yourself the fact that you were unhappy.

You’re pretty sure now that the both of you had known for a while you weren’t right for each other, but you had been scared to end it–terrified at the notion of starting over. But, the relationship had run its course and, ultimately, he was the one to end things.

That was three weeks ago. You’d come to terms with the break-up, knowing it was what’s best for you. But that didn’t mean it still didn't hurt. It didn’t mean you weren’t sad, or that you were ready to be subjected to all the happiness and celebration that goes into a wedding.

You’re granted a brief reprieve from your melancholy thoughts when your new sister-in-law sneaks up and taps you on the shoulder. “Hey… You don’t look like you’re having much fun. Are you okay?”

Natasha asks the question with a sheepish grin. You can tell she’s trying to seem nonchalant, but you can hear the underlying concern in her voice.

Bradley and Natasha had been together five years now, engaged for one, and you could clearly see from the way that he smiled at her and the permanent glimmer in his eyes, that your brother was truly happy. He and Phoenix had become fast friends during their time together at Top Gun, and it eventually evolved into something more.

When Bradley brought Natasha home to meet you at Thanksgiving during your sophomore year of college, you knew even then that she would be the girl he was one day going to marry. Best friends turned lovers. You could only dream you’d find that for yourself someday.

You and Natasha had quickly become close as well. Bradley and Uncle Mav were the only family you had and it was nice to have another person–especially a badass woman like Natasha, in your corner.

The two of you got on like a house on fire, and Natasha was always there to give her love and support. She was like the big sister you never had, and it wasn’t long before the two of you were ganging up on your brother and teasing him together.

As Natasha’s maid of honor, you’d spent the morning with her and the other bridesmaids, helping the blushing bride get ready for her big day. In a fancy suite getting all dolled up while drinking mimosas, having your hair and makeup done before changing into matching bridesmaid dresses of a silky satin—cowl neckline and spaghetti straps, in a soft lavender shade. Helping Natasha into her beautiful, intricately lacy, white wedding gown.

The wedding ceremony was absolutely beautiful and had gone off without a hitch. Bradley had tears in his eyes as Natasha walked down the aisle to the Wedding March, matching smiles on their faces as they joined hands at the altar.

You even shed a tear yourself as the couple exchanged their vows, and before you knew it, Bradley was pulling Natasha in for a loving kiss and they were declared husband and wife.

Then, onto the reception, you’d watched with a slightly sad smile as Bradley and Natasha shared their first dance as husband and wife. You were so happy for the two of them, truly, but it was hard to get into the headspace for celebrating. Seeing two of your favorite people so in love when you’d just been dumped. When your own love life was at a standstill and you were left feeling lost and lonely.

You’d been too preoccupied in your thoughts to notice the first dance had come to an end before Nat came to talk to you. You felt guilty at the fact that she was spending her time worrying about you when she should be enjoying her big day. You’re lucky to call Natasha your sister.

So, you force your most convincing smile onto your face and nod your head, telling her that you’re just fine.

“Just tired from the long day, but I’m having a great time. I’m good, I promise!” You weren’t sure if she believed you, but luckily Natasha was pulled away by one of her aunts gushing over how beautiful she looked and offering her congratulations, before she could protest.

It’s especially hard to enjoy a wedding reception when you’re sat at a table alone, watching as everyone else is having a good time, dancing along to the music being played by the DJ.

Once the first dance was through, the rest of the guests were welcomed to join the happy couple on the dancefloor. You knew your brother had plenty of cute pilot friends, and you also knew–thanks to Natasha–that some of them were single. So, you were hoping that one of them might ask you to dance.

You may have also been hopeful for the possibility of getting laid tonight. You were newly single but even then, it’d been months since you and your ex last had sex. You were sad and lonely and thought, what better way to get back out there and help yourself feel better than hooking up with one of said cute pilots?

Your plan, however, seemed futile because none of the guys would even talk to you. In fact, since Bradley had introduced you to them after the ceremony earlier in the day, his fellow pilots could hardly look you in the eye.

“Guys, this is my little sister.” With an arm wrapped around your shoulders, your brother had rattled off each of the naval aviators’ names and callsigns, and told his friends your name. They were all nice enough, each politely shaking your hand and making small talk, a few of them making jokes at your big brother’s expense.

But you could sense there was an awkwardness there, almost as if the members of the Dagger squad were afraid of you. You couldn’t understand why, but you could tell they were hesitant to keep the conversation going with you.

Initially, you brushed it off. However, as the day went on, whenever you’d find yourself alone in conversation with one of the Top Gun pilots, they each kept the interactions very short and sweet, acting as though they couldn’t get away from you fast enough. Leaving you feeling unsure of yourself and wondering what you could have possibly done to have them all so blatantly avoiding you.

So, after sharing a dance with your dear Uncle Mav and relinquishing him back into the awaiting arms of Penny, you spend the next half hour moping at the table on your own. Absent-mindedly swirling the straw around in your drink, chin resting in your other hand as you watch the festivities going on around you.

And that’s how Jake finds you.

You were adorable. With your sparkling eyes and your hair pinned up into some intricate up-do that Jake wanted to see undone, a few pieces flowing down and framing your face. The hint of cleavage Jake could see beneath the cowl neckline of that lavender dress that hugged your curves so well as you leaned forward against the table, a slight pout on your lips as you observed everyone having fun on the dancefloor.

Jake could tell that you weren’t having a good time and he knew exactly why.

Little did you know that earlier that morning while Bradley and his groomsmen were getting ready in a suite separate from the girls, your brother had had a “talk” with all the guys.

Debriefing about last night’s rehearsal dinner, Hangman, Coyote, and Fanboy–all of the single groomsmen–had been discussing a few of Natasha’s bridesmaids that they thought were cute. Especially the maid of honor.

Rooster’s ears had been ringing when he heard them describe you to a T, and Jake could practically see smoke coming out of them as he turned toward his friends, always the overprotective big brother ready to shut them down.

“The maid of honor,” all of the groomsmen turned to look at the mustached groom as he began to speak.

“Is my little sister. And she’s off limits.” At his words and the stern, serious tone of Bradley’s voice, Jake and the others collectively shut up, matching caught-out and shocked expressions on each of their faces.

“I mean it, guys, I don’t wanna see any of you hitting on her. I love you all like my brothers, but I’m not afraid to kick someone’s ass if I see you trying it on with my sister.”

The guys all knew that Rooster wasn’t bluffing. With rushed apologies and confirmations that they’d leave you alone, the tension left the room as they all laughed it off and went about their business getting ready for the ceremony.

With Bradley’s warning in mind, the Dagger squad had spent the rest of the day being nice—but not too nice—whenever they spoke to you, and tried to keep their interactions with you to a minimum, so as not to face your older brother’s wrath.

They all knew that Bradley could be a bit hotheaded. Even Bob, who is very happily married, found himself a little afraid to spend too much time conversing with you.

Jake was ready to follow the rules too, it was Bradshaw’s wedding after all. He could hold off on pissing off his best frenemy for one night. At least that was the case, until the reception.

When he saw you sitting all alone, all gorgeous and sulking, Jake knew right then that he had to go talk to you. He knew he was the only one stupid enough—or brave enough, if you ask him—to go against your brother’s wishes, and who was Jake if he wasn’t stirring the pot?

Was it so wrong for him to help a pretty lady have a good time? And you were beautiful, strikingly so, so Jake wouldn’t mind if he got a little something out of it too.

Jake isn’t scared of your brother. Besides, Rooster is far too busy dancing with Phoenix, the newlywed couple far too preoccupied with making heart-eyes at each other to notice him making his way over to you.

Your eyes widen with intrigue as the tall, blonde pilot—Jake, or Hangman as he’d been introduced to you—sidles over to where you’re seated.

God, was he handsome. You sit up a little straighter as he plonks himself down in the chair next to you, a devilish smirk on his lips as he turns toward you.

“What is a pretty little thing like you doing sitting here all on her lonesome?” He inquires, a slight Southern drawl to his voice. Texan, maybe?

“Um… drinking?” Your answer is short, but you’re a bit caught off guard and still annoyed by the fact that all of your attempts at socializing tonight with anyone outside of the few members of your family and Phoenix, had failed.

But now, here was Hangman, going out of his way to talk to you and looking you straight in your eyes. His green gaze intense and leaving you a bit flustered.

Jake glances down to where you’re still toying with the straw in your near-empty glass. With that playful smirk still present on his face, he goes to speak again.

“Well, darlin’, I cannot in good conscience let you drink alone. What are you drinking and how ‘bout I buy you another one?” His question makes you scoff.

“Tequila Sunrise, and it’s an open bar, so… no, you can’t buy me a drink.” You roll your eyes at the almost too handsome pilot.

Oh. Pretty and feisty. Jake was going to have a hard time staying away from you.

“Well then, how about I acquire you another one, and because I’m such a nice guy, I’ll even join you?” Jake winks at you and stands, striding towards the bar before you could even answer his question.

Your brother and Natasha had mentioned Hangman to you a handful times over the years, and he was just as cocky and self-assured as they always said. But, you’d be lying to yourself if you said you don’t find it kind of charming, or that you aren’t extremely attracted to him.

Jake returns a couple minutes later, a Tequila Sunrise in one hand and a glass of what looked to be whiskey in the other. He places your drink down in front of you and slides back into the chair next to yours, albeit a few inches closer this time.

“You know, you look pretty miserable over here. Though, I guess I would be too if I had to grow up with Rooster as my brother.” That draws a genuine laugh out of you.

“There she is!” His exclamation makes you giggle, a slight blush taking over your cheeks. Jake loves the sight of your smile. The sound of your laugh. He decides that he wants to hear that sound over and over again.

“He’s not so bad.” You refute through your laughter.

“I just don’t really know many people here, and I kind of get the feeling my brother and Nat’s friends don’t like me very much. I’m not sure why…” You trail off and look down at your lap, shy all of a sudden. Jake has to fight very hard to not smile at how adorable your furrowed brows and pouted lips are.

“You’re the first person here to actually talk to me for more than two seconds.” You let out a nervous laugh and start sipping your new drink.

Jake feels bad that your dumbass brother’s plan to keep the guys away from you is the reason you’re feeling so down, without you even knowing. And no matter how cute you may look, Jake doesn’t like seeing you sad. He’s going to rectify that.

“Well darlin’, now that I’m here, you don’t need to talk to anyone else.” Jake’s smile is still smug, but sincere, and you can’t help but grin back at him. You shake your head and giggle at the cocky pilot, thinking to yourself that it wouldn’t be so bad if he were the only person you had to talk to for the rest of the night.

“Now, how about we finish these drinks and then we head out onto the dancefloor?” To that, you agree, and the two of you sit sipping your drinks and talking for a little while. Getting better acquainted. Jake is fun and very charming, and you love how easily he’s able to make you laugh.

When Jake notices that you’re just about done with your tequila sunrise, he quickly shoots back the rest of his whiskey, ready to get you onto the dancefloor. He stands and you accept the hand he’s extended toward you, his large hand engulfing your smaller one and letting him lead you into the crowd of people.

Standing in front of him now, you only just notice how good Jake looks in his suit. It’s a simple black suit, white undershirt and black tie, like all the groomsmen wore. But the way it fits his body, the way the jacket sleeves are ever-so-slightly too tight around his big arms, and the way you could tell he was extremely toned even under layers of clothing, made you dizzy.

As you make it onto the floor, Fleetwood Mac’s ‘Everywhere’ begins to play through the speakers. Jake pulls you in close to him by your joined hands and spins you around under his arm. The two of you laugh, both a little tipsy.

You spend the duration of the song dancing together like children without a care in the world. Not much rhythm to it or any real dance moves, mostly just jumping around and singing along to the lyrics, Jake twirling you around a good number of times. You’re sure that the two of you look like idiots, but it’s the most fun you’ve had all night.

You dance together to a couple more upbeat songs, and Jake can’t help but admire you. He finds it incredibly sexy how carefree you seem in this moment.

As another classic rock song comes to an end and a slower song takes its place, Jake pulls you in again. This time by the waist, until you’re nearly chest-to-chest. The warmth of his hands setting your skin alight through the thin, satiny fabric of your bridesmaid’s dress.

Your own hands slide up his biceps, coming to rest on his broad shoulders. You look up at him with those bright, beautiful eyes and a shy smile, and Jake finds himself entranced.

God, he wants to kiss you.

You rest your head on his chest as he begins to sway you softly along to the music. As if Jake can feel eyes burning into the side of his face, he turns the two of you slightly, only to find Rooster glaring at him as he stands across the dancefloor, slow dancing with Phoenix.

“What the fuck is he doing?” Bradley quietly asks, mostly to himself, but the question catches his wife’s attention.

“What is who doing?” Natasha queries with a laugh as she turns to look at where Bradley’s hard gaze is pointed.

“Aw, maybe Bagman does have a heart.” Her lips form into an exaggerated pout as she watches Jake and you sway from side to side as he holds you in his arms, your head leaning on his chest. Bradley looks down at her with a bewildered look on his face.

“No, that is most definitely not AW, and no he doesn’t!” He grouches with a sigh. Natasha gives him a questioning glance, waiting expectantly for whatever the hell it is she’s missing right now.

“I told those idiots to stay away from her.” Bradley mutters dejectedly.

“What are you talking about, told who to stay away from who?” Natasha narrows her eyes at her husband.

“Jake and the rest of the squad. I overheard them talking about how hot they thought my sister was, and I told them to leave her alone.” Bradley whines.

Natasha stays silent for a few moments, processing this information and looking up at her husband with a stunned expression.

“Oh, honey…” She can’t help but laugh. Now she understands why you’d spent much of the evening sulking.

“What?!” Bradley practically shrieks. “She’s my baby sister, I just wanna protect her!”

At that, Natasha cracks a smile. She’s always admired how much Rooster loves his little sister and how, with your parents gone, he always felt it was his responsibility to take care of you.

“Bradley, I love you, but you really are an idiot sometimes.” Natasha grins, shaking her head at her husband. The look he gives her is dumbfounded and one of slight offense.

“Babe, I get that you want to protect your sister, but she’s not a kid anymore. She’s an adult and you have to let her make her own choices and her own mistakes. Even if one of those mistakes is Bagman.” Natasha scrunches her nose playfully and Bradley gives her a deadpan look.

“You know she’d be pissed if she found out that you did that.” Natasha smirks, thinking back on a few of the silly sibling spats that she’s had to mediate over the last few years since she’s been with Bradley—most of them due entirely to his overprotective tendencies and your desire to escape them.

“Come on, Roo, you know I’m right.” Bradley rolls his eyes dramatically and sighs, wrapping his arms around his bride.

“Yeah, you always are. Doesn’t mean I have to like it.” He places a kiss on her forehead, and murmurs against her skin. “But if he hurts her, I’ll kill him.”

Bradley glares in Jake’s direction once again.

Jake can also feel the eyes of the other Top Gun pilots on the two of you. They’ve all just witnessed the interaction and look between him and Rooster, some looking on in amusement, others in fear for Jake's safety.

Jake has to bite back a laugh, leaning his head down on top of yours to hide the cheeky smile that plays on his lips. The two of you slow dance a little while longer, Jake’s hands rubbing gently up and down your sides and sending your stomach into a frenzy of butterflies.

Jake decides he’d like a moment alone with you, away from prying eyes. His hands leave your torso, moving to rest on your arms, giving them a light squeeze to gain your attention. The hazy, content look on your pretty face when you look up at him only strengthens his desire to be alone with you. Fuck, he wants you.

“Come with me?” Jake leans down to whisper into your ear, his warm breath sending a shiver down your spine. When he pulls back, you look up to see his emerald eyes boring into you, and you simply nod.

You aren’t sure where he’s taking you, but if he keeps looking at you like that, you’re pretty certain you’d follow him anywhere. He grabs your hand and spares a last glance at your still glaring brother, smirking as he leads you to the exit of the ballroom.

Before you can make it past the threshold though, Jake comes to an abrupt stop and lets go of your hand.

“One second.” He quickly breathes out, leaving you standing by the door as he darts back over the bar.

You’re confused for a moment, but you can’t help but giggle to yourself as you watch him look around to make sure no one is watching before he reaches behind the bar, grabbing an unopened bottle of champagne.

He sprints back over to you, once again taking your hand in his free one and speeding out into the hallway, pulling you along with him. You’re unable to keep from laughing, near breathless as you try to keep up with Jake’s long strides in your high heels.

When he finds a dark, empty room towards the back of the venue hall, Jake pulls you inside with him and closes the door. Before you know it, your back is pressed against it, hitting the hard wood with a thud as Jake crashes his lips against yours, kissing you breathless.

Catching your plush bottom lip between both of his, one of his hands finds your waist in the dark, the other still holding onto the neck of the champagne bottle. You kiss him back with just as much fervor, reaching a hand up into Jake’s blonde hair and tugging lightly, pulling a soft groan from him.

The two of you move in sync, lips pressing together at an increasing speed and intensity until your lungs are burning from the lack of oxygen. Jake pulls back for some air and both of your chests are heaving, light pants escaping your lips as you stare at each other in the dark of the room.

When you look down and catch a glimpse of the bottle still in Jake’s grasp, you let out a breathless chuckle.

“You forgot the glasses.”

He follows your gaze and laughs along with you, though it comes out as more of a pant.

“Shit, yeah. Maybe we can find some in here, if I can just find a light…” Jake trails off, his body leaving your personal space and pulling the warmth of him along with it. You’re left standing by the door, feeling cold and already missing his presence and his weight against you as he goes off in search of the lights.

It’s a quick search, after about only 30 seconds, Jake finds a lamp on a table in the corner of the room. He switches it on, casting the room in a soft, dim golden light.

No longer bathed in darkness, you now see that the room you ended up in is another suite like the ones the bridal party had used to get ready that morning. A couple of fancy olive green velvet couches spread throughout the space, a few vanity mirrors along the far wall, a door leading to a bathroom at the back.

You take a seat on one of the lavish couches and remove your heels, feet aching a bit after the long day. You pull your legs up onto the couch as Jake goes on the hunt for champagne glasses. After a brief and unsuccessful search, Jake joins you on the couch.

“No luck.” His playful pout makes you giggle as he plops down onto the cushion next to you.

“Fuck it!” Jake exclaims as he turns the champagne bottle away from you to open it, a small gasp escaping your lips as he sends the cork flying somewhere across the room.

He hands the bottle over to you with a grin.

“Ladies first.” And there’s that wink again. As you take a swig from the bottle, Jake pulls your feet up into his lap, and you nearly choke on the fizzy liquid in surprise when his fingers begin to massage your calves. Once the initial shock wears off, you can’t stop the contented sigh that escapes your lips at the feeling.

When you’ve taken a few sips, you hand the bottle back over to Jake, fingers brushing as he takes it from your grasp. His eyes remain on your face as he takes a big swig of the champagne and you can feel a blush beginning to heat up your face.

Setting the bottle down on the floor, Jake tugs your legs closer to him again, this time pulling until you’re nearly sitting in his lap and drawing a little yelp from you. Your face is inches away from his and in the dim lamplight you can see that his eyes are blown wide, mostly black with only a hint of that pretty green visible.

Jake reaches a hand toward the back of your neck, gently running his fingers between your shoulder blades and down your upper back, bare due to the low backing of your dress. Grazing your skin with a featherlight touch before curling his fingers around the nape of your neck and pulling you in to kiss him again.

The taste of champagne is prevalent as Jake attaches his lips to yours. His other hand moves to your waist to help guide you fully onto his lap. Your own hands slide along his chest over the soft fabric of his suit jacket and up to his broad shoulders, fingers gripping lightly at the soft strands of hair at the nape of his neck. Your lips move softly against his, finding a rhythm and allowing yourself to get lost in it.

Jake’s hands squeeze at your waist, thumbs just barely grazing the underside of your breasts through your dress as he deepens the kiss. Pulling you impossibly closer as he nips at your bottom lip, eliciting a quiet whine from you. His tongue tracks along the seam of your lips and you’re quick to part them for him, allowing his tongue to work softly against yours.

You and Jake relish in the taste of one another mixed with the sweetness of the bubbly alcohol, your movements becoming more fervent. Your head grows dizzy as Jake groans into your mouth when your fingers gently tug at the hair at his nape.

Jake feels his cock twitch in his pants when he pulls away and sees your hazy expression, all hooded lids and kiss-swollen lips. He presses a trail of sweet kisses to your jaw and chin, working his way down to your neck. His nose grazes the column of your throat, inhaling the sweet, flowery scent of your perfume.

Your head tilts back on a quiet moan, granting Jake more access as his mouth begins to work at the side of your neck. Sucking and biting at the soft skin, teeth sure enough to leave a mark. With your hands still in his hair, you pull Jake back up to your lips, kissing him ardently as your hips involuntarily rut against the growing bulge in his trousers.

You both moan at the friction as Jake’s hand moves to cup your cheek, fingers tangling in your intricately styled hair. As his tongue glides against yours, you feel him begin to pull at the pins, loosening your hair from its confines until it flows freely around your shoulders. He pulls back from the kiss to look at you with a look that screams pure lust.

“Fuck, I’ve been wanting to do that all night.” Jake breathes as he runs a hand through your silky locks. Since he first laid eyes on you, he’d wondered how you’d look with your hair all messy and free, your perfect little up-do unraveled. And fuck, does he like what he sees.

With a newfound sense of need, you reattach your lips to Jake’s, sliding your tongue into his mouth as your hands begin to push the suit jacket off of his shoulders. He shrugs it the rest of the way off, letting out a whispered ‘fuck’ as your lips trail down his sharp jawline to his neck as your nimble fingers begin to work on untying his tie, and straight to unbuttoning his dress shirt after that.

When his upper half is free of clothes, you tease soft, barely-there kisses along Jake’s shoulders and the hard plains of his chest. Eager to touch more of your skin, Jake’s hands make their way down to your thighs, changing positions to pull you underneath him on the velvet couch, your legs wrapped around his hips. He sits up and runs an index finger lightly under the thin strap of your dress.

“Can I?” You nod fervently in response to his question and Jake gently pushes the straps off of your shoulders.

You sit up and Jake pecks your lips, his hands moving behind you to unzip the top of your dress. The soft satin falls down around your torso, revealing a strapless lacy bra that matches the pastel purple of your dress. His hands reach again behind your back, making quick work of unclasping your bra to reveal your perfect, supple breasts.

Jake takes a moment to admire the beautiful picture that’s in front of him before he leans down to kiss at your chest. His lips work softly at the swell of your breast, thumb and index finger coming to pinch at one nipple while his mouth engulfs the other. The moan it pulls from you is music to Jake’s ears.

Your fingers tangle in his hair once again as his tongue swirls your nipple, quiet whimpers escaping you as he kisses and suckles at the skin. His mouth travels to your other breast, leaving a trail of kisses along the way before sucking the bud between his lips, tongue working softly at it until it forms a hardened peak.

Satisfied with his work, Jake grazes his teeth against your nipple, evoking a breathy gasp from you and a tug on his hair as he nips at the sensitive bud before releasing it. You feel a gush of arousal at your core as his mouth starts to trail lower down your torso. Kissing softly at your sternum, your ribcage, and just above your navel.

Goosebumps form along your skin as Jake lowers himself down on the couch, strong hands gliding up the sides of your thighs. Pushing the silky fabric of your dress along with them until it’s bunched up at the middle of your torso, revealing pretty, sheer lace panties that you’re sure are probably soaked through.

Jake presses a kiss to your hip bone, looking up at you with wild eyes awaiting your permission. You swallow hard, nodding your head frantically. You need him to touch you before you go insane.

“Please, Jake,” You hardly recognize the breathless, whiny voice that comes out of your mouth. “Need you.”

Jake runs a finger along your slit over the damp fabric of your panties, your desperate, breathy cries painting a smirk on his lips. He doesn’t need to be told twice.

He teasingly bumps his finger into your clit just to hear you whine before his fingers grip onto your waistband, pulling the lacy fabric torturously slow down your thighs. He sits back on his knees, pressing a kiss to your knee as he helps get your underwear the rest of the way down your legs.

When they fall to the floor, Jake repositions himself on the couch between your thighs, lifting one of them over his shoulder. His lips make a trail up the inside of your thigh, kissing and nipping at the soft skin and enjoying the way your breath catches as he inches closer to where you need him most, before ultimately moving back and starting again on the other thigh. Your fingers tug at his roots, chest breathless and heaving as you wait for Jake to just do something.

You moan out loudly in surprise as your wish is granted, Jake’s tongue licking a broad stripe through your folds. Your fingers tighten in his hair when he presses a kiss to your clit. He pulls back for a moment and just stares at your cunt, pretty and glistening just for him.

You’d be embarrassed at the attention if it weren’t for the look of complete awe on his gorgeous face as he gazes at your core. His tongue glides through your folds again, collecting your arousal.

“Mm, so fuckin’ sweet, baby. Just like you.” And with that, Jake sucks your clit between his lips, drawing a loud cry from your lips as he applies a firm pressure. He alternates between suckling the sensitive bud and dipping his tongue into your hole, tasting the wetness that continues to flow at his ministrations.

As his lips wrap around your clit once more, you feel one of Jake’s fingers begin to tease at your entrance. Gathering the wetness there before the digit enters you, he lets out a low groan as you clench around it. He works his finger in and out, adding in a second to help stretch you out and get you ready for his cock.

Jake can hear your soft whimpers and heavy breathing, he can feel the way your walls clench around his fingers even tighter as he prods at that spongy spot inside of you and he knows that you’re close.

“Gonna come for me, Sweets? You gonna come all over my tongue?” Jake implores with a teasing smirk before he dives back in, tongue replacing his fingers and licking into you.

“Fuck, please, Ja- OHH!” Your plea is cut short as his fingers pinch at your clit once more. Rubbing tight circles in time with his tongue that’s fucking in and out your hole. Jake’s fingers quicken their pace, pressing firmly against your sensitive bud while he devours you, and you fall over the edge with a sharp cry that borders on being a scream.

“So fucking good for me.” Jake mutters against your center, his tongue lapping up your release while his fingers still gently swirl your clit and work you through your orgasm. He licks up every bit of your sweetness, rutting his hips against the velvety couch cushion to gain some friction on his still-clothed cock that strains under the fabric of his pants, as he watches you writhe under his tongue, hands tugging at his roots hard as your loud cries turn into soft whimpers.

Jake only lets up when your shaky hand tries to push his head away from your center, the pleasure becoming too much. Leaving one final kiss to your inner thigh, he pulls back, lips and chin glistening with your release.

You tug at Jake’s hair again, guiding his head back up to be level with yours. You pull him into a bruising kiss, moaning into his mouth as you taste yourself on his tongue. Your hands travel down to unbuckle Jake’s belt and open the button of his trousers, one hand dipping into the waistband to cup him over his boxers.

Jake grunts above you as you palm at his hard length, his own hands reaching down to help you remove his pants.

Only able to get them about halfway down his legs from his position hovering over you, Jake pulls back and stands from the couch. He pulls his dress pants and underwear down in one swift motion. Your mouth waters at the sight of him, his cock long and hard, the tip red and dripping with precum.

Before he can return to his previous position kneeling above you, you too stand up, pushing Jake back onto the couch in a seated position.

“Wha- where ya goin’, darling?” Jake questions you with a breathless chuckle, a bit surprised by the moment of dominance from you. As you drop to your knees in front of him though, he starts to get the hint.

“Just wanna return the favor.” You say it sweetly, giving him your best doe eyes. Jake’s hand comes up to cup your cheek, caressing the skin softly and letting out a desperate groan as you position yourself between his thick thighs.

You trail your nails along the skin of his thighs, leaving light pink marks in your wake as you tease your way to the apex of his thighs. When you finally wrap your hand around him, you feel Jake’s cock twitch in your grasp and look up at him with a sweet smile.

Minx. Jake swears he could cum right then and there.

Your hand rubs along the base of Jake’s cock and up to his tip, collecting the precum dribbling from his slit and dragging it down his length to aid in your movements. Your grip tightens around him just slightly, and you enjoy the desperate sound he makes as you lean down to place a kiss to his weeping tip.

Hand still cupping your cheek, Jake’s fingers move into your hair as you kitten lick at his tip before taking him into your mouth. Your tongue swirls around the ridge of his head, sucking softly and moving further down onto his length. You take as much of him into your mouth as you can, eagerly sucking his shaft and using your hand to rub what you can’t fit.

Your fingers move to grip one of Jake’s strong thighs as you take him as far down your throat as you possibly can, blinking up at him with wide doe eyes. Your cheeks suction around his length and Jake chokes on a loud moan, his fingers tightening in your hair when his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, fuck.” He gently pulls you off of him with a groan, a string of saliva still connecting your swollen pink lips to the head of his cock. Jake knew he was getting close and he didn’t want to finish before feeling your sweet cunt wrapped around him.

“Need to be inside you, darlin’.” Jake practically begs as he pulls you up to your feet. He finishes unzipping your dress that’s still hanging down around your middle the rest of the way, watching the fabric pool around your feet before guiding you to sit atop his thighs. Fully naked and secure in his lap, you wrap your arms around his neck and lead Jake into another fiery kiss.

“Need you, Jake.” You breathe against his lips, noses rubbing together as you nod your head against him.

You grind your hips down against his in an effort to convey your need. Jake’s hand reaches down to grip his cock, running it along your soaked folds and bumping your clit with his tip, teasing you both as you moan against each other’s lips.

“Shit… I don’t have a condom.” Jake realizes, voice sounding defeated as he looks down and watches the head of his cock tease at your clit once more.

“Fuck.” The word comes out of your mouth as a whine.

Fuck was right. All that hoping and planning to get lucky tonight, and you hadn’t had the forethought to bring protection? Whoops.

Lucky for you, you’d been on the pill for a couple of years now, having started taking it when you were with your ex. You place a gentle kiss to Jake’s cheek before pulling back to look in his eyes as you speak.

“I’m on the pill. And I haven’t been with anyone in a while, so… I’m good.” You chuckle sheepishly, brows furrowing slightly as you wait for Jake’s response.

Jake nods his head eagerly. “Fuck-yeah, I’m all good too! If you’re sure…” he wants to be sure that you’re comfortable.

He can’t help but grin as you nod your head just as eagerly, but that grin is quickly wiped off Jake’s face.

Your brother can never find out about this… Rooster would actually kill him. It’s bad enough that he’s sleeping with Bradley’s little sister on his wedding day, let alone without protection.

It’s an afterthought that Jake realizes he must’ve accidentally spoken aloud, as the giggles that erupt from you in response to the words spoken under his breath hit his ears.

“Yes.” You plant a kiss on his jaw. “I’m sure, Jake.” Another kiss. “Need you.” Your lips move to peck his hungrily.

His thoughts are immediately pulled away from Rooster and Jake couldn’t be happier. Not only does he get to be inside of you, but he gets to feel you wrapped around him with no barrier in between.

Your blatant need for him only inflates Jake’s ego, and makes him impossibly harder. His hand cups the side of your neck, pressing his lips firmly to yours one more time before leaning back to look at you with a smug smirk.

“Go ahead. Take it, baby.” Jake drawls as he leans back, arms stretched along the back of the couch, his words have you clenching around nothing.

At his request, you lift your hips slightly, taking Jake’s hard cock into your hand and lining it up with your entrance. He watches in awe as you sink down around his length slowly, the both of you hissing simultaneously. You at the stretch, and him the tightness of your walls enveloping him.

Your hands hold onto Jake’s shoulders for support as you take him, inch by inch, until he’s fully seated inside of you. You both let out quiet curses at the feeling. You’re not sure you’ve ever felt so full, but your slickness makes for easy movement once you get used to the stretch.

You lift your hips until just the tip of his cock is still inside of you, before slowly sinking back down and grinding your hips against his.

“Fuck. Feel so good, darlin.” Jake groans as your muscles clench around him and you let out a quiet whimper in response.

You bury your face in the crook of Jake’s neck as you begin to ride him, moving up and down his length as your hips work to find a rhythm. Jake groans as you begin to pick up the pace, his hands moving to your hips to help guide your movements.

When you’ve found a good rhythm, Jake plants his feet firmly on the floor beneath him and begins to thrust up into you. Pulling your hips firmly against his with every thrust, hitting that spot inside of you that makes you cry out in ecstasy.

The soft whimpers you let out against the skin of his neck are driving Jake’s movements, the sweet, open-mouthed kisses littered against the column of his throat spurring him on. He grunts as your walls tighten around him in a vice-like grip on a particularly hard thrust.

Jake can tell you’re getting tired as your thighs begin to tremble over his, hips stuttering and losing their tempo as you rise and sink yourself down on his cock.

His hands wrap around your thighs, lifting you off of him and you whine in protest at the loss of the fullness of him. With you still hovering over his lap, arms wrapped around his neck, Jake easily flips the two of you over, gently placing you so that you’re lying back on the velvety couch. He hovers over you, knees digging into the cushions and he leans down to attach his lips to yours as he lines up with your entrance again.

You moan into the kiss as Jake bottoms out inside of you, your velvety walls welcoming him in with ease. Jake lifts one of your thighs around his hips, your leg going to wrap around his back automatically as he plows into you, the head of his cock hitting that spot deep inside of you again and it has you seeing stars.

The room is filled with the sounds of heavy breathing, Jake’s soft grunts and your blissful cries mingling together. Skin slapping against skin as Jake drives into you, the sound of your growing wetness as his cock moves in and out at a rapid pace. Jake leans down to suck a nipple into his mouth as he fucks you, nipping lightly at the skin.

“Jake…fuck! Please…” You’re babbling almost incoherently, the fucked-out look on your face sending Jake into a frenzy.

“I’ve got you, honey. Want you to come for me.” He mumbles against the skin of your chest as he continues to fuck you, one hand gripping onto the top of the couch for support.

He can sense you’re getting close and he applies a firm thumb to your clit, the pressure willing another moan from deep within you. Your fingers lock onto the strands of his hair as his fingers begin to circle the sensitive bundle of nerves.

Jake quickens the pace of his thrusts, and his hand moves to grab the leg that’s wrapped around his waist, instead pushing your knee up to your chest so he can plunge into you deeper. The new angle combined with the consistent pressure on your clit has you screaming out, and you pray that no one walks down the hall past this room right now because they’d definitely hear you.

The sensation of Jake’s thumb and forefinger harshly pinching your clit sends you over the edge, a loud, broken cry escaping your throat as he fucks you through it. His length continues to move in and out of you, hips never slowing their pace. The overstimulation leaves you a whimpering mess, nails clawing into Jake’s shoulder as he searches for his own high.

Jake is nearing his end too, the tightness of your walls constricting around his cock as you writhe and whimper underneath him makes his hips stutter as he slams into you. With a few more thrusts, he reaches his peak with a deep groan. His warm, sticky release coating your walls and you sigh blissfully at the feeling. Jake’s hips slow, not stopping fully until he’s spent, wanting to fill you up with every last drop of his cum.

Once he’s sure that you’ve milked him of every last bit, Jake pulls out of you gently and you whimper at the feeling. Missing the fullness of him already, a sigh escapes your lips as a mixture of his release and yours begins to dribble out between your thighs.

Jake moves to flip the two of you over so that you’re lying on top of him, your head resting upon his chest. You can feel his still-fast heartbeat against your ear, getting slower by the minute as he recovers from his high.

Your own heart is racing too and your mind is hazy as you wind down, you’re not sure that anyone has ever fucked you so good. Jake’s arms wrap around you, one hand reaching up into your hair and gently massaging your scalp as the other softly rubs at the skin of your back.

The two of you lay there for a while, cuddling and quietly talking about everything and nothing. Sharing details about yourselves, wanting to get to know each other a little better.

At some point, you pick up the bottle of champagne from the floor again, still resting on Jake’s chest as you pass it back and forth. Taking sips, both of you pleasantly buzzed—from both the alcohol and the orgasms—as you talk about your jobs, your families, anything and everything that comes to mind.

Eventually, the topic of discussion turns to the events of the day and the wedding, and Jake has you giggling as he makes some joke at your brother’s expense.

Spending time with Jake is easy. You feel giddy, yet comfortable in his embrace and his cocky-but-charming personality hasn’t failed yet to make you smile.

“Maybe we should get married.” The sarcastic tone of Jake’s voice lets you know he’s obviously joking, but his words still have you lifting your head from his bare chest to look up at him, a bit bemused.

“It would make my entire life to see the look on Rooster’s face when he has to tell people that I’m his brother-in-law.” Jake continues, looking down at you with that signature smirk, the mischievous mirth in his eyes eliciting a giggle from you.

Even though he doesn’t know you very well yet, Jake can’t help but think it might actually be pretty nice to be married to someone like you. Sweet, funny, beautiful–and Jake finds he really enjoys spending time with you.

“Yeah, I’d pay good money to see that.” You agree, your body being gently bounced around with the movement of Jake’s chest beneath you as he joins you in your laughter.

“Ok, so I know it’s a little soon for marriage, but I would like to take you out.” For the first time since you met him earlier that day, Jake actually seems a bit… nervous? The smile on his face is a bashful one and you find it’s adorable. From the stories your brother had told about the cocky pilot, you never would’ve thought you’d find him so endearing.

“Like… in the murdering sense?” You try to alleviate his nerves with a bit of humor and Jake’s subsequent deadpan stare has you giggling again. You lean up to press a kiss to his jaw. He pretends to be annoyed by your antics, but you can tell he’s trying not to smile.

“On a date.” He drawls with a dramatic eye roll. You suck in a breath and plaster a pensive look on your face, pretending for a moment like you actually need to think about his offer. You exhale with an exaggerated sigh.

“Ok.” Your arms tighten around Jake’s torso and you press a kiss to his chest.

“Yeah?” Jake tries to keep his cool, but he has a hard time hiding the excitement in his voice. He knows you can probably feel the way his heart has sped up beneath your cheek that’s resting against his skin too.

“Yes. I’d love to go out with you.” You lift your head to gaze up at him once more, trying to bite back your grin. But Jake’s thumb reaches up to release your bottom lip from between your teeth, gently running over the tender skin as he gazes down at you with those glittering green eyes. Yeah, you could get used to that.

The two of you stay wrapped up together on the sofa a little while longer, still talking quietly so as to not disturb the peaceful atmosphere of the ambiently-lit suite. You’re still lying on Jake’s chest, your legs intertwined with his, lulled into a hazy state of comfort as one of his hands lightly runs through your hair, lazily twirling the locks around his finger. His other hand is softly tracing patterns onto the bare skin of your back.

You and Jake have been gone a long while now, and you know if you don’t return to the party soon, Bradley is going to come looking for you. Deciding you’d rather not have your brother find you in such a compromising position with one of his friends, you begrudgingly lift your head from Jake’s chest.

“We should probably head back out there.” You say with little enthusiasm. “My brother’s gonna think you kidnapped me and send out a search party.”

You grumble, pouting as Jake’s hand lightly caresses over your hair. Cute.

He laughs at your sour expression and hums in agreement, sitting up on the couch. The movement of his body taking you with him as you’re still wrapped around him.

Jake ponders if he should maybe tell you about Bradley warning all of the men at his wedding away from you—but ultimately decides against it as you seem so content, so at ease with him. He didn’t want to ruin your good mood or cause problems between you and your brother. And, he really likes you. He doesn’t want to fuck this up.

Maybe he’d tell you one day when Bradley is really pissing him off, he thinks to himself with a smirk.

Jake helps you to your feet before standing up himself and stepping back into his boxers. He tells you to wait a moment while he runs into the bathroom that’s at the back of the room.

While you’re in the midst of securely clasping your bra back over your chest, Jake returns with a damp cloth, kneeling down to gently clean up his cum that’s now dried down the inside of your thighs, leaving a soft kiss to the skin of your hip.

Once you’re all cleaned up, Jake helps you step into your lace underwear, bracing yourself with a hand on his shoulder for balance as your legs still feel a bit like Jell-O after the earth-shattering orgasms he had given you.

He stands to help you back into your bridesmaid’s dress, leaning down to place featherlight kisses to your shoulder blades as he closes up the zipper. Jake even helps smooth down your hair—surely a mess from your earlier activities and his hands running through it—leaving a chaste kiss to your lips before he moves to re-dress himself. This time forgoing his tie in favor of stuffing it into his pocket.

With your heels strapped around your ankles once more, you let Jake lead you out of the suite. Your hand joined with his and your cheek resting against his shoulder as you navigate your way, side by side, back to the ballroom.

When you reach the double doors, you tug at Jake’s hand to stop him before he can open them. The blonde’s cute, inquisitive look reminds you of a golden retriever puppy and it makes your heart flutter. You reach up to cup his cheeks, pulling him in for a brief, but passionate kiss.

“Sorry, I just really wanted to do that again.” You tell him with a nervous laugh and he lets out a satisfied groan.

“Don’t be sorry, sweetheart.” Jake pulls you back in and you can feel the smirk on his lips as he attaches them to yours. The two of you spend the next few minutes just standing there, making out outside of the entrance to the ballroom.

Mouths moving languidly together, and you don’t hesitate to grant Jake’s tongue access when it runs along the seam of your lips. Tongues swirling lazily around one another trying to memorize the taste. When you finally pull back, your lips are swollen, and both you and Jake are beaming.

The reception is coming to an end, and you make it back into the slowly emptying ballroom just in time to see the happy newlyweds making their rounds about the room, accepting congratulations and thanking their guests for coming.

As they come across you and Jake, Natasha is all smiles while Bradley’s expression drops into one of annoyance, his hazel-eyed glare directed at Jake.

Never one to be intimidated by his best frenemy, Jake’s mouth forms into that distinctive smirk, extending the hand that wasn’t holding yours toward your brother.

“Congratulations, Rooster.” Jake speaks confidently. The two of them shake hands, not dissimilar to how they did after the success of the Uranium mission. Except this time, Bradley isn’t smiling.

By the happy look on your face and the fact that you’re not glaring at him—or trying to hit him—Bradley realizes that Jake must not have told you about his earlier warning to his groomsmen. Though he’s still annoyed with Jake for going against his wishes, he guesses that’s for the best. Maybe Natasha was right.

“Thanks, man.” Bradley’s face softens just barely.

“But, just know, if you hurt my little sister, I won’t hesitate to shoot your plane out of the sky. We clear?” Your brother continues, still shaking Jake’s hand all the while. Natasha watches the whole exchange, trying not to laugh.

“Bradley-!” Eyes widening, you try to intercept but Jake stops you, giving your hand a light squeeze.

“No, no. It’s okay, Sweets.” You can hear the mirth in his voice when he says it, knowing he’s going to get a reaction out of Bradley.

“SWEETS?!” Your brother all but shrieks, ripping his hand away from Jake’s as if he’s been burned and Natasha is no longer able to hold back her laughter. The pouty glare he gives her in return ends up pulling a snicker out of you too. Jake chuckles haughtily and wraps an arm around your shoulders before addressing your brother again.

“I’m not gonna do anything to hurt her, Bradshaw. I promise. You have my word.” You smile sweetly up at Jake, delighted by his words.

Your brother grumbles in agreement, recognizing the sincerity in his friend’s voice in that moment, before the two of them shake hands once more. Then, Jake offers the bride a hug and his congratulations, and tells you he’ll give you a moment with you brother, that he’ll be waiting for you by the exit.

With Jake making his exit, your brother’s face finally softens as he turns his attention to you.

That is, until he glances down a bit and you know that he’s clocked the very obvious hickey blooming on the side of your neck when his expression hardens again. You can swear you see his eye twitch and you have to refrain from laughing. Luckily, for both of your sakes, he doesn’t bring it up.

Bradley just sighs before shaking his head. For the first time since the breakup, his little sister looks genuinely happy and if that’s the case, then he’s happy too.

“Hangman… really?” He scrunches his nose and at that, you simply shrug at him with an amused grin.

Your brother groans, “I don’t know what happened, and I don’t wanna know.”

“Deal.” The two of you share a laugh and Bradley pulls you into a tight bear-hug, which you return gratefully.

“Love you, sis.” He murmurs into the crown of your hair. “Love you too, Bradley.”

Natasha watches the sweet moment between her new husband and sister-in-law with a smile.

“I’m really happy for you, big bro. And so proud. Mom and Dad would be too.” Your arms tighten around him as you quietly deliver the sentiment.

You turn your gaze toward Natasha to let her know that you’re now addressing her as well. “Congratulations!”

When Bradley releases you from his embrace, Nat pulls you in for a hug as well. With that, they bid you goodnight and make your way back over to Jake who’s waiting for you by the ballroom doors.

Bradley opens his arm for his wife to step under, which Natasha does gladly, her own arm draping around Bradley’s waist as his moves to wrap around her shoulders. The couple watches on as you cross the room to reach the cockiest member of the Dagger squad.

“I actually think they’re kinda cute together.” Natasha’s tone is a jesting one, but there’s definitely some truth to her statement. Bradley just tilts his head up toward the ceiling, eyes clenched shut as he groans in response.

With the festivities coming to a close, you find yourself incredibly tired. After such a long day–and all the exertion with Jake that evening, you’re more than ready for a good night’s sleep. Fortunately for you, everyone was staying in the hotel at which the reception was held, so it wasn’t a long commute.

Despite your increasing exhaustion though, you were reluctant to bid Jake goodnight.

“So… I guess, if you want, you could walk me to my room? Or…” You trail off, leaving the ball in his court. A tad nervous now, blinking up at him with a bright-eyed, hopeful expression, unsure if Jake will get the hint.

But he definitely does, and the expectant look on your beautiful face makes him smile. What you don’t know is that Jake isn’t quite ready for his time with you tonight to come to an end either.

“Or… you could come back to mine?” He finishes the sentence for you, his grin morphing into more of a smirk, but his tone remains sincere. Placing your hands on his chest, you lean up to peck Jake’s lips.

“I’d love to.” You speak softly against his lips and Jake can feel you smiling. “Just don’t tell my brother.”

Your cheeky remark has Jake letting out a throaty chuckle, his breath warming your cheek before he briefly presses his lips to yours more firmly.

“How else am I gonna piss him off?” Jake jests and you retreat from the kiss, playfully smacking his chest. Shaking your head as the two of you share another laugh. His hands move to slide up the bare skin of your arms as you pull back and Jake can feel the goosebumps forming there.

He removes his suit jacket, leaving him in just his dress shirt, and carefully drapes it over your shoulders. The coat dwarfs your smaller frame, and Jake decides he loves the way you look all wrapped up in his clothes.

“Come on, Sweets. Let’s get you to bed.” Jake softly drawls. The look you give him is one of pure adoration as he takes your hand in his and leads you out into the halls of the hotel.

And though you’re most definitely tired, you have an inkling you’d be more than okay with spending a couple more hours wide awake with Jake when you get up to his room.

Thank you for reading! x

Taglist: @sebsxphia @wkndwlff @chaoticassidy @dempy @ohgodnotagainn @shanimallina87

also tagging a few others who reblogged the sneak peek of this story:

@sunlightmurdock @rosiahills22 @gigisimsonmars @wildxwidow @sarkasfics @roosters-girl <3

#jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #hangman seresin #jake seresin x reader #jake seresin smut #jake seresin x you #jake seresin x female reader #hangman seresin x reader #hangman x you #top gun maverick #hangman seresin x you #glen powell #jake seresin imagine #jake seresin oneshot #jake seresin x y/n #jake x lil bradshaw #my writing

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Text

Coming Up For Air | s1

pairing: aaron hotchner x childhood bsf!reader

summary: Hotch and his childhood best friend working together at the BAU: a slow burn across the seasons.

word count: 10.4k

warnings: canon!typical violence, mentions of abuse, death of a spouse, slow slow slow burn, specific episodes mentioned in this part are 1x01, 1x06, 1x07, 1x08, 1x15, 1x16, and 1x22

a/n: I started rewatching Criminal Minds from the beginning, and this is what came out of it heh. This is the first part in a little series I'm starting that follows Hotch and his childhood best friend in the BAU, beginning with the pilot. If all goes well, this will continue through the rest of the show, with ~1 part per season :) Title is from Coming up for air by Signals in Smoke

series masterlist

You haven't used your oven in over a year. It's not that you don't like cooking - because you do - you just haven't had the time. If you could, you would blame it on the extra hours you have had to put in after starting at the BAU, but that wouldn't be fair. Your transfer to the unit was the only thing that got you through his death at all.

After your husband was shot and killed in action while tailing a kingpin of one of the New York mobs, you couldn't bear to be in this house at all. You had gone back home to stay with your father for a couple of months, but eventually you had to get back to your real life. With a month remaining on your bureau-mandated leave, you returned to the home you had shared, before one of the lower-level mob soldiers misfired -

You didn't let yourself think about it for almost a year, but time heals all wounds. The poets were right. At least you hope they are.

Even back at home, you still couldn't bear to be there alone, other than when you were sleeping. That's why your peloton was gathering dust and your kitchen went untouched, until just now.

So, of course, the call from the office comes when you're making dinner. It takes five minutes to change into slacks and a button-up, and two more to toss your half-cooked vegetables in the trash, before driving down to headquarters.

A fourth girl has been taken in Seattle, and the local PD only now decided to invite your team. You know the BAU isn't well-liked by the other departments, but that doesn't mean you aren't effective.

When you enter the building, you rush through the I.D. check and jog over to the lecture hall, where Morgan and Reid are standing outside of a neighboring office like children waiting for their father to come and get them.

Shooting them both a thin-lipped smile, you step inside just as they finish discussing the unsub's pattern.

"They want you back in the saddle," Hotch says to the man beside him after greeting you with a nod.

Your eyes are so immediately drawn to Hotch that it takes you a moment to realize that you recognize the man standing next to him. You haven't seen him since the day you were assigned to the BAU, mostly because you were technically transferred to this unit because of his extended leave.

What was supposed to be one month became six, before Hotch informed you that your temporary placement would be permanent, if you were willing to stay in Virginia.

It was a no-brainer.

You turn your gaze to Jason Gideon as everyone in the room stares at him expectantly. He looks self-assured, but you're sure the confidence is a front. "They sure they want me?"

"The order came from the director," Hotch says simply.

"Well," Gideon states, "we'd better get started, then."

Hotch glances over at you as everyone files out of the room and you raise your eyebrows momentarily, a quick check-in between the two of you. He nods imperceptibly and it's enough for now. He didn't tell you Gideon was coming back today, but now isn't the time to give him hell for that.

***

Hotch is the last to board the plane, and he takes his usual seat beside you, this time in the aisle, a few rows away from the rest of the team.

"I was going to tell you," he says as soon as you close the case file in your hands. "The section chief wants me to evaluate him to see if he's ready to return to the team."

"That's a lot of pressure." They have to know that Gideon will be able to smell him out within the day. "You sure it won't get in the way?"

Hotch makes that face you hate, the one that says he knows you're deflecting. "I was going to tell you."

It doesn't take much for you to forgive him. It helps that you trust him completely, especially after everything he has done for you.

"Still," you smile, bumping his shoulder with yours, "it would have been nice to know about the sudden change to my job security."

You're mostly joking, but his frown is genuine. "Don't be silly. You'll always have a place on this team."

He takes everything so seriously these days. You suppose it's only fair, given the files he has to sort through on a daily basis. Picking which case deserves the team's attention the most.

But he wasn't always like this. You're the newest member of the team, but you've known Hotch longer than any of them.

You still remember the first time you met him, at eight years old. He was your first real friend at school, and you became inseparable easily. Your shared love for The Beatles and Law and Order made you fast friends, and as you grew older, your interests shifted in tandem.

Sometimes when you look at him, you still see that little boy who knew too much, but still managed to always make you laugh.

***

The team disperses soon after you land in Seattle. You've never had to come up with a profile in one afternoon, but it's also been a long time since your ticking clock to find the victim was just over a day.

When Gideon and Morgan head to the latest crime scene, you join Hotch and Reid to interview the victim's brother. The moment the three of you step into his house, his dog, Sandy, starts barking up a storm.

"It's what we call the Reid effect," Hotch smiles, walking over to pet her. "Happens with children, too."

You can't help but smile as well, peering over at Spencer, who looks about as uncomfortable as he usually does.

It doesn't escape your notice that the brother looks looser now. Hotch has a way with people that traces back to his childhood self. He was always wiser than his years, something you chalk up to his need to grow up faster than he should have, but his paternal instinct comes from practically raising his brother, Sean, after his dad's untimely death.

The casual interview reveals enough about the victimology that when you head back to the station, Gideon calls the officers in to explain the profile.

You can feel Morgan's agitation wafting off of him as he watches Gideon state his assumptions with startling clarity and confidence. Hotch, on the other hand, looks contemplative, which reminds you that he's been tasked with the returning agent's evaluation.

He can see your furtive glances in his direction, even as you try to remain secretive about your interest in his demeanor. He presses his lips together to keep from smiling as he thinks about how lucky you are that you went into profiling and not covert operations.

You have never been especially good at keeping your own thoughts or intentions to yourself around him. While some would call that a weakness in this field, he sees it as your greatest strength, because it clearly shows how much he can trust you.

As a kid, you were outspoken about every idea you had, and you used your strength and willpower to look out for him when he needed it. It took him a long time to admit how much he used to need you (maybe too long), but you always knew.

***

Gideon's profile leads to the arrest of Richard Slessman and Tim Vogel, and Elle manages to save the last girl while she's still alive. You catch your breath for the first time in 36 hours as you stand with Hotch in the shipyard, watching the paramedics and local police clear the scene.

"What are you going to tell them?" you ask under your breath as his gaze turns to Gideon, who is getting patched up in the back of an ambulance.

He had goaded the unsub into shooting him instead of the girl, but your mind can't seem to focus on the silver lining.

Hotch sighs, crossing his arms over his chest, as though to hold his coat closed against the breeze. "They want to know if he's fit to be a field agent again."

Normally, you would give him shit for using that tactic. Avoiding a question by providing more information. This time, you know he's just thinking out loud.

"What would you say?" Hotch asks as Morgan walks over and sits on a barrel next to you.

"Gideon saved her life," Derek shrugs, his eyes flashing to you for a moment. "That's good enough for me."

Hotch seems to ponder this for a second. "Do you know what Gideon means in Hebrew?"

"Mighty warrior," Reid interjects, popping in to the conversation with the subtlety of a tiger.

You're confused at first, but then you remember the baby names book that was sitting in Hotch's living room the last time you visited him. "You cannot let Haley name your child Gideon."

Hotch laughs suddenly, and you can tell you surprised it out of him. Your chest warms comfortably as he smiles, his cheeks flushing softly in the chill air.

He looks over at Gideon again, deciding in real time that he's going to recommend him to come back to the team. He would never admit it to you or anyone, but he knows that if your position on the team was in jeopardy from Gideon's return, he wouldn't have been able to complete his evaluation fairly.

It was Hotch who recommended you for the open position after he was promoted into Gideon's role as unit chief. You deserved the spot, of course, but Jeff's death had still been fresh and he knew better than most how much the job can take one's mind off of the other aspects of their life.

While Hotch watches Gideon, you watch him. You can tell from the look on his face that it's a done deal. Jason's coming back to the team. It will be a change of pace for everyone, but that doesn't mean it won't be good.

Having joined the team right after the bombing, you saw exactly how Gideon changed after getting the profile wrong, but so did everyone else. What people didn't talk about was how Aaron changed too. Rising into the rank. Growing to fill the hole that Gideon left in the unit, but somehow also shrinking into himself at the same time, because that's what this job does to you...it takes and it takes and it takes until you have nothing left to give.

But sometimes that's what you need: to give something up so you know you aren't losing everything.

***

Gideon settles into the team faster than you anticipated, and soon it's almost like he never left. Even though you can see the vein on Morgan's neck pulsate every time he hijacks a profile, you can't help but appreciate the support he gives to Spencer and Elle, both of whom are becoming incredible profilers before your very eyes.

That's also why you find yourself a little worried when Hotch tells you that Reid failed his weapons recertification.

"I thought you said you were helping him practice," you say as the two of you walk past security and toward the bullpen.

"I was," he emphasizes, before correcting himself, "I did. I'm sure he was just nervous."

You nod, pushing open the doors and spotting Reid sitting quietly at his desk. "He can test again in two weeks. He'll be fine."

When Morgan hands him a whistle with a quippy joke, you sigh into your coffee tumbler, but don't bother stepping in. He's being childish, but if you try to intervene, it'll just embarrass Spencer more.

"Okay," JJ starts, "Franklin Park, Des Plaines. Yesterday afternoon."

She dives into the case, but you have already read the file (and you know Reid has too) so you scoot your chair over to his desk and lean forward so only he can hear you. "I failed my first weapons certification at the bureau too."

Spencer looks up immediately, his face colored with surprise. "Really? You're one of the best shots I know."

You smile with a shrug. "The tests aren't real life. When it comes down to it, I get the job done. Just like you will."

He doesn't say anything for a moment, but then his lips curve up into a small smile. You both turn your attention back to the front just as JJ finishes explaining the case details.

"Wheels up in 30."

The flight to Illinois is filled with heated discussions about the bureau's fruitless history of trying to profile long distance serial killers.

"L. D. S. K.s are so rare, we haven't been able to build a standard profile," Hotch explains as the jet reaches cruising altitude.

Gideon chimes in immediately. "Here's what we do know: they're always male, and they frequently have law enforcement or military experience, and they always contact the police or the media."

Elle looks confused and you echo her sentiment as you lean your hip against her armrest. "To take credit or relive the experience?"

"Both," he says simply. "All serial killers attempt to relive the ecstasy they get from their killings. Some use souvenirs taken from the victims, and others return to the dump site to interact with the body. Both modes require contact with the victim, contact which, by definition, long distance serial killers don't have."

"Our unsub hasn't contacted anybody," you point out. "What do we do until then?"

"Sometimes it's not what the unsub does that reveals the profile. Sometimes it is what they do not do."

Reid glances up from the file in his lap, and you notice that he looks at Gideon first. "He doesn't kill his victims."

"Underkill's a unique signature," Hotch ponders, standing up and walking along the cabin. He only paces when he's deep in thought. "The question is, does he shoot them in the stomach intentionally just to wound them, or is he just aiming at the biggest part of the target?"

The team is silent as you take in this new analysis. You're not surprised when Gideon is the first to speak up. "Specifically, does the unsub lack the skill to make the head shot, or simply the will to take it?"

When the plane lands, you check out the last crime scene before spending the day talking to the local police and the victims' surgeons at the nearby hospital.

That night, when you check into your hotel room, the click of the door lock closing behind you is a welcome relief from the tension of the day. Many of the Des Plaines police officers were unhappy with the team's initial assessment, because it heavily implied that the unsub may have been a law enforcement official himself.

You wash your face and change into a tee shirt and a comfortable pair of sweatpants, before climbing into bed and opening the case file back up again. The rest of the team has also gone to their own rooms, but you can't help but wish you had another set of eyes looking at this with you.

As though reading your mind, a knock thuds on your door and you stand up quickly, in case it's an emergency. When you check the peephole, you see Hotch standing way too close to the door.

Unlocking it slowly so you don't startle him, you open the door to find him in still in a full suit.

"Is there a problem?" you ask immediately. "Do I need to get dressed?"

He shakes his head, glancing around the hallway so quickly that you almost miss it. "I was just looking over the profile and I wanted your opinion on some thoughts I had."

The corner of your mouth twitches and you open the door further to let him in. He doesn't miss a beat as he takes a seat on the armchair in front of your bed and flips open his notepad.

"I was thinking about the bullet we recovered on the scene," he says slowly, like he's thinking through every word he's saying.

You nod, sitting on top of the bed covers and crossing your legs under you. "Garcia called after you left the station. The bullet was a .223 fired from the M-4 variant of the M-16."

"That means he's military," Hotch says, reaching his hand out without taking his eyes off his notepad. You close the case file you had laid out and hand it to him. "M-4 is a shorter barrel than the M-16, so it's less accurate and a lot harder to fire, especially at these distances."

"This level of skill indicates specialized training. That means..."

"It means the underkill was on purpose," Hotch says, finishing your thought. "What is he trying to prove?"

You purse your lips as he sits up in the chair to give himself room to remove his jacket. His pinstriped button-down is slightly crinkled under his arms, but you can tell it was freshly ironed this morning.

"Maybe he's in a fast-paced occupation," you suggest, "which would fit with the profile that he has a big ego."

"Then we're back to law enforcement."

You lean forward, your eyes following his hands as they fidget with his cuffs and undo the buttons, one at a time. You've always been attune to every one of his movements, but maybe it's just because you've spent so much time around him.

"Hotch," you whisper-yell, snagging his attention from your case file, which he tosses back to you.

He hums and you take that as an invitation to continue speaking. "Be careful tomorrow, when you're giving the profile."

One of his eyebrows lifts and you can tell he's holding back a smile. "It's just in front of the Des Planes PD. You'll be there too."

"It's not that," you sigh, shaking your head. "Everything about this profile points to the shooter being either current or former law enforcement. I'd be surprised if they didn't take it personally."

His eyes flit up to yours, his brow furrowing. "I can handle myself."

"I'm sure you can, Hotch," you say with a breathy laugh. "Doesn't mean I don't still look out for you."

He pauses and it's like his whole body takes a beat. "I know."

***

You're talking to Dr. Landman with Derek, Elle, and Jason the next day when a gunshot rings out through the hospital. Last you checked, Hotch and Reid were in the E.R., but you haven't heard from them since you arrived.

"It's Phillip Dowd," a nurse informs you when you meet with local police outside the closed E.R. door.

After a quick call to Penelope, the profile becomes clear.

"He joined the army at 18," Gideon recites, pacing around the room in a vaguely reminiscent manner, "went to ranger school, did 6 years before being dishonorably discharged in '95 for conduct unbecoming. Obviously lied about it, joined the Arlington P. D."

"You were right," the police captain sighs. "He was a cop."

His hopeless tone is disheartening, and you find yourself upset for not the first time that your team was correct in their assessment.

After the initial commotion, the E.R. is silent except for a few muffled voices. You can't hear what's being said, but the lack of gunshots or loud noises is all that's keeping you from falling apart.

"It'll be okay," you hear whispered from next to you. You turn to see Derek, who presses his shoulder to yours briefly. "Hotch will know what to do."

You know there's nothing you can do from out here, especially with how precarious the situation inside is, but doing nothing has never been your strong suit.

"I know," you tell him, echoing your thoughts. "I just wish we could help."

Derek cocks his head at the S.W.A.T. team readying themselves to break the door down. "We can help. We need to give Hotch and the kid time to wear Dowd down."

His tone is light and you feel yourself laugh, ignoring the thickness that swells in your throat. "That shouldn't take long."

Derek bumps your arm again in a silent extension of comfort, and you mouth a silent thank you.

You can feel Gideon losing patience as he reasons with the captain, but he eventually buys them three minutes to do what they can. When the final five second countdown starts, you unconsciously hold your breath, only to be released when Hotch's voice calls through the door.

"Hold your fire!"

Your breath comes out like a gasp and you squeeze Derek's arm before rushing forward. Hotch stumbles past you with a murmur that sounds obscurely like "help Reid", so you push your way through the throng of civilians moving to escape until you see him.

"Spencer," you gasp, crouching down to help him into a standing position. You would never admit it to him, but ever since he joined the team, he's been something of a little brother to you. "What happened in here? Are you okay?"

"You were right," he says with a surprising steadiness to his voice. "I got the job done."

You don't ask what he means, knowing that Hotch will fill you in when the time is right. Instead, you decide not to fight the vaguely maternal urge rising within you and you pull him into a tight hug. It's more of a quick squeeze, because you don't want to push past his physical boundaries, but he doesn't complain, instead looking over at you with a small smile that's more than enough for now.

***

You find Hotch where the departed ambulance that patched Reid up was parked. All of the hustle and bustle of the paramedics and local police officers and bureau agents comes to a standstill as you walk over to where he's sitting on the edge of the curb.

"I heard what happened," you say as a way to announce your presence. "Can I sit?"

He nods without looking up, and you crouch down next to him, settling on the curb with your shoulder pressed to his. You can feel the tension in his muscles as he grips the sidewalk, his palms digging into the concrete like he could break through if he pressed hard enough. "Reid.."

"..is fine," you whisper, nudging him so he looks up to where Spencer and Jason are chattering excitedly. "He's more proud than anything."

He doesn't say anything, so you bump your knee against his. "I guess all of the physical training classes you made him take at the academy paid off."

He knows you know exactly what is running through his mind, so he doesn't bother trying to articulate it. Instead, he lets out the breath he didn't realize he was holding, and looks over at you. "Do you remember that self-defense class we took before law school?"

You're not expecting this question, and you almost laugh. "You mean the singular self-defense class you dragged me to before dawn in the summer before we started at Georgetown?"

He levels you with a look that you would think is serious if you didn't know him so well. "You don't regret it, though."

"No," you smile, your eyes blurring with emotion. That's where you met Jeff. "I don't."

He was your instructor that day. He only taught that class twice a week, between lectures at Georgetown Law, and it doesn't escape your mind that you so easily could've missed him. One day earlier or later and you never would've met him, never would've been his girlfriend, or his wife, or his widow.

Hotch remembers meeting him that day too. He had to literally come to your apartment and drag you out of bed to make the seven AM class that he had signed you both up for, and you had been grumpy the whole drive over.

There wasn't much, other than coffee, that could get you alert before eight in the morning, but the moment you walked into that gym, it was like you were wide awake. He spent the rest of the class trying not to look as the man he would later come to know as Agent Adler kept coming over to give you extra pointers, and he pretended that the coil of ice slithering up his spine was there just because he was watching out for you.

When he found out the two of you had started dating, he continued to pretend the nausea rising in his stomach was from the day-old sandwich he had had for lunch, because it wasn't fair. Especially since he was with Haley, and he was happier than he had ever been, even if the new law school course load was making it harder to see her as often as he wanted to.

But eventually, your happiness with him overpowered every protective urge he felt, and he realized that even if there was a feeling in his gut that he didn't recognize when he saw you two together, Jeff was perfectly suited for you.

***

"He's so gorgeous!" JJ coos, her hands twitching at her sides like she's trying not to reach forward and take the baby out of Haley's hands.

She brought Jack, their newborn son, in to work today to show the team, and Hotch looks prouder than you've ever seen him. "Thank you."

"If you find baldness and wrinkles attractive."

"Reid!" you chastise, swatting at him. He dodges your hands without even looking.

"Look at his widdy biddy nose," Garcia squeals, before turning to Morgan with an inquisitive look. "Don't you want one of these?"

He just laughs as he rests his chin on her shoulder. "Mm, I'll stick to practicing."

"Congratulations," Elle chimes in before returning to Gideon's side to continue discussing the new case that came in. She's always on top of things, and it's something you respect greatly about her.

"Thanks," Hotch smiles, his gaze returning to Jack after looking away for only a moment. Jack is like a siren, the way each of his little sounds or movements holds Hotch's attention so steadily. He's the most focused of all of you, but you've still never seen him this enamored. "She's amazing. I'm a little terrified."

"You're glowing," you tell Haley as the rest of the team heads to the briefing room. "How is it that you had a baby just a few weeks ago?"

"You're sweet," she smiles, before tilting her head forward. "Do you want to hold him? You're practically his aunt."

You gasp quietly, so as not to wake little Jack. "That is a title I will carry proudly. And yes, I would love to hold him."

Haley hands him to you slowly, and you make sure to support his head carefully as you cup your arms around him. He looks so much like Haley that you almost make a joke about Hotch's genes not even putting up a fight, but that nose...that nose has Hotch written all over it.

When you glance back to where the team left from, you see him turn back at the same moment and offer you an encouraging smile.

"How are you holding up?" you ask Haley, barely able to focus on your surroundings with a newborn in your arms. Maybe there is something to the siren thing.

"Jack's been incredible. He barely cries, it's kind of a godsend...but I do wish Aaron could take time off with me."

You give her what you hope is your most comforting smile. "We've been super swamped with cases here, but in all my years working with him, I have never seen him so eager to leave every night."

She laughs, a pretty sound you remember from your youth. "I know. I feel so unfair when I complain about these things, but I appreciate you humoring me."

"Not at all," you assure her, glancing back down at Jack, who is mid-yawn. "I understand completely. If I had one of these little guys, I wouldn't be able to think about anything else."

You hear her breath catch and you open your mouth to reassure her that it's fine, but she is already reaching forward to squeeze your arm. "You and Jeff would have made amazing parents."

When you both joined the bureau, you were so busy with work that kids weren't on your mind at all. It wasn't until you got settled at the BAU, and Jeff found his place with organized crime, that you even started talking about it.

You want kids, don't you?

Only a few. Maybe four or five. Yeah, five's a good number.

"I should get back to the team," you say softly, blinking away the memories.

Haley sees your face and she smiles sadly as she takes Jack back from your arms. "I'll see you soon. Tell him I'm heading home, will you?"

You nod and watch the elevator doors close in front of her, before joining the team.

***

"I can't believe you went bar hopping without me," Derek shakes his head, feigning offense as he leans so far back in his chair you're afraid it may tip over.

"I think hopping is kind of a strong word," you say, glancing over at Elle, who is perched on the edge of your desk. "We only had one bar in mind, but it closed earlier than we thought, so we went somewhere else after."

"This was a much needed girl's night," Elle grins, patting Morgan on the shoulder as he continues to pout. "We'll invite you next time."

"How was your weekend, Dr. Reid?" you ask, turning around to face him.

Spencer doesn't look up from his crossword.

You say his name again, recalling the attention of Derek and Elle, who had started talking about some trip they've been planning for what feels like months.

When he still doesn't look up, you pick up one of the BAU-provided pens on your desk and chuck it at him, just hard enough to bridge the gap between your desks, but not so hard that it hurts on impact.

"Ow!" Spencer yelps anyway, glancing up with a look that's somewhere between confusion and indignation. He picks the pen up off the ground and turns it over to see the tiny insignia on the cap. "This is FBI property."

"How was your weekend, Spencer?" you ask again, ignoring him. "Didn't you say you had some fun stuff planned?"

"I did," he lights up, instantly forgetting about the pen incident. "My local movie theater was showing reruns of the first season of the original Star Trek, so I got to experience it on the big screen."

Derek laughs and walks back over to his desk next to yours. "We have very different definitions of fun weekend plans, kid."

You're about to tell Derek that no one wants to hear what his idea of fun is when the office door upstairs flies open and Hotch and Gideon walk out.

Reid hands you back your pen, and Derek sits up in his chair so fast it's almost comical.

"We have another case," Hotch announces before coming to a stop.

Gideon takes it away. "Our unsub is male, intelligent, organized and methodical. He has the confidence of a man who's been killing for a long time."

"Only victim removed from the scene is Freddy Condore indicating some tie to him."

Hotch turns to you. "You, Elle, and Reid stay on Condore's background with Garcia. The rest of us will head to the crime scene."

You nod before standing up. "Let's go, kids."

Penelope's lair is just as eccentric as you remember it.

"Take a seat," she instructs before logging into her computer and opening up her criminal history database. "Just don't get too comfortable."

Your lips quirk up as Elle flashes her eyes at you, and you nod your head at the empty chair on Garcia's opposite side. Reid is already sitting on a desk chair by the back, spinning in aimless circles as he rattles off a list of markers to search for.

After a minute, Penelope stops typing. "Credit card receipts show Freddy loved crab cakes, preferred light beer and used to spend his Thursday nights with a woman in Fells Point."

You pick up a stress toy shaped like a tomato from one of her shelves and bounce it in your palm, just for something to occupy your hands.

"What about his associates?" Elle asks, grabbing a pen with a pom-pom on the end and poking it at Spencer's knee.

"Most of them have criminal records."

Elle glances up. "That much I guessed."

Penelope frowns, and looks pointedly at the pen in her hand.

"She's holding the tomato!" Elle complains, throwing a finger at you.

You lift up your hands in surrender, dropping the stress toy. "Thanks a lot, Greenaway."

"Anyway," Reid interrupts, to everyone's surprise, "One of these guys is particularly interesting. Pull up James Baker's rap sheet."

Penelope turns back to her computer as Spencer reads over her shoulder. "He spent time in juvenile detention for attempted murder, was released at age 21, and then subsequently arrested for, and this is in order, armed robbery, petty theft, burglary, narcotics sales, and rapе."

"What's so interesting about that?"

"When it comes to psychological behavior, anything is possible but this criminal history? It just isn't probable."

Elle nods in agreement. "I mean, as a minor, he began with attempted murder and then devolved into pettier crimes?"

"It's the criminal history of a fractured schizophrenic with multiple personality disorder," you sigh. "It just does not make sense."

***

Hotch calls you into his office when he and Morgan return from Baker's address. You can tell something is off before you even step through the door, so you shut it behind you and take a seat in front of his desk.

"What's going on?" you ask, your eyes glancing over his face to see if his micro-expressions can give you a hint. "What's wrong?"

He looks up with a sigh, his hands clasped on his desk. "Baker's place was an artificial dwelling, and the weapon we recovered on the scene was standard law enforcement issue."

It takes you a few seconds to comprehend what he's trying to say - a few seconds longer than usual - and your breath stutters in your throat. "He was undercover?"

"That's what it looks like," Hotch agrees. "I wanted to inform you before telling the rest of the team."

You nod, pressing your eyes closed for a beat.

He missed his pick-up, Mrs. Adler.

We'll call you as soon as we know more.

The memories start to flood back in and you squeeze your eyes shut tighter before opening them. Hotch looks blurry for a moment until your eyes adjust to the light again.

"Does organized crime know where he is?" you ask, desperately needing to fill the silence.

He looks down at the case file. "We assume so, but it's not like they would tell us. They weren't too happy that we were taking on this case at all, and now we know why."

"Maybe they'll talk to me," you suggest, even though the idea of talking to Josh Cramer makes you taste bile. You haven't seen him since a month after the funeral. It's not for his lack of trying, you just couldn't stomach looking at any of them after what happened. One missed call turned to ten and eventually they stopped trying.

There's a piercing pain behind your eyes and you squeeze them shut for a momentary relief. "It was only supposed to be three months."

Hotch's brow furrows and you don't look up at him just yet. You can already picture his expression, the anguish you know he feels for you whenever you bring up Jeff.

"It was a three month operation," you continue, knowing you won't be able to discuss it later if you stop talking now. "That's all we signed up for. Three months away from me and then he was on leave for the rest of the year, so that we could focus on us again. Maybe even start a family."

Your voice cracks on the last word and you tilt your head down to hide your face. He hates it when you cry, but that's not fair. He knows how important it is to get your emotions out, so they don't pile up inside of you, but if he had his way, you would never have had a reason to cry in the first place.

"I hadn't seen him in over a month when he was..."

He can hear the tightness in your voice and he resists the overwhelming urge to reach his hand out and take yours. You're sitting a foot back from the desk, and it's not he could reach you from here anyway, but his fingers still ache.

"I don't want to blame them, Aaron," you sigh. Your words sound watery, and he pulls a handkerchief out of his inside jacket pocket and hands it to you. He's almost surprised when you accept the gesture, pressing the cloth square under your eyes to catch the tears leaking out. You were so self-reliant as a kid, never wanting or needing anyone else's help. "I don't want to blame them, but I do. I can't help it, I just do."

Someone else would have consoled you. They would have assured you that feeling this way was natural, and that no one could blame you for feeling what you do, but that isn't who you two are. "Jeff wouldn't."

His name is like a dagger to your heart. You practically wince as Hotch digs further. "That team was his family, just like we are yours. He wouldn't blame them, not for this. Not for something he chose."

Something he chose. This is why you don't let yourself remember that day. This is why you kept that day - the day you got that horrible call - locked up inside your brain, where not even you could reach it. Because if you let yourself think about it and remember, then you will remember that it wasn't really Cramer or his unit or the bureau that you blamed. It was him.

For choosing to miss his pick-up. For choosing to go undercover. For choosing to join organized crime.

You take a deep breath and re-adjust yourself in the uncomfortable chair Hotch refuses to replace, even though it's literally splitting at the seams. Something about your tax dollars hard at work. "What are you going to do about Baker?"

He lets you change the subject. "We have to contact Agent Cramer before-

"What the hell is wrong with you people?"

Speak of the devil and he shall appear.

"Sorry?" Hotch frowns, both of you standing up immediately.

Cramer doesn't take his eyes off Hotch as he seethes with anger. "I told you, this is my case! You ran my agent through IBIS?"

"Because I wanted to know who he worked for and now that I do, I'd like to talk to him."

"You don't have him?"

You can hear your heartbeat in your skull.

Hotch looks at you then, and finally Cramer notices your presence. "Y/N...it's been a while."

Your lips press into a thin line. "Almost two years." The anger you've been trying to avoid seeps into your voice against your will and you sigh, returning to the investigation. "How long has Baker been missing?"

"About 12 hours."

"You think he ran?" you ask, watching Cramer closely as his jaw ticks.

"No, Jimmy's too experienced to run without contact."

He realizes his misstep immediately and his shoulders fall. To his credit, he doesn't break eye contact, even as his expression softens. "That's not what I meant. All I'm saying is that I think someone's keeping Jimmy from calling in."

You can feel Aaron looking at you, but you avoid his line of sight. If you're going to have to interact with organized crime, you might as well make yourself useful. "We all want the same thing, Cramer: to get Baker back to his family."

You wait outside as he explains the situation in more detail to Hotch and Gideon, and you're surprised when he's the first to leave. "Can we talk?"

Hotch comes out behind him and raises his eyebrow for a fraction of a second, a check-in. Swallowing thickly, you nod your head and follow him down the hall to the top of the stairs.

"I'm sorry I haven't reached out recently," he says as soon as you're out of earshot of the others. "You know Jeff was one of our top guys."

Your eyes shut at his name, as though someone clapped their hands too close to your face. It's almost laughable how sure you were that you were past your grief. You passed the bureau's psych evaluation after your six month leave with flying colors (because your team practically wrote the answers yourselves), and as each new day passed and you weren't so debilitated by just the thought of him, you thought it meant you were fine. Because time heals all wounds. At least it's supposed to.

"I know," you whisper scratchily, before clearing your throat. "I know that. And it's okay. We've all been busy." You look down at the bustling bullpen where his agents are interacting with your team. "Clearly."

Then you remember you're job here in the first place. "We really are just trying to help. It wouldn't hurt to keep us involved."

Cramer sighs and you know he won't refuse. "We'll loop you in."

***

James Baker is found and Vincent Perotta gets taken into custody, but you can still hear the end of the interrogation ringing in your ears.

"You were just responding to what you learned, Vincent.

When you grow up in an environment like that, an extremely abusive and violent household... it's not surprising that some people grow up to become killers.

And some people grow up to catch them."

You can't pinpoint exactly what you're feeling, but if you had to guess, it would be sorrow. Sorrow for that little boy who got dealt the worst hand you can imagine, and still turned into the best version of who he could've been.

Hotch can't get the interrogation out of his mind either. He had grabbed his briefcase and headed out to the elevators as soon as Perotta was taken away, in the hopes of avoiding everybody. He's about to let out his breath when a hand reaches between the doors and sends them flying open again.

Normally your appearance is a welcome sight, but tonight, he's had enough talking. Perotta took everything he had to give, and then some, and he doesn't know if he has the strength to go through the proceedings again with you.

"I just want to get home," he says as you stand next to him without a word and face the doors. To my family.

You don't say anything as the little fluorescent floor number ticks down - has it always been this slow - and he feels his nerves tighten with agitation. You're never silent, especially not about something like this.

Just before the elevator reaches the second floor, you reach forward and pull the emergency stop button. He whispers your name, half irritated half relieved, and you step in front of him, focusing your eyes on his. It's a classic profiler technique, both to mentally establish trust and to physically block him from the keypad.

"You're a great father, Aaron."

His mind flashes back 25 years, but he squeezes the hand in his pocket into a fist to keep himself from succumbing to the memories. "I'm trying."

He knows what you're doing, and he would normally be open to a healthy exchange between two adults, but tonight he just can't. It's too fresh.

You seem to understand at least a fraction of what he's trying to convey. Your next words are gentle. "That already makes you a thousand times better than him."

That almost makes him smile. "You can say his name, you know."

You shrug, looking at him with a glint in your eye. "Honestly, I don't think I can. I'm afraid I'll turn into a pile of ash, with the fury your father instills in me."

That's what gets him. He coughs out a laugh that echoes around the elevator, and you return to his side, giving him a moment to breathe on his own.

This time, when his mind spirals back to his childhood, he's not as equipped to block it. The memories come in flashes, a blackening bruise on his abdomen, a split lip explained away through roughhousing in the backyard, the thin scars on his hands and elbows as he finally started to fight back. He would've taken it all forever if he had to, if it meant that he could keep the horrors away from the people he loved. "I really should go."

"Yeah." You push the emergency stop back into place and the elevator hits the ground floor in no time. "I'll see you tomorrow, Hotch."

He steps out, half expecting you to follow him. Instead, the doors close and he's by himself again, and he suddenly can't remember why he wanted to be alone in the first place.

***

When the Keystone Killer is finally caught after 18 years of inactivity, he finds himself expecting for there to be some sort of celebration, either in the form of a commendation, or a much-needed break. Instead, what he gets is a mountain of paperwork.

He usually doesn't mind the paperwork that comes after a long case. It's a helpful way for him to sort through his thoughts on what went down, and to learn from mistakes that were made along the way, whether in the profile or in the capture of the unsub.

Lately, paperwork has felt like an added torture to the long hours he already spends at work. It's not that he wasn't excited about going home before, but ever since Jack was born, he hasn't been able to get out of the office fast enough. But being the unit chief of the BAU has its responsibilities, and this is one of them.

He's drowning in consultation files and case reports when you knock on his door, two coffees in hand.

"Thought that was you," he says, finishing the sentence he was writing.

You frown, setting one steaming cup down on his desk. He hasn't even looked up yet. "How'd you know? Or do you just say that to everyone who walks in here?"

His lip twitches and he puts his pen down. "I could smell the coffee. It always smells the same when you make it."

"Oh?" You weren't aware you had a method. "And how's that?"

"Burnt."

You take the lid off your cup and chuck it at him with surprising accuracy. It would have thwacked him in the forehead if he hadn't swatted it aside with his stupid catlike reflexes.

"What are you working on?" you ask after taking a scalding sip of perfectly brewed coffee.

He looks up for a beat before diving back into the file he was skimming. "Paperwork for the Keystone Killer case."

"But we just finished that," you point out before reaching forward and taking the file out from under his nose.

He huffs. "I was...looking at that."

"This is a report on what happened a couple of hours ago," you say, ignoring his remark. "You can easily do this tomorrow, or later this week."

"It's fresh in my mind now. I don't want to forget any details."

You shrug in a motion that says 'fair enough'. "Or, you could actually go home before midnight for once."

You slide another file off the top of his pile and flip it open, reading over the notes Hotch has scribbled in the margins. He's so meticulous about his job that you almost forget he was promoted just a little over a year ago. He became unit chief at the same time that you joined the team, so you didn't get to see him in his early days, but looking at him now, you almost can't imagine it. It's like he's built for this, for taking responsibility and leading people with kindness and respect.

"Elle said something on the plane today," he says suddenly, jerking you from your thoughts.

You close the file and look up as he runs a hand over his head, pushing his thick hair back just for it to bounce forward again. "She said that she's scared she's going to look up and see that her life has passed her by while she was chasing monsters."

Something cold runs through your veins and you sit up straighter in your chair. "And what did you say?"

"I told her the truth."

You smile in an effort to keep your eyes from shining. "What, that we're all doomed?"

He looks at you candidly. "That this job will eat you up if you let it." Your smile falls and he continues. "You just can't let it."

"I'm sure Elle loved hearing that."

He shrugs. "She was surprisingly receptive."

That gets a laugh out of you, even if the good humor doesn't last long. "I don't know how you do it."

"Do what?"

"This job, while also being a husband, and a father." You sigh, and you can almost feel the weight of the air as it leaves your body. "When I go home, I don't have to be anything to anyone. Most of the time it feels awful, but sometimes, after an especially bad case, I'm almost relieved when I can go home and just check out."

You aren't talking about him anymore, and he can tell. He doesn't mind, if this is what it will take for you to work through your emotions.

"We were gonna start trying for a baby."

That surprises him. Not that you wanted to be a mother - he knows that - but that he didn't know you were already thinking about it, especially because of how you grew up. You don't talk about it often, but after losing your mother to a drunk driver when you were ten, you almost transformed into her, becoming the emotional support for your family when there was no one else to fill that role.

You press your lips into a thin line and take a deep breath, your coffee cold and forgotten on the desk in front of you. "We had been talking about it for years, but with the paths our careers were taking, there just wasn't enough time before then." Your eyes look far away, and you don't seem to notice that your lips have unconsciously curved up into a reminiscent smile. "Jeff wanted five kids. Five. God, can you imagine?"

He can, but he doesn't say anything, because he knows you aren't looking for a response. Just for someone to listen.

"I'm an only child," you say with a laugh. "I don't even know what it's like to have one sibling, let alone four." But Jeff had come from a huge family, and he had wanted you to experience that. He loved how full his home always felt growing up, never without someone to talk to. Now you won't ever get to experience that. "I guess I just wish sometimes that we had tried earlier."

"You'll have it someday," Hotch says simply, practically reading your mind. "If that's what you want, you'll have it."

"I waited so long," you whisper, closing your eyes for a long moment. "I was just so afraid that I wouldn't do it right, because I didn't have my mother anymore to help me."

"You would've been a great mother," he assures you, his voice confident. "One day, you will be."

Your breath comes out like a gasp and you clear your throat to keep the tears at bay. "How do you know?"

"I just know."

***

When you push through the doors to the bullpen the next morning, you are greeted by a familiar head of blonde hair.

"Sean?"

He turns around slowly, clearly recognizing your voice, and pulls his lips up into a smile that you return. "Hey, Y/N, how's it going?"

You weren't close to him as a kid, mostly because of the age gap between him and Hotch. You had tried to make more of an effort after graduating college, but Sean was fierce in his convictions, and there were a lot of things he didn't understand about his childhood that you certainly weren't going to explain to him now.

"Good, good," you say, leading him away from the throng of staring women. You shoot them a look that makes them disperse. "You here for your brother? He's upstairs."

He nods, glancing up at the closed office door. You start to lead him to the stairwell when he stops in his tracks and turns to you. "What mood's he in?"

"Why?" you ask, your brow furrowing. "You got bad news? Nothing I need to worry about, I hope."

Sean shakes his head, glancing up at the closed door again. "Nothing like that. I'll just go up."

You let him walk up on his own, knowing he doesn't want you getting involved in whatever he's thinking about. Before you have a moment to catch your breath, the three women return to your side.

"That's Hotch's brother?" Penelope asks, standing so close you can feel her breath on your ear.

"Maybe Hotch is adopted."

"What do you mean?" you ask, unconsciously glancing up the stairs. "They're honestly pretty similar." You're only half joking. They don't look anything alike, but that Hotchner brand of righteousness runs deep.

JJ frowns. "I don't see it."

"Yeah, he looks...like that," Penelope murmurs, before looking at you. "Did you know him when you were younger? Was he hot then too?"

You choke on your own spit. "He was nine years old when I left for college, so...no."

Her eyes widen and she lifts her hands in surrender.

"Ooh, here he comes."

You look up to see Sean storming down the stairs, Hotch hot on his heels.

"Sean, listen to me."

He turns so fast, you're afraid they're going to crash into each other. "Don't profile me, Aaron."

Sean stomps out of the bullpen while Hotch watches him leave, and you can't get the striking feeling of deja vu out of your head. Two boys, 15 years younger than they are now, standing in the same positions, with the same looks on their faces.

You imagine that you and Hotch probably act the same way around each other as when you first met, at eight years old.

The memory comes easily, even with more than two decades of time standing in the way. The little boy with dark hair who had sat next to you on the school bus, just because there were no other empty seats available that day.

You hadn't said anything for the first few stops, just watched him out of the corner of your eye as he nodded his head unconsciously to the music coming out of his large headphones. Eventually, curiosity got the better of you and you tapped on his shoulder. "What are you listening to?"

He had taken his headphones off quickly, as though caught in the act. "What?"

You repeated your question before leveling him with a pointed stare that meant 'there is a correct answer'. You were a feisty kid, and you weren't always the best at making first impressions, so his steady response impressed you. "Beatles. Revolver album."

"I love that one!" you had gushed, leaning in closer without a warning to press your ear to one of the speakers on his headphones. "Is this Yellow Submarine?"

He had nodded, the confusion in his eyes slowly transforming into delight. "You know their stuff?"

"Of course. My favorite's Eleanor Rigby."

He had frowned then. "That one's too sad."

You weren't surprised by his opinion. You had yet to find a boy your age who could appreciate serious music, but liking The Beatles was a start, at least.

"I'm Y/N," you had said, extending your hand like you were starting a business meeting.

He shook your hand furtively. "Aaron."

"Maybe I'll see you around."

The school bus had stopped at your street then, and you had gotten up without another word to this boy, who would one day become your best friend in the world.

Luckily, the next day, Aaron chose to sit next to you again, this time with a second pair of headphones to attach to his compact cassette deck. Two days turned to three, and before long, you had a new friend.

***

"I can't imagine what two weeks away from this place is gonna feel like," you sigh, packing some essentials into your bag and snapping it shut. "I might actually miss you guys."

"Not me," Morgan grins, before pressing a kiss to your cheek as he zips around you. "Two weeks of pure heaven with nothing but young, beautiful adults looking to make vacation memories."

"Your friend's resort better be as nice as you say it is," Elle says sternly as she wiggles her finger at Derek, who is busy inviting Reid to join their vacation.

"Thanks, but I'm going home," he says quickly, without looking at any of you. "Have a good one, guys."

"I'll head out too," you announce, grabbing your things and following him to the elevators. "Wait up, Spence."

He doesn't seem to hear you, but you slip through the doors just before they close. "You okay?"

"Huh?" he says, finally looking up. "Oh, yeah. I'm just not looking forward to the Nevada heat."

You can tell he's lying, but you don't want to press him right before the long break. "You can always call me if you need anything. Seriously."

"Yeah," he nods. "I know."

You wave goodbye to him in the parking lot, and you're back in the silence of your home by the end of the hour.

The rest of your day is spent lazing around the house, and you're asleep when you hear a knock at your door. After Jeff's death, you started keeping your gun in your nightstand, more out of a general sense of security than any specific acute fear, but its proximity during late night calls has given you the peace of mind you needed to finally sleep through the night.

Lifting it from the drawer, you hold it behind your back as you tiptoe to your front door and look through the peephole. When you don't see anyone, you carefully pull the door open, only to find a small packet sitting on your welcome mat with your name scrawled on the top.

After bringing it inside the house and locking the door again, you pry open the seal and extract a large piece of paper covered in a series of numbers and dots.

That's when the phone rings.

***

"How's it going?" you ask Reid and Morgan as you enter the conference room where all of the Fisher King's clues have been laid out. Neither of them have taken their eyes off the paper you brought in since you tacked it up on the board.

As expected, Reid doesn't look up. "The answer to what book we need has to be in here."

"Yeah," Derek sighs, glancing over at you, "but we sure as hell can't see it."

"Yet."

You look at the numbers again, hoping that your short walk to the coffee station and back would have been enough to unlock something new in your brain. Nothing. "The answer has to be based on specific details of each person's clue." A small sound turns your attention to the couch, where Elle is lying on her side. "Is Elle asleep?"

"I'm awake!" she starts, sitting up lethargically.

At the outburst, Hotch walks into the room and points at her bags. "I'm sending you home. You need to get some rest."

"No-"

"We won't do anything without you, I promise."

"Elle, seriously, we're not any closer than we were."

She nods, her lack of sleep seeming to dawn on her as she yawns again.

"Anderson," Hotch calls out, before you stop him. "What is it?"

"I can take her home," you suggest, looking over your shoulder as she lugs her bags down the hall with bleary eyes. He looks like he wants to protest, so you speak up before he has the chance. "She barely knows Anderson. I'll make sure she's settled, and then you can send him to watch her house, so I can come back here."

"I don't know if that's a good idea," he sighs, his eyes still trained on Elle's silhouette lingering by the elevator. "We may need you here."

You cock your head at Reid and Morgan, who have been sitting in the same positions for so long, you're surprised their necks haven't locked. "It's like they said. We haven't made any progress in over an hour. I'm not helping here."

He still looks unsure, but you know it's just worry. He'll always worry about you. "Okay, go. Call me in an hour to check-in."

You dip your head in a nod and jog through the bullpen to catch Elle as she's heading out.

"So you're my bodyguard, huh?"

You laugh, pressing the button for the ground floor. "Something like that."

"Good," Elle says, trying and failing to stifle a yawn, "you're much more fun than Anderson."

"Prettier, too."

The car ride to her house starts off silent, but eventually you break your internal promise to let her come to you. "How are you feeling after last night?"

She just shrugs. "It was more annoying than anything. I'm just glad I got to enjoy at least some of my vacation."

"I heard there was blood all over your room," you point out lightly, trying to broach the subject in a delicate manner. "That can't have been fun to wake up to."

"It was all on the outside. That's part of why they weren't able to hold me. That, and Hotch's lawyer chops."

You raise an eyebrow, glancing over at her as you pull over to the sidewalk. "His lawyer chops?" You know he used to be a prosecutor before joining the bureau, but you never got to see his skills in action.

"Yeah," Elle gushes, her face brightening considerably, "you should have seen the way he walked in there. Those beat cops had no idea what hit 'em. He was in full prosecutor mode, went all rainmaker on them until they released me."

You can imagine it. If any of you were in trouble, he wouldn't let anything get between him and your safety. "I wish I could've seen that."

When you put the car in park, you help Elle with her bags and walk her up to her door, where she insists that she'll be fine on her own.

"I promised I would wait with you until another agent could come and relieve me," you emphasize, instinctively scanning the vicinity around her home as she walks inside and drops her things on the floor.

"In about thirty seconds, I'll be passed out on this couch right here," she points at the window seat behind her, "so you'll just be watching me sleep for an hour."

You open your mouth to argue but she cuts you off. "Y/N, I'll be fine."

If there's one word to describe Elle, it's stubborn, so you let her shut the door behind her and you walk back to your car. Even if she won't let you sit with her inside, you still can't bring yourself to start the ignition, so you lean your seat back halfway and close your eyes, just for a few moments.

You haven't gotten much sleep either, and you're about to doze off when you hear a loud thud from outside the car. Jerking up, you undo the clasp of your holster and push open the car door. The world is silent, except for the rustling of leaves in the wind, but you start making your way up the drive, just to be sure. There's another thud, quieter this time, and you reach for your sidearm as you ascend her porch steps. Then comes a gunshot.

You start running.

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moongreenlight · 2 months

Text

More childhood best friend!Gaz headcanons because I cannot stop thinking about him

He’s your valentine every single year. Started as his dad trying to teach him proper etiquette when he was young and just never stopped. A bouquet of flowers on your stoop and a cheap card he scratches a note into. Never signs his name. Just ends ‘xx.’

He chaperoned your first real date in high school because your dad paid for his tank of gas. The guy you were keen on never called you back after. It took you until you were seventeen to realize that it was probably because Kyle was sitting on the same side of the booth as you and spoon feeding you bites of dinner.

He also ruined your first real relationship when he beat your boyfriend to asking you to formal (a full two months early). You tried to explain that it didn’t mean anything, but he just couldn’t understand. Kyle said it was for the better while you sobbed into his shoulder. “Tosser can’t cope with the fact he’ll always be second place. Better not to waste your time.”

His basic training was 26 weeks away from home. He went immediately after picking up his diploma. It was the most miserable summer of your entire life. Spent primarily waiting by the mailbox for the postman to deliver your daily letters back and forth. He’s started signing off “Garrick. x.”

Both of your families went to his graduation, but his mother insisted you were the one to tap him out. You barely recognized him, like the summer where his family took a month long vacation and he came back a full four inches taller. He’s bigger now, his shoulders permanently rolled back, but he still carries himself with that same cool ease.

He barely stays long enough to say his hello’s to everyone until he takes you back to the car and lays you out in the backseat. Griping the whole way about how “you’d be in a hurry, too. Couldn’t even get away with a wank in the shower.” And “s’your duty to the country. You wanna thank me for my service, don’t you?” You swear the two of you fit easier six months ago, but now he’s cramped between the seats. Caged in tight. His head bumps the window each time he snaps his hips into you.

You seriously considered moving close to base when you found out he was being permanently relocated after joining the task force, but he wouldn’t hear a word about it.

So you settle on sending each other disposable cameras back and forth. You’ve got a picture of him on a mission in Amsterdam framed up in your hall. He’s got a cigarette hanging out of his big, toothy smile, posing like an overexcited tourist in front of a lingerie shop with a display window that made your ears hot when you first saw it.

He called you a few days after his incident with the helo in Urzikstan. Boasted his adventure with only a whispering tremble on the soft underside of his tough facade. Carried on until you wretched dryly into the receiver. Working yourself up into sick with worry even though he promised he was fine, just sticking to the ground for a bit.

Even though you’re seeing him less nowadays, he’s still somehow coming between you and any romantic pursuits you make. You chalk it up to coincidence most of the time, but a blind eye can only be turned so far.

He seems to have a sixth sense for when you’re on a date or a one night stand. Sending texts and pictures that could be misconstrued as flirty to someone who didn’t know the dynamic at just the wrong moment every time. And there was the one time where he sent flowers to your desk at work just a few days after you’d said something about a coworker getting sweet on you.

It happened so often that you eventually decided that the dating scene just wasn’t for you. Resigned to focus on work and friends. Adopting a new mantra of “if it’s meant to be, it’ll be.”

You’ve got no idea why Kyle is so pleased to hear about the conclusion you’ve come to. Or why he’s suddenly coming back home for a few weeks.

#he is rotting my brain from the inside out I need him carnally #moongreenlight #moongreenlightwrites #cod mw2 #call of duty #cod x reader #141 headcanons #drabble #kyle gaz garrick x reader #gaz x reader #kyle gaz smut #gaz smut #gaz mw2 #gaz cod #kyle gaz garrick #gaz call of duty #kyle garrick #kyle gaz garrick smut #cbf!gaz

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luveline · 2 years

Note

since roan likes to copy eddie she starts calling y/n sweetheart or other pet names bc that’s what eddie calls her <3

little bit of hurt/comfort here <3 single dad eddie x fem!reader

"Daddy, where are we?" Roan asks, trying to work out their location from the little bit of window she can see through. Her sun visor makes it difficult work.

"We," he says, grabbing the side of his chair with two hands to see her in the backseat, "are outside Y/N's job."

"Is she having dinner?" With us, she means to say.

"Yes she is." Eddie checks out the window to see if you're coming. You're not, so he turns his serious face on Roan and starts with a gentle tone, "You know... when Teddy lost his ear? And you had to be very careful with him until I could get Uncle Wayne to sew him up?"

She squints, confused. "Yeah."

"Well-" Eddie smiles softly. "Y/N isn't feeling the best. So I just want you to be as nice to her as you can be until she feels better."

"Is Uncle Wayne fixing her?"

Eddie's voice raises an octave. "No, he's not. I'm gonna try my best, alright?"

"Why does she feel bad?"

He peeks out the window and sees you leave your building. "I- It's a grown up thing, baby." It's lots of grown up things, piling on and weighing heavy. You don't like to talk about it. Eddie's just gonna have to show you how much he cares.

Eddie pops open the door and waves. "Hey," he calls.

You look up. Your downtrodden frown quirks into an abrupt smile. "Eddie?"

"Hey."

You pick up your pace. He can't walk too far from the car while Roan's still inside to meet you, but he receives you with open arms.

"Oh my god, I missed you," you say. The relief in your voice turns his heart, has him clutching you tighter.

"I missed you," he says, cheek pressed to your cheek, hand scrubbing down your back. "I'm glad I caught you. Think you can clear a space in your busy schedule to come for dinner?"

"Is my favourite girl gonna be there?" you ask.

He encourages your head back to kiss your cheek. You love affection, you live for it, so he tries to make it a good one, and he strokes your cheek as he pulls away. He doesn't bother answering your question because it's rhetorical, Roan's always with him.

"Is she sleeping?" you ask.

Eddie climbs back into the driver's side and gestures for you to do what you want to do.

You open Roan's car door. "Hi, princess," you greet immediately, thrilled at her smart clothes and her hair in two low pony tails either side of her face. "It's so good to see you. I've missed you!"

"Missed you too," Roan says.

Eddie beams and turns his key. He knows the power of Roan's loving words against a bad mood.

The engine starts and the radio flickers to life, his music occluding your happy laugh. "Can I give you a kiss?" you ask fondly.

Roan pouts and holds her head up agreeably for you to kiss her on the cheek. She kisses you in turn.

Your smile is magnetic as you close her door and round to the passenger seat.

"So, what's for dinner?" you ask, closing the door behind you.

Dinner tonight is your favourite because Eddie's got game. He gets you home and bundles you and Roan on the sofa with the thickest throw blanket he owns, pulls off both of your shoes and gets you something to drink. Roan snuggles into your side and grins at Eddie's approving smile. He winks. She winks back clumsily.

When he's finally got a bowl of food in all your laps he sits down on your left side. You're hesitant at first but eventually you sink into him and he wraps and arm around your shoulder, content to eat one handed if this is what you need today.

"This is really good," you praise, chewing with your hand over your mouth.

He'd tried very, very hard. "No biggie. Whipped it up for you easy this morning. Working on a Saturday, that isn't permanent, is it?"

You sigh forlornly. "God, I hope not. I'm so sick of-" Your words dry up.

You pet Roan's shoulder like you've remembered she's there.

She looks up with a fork halfway to her mouth and everything on it falls off.

"Doesn't matter," you say with a snort, reaching around her to wipe a stripe of sauce from her cheek.

"It does matter, sweetheart," he says softly. "Of course it does."

You shrug it off. "It's okay, Eddie, really. It's fine." You slink down in your seat and smile at him all wobbly.

"Let me get you another drink," he says. He gets up, gives your shoulder a good squeeze as he goes.

Roan watches him leave. As soon as he's out of sight she thrusts her bowl to the side and untucks her small legs from the blanket.

"Everything okay?" you ask.

Roan's young, but she can tell you're not feeling good all on her own. Her dad's warning in mind, she stands up tall and drapes herself against your shoulder, hands vying for your face. She props her short fingers under your eye and strokes a wonky line. Your eyes fall to her, perplexed.

"What are you doing?" you murmur.

"Daddy said you're sick," she says, frowning at you. "Like Teddy when he lost his ear."

You blink at her. "I'm not sick, baby. Don't worry."

"You look," — Roan readjusts her hugging, hands in the collar of your work shirt — "sad."

You shake your head at her urgently. "No, no. I'm alright, Roan, I'm super happy. You know I'm always happy when I'm with you and daddy, cos you're so awesome," you say, poking her chest.

Roan doesn't believe you, though she likes you and loves you anyways. She wraps her arms around your neck and rubs her forehead into your jaw.

"Roan," you say quietly.

"Don't be sad, sweetheart," Roan says.

You giggle. "What did you say?"

Roan cuddles you and doesn't repeat herself.

"What did you say, baby?" you ask, arm wrapping around her back.

"Don't be sad, sweetheart."

You laugh again and hug her with a great big harrumph of breath, your squeezing arms startling an infectious baby-like giggle from her. You pull her up into your chest and lift your head until you're face to face, brushing that sweet lone curl out of her eyes as you say, "I guess I can't be when you tell me so nicely! Aw, Roan, you're my favourite little girl on this whole planet-" You're praising her in a near breathless rush. "The whole universe."

"I second that!" Eddie says as he returns, three cups pressed to his chest. He smiles, totally clueless. "What did I miss?"

"I made her better, daddy," Roan says easily, pride coming off of her in waves. Her curls tickle your nose as she turns in your arms to goad at him. "'Cos you took too long."

You beam widen your eyes. "Way too long," you repeat teasingly.

He has the good graces to look bashful. "You did? Thank you. I was getting 'round to it, I promise."

You nod at him. Yes, he was.

When Roan turns back to you, you shake your head. "All you, princess."

more eddie and roan

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beenbaanbuun · 6 months

Text

seventeen’s reaction to their youngest member getting injured

choi seungcheol

has already lost 10 years of his life just from worrying about you

loses 5 more when he has to accompany you to the hospital because of your broken leg

he tried to save the lecture until after he knows you’re okay, but he can’t help it when the leader in him comes out

the conversation *cough* reprimand *cough* lasts for the whole car journey and by the time you’ve got the the hospital, you’d already been blocking it out for 10 minutes

“you need to be more careful,” he said as he wrapped his arm around your shoulders. he might be frustrated, but he still wanted to show you he cared. “it might be a broken leg this time but who knows what it’ll be next time!”

at the end of the day he just cares about you too much to see you hurt

yoon jeonghan

if it isn’t bad, he’ll just tease you about how clumsy you are

probably still teases you if it is bad, but when you start tearing up because of how much it hurts, will immediately stop

causes hell just to make sure you’re getting the best treatment possible because he wouldn’t be able to live with himself if he didn’t make you were were as comfortable as possible

eventually calms down when you assure him you’re fine and you feel perfectly alright with what you’d been given

leaves 80% of the lecturing to seungcheol and just gives you a tiny one himself, mostly about how you’re not allowed to worry him

once he knows you’re feeling a little better, a switch will flip and he’ll go back to his regular annoying self just to try and get things back to normal

“well at least you didn’t fall down the stairs,” he laughed before cutting it short just a few seconds later, “oh, wait… never mind, you did!”

hong jisoo

was the only one around when you cut your finger open with the kitchen knife

doesn’t know what to do so he sends a text to seungcheol and shoves your hand under the cold tap for a while

tries to cheer you up but doesn’t really know how to when you’re bleeding profusely and crying just as much

eventually lands on his usual method of doing stupid shit just to get the tiniest smile out of you while you wait for anyone else to come and do the important part of patching you up

“keep your hand there,” he tells you as he lets go of your wrist and steps away from you, “get ready to feel better.”

100% does that silly little dance of his which has you cry laughing instead of just regular crying

you almost forget how much it hurts and shua considers his job done!

wen junhui

kind of clueless on what to do when you go to him with a bloody nose and tell him you got hit in the face playing foot volleyball

sits you down on the sofa whilst he frantically google’s how to stop nose bleeds

asks you to go and grab tissues before realising that you’re the one he’s supposed to be helping and goes to get them himself

winces a bit when he gets blood on his hands but remembers that he’s doing it for you and the grossness of it goes away pretty quickly

tries to talk you through the pain, letting you know about what he’s been doing with his day and what he’s planning to do later

“and then you came in to talk to me and i think that’s it,” he finished up recounting every second of his day as he switched the tissue for a clean one, “and then later i’m going to head to the practice rooms to-”

definitely forgets about your injury once the bleeding has stopped and boops you on the nose only to profusely apologise when you wince in pain

kwon soonyoung

if you could run away with a sprained ankle, you definitely should because hoshi will turn up his clinginess by about 80% the moment he hears that you have an injury

will not let you out of his sight until he knows you’re okay again

unfortunately for you that means you have a permanent body guard telling you what you can and can’t do which gets very old very fast

you cant even hide from him because god knows he will seek you out and yell at you for walking on your bad ankle too much

might be overbearing but in reality he just wants you to get better as quickly as possible because it makes him sad to see you in pain

“sit down and let me do it,” hoshi shouted as he noticed you trying to get a bowl of cereal for yourself, “and you wonder why i like to keep an eye on you…”

you eventually give into the clinginess in the hopes that he’ll get bored after a while… he doesn’t…

jeon wonwoo

freezes when he spots you crying and holding your wrist in front of the stove

literally does not know what to do in this situation because he usually palms it off onto one of his other members

but he’s the only one around and you’ve just been burnt and desperately need someone to help

so he walks over to you and drags you to the sink with your good wrist, all whilst muttering complaints about how you need to be more careful

strokes your hair when you’re running your wrist under the cold water to try and soothe you just a little

“you’re okay, y/n,” he whispers, pressing a kiss to your hairline, “i know it hurts but the longer you hold it under the water, the less it’ll hurt in the long run.”

passes you along to the next member that comes along but will check up on you every few minutes just to make sure you’re okay

lee jihoon

his first response is always ‘go find seungcheol’ when you go to him with an injury, but sometimes he’s the only one around and you look so upset and fuck… he’ll have to deal with this

very methodical about it - asks you what’s wrong, finds out what he needs to do, does it

he’ll try and hide his smile as you tell him about what stupid thing you were doing that got you hurt this time, but tries to hide it because at the end of the day, you’re still injured

usually shuffles in close whilst he’s bandaging you up just so you can lean on him in it gets too painful at any point

he refuses to complain about you leaning on him when you’re hurt because how can he deny you physical affection when it’s obviously making you feel better

in reality he just has a soft spot for you and uses you being hurt as an excuse to let you hug him with no complaints

“there we go, kid,” he rubs your arm affectionately, “all patched up…”

lee seokmin

panics because oh god his kid is hurt and he doesn’t know what to do and WHERE IS SEUNGCHEOL

will sit down and hold you close while he rings around the members to try and find one to come and help

he claims the cuddling is to help soothe, but you both know it’s so he can calm himself down more than anything

eventually gets ahold of another member and begs them to come home and help

breathes a sigh of relief when they agree; now his only job is making sure you’re calm and comfortable and nothing hurts too much

cue seokmin literally becoming your butler for the next 20 minutes whilst you wait for someone else to get home because he needs to make sure that you have everything you need

“do you need more tea?” he asks as you take the final sip. not even a second passes before the mug is taken from you and more tea is poured. “i’ll get you some more, just so you have it if you want it, okay?”

kim mingyu

tries his hardest to help but he can’t help but gag when you tell him about how you trapped you fingers in the car door

doesn’t know what to do so he literally wraps up your whole hand in gauze and calls it a day - it’s someone else’s problem now

spends more time trying to cheer you up than he actually does helping with your injury because at least he knows how to make you smile

tells you bad jokes until you can’t breathe from laughter and you’re begging him to stop

he stops but only so you can get your breath back, and then he starts again because laughter is clearly a great pain killer

“if it’s more jokes you want then it’s more jokes i have, pipsqueek,” mingyu smiled at you as you frantically shook your head, “no more jokes? well that’s boring… how about this one? why did the old man-”

continues until someone more qualified to deal with your gross injury gets home

xu minghao

doesn’t lecture you in the same way seungcheol does, but definitely gives you a speech about how you shouldn’t be putting yourself in dangerous situations

rolls his eyes at you when you try and pass the blame onto another member who you claimed to be your ‘partner in crime’ because he knows it was definitely just your own clumsiness

still tries his hardest to help clean up the scratch on your face that you got from who knows what - minghao had zoned out part way through your convoluted story

lets you squeeze his hand if the antiseptic makes your scratch hurt too much

even let’s you pick out a cute bandaid to put over it just because he knows it’ll cheer you up

“if your stylist gets mad at you, don’t come crying to me,” he grumbles as he presses a kind kiss to the bandaid, “it’s your own fault, no one else’s.”

tells you to be careful before you go running off to cause more trouble

boo seungkwan

very much an ‘i told you this would happen’ kind of person, even if he had not ‘told you so’ like he says he did

will roll his eyes when you get brought back to the dorms with a cast on your wrist, but is the first to help you carry your stuff inside

yells at you if you even think about lifting a finger but complains about how you’re making him do everything for you

you always tell him if it’s that much trouble you’ll do it yourself, but he’ll just glare at you and tell you to stop talking nonsense

threatens to tell seungcheol whenever he catches you with your arm out of your sling

would actually go through with it if he thought you were doing any real damage to your arm

“the doctor wouldn’t like you doing that, you know,” he muttered as he watched you stretch out your aching limb, “neither would seungcheol…”

choi hansol

vernon knows that if you go to him with an injury, you have exhausted literally every other option you have

literally clueless about what to do when you walk up to him with a black eye because you ran into a glass door

google is his best friend as he frantically searches how to reduce bruising

has no qualms with sending you to retrieve your own ice pack from the freezer as he does some more googling…

won’t do much to try and cheer you up other than putting on a movie and grabbing snacks for the two of you to share

doesn’t complain about holding your ice pack in place when you fall asleep on his shoulder… after all, it just means more snacks for him

falls asleep himself before the film is over and your ice pack ends up on the floor… so much for trying to reduce the bruising

lee chan

probably his fault you were injured in the first place so he makes you promise that if he helps then you won’t tell any of the older members

you only agree to the deal when he offers to buy you a meal as well as helping you clean and bandage the cuts on your knees from where he tripped you

he honestly tries his hardest to help, partly because he feels bad and partly because he doesn’t want to face anyone’s wrath when they find out he’s the reason you’re injured

tries is the main word, though, as he ends up having to get help from someone else anyway

he chooses the least likely member to get him in trouble and together him and mingyu puzzle over what to do about your knees

you eventually end up guiding them through the process of cleaning them and then wiping them down with antiseptic before bandaging them

“do you think i did a good job?” he asks once the bandages were secured over the grazes. you glared at him. “fine, a good enough job for you to not tell on me…”

#seventeen scenarios #seventeen fluff #svt scenarios #svt fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen reactions #svt fic #svt reactions #seventeen x reader #svt x reader #svt addition #seventeen addition #svt 14th member #seventeen 14th member

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darkcircles4lyfe · 10 days

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it's a story about hands (reprise)

Yeah, okay, today's the day.

I gave my blog that title for a reason, you know, and it has loomed over me for years because the hand motif is absolutely everywhere and you could go on about it forever.

Maybe that's something I'll never actually attempt to do, but this chapter, we reached a breaking point.

Before I continue, I need to give a big, big disclaimer: I do not have a physical disability, so I'm not able to speak about that from the standpoint of representation as a first-hand perspective. I have at least listened to enough disabled people to know that fictional characters who become amputees only to miraculously gain their limbs back is, um, a trope. Disabled people in general being "healed" is a conception we would really prefer to avoid here. Not to call people out, but I don't think we're giving enough space to acknowledge that.

I don’t feel comfortable making the judgement call about what should happen. I’m leaving that open. I also don't want to downplay people's emotional reactions. Honestly, I don't know if I can accurately define the line between acknowledging real pain vs. ableist pity. But I’d like to talk about the possibilities of what could happen. Other characters have definitely gotten permanent disabilities as a result of their hero work, or even just the side effects of their quirk. But, for better or worse, I don't think this case is really about representation. Not that Horikoshi won't do that justice. He might. What I'm saying is that's not his purpose for having Izuku lose his arms. It's meant to be symbolic, so we can explore what it means. The other thing I’m keeping in mind here is that Horikoshi is notorious for playing with our expectations, like, alllllll the time. I mean, just take a few chapters ago for a classic example. Eri appeared at the end, and we all assumed she was about to take some sort of action to save someone with her quirk. Then, immediately following, we were given an explanation for why that wouldn’t be happening. And now it’s clear he wanted to do that “fake out” not just as a silly cliffhanger prank, but specifically so we would know not to suspect that Eri could be the miraculous solution to Izuku’s loss of his arms. Rest assured, there is no easy way out of this.

The expectation at play in this particular instance is an old one. It’s very understated, but its subtext has burned so brightly, you’d be a fool not to notice it. It sits with anticipation like one half of a call and response. Man, I was so certain. Lots of people still are. I was really looking forward to printing the panel where it happened onto a t shirt and wearing it proudly. All the hand motifs in this story radiate thematically from a single moment, the one that started it all for Izuku.

It raises all kinds of questions about the act of saving, who needs saving, why, what does it mean, what are the dynamics of power, politics, honesty, exploitation, compassion, pity, disdain, sacrifice. Katsuki has dealt with many of these since he first rejected Izuku’s hand. While Izuku was the one who was convinced Katsuki would keep on rejecting him…

…Katsuki was the one who kept that moment in his mind all these years and eventually came to regret it.

Katsuki is the one yearning for that hand-hold, the one who has imbued it with so much more weight than it ever originally had. Izuku, in contrast, does not allow himself to dwell on what he wants. To illustrate this difference, we need to look at another piece of foreshadowing:

Ugh, do y'all remember when lots of folks were complaining about how there never seemed to be actual consequences for Izuku's destructive treatment of his own body? I don't blame them, I was concerned and confused about it too. There were several "fixes" along the way. Recovery Girl healed him, but left a physical reminder. Then he started training to fight with his legs… sometimes. Then he got support items. All of these were unsatisfying non-conclusions because they didn't present Izuku with a lasting enough impression to change in a meaningful way. They didn't address his core, his origin.

Of course, that all changed this chapter. Now it looks like our frustration was inflicted intentionally. With the current context in mind, all of these moments look more sinister, like this day was always gonna come because they kept putting bandaids on a deep emotional and psychological wound. The problem is pretty much spelled out for us here:

As Katsuki put it, he just doesn’t take himself into account, ya know? He doesn’t care what happens to him. And he lies about it, to keep others from worrying, to keep them safe. To keep them from returning the favor and putting themselves in harm’s way for his sake. His motivations are noble,

…but what about the little boy inside Izuku? Who saves him?

This is all about Izuku giving himself up to the point that he literally has no more to give. The thing is, I bet he saw this coming. He knew his limits and decided to keep going anyway, because his personal safety and wellbeing are not important. Now that way of thinking has come back to bite him because the fight isn’t over yet, and he’s already made his sacrifice. So now we know who will be more distraught over this. Not Izuku—Katsuki.

It’s not about Izuku becoming disabled, it’s about how Katsuki wanted to use the intertwining of their fingers to communicate that he would never let go. Never stop valuing him most. Never let himself make the mistake of rejecting him again. Never let Izuku be so reckless with his life. To say: “we are in this together.”…if only Katsuki believed he deserved to be able to say such things. To reach out his hand would have been the ultimate way to simply imply them and let Izuku be the one to decide. Then, to feel their hands clasped together would be more than either of them dared hope for, but so beautiful, so right. A moment they’ve waited their whole lives for.

Yeah. That’s what we were expecting. We’ve been so comfortable. Horikoshi gave us all the signs. He tempted and teased us over and over. BUT. You know he does this thing were he gives us a desirable, completely plausible and simple thing to look forward to, and then he snatches it away. And THEN he replaces it with something much better, something we were not expecting at all because it seemed too good to be true. That’s exactly what happened when Himiko snatched Izuku away, and we were robbed of the chance to see him and Katsuki fight together. In hindsight, though, I’m glad things went a different way because now there’s so much more depth and angst on display. Likewise, in the present moment, we may consider how, as one door closes, another opens.

As wonderfully meaningful as the hand-hold would have been, perhaps it is still too simple a resolution for Izuku, for his and Katsuki’s relationship. Tbh, it could have been done like 100 chapter ago. At this point, there’s so much more potential. There are a couple of ways it could go. If Izuku stays armless, Katsuki will be forced to use other methods to get his point across. He’ll have to do something else, or say what he means, or both. Yes, I’m talking about what you think I’m talking about. If I say it, I just might jinx it (lol), but I mean it. I’m being serious. Either way, if Izuku did get his arms back in the end, I’m sure that it wouldn’t be an easy fix. It would be hard-won against Izuku’s self-destructive mindset, and/or by Katsuki’s conviction. Again, I say this knowing it is not meant so much as a representation of disability, but as a representation of Izuku’s greatest character flaw taken to the extreme. I know this might sound harsh, like, hasn’t he been through enough? I get that, but… I’ve said it before and I say it again: Izuku is stubborn as hell.

I wish I had a resounding final note to end this on, but I kinda don’t. I’m not sure what’s best. Now we just have to wait and see what Horikoshi has in mind.

#lin speaks #bnha meta #bnha manga #bnha 419 #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #midoriya izuku #bakugou katsuki #bakudeku #bkdk #dekubaku #dkbk

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d-dixonimagines · 4 days

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PROMPT: "Thought you'd be taller.."

I feel like I want to do this one again with a different approach, but I don't know. I envisioned it being something light-hearted and fun, so please excuse my attempt at being funny...! @darylsdelts A/N: It's not edited so there's probably typos

There was a weird buzz of energy going around the camp that you couldn't quite place. The way people whispered to one another excitedly like gossiping teenagers. Eventually you got wind that Daryl Dixon was supposed to be arriving. It was overheard on the radio when your group leader was communicating with Aaron, arranging some kind of supply drop. They had been talking for months and were finally closing on a deal to join forces and create connections.

Sure, you had heard Daryl's name before, but it was strange to see people act like it was some celebrity coming through their town, a behavior you thought was long dead when everything fell. He had been the talk for days, apparently. People telling stories about all the things they've heard he's done, even some you were sure couldn't possibly be true, like blowing up a group with a bazooka? It sounded ridiculous.

He had managed to gain a sort of reputation. He was the lone wolf you didn't mess with. People have said that he mostly kept to himself, some describing him as a grumpy old bear, and good luck if you ever got on his bad side.

You've heard he was mean and intimidating and had a permanent glare, but others say he is kind and had a softness to him. That he had a type of charm that was hard to explain. But it was all the same as rumors go; you didn't know what you were supposed to believe.

He had come to the camp a few times, but somehow you've never seen or met him yourself. It was like he was a myth. A story someone made up, and depending on which version you heard, he was either a scary boogeyman or some kind of hero.

None of that mattered, though. You were determined to find out for yourself who this Daryl guy really was, and if he was worth all of the commotion he seemed to cause.

The sun was just about to set when he and Aaron finally arrived. They were greeted with welcoming smiles and were invited to join you all for dinner. You were appreciative of the large cart of food and supplies they brought, but so far you weren't seeing anything too spectacular. He was quiet, mostly. Handing over crates and stuff, no particular look about him. He didn't look scary, there was no scowl-y expression. So many not a grumpy bear?

As the evening went on and everyone was settled, scattered about around the fire, you sat silently - continuing to watch him. When it was mostly just the two of you remaining, you decided that the silent stalking was getting you nowhere, so you took things to the next level; you approached him..

"Would you like some more?" You offered, extending the kettle of food you had in your hand. He looked up at you for a second before shaking his head, "Nah, I'm good.. Thanks." His voice was gruff, but there was a softness to it, it didn't make sense!

"I'll have some more." Your attention was brought to Larson, a guy from your group, who was sitting close by with his plate stretched out, a friendly smile on his face. Without saying a word, you took a step towards him and practically tossed the kettle in his lap, taking a seat next to Daryl, your back towards Larson.

There was a silence again, aside from the confused mumblings from Larson as he dished himself more food. You tried not to make it so obvious that you were eyeing Daryl, trying to glance at the fire every now and then, but you were failing quite miserably.

"Can I help ya with somethin'?" Daryl finally confronted you. When you didn't respond he continued. "You've been starin' me down since I got here and it's startin' to weird me out..."

You straightened up a bit and put your hands up briefly, an attempt to express you didn't mean anything by it. "I'm sorry. I'm just... trying to figure you out." "Whats'ta figure out, exactly?" he remained calm, but you could tell he had a guard up. Which was understandable.

You have a quick shrug as you tried to gather your thoughts. "The way people talk about you, you're at all what I expected." He gave a sight grunt, like where this was going all clicked. "Should I even ask what you were expectin'?" "Thought you'd be taller.." Your response surprised him a bit, causing him to let out a chuckle. Your shoulders relaxed at his reaction. He definitely wasn't a boogeyman type.

"There were a lotta things you could'a said, but I wasn't expectin' that one," he shook his head a bit and set his dish down by his feet. You could understand where he thought you were going, so many mixed reactions to him, but you were feeling more inclined to believe the positive ones, based on your current encounter with him.

"There was a lot of buzz around here when people learned you were visiting. They talk about you like you're some kind of celebrity. Which, I guess in some sense, you kind of are. With all the stuff you've done, you've made quite a name for yourself."

"Pshh.." he scoffed, "I don't buy into all that. People's opinions don't mean shit." "Even if it's good? People look up to you, from what I gather." He shook his head again. "It's all bullshit. They don't know me or the shit I've done." "We've all done things. Larson here?" you pointed your finger over your shoulder, Daryl's eyes following the direction, "the worst thing he's probably done is kill a rabbit, and that's saying something when it comes to him, and while he's probably not the best example, we all still know he's a good person."

Larson looked up from his plate, his gaze going back and forth between you and Daryl. "It was an accident..." Larson defended himself, a silent look of panic etched on his face. "The rabbit, I didn't see it, it was in the -" "You don't have to explain, Larson, it's OK. No one blames you." You cut him off before looking back at Daryl. "...Why would they blame me..?" "It was a whole thing.. but that's not the point. I'm just saying, the stuff you do makes a difference to people. The good stuff, I mean."

Daryl looked confused for a second, trying to figure out Larson's deal, but brought his attention back to you. "I dunno about any of that. I ain't tryin' to be anythin', I'm just doin' what anybody else would." You nodded, planning on keeping things at that, but there was one thing you couldn't get out of your head and needed answers on.

"I just have one question," you opened. He seemed almost reluctant to agree, but he did with a nod. "Is it true you shot a bazooka at some group? Some people say there was a group of like fifty highwaymen and you just blew them all up." He looked at you for a second like you were insane and let out a sigh. "There weren't fifty of 'em, there was only about eight.." "But you blasted them with a bazooka?" "Yeah?" he responded like he didn't understand what the big deal was. "They were a bunch'a assholes, they had it comin'."

"No, I completely get it," you let out a small laugh. "It's just a crazy thing to think about, you know? A bazooka! Where the hell would you even get one of those?" "Military truck," both Daryl and Larson answered at the same time, causing you both to look at him. "Sorry, I keep forgetting you're there." You almost felt bad. "Anyway, I should get going. It was cool to meet you," you turned back to Daryl and stood up, talking some of the empty dishes. Daryl gave a nod as you walked off.

"... The rabbit incident really was an accident," Larson chimed in after a moment of silence; he was leaning towards Daryl like he was trying to keep it between the two of them. "It was in the -" "Let it go, Larson!" Two other people in the group shouted at the same time. Larson slammed his plate on his lap in frustration as he was interrupted once more and he straightened up. Daryl sat there awkwardly in silence for a moment before getting up himself. He walked passed Larson and gave a quick sympathetic pat on his shoulder. "It's alright, buddy. I believe ya.." Daryl let out an amused scoff as he walked away to find Aaron.

#daryl dixon #the walking dead #d-dixonimagines #daryl dixon imagines #daryl dixon x reader #norman reedus

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sherifftillman · 2 years

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Curiosity Is Killing Me

Pairing: Steve Harrington x f!Reader

Genre: smut

Tags: 18+ (MINORS DON'T EVEN THINK), p in v, oral (m + f receiving), degradation, mixed praise too

Summary: When sleepovers with your best friend become a ruse for her sneaking her own boyfriends in, it's not your fault that the only other distraction is her brother...

Word count: 3583

At first, you think it must just be a trick your ears are playing on you. A passing sound that happened to sound like a moan, that happened to be coming from your best friend's brother’s bedroom, that happened to sound exactly like Steve's cadence. You carry on to the bathroom as if it was nothing, but on your way back, you take your time walking past Steve's door again, to hear that moan again.

You assume it must be a Harrington kid thing, to sneak in people by way of far more innocent means - in your best friend's case, making sure that her family knowing you're here means they won't dare enter her room or the guest suite, which the lie is that that's where the two of you plan to hang out to not disturb the sleeping family. In reality, you stay in the guest bedroom all night while she and her boyfriend have a secret night in.

You don't mind, too much. She always says she'd do the same for you, if only you'd be interested enough in someone, and you don't doubt that, she's a good friend. Except there's only one person you're interested in, and you can't tell her it's her brother.

Safe in the knowledge that everyone else is in their bedroom for the night, you go to her door and give the "all-clear" knock. She cracks open her door and grins, "You know I love you forever, right?"

"Yeah, yeah," you roll your eyes. "Isn't it, like… Extra risky, you and Steve sneaking around on the same night?"

Her brow furrows, "Steve doesn't sneak girls in, he just waits until Mom and Dad are out."

You nod slowly. "Got it. 'Kay. Goodnight. Night, Ryan!" You shout-whisper over her shoulder, and see a thumbs-up raise in response.

"I'll come get you when the coast is clear!" your best friend hisses as she closes the door.

You know you should just go back to the guest suite and sleep it all off. But that sound. If it wasn't Steve with somebody…

Images flood your brain of him: head thrown back against the headboard, his dark and luscious hair spilling down the back of his neck; his beautiful, pink, plump lips just parted enough to let those delicious moans roll right out of him; freckled chest shaking with bated breaths as the rest of his body seeks its friction against his wide, strong hand wrapped tightly around his member. Of course, you've never seen it for yourself, but the pants he wears leave little to the imagination, and the one time you'd been in the front row at a swim meet is permanently etched into your brain.

~~~

Steve really tried to hold off for as long as possible. Thankfully so, since his sister's latest piece had miscalculated which window to attempt to climb into. Now, that would have been awkward. But eventually, something had to give. He needed some kind of release, even if it wasn't a whole one. His cock was still screaming against his boxers, and Steve had felt it dangerous enough to discard his jeans after he feared the potential friction burn.

He knows what he has to do. Picking out his favourite tape, the one with that actress in, he puts it into the VHS player his dad had bought him to get him to shut up about something he’d overheard on the phone once. Keeping the remote control at hand, and making sure the volume wasn’t loud, he reaches into his nightstand for his trusted bottle of lotion, slides the offending garment off and slips beneath his covers. Lubing up his hand, he knows the rhythm of this video well enough by now. He can start off by giving himself a gentle release, barely any pressure, just the feeling of his fingertips sliding up and down his member. Of course, yours would feel far more dainty than his, but there’s no way he’d just waltz into the other room and proposition you.

As the video progresses, Steve starts jerking himself off with more virility. If he squints while the actress is on screen, he can pretend that it’s you. That thought only gets him more excited, and he moves faster, harder, feeling himself start to build up, until- Shit, is that your voice? Fuck. He’s already so far gone, he can’t just stop now. And besides, you’re probably just saying goodnight. You wouldn’t have any need to come past Steve’s room. Still, he wraps his finger and thumb tightly around the base of his cock as he continues to relieve himself, just until he knows the coast is clear.

It isn’t. There’s a knock at his door, and he just about has enough time to grab a pillow, shove it under the pillow and hit the power button on the TV control before you’re already inviting yourself in.

“Uh, hi?” Steve clears his throat. You weren’t expecting him to be shirtless, but then it’s perfectly normal for a guy to not wear a shirt to bed. “What’s up?”

The dishevelled look of his bed doesn’t go unnoticed by you. Your curiosity piques as you step further into his room. “Nothing. Just wanted to hang out a little before I go to bed.” Steve tries to smile as softly as he can, not wanting you to think he’s rude but also silently willing you to please god, get out of here so he can relieve himself. “What are you doing?”

“Uh, I was just - just watching something on the TV,” he shrugs, “but I’m about to hit the hay.”

“What’re you watching?” you ask, reaching for the control, but he snatches it away from you quickly. You quickly realise why, and gasp. “Steve Harrington, were you watching… adult movies?!”

Trying his absolute best to act casual, he scoffs, “Okay, yes, I was, because remarkably, I am an adult, as are you. I’m sure you’ve watched something by now.” It takes all his mental willpower not to imagine you getting off in this exact moment.

“Not all of us have parents rich enough to give us TVs in our own room.” You shake your head, quickly grabbing the control away from him and switching it on, to Steve’s horror, as you ask, “So is the one you’re watching any good o- Oh.” You stare at the paused sight in front of you. A very naked woman posed over a very naked man. The man you’re not so interested in. It’s the fact that the woman has the exact same body shape, complexion, hair texture, colour and length, everything is almost identical to you.

Steve snatches the control back from you and switches it off. “’S just coincidence,” he mutters as an explanation, but you’re not buying it.

A confident pride takes over your entire body. “Did you pick this one out for its content? Or for the… Actress?” He doesn’t answer, so you continue, “You know, I was walking past earlier…”

Steve’s eyes widen. “Aren’t you in the guest suite tonight?”

You look just as confused back at him. “How do you know that?!” He explains his encounter with Ryan. “Oh. Right. Well, yeah, but I didn’t know you knew, so I thought it would look weird if I didn’t have my toothbrush and stuff in you guys’ bathroom. So I was walking past and I… Heard…”

"Oh," his cheeks tint a weaker shade of the lips that he licks nervously. "So, you heard… The sounds I was making… From out there, huh?" You nod, and he curses, "Oh, shit," under his breath. As you shuffle up to sit yourself right next to him in the bed, he asks you in a whisper, brow furrowing, "Why are you getting closer?" He doesn't give you much time before realisation dawns in his eyes. In the same hushed volume, but with a smug excitement in his undertone, he asks you, "Is it because you liked what you heard?" You nod, not being able to tear your eyes away from his, pools of melted caramel hidden amongst his eyelashes as he studies your whole face. "Is it because you like thinking about my hand, wrapped around my cock, underneath the sheets here? Is that why you didn't leave any time between knocking and opening the door? Were you trying to see it?"

"C-can I… See it now?" You ask sheepishly, having nowhere else to turn at this point.

He pulls the sheets off him, pillow and all, to reveal his entirely nude form, down to what you could only describe as a raging erection. Thicker than you've ever seen, longer than you've ever seen, a singular vein protruding along the side, an entirely brand new experience. "Yeah, there you go," he encourages, still whispering as he watches your face light up at the sight. "Wanna reach down for yourself, and grab it?"

Still not taking his eyes off of yours, he finds your wrist and guides it to the base of his shaft, which your fingers wrap themselves around. He already felt well-lubed up, and so sliding your hand up and down it was next to nothing, though you could easily work his entire length if your position allowed you to slide your other hand down there, too. He reaches a finger up to push your jaw into a position where he could immediately start kissing you openly. His tongue craves access to yours, and he expresses his gratitude when you grant him it by gently sliding his own hand beneath your pyjama top, down your stomach and into your shorts, cupping the hot and wet mess that you were rapidly becoming.

"Do you like that?" he whispers, his breath tickling your lips, "When I grab you down there? In these short fucking shorts, with no panties on?"

You nod, whimpering shakily, "Please, Steve, touch me there."

He smirks. "Did you have this planned, doll? Is this what you wanted to happen tonight?" Steve asks, his fingertips still barely grazing your core. "You wanted to fuck your best friend's brother?" He again doesn't wait for you to answer before grazing his fingers through your wetness. You whimper, and he presses the gap between you closed again to grin, his teeth pressing against your lips. “You’re mighty overdressed between the two of us, baby. Why don’t you take that shirt off?”

You nod, leaning away just enough to pull the tank top off of your body. Steve hums with pure delight as he watches your tits get pulled up with the fabric, to bounce back down again. Once you’ve discarded it behind you, he leans in again for more open kisses, still not quite touching you how you’d like. You mewl at him, and he eventually pulls away to whisper, “Lay on your back.”

You comply, and he kisses all over your torso, paying extra close attention to kissing and suckling on your nipples. You cry out a high-pitched whine in delight as your back arches beneath him. He continues his journey, kissing down your stomach, to the waistband of your shorts. With a quick two-tone whistle, he gestures with his fingers for you to lift your ass up so he can pull them down. Once they’re off, he stares between your legs, taking a deep breath in to moan underneath his exhalation, “Oh, fuck yes.”

He clambers onto his stomach, propped up by his elbows, to settle between your legs and start to gently lap at the wetness already soaking your lower lips with his tongue. You squirm at the touch, and he grins, “You like it when I use my tongue, baby?” His voice is low and thick with arousal. You let out an uh-huh and he moves to flick his tongue rapidly back and forth against your clit. Watching his tongue move is enough of a turn-on, but seeing those big brown eyes look longingly back up at you completely ruins you. Your hand reaches for his hair, raking it with your fingers and gripping every time he wraps his lips around it to suck on it.

“Oh fuck, you taste so fucking good,” he groans before laying his tongue flat against your slit, again looking up at you and maintaining eye contact as he licks all the way up. “Goddamn, getting so wet, just for me, could feast on you for hours, fuck.” He slips two fingers easily inside of you, watching you fall apart at his touch as he spreads them out inside you.

“Fuck, Steve,” you groan, “need you so bad.”

“Yeah?” he asks with a smirk, getting up onto his knees. He moves to straddle your chest commanding, “Sit up on your elbows.” You do so, and your lips just graze where he’s holding the head of his cock out to you. He raises his eyebrows at you, almost challenging you, and you open your mouth, sticking your tongue out to lay flat and wide beneath it. “Oh, good girl,” he moans as he slides himself into your mouth. Your lips are stretched taut around him as he pushes slowly in and out of you, “Oh, fuck, oh fuck, yes, suck my cock, just like that. Oh, fuck, you’re so good.” When he can tell you can’t take him much further, he instead pulls all the way out of you to tell you, “Want you to suck on these balls, please.” Something about him being so commanding and yet still pleading with you has you throbbing, especially when he coos, “Ah, fuck, you just love sucking on them, don’t you?” You nod excitedly in reply, and he reaches down to push your hair back. “My good little slut likes having my cock in her mouth, don’t you?” he asks as he guides himself back into your mouth.

The praise mixed with the degradation turns you into an absolute mess. You moan and whine around his cock, looking up at him desperately. He looks just as ready as you do, shuffling himself away from you to grab something out of the nightstand. You watch him sliding his condom on, enamoured, and he smirks at the sight of you studying him.

He returns to lean over you, placing the head of his cock right between your folds and gently sliding it up and down. You whine again, though this time out of impatience. Steve pouts at you, “Aww, do you not like getting teased? Hmm? Like how you tease me by coming over to sleep over all the damn time wearing shorts just like those? That barely even cover your ass cheeks?” He presses himself just against your clit, and you mewl even louder. “Or like how you always wear that swimsuit when you’re out back, modest enough that nobody else knows what you’re doing, but fuck, the way it fits you, you definitely show yourself off for me, don’t you, baby? You sexy little fucker.”

“Steve, please,” you beg. “Need - inside me, please.”

“As you wish,” he smirks, pushing himself slowly into you. His fingers certainly helped prepare you for the size of him, but you still hiss as he moves gently further and further into you, constantly watching your face for any sign of discontent. He sits inside you for a while, leaning in to whisper, “Tell me when it feels good, yeah?” before starting to kiss you. This kiss feels more than just a spur of the moment flurry of passion, this is something he’s wanted for a while.And so you give him back just as much fervour, eventually starting to slide your own hips back and forth against his member. It’s still not totally comfortable at first, but you grab his shoulder before he can try and pull out and reassure him that it just takes time.

Soon, the discomfort dissipates and now all you want is for this man to fuck you, no matter how or where. “Steve,” you coo into his ear while he’s kissing your neck.

“Yes, baby?” he asks. “Are you ready?”

You let out an mm-hm so he knows even without looking at you, and he looks back up to start rocking, gently, in and out of you. You bite your lip as your eyes roll in ecstasy, and that smug little smirk of his returns. “Is this what you’ve been thinking about, when you come over? When you see me, do you think about taking this cock all the fucking time? Is that really why you come over, so you can come and fucking gawk at me, you little slut? Curious about how good it would feel if I fucked you? Does it all seem worth it now?”

You writhe against him, willing him deeper, moaning, “God, fuck, yes.”

“Such a dirty little whore, pretending to be here for anything other than wondering whether I can make you scream,” he drawls. “Here’s the thing, baby, I know I can. And so do you. But not tonight, okay?” You nod desperately. “Attagirl. Fuck, you feel so much better than I imagined.”

He starts to move quicker inside of you, pressing his forehead to yours as you both moan into each others’ mouths. “D-d’you think - about me, too?” you ask, and he grins back at you.

“Do I? Of course I fucking do,” he drawls. “I think about you all the fucking time. Every time you come over, I - fuck - I jerk myself off to the thought of you. Especially being in that big ol’ guest bed by yourself, I just wanna get in there with you, and - fuck, slip my cock in you from behind and absolutely destroy you.” He lets out a truly feral moan, almost a growl. “God, fuck, and you don’t even know. Until now, you didn’t even know that I get myself off to you just a few doors away, thinking about - fucking your face, and taking you from behind, fucking you on my desk as I pull your hair and wrap my hand around your throat, just fucking the shit out of you.”

You feel every word of his hit your core as your climax starts to build. “Oh god, Steve, I -”

Mid-flow, Steve doesn’t seem to hear you. “Think about - shit, about cumming all over you, cumming inside you, oh my god, filling you up with my cum, doesn’t that sound so fucking good?” In any other situation, you may have thought not, but having Steve fuck his own cum deep inside of you? Now it’s all you want. You bite your lip and moan at the thought, and he strokes your hair. “Yeah? Sounds good, doesn’t it, baby? Being my personal little cumslut, god, I’d make sure you never had to work a day in your life so I could use you.”

Maybe it’s the fact that you’re totally dick-drunk at this point, but in this moment, the thought of being Steve Harrington’s cocksleeve sounds like the ultimate life goal. “Fuck, Steve,” you cry. “Wanna - be your… Your personal fucktoy, please?”

“Oh, you sexy fucking bitch,” he groans as he starts to move faster inside of you. “Fuck, can’t wait to make - so many thoughts a reality… You bouncing on my cock, sucking me off until I cum all over that pretty little face… Gonna fuck you in front of a mirror so you can watch how pathetic you are when my cock is inside of you.”

“P-please, Steve, I’m - I’m so fucking close now, please,” you beg.

Steve, now covered in a thin layer of sweat, pushes his hair aside to watch you as he rubs your now oversensitive clit. “Do it, baby, cum for me. Fuck, cum for me like you’re going to every single day for the rest of your fucking life.”

You fall apart at his words, clenching over his cock as your orgasm finally washes over you The sensation brings Steve over the edge too as he buries his head into your neck to bite your shoulder.

Steve makes quick work of getting off of you, throwing the condom away, and fetching a towel from his dresser to clean you up with. In a very quick contrast, he slips next to you to pull you in to wrap his arm around you. “Are you good?” he asks softly.

You nod, still feeling rather light-headed. “Little sore, down there, but it’ll pass. Um, did - did you mean, all that stuff you said?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies, almost matter-of-factly. “Now it’s out there, can’t exactly take it back.”

“Even when - you said you’d want me… Every day?” you ask quietly.

Steve pulls your face over to kiss it sweetly. “Especially that part. C’mon,” he hunts for the pillow he’d used to protect his modesty earlier, and his comforter, and sets up his bed accordingly again as he wraps you both up.

You giggle, “What will your sister say when I’m not in the other bed?”

“Well, what’s she going to do, admit you’re missing? When you’re meant to be in the same room? Doubt it,” Steve mutters sleepily against your skin.

“Yeah, but, like. When she finds out where I’ve been,” you explain.

“Then I’ll simply tell her she shouldn’t have made it my role to be a good host,” he replies, “now I really gotta sleep. Goodnight, beautiful.”

“Goodnight yourself, handsome,” you smirk, and he chuckles, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before the pair of you drift off to sleep in each others’ embrace.

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fic #steve harrington fanfic #steve harrington oneshot #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #stranger things imagine #stranger things fic #steve harrington smut #steve harrington x reader smut

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thefrogdalorian · 2 months

Text

Across The Stars

Word Count: 5815 Rating: MATURE 18+ MDNI Summary: Your riduur, Din Djarin, whisks you away to Naboo to enjoy the Festival of Love celebrations on the bountiful planet. While there, you reflect on just how much the formidable man, who chose you to be his, truly means to you. Content Warnings: Non-graphic smut, vaguely suggestive scenes but the acts/body parts aren't explicitly described. Author's Note: Happy Valentine's Day friends! In my head, this fic takes place in the same universe as A New Dawn. As you can tell, the yearning was intense this year so things got a little steamier than I expected when I sat down to write this. But I actually quite enjoyed writing such scenes lol, even though I don't really consider myself a smut writer, especially not for x reader fics. The urge hits once every few months and (un)luckily for you it coincided with Valentine's day hehe. Anywayyyy, really hope you enjoyed this one, would love to know your thoughts. Thanks as always for reading!

✯ My Masterlist ✯ Read on AO3 ✯

For the first few months after you had begun travelling around the galaxy with a Mandalorian, you had felt somewhat self-conscious about how many eyes he drew. No matter which planet you visited, it appeared that people were unable to avert their gaze away from him. You understood it, to some extent. After all, Mandalorians were feared throughout the galaxy for their formidable fighting ability, their ruthlessness and deadly accuracy.

Before you began travelling with Din, you would probably have joined the throngs of people who gawped at him. You certainly had the first time you had laid eyes on him, when he strolled into the run-down cantina where you worked, seeking information for some shadowy figure’s whereabouts. Fortunately, you had intimate knowledge of the location the lead would take him to. So you had joined him to guide him and simply never left.

He used The Child, who you would eventually discover was named Grogu, as an excuse to keep you around. Din had offered you a job as his caregiver as he desperately needed one for when he was off capturing his bounties. But you always knew – even back then, long before you had confessed your feelings to each other – that he genuinely appreciated your company too.

After a while, the self-consciousness you felt when walking around various planets with a Mandalorian gave way to feelings of bitter jealousy. You hated that others got to look at him, with his broad shoulders and confident swagger. How dare they look at the man you placed above all others with their undeserving eyes? Such feelings of resentment threatened to consume your entire being.

Everything changed after you and Din had confessed your feelings for each other.

Now, there was no jealousy, no possessiveness. You were secure in the love he showed towards you, revelling in it and relishing every moment when he took the opportunity to remind you of how deeply he adored you. Since that fateful day when your relationship with Din had changed permanently, there had been no such feelings when you stepped out with him. So, when Din had whisked you away to Naboo, on a trip to coincide with the Festival of Love which was famously celebrated on the bountiful planet, there were no lingering negative emotions. Just immense pride and contentment that this man was all yours.

As you strolled through the wide main street towards the Theed Royal Palace, where you would enjoy a guided tour, many of the townsfolk and tourists alike were dazzled by the presence of a Mandalorian on their planet. You watched with a small smirk as they stopped and stared, excitedly pointing at the gleaming Mandalorian who was strolling down the streets as they chattered enthusiastically in hushed tones. Such an experience would once have irritated you, perhaps you would have even snapped at them. Now, though, you were secure in the knowledge that no matter how many people looked in his direction... ultimately, it was you, not them, who was beside him. No one ever else would get to know The Mandalorian in the same way that you did. He had chosen you, and you alone, to be by his side for the rest of your lives.

You had long known that Din only wanted you, but it had recently been confirmed with the vows you had sworn together – the riduurok. You had promised to be one when together and parted, to share all and to raise warriors. It was a solemn Mandalorian ritual which had cemented your commitment to one another, and you liked the fact that it was not an intensely formal experience. You and Din had woken up one day in the cabin you shared on Nevarro and decided that it was finally time to take the step. By nightfall, you were riduurs.

If your marriage wasn’t already enough, to prove your commitment to each other, the strong arm that snaked its way around your waist certainly was. You sighed happily when a gloved hand settled on your hip before Din drew you into his side. Such a move only served to further underline your commitment to each other for any onlookers. It was clear that The Mandalorian was taken. And he belonged to you.

Being on Naboo, in the bustling, beautiful city of Theed, already made you feel as though there was something magical in the air. A palpable electricity, perhaps. But glancing over at the broad, handsome man in all of his glistening, unpainted beskar’gam glory as he held you close to him made you feel positively dizzy with glee. You knew his actions were as much for your benefit as it was for his. Din knew how shy you had felt about being in public with him at first, so he always made a point of drawing you close. Yet, you also knew how much Din loved holding you in his arms. There were days when he could not keep his hands off you, which was sometimes problematic when a certain green child was running around.

Din was always an attentive father though. He had once told you that The Child was his only priority and you knew that while Grogu’s wellbeing was still of paramount importance to him, somewhere on the way his capacity for love had expanded to include you, too. You hoped that Grogu was enjoying his time with Peli Motto on Tatooine. When planning your trip away, there had only been one name on your list who the pair of you trusted with your child. While you knew that Grogu could be a handful sometimes, you were certain that he had more than met his match in the eccentric mechanic of Mos Eisley Hangar 3-5.

Being away from the little boy for a few days was surely difficult for Din, and you knew holding the only member of Clan Mudhorn in his presence close to him was for his comfort as much as yours. Despite his initial shyness, Din loved to show everyone that you were his by placing his hands upon you when you were in public. His tight hold on your waist conveyed a strong message to the people of Theed: this Mandalorian was taken. No amount of staring or gawking on the part of any passersby would ever change that fact.

✯✯✯

Your first day on Naboo had been a complete whirlwind. There had scarcely been time to breathe. After your tour of the Theed Royal Palace was complete, rather than staying in Naboo’s capital, you and Din took a transport to the small oceanside city of Kaadara where you had spent your first evening. Din had felt that, while stunning, Theed was a little too crowded and filled with tourists for his liking. Although you had both enjoyed spending a few hours there strolling in the sun, mesmerised by the architecture and stunning decorations that adorned the trees and buildings to commemorate the ongoing Festival of Love, spending time in such a bustling city had been incredibly draining for the pair of you.

Kaadara was equally stunning and slightly more secluded, although it was still heaving with tourists. You had not seen much of the city the previous evening, it had been almost nightfall when you arrived at the shuttle port and well after when you finally reached your lodgings. As much as the two of you had wanted to take advantage of the fact you were alone, without a certain unruly green child to distract you, in a beautiful hotel room… you had been much too tired to use the luxurious sleeper for anything other than getting some much-needed rest.

And it was a decision that you certainly were not regretting as you sat on the private oceanside terrace of one of the numerous outdoor cafés which dotted the beachfront of Kaadara the following morning. You felt well-rested and able to appreciate the moment. You knew that the pair of you would have plenty of opportunities to make up for lost time during the rest of your trip. Plus, your early night had meant that you had been able to watch the sunrise over the beach together, hand in hand. It had been a perfect moment, Din’s beskar’gam glinting a mesmerising array of oranges and reds.

With your plates cleaned, the two of you were enjoying a few minutes of calm before making your next move. The secluded nature of the terrace meant that Din had been able to remove his helmet to enjoy a meal with you, a luxury that you were not often afforded as you travelled around the galaxy together. Even savouring food was a gift the pair of you were rarely afforded, with your busy lives and energetic child to raise. You sat there, utterly entranced by the handsome man before you. Your riduur. You admired Din’s strong side profile as he gazed out across towards the ocean. His strong nose, scruffy facial hair and long eyelashes were a feast for your eyes to match the feast of Nubian delicacies you had just enjoyed for breakfast. You adored looking at the way his curls wafted in the breeze, his tan skin perfectly in keeping with his surroundings.

“I like it here,” Din mused as he took a sip of caf. “But there are a few too many people here for my liking. What do you think?”

“I agree, Din,” you nodded. “I’m guessing our final destination is somewhere more secluded?”

Despite your hopes, Din did not fall for your subtle prodding for answers. You knew he was much too experienced thanks to a life of bounty hunting for that. Since leaving Theed, Din had been tight-lipped about your ultimate destination. All you knew for certain was that you were only staying for one night in Kaadara. Only your riduur knew where you would remain for the rest of your trip.

After leaving the café, the two of you took one last stroll along the beachfront before you returned to your lodgings and collected your bags. Despite you insisting on helping to carry them, Din refused. Instead, he shouldered the weight of all of the heavy bags by himself. It was a feat made all the more impressive by the fact he held them in one arm and hand, to keep one hand free so he could lace his gloved fingers with yours. You beamed at him, wondering if he had any idea just how much you adored him.

Since Din had revealed you were leaving Kaadara, you had fully expected that the two of you would head to the shuttle port where you had arrived only the previous evening. Instead, you gave Din a quizzical look as he led you away from the city centre, towards the city’s industrial quarter. You were even more confused when it appeared that Din was leading you towards a small, dilapidated building. You gave Din another questioning look, but he just shrugged and pushed the door.

It was not what you had been expecting at all. The rundown, forgotten building appeared to be a parking garage, with a vast array of speeder bikes and other vehicles parked up against the dull, grey walls. You watched with amusement as the Gungan who had been sitting on a chair, almost fell off it at the sound of the bell attached to the door, which signalled your and Din’s arrival. You had never met one before, but Din had explained the unique history of Kaadara to you. It was a city where Gungans and humans had lived side by side, where the locals had welcomed interactions with the native Gungan population rather than discriminated against them and exiled them.

The peculiar, yet endearing, character soon recovered, and greeted you:

“Wow! Heyday ho, welcomen!” The Gungan chirped. “Me've never seen a real Mandalorian, me'm honoured to meet yousa!”

“Nice to meet you too,” Din nodded. His greeting was friendly, but he was keeping his distance from the Gungan. You could imagine him rolling his eyes under his helmet, finding this sort of attention embarrassing.

“Yousa hair per da speeder bike?” The Gungan asked.

“Certainly am,” Din confirmed.

“Okeeday! Followen mesa, sir,” the Gungan jabbered as he beckoned Din to follow him.

You lingered by the door as the Gungan showed the bike to Din, who examined it by running his gloves over the saddle and handlebars, appraising the quality of the craftsmanship. You bit your lip, admiring the way his hands roamed over the surface. It had been several days since Din had touched you like that and you hoped you would have an opportunity tonight. His hands could be so soft and tender, even though they had been responsible for so many destructive acts throughout the galaxy. Before you could get lost in your thoughts any further, Din concluded the transaction by tossing the Gungan a bag of credits.

You watched, transfixed as Din pushed the bike out of the garage, his muscles barely straining despite its enormous weight. You followed him out of the building, bidding farewell to the Gungan as you went.

“A speeder bike?” You questioned, raising your eyebrows in disbelief.

“Yeah,” Din nodded. “Quickest way to get to our destination.”

“I’ve never ridden one before,” you confessed nervously.

“It’s fine, cyare,” Din reassured you, placing a hand on the small of your back. “You just have to sit behind me and wrap your arms around me. Do you think you can do that?”

You nodded eagerly. Being in such proximity to Din was an intoxicating prospect, one that immediately sent a shiver of desire coursing through your body. You were on fire for him. Although it was just the two of you on this vacation, it scarcely felt as though you had truly enjoyed a moment to yourself in private, where you could act on your desires. You knew that was precisely how Din had planned it as he wanted to show you as much of the planet as possible during your short time here. But with such a gorgeous riduur, it was hard not to yearn for his touch. You almost ached with want. So, the speeder bike seemed like a perfect compromise. Wrapping your arms around Din sounded like a dreamy way to spend the rest of the afternoon as you hurtled to your next destination.

You practically moaned in delight when you straddled the speeder seat, as your cheek came to rest on Din’s firm back, just underneath his broad shoulders. Your arms easily wrapped around his waist. For a man so vast, his waist was surprisingly slim compared to his shoulders. It was a contrast you loved, and this position in particular gave you a prime opportunity to take full advantage of his physique. You felt the safety and security of his enormous frame, with the softness of the man beneath the beskar as your arms rested around his narrow waist.

You squealed with delight as Din fired up the speeder bike and began hurtling out of the city. Although you found yourself somewhat sad to leave Kaadara behind, it had been a beautiful location after all, you couldn’t deny that you were excited to head for a more secluded location. It was a city which already attracted tourists in their droves, but thanks to the ongoing Festival of Love that coincided with your visit, the streets had been bursting with people. You knew that Din would be just as eager as you were to head for somewhere more secluded. By journeying elsewhere, away from lots of people, you hoped that Din would be able to relax and switch off fully. Your Mandalorian rarely seemed to be able to rest, it was in his nature.

The many breathtaking sights of Naboo whizzed past as you and Din hurtled across the planet on your speeder bike. You relished the warm skin you could feel below the layers, never tiring of feeling your Mandalorian in your arms. A gentle sigh left your body as you appreciated not just the feeling of Din in your arms, but the beauty of your surroundings. You passed breathtaking rolling hills, each one covered in lush green grass and a variety of flowers. There were several lakes and towns with beautiful domed architecture which took your breath away.

You and Din had made storming progress, save for one moment when he had to slow down and then stop entirely for a particularly unruly herd of shaak lolloped into your path. You did not mind the inconvenience though, despite Din’s grumbles, delighting in the fact you were able to gaze at the peculiar beasts so closely. As the hours passed, you still had no way of guessing your ultimate destination, but you trusted that wherever it was, Din had chosen a perfect setting for the final days of your vacation. Already on this trip, you appreciated his consideration and all the thoughts that had gone into planning such a vacation. You couldn’t believe that it could get any better than this.

Although your journey felt as though it had only taken a few minutes – you were so enthralled by the various sights and sounds that time had seemed to pass at a rapid pace – several hours later, you finally made it to your ultimate destination.

“Welcome to the Lake Country, cyare,” Din finally said, when the speeder’s pace had slowed enough that he could be heard.

You were stunned that Din had gone to such lengths to bring you here. You had heard whispers of how beautiful the lakes of Naboo were, how secluded and isolated they were, their location nestled between the most beautiful hills. Instantly, you saw that the rumours were correct and found yourself immediately in awe of your surroundings. It was the most stunning place you had ever been, not least because of the stunning man who you had travelled here with.

Din dismounted the bike first, offering you a gloved hand to help you off the saddle. The hours of riding should have taken their toll and caused you to seize up, but a combination of your beautiful surroundings and handsome companion had done wonders for your joints. You had no aches and pains. Din grabbed your belongings and headed towards the building he had brought you to. You followed Din, admiring his broad shoulders and gleaming beskar as you went. Even from behind he was a sight to behold.

When you finally glimpsed your immediate surroundings, you were awestruck by the opulence of the lodgings Din had selected, even slightly embarrassed as you considered how expensive it must have been. You knew that Din worked hard and the New Republic paid him handsomely, not least because of how skilled he was at his job, but you still felt slightly embarrassed that he was splurging on you. As if he could detect your slight hesitancy, when the man behind the desk turned to get your keys, Din addressed your unease.

“Relax, cyare. We can afford this,” Din whispered, comfortingly.

“Are you sure Din? I can’t even imagine how much this cost,”

“Good job you don’t have to,” Din nodded, bringing his hand to the small of your back once again.

You sighed, knowing that you should not allow such a small thing to ruin such a perfect vacation. You wanted to appreciate every second. You glanced around the reception, with its marble floors and wide, floor-to-ceiling windows which led straight to the lake just by the hotel, you found your shoulders relaxing slightly. Appreciating the sounds of the birds chirping, the leaves rustling in the slight breeze and the water lapping around the side of the lake only relaxed you further. You trusted Din entirely, with every atom of your being. If he said that you could afford this and wanted you to have a good time, then that was precisely what you would do.

After the man behind the ornate oak desk handed you the keys, you and Din made your way upstairs to your room. Once again, Din refused all of your offers to help him with the bags. You rolled your eyes at him affectionately, he could be so stubborn sometimes, but you knew his heart was always in the right place.

As soon as you stepped through the door to your suite, you heard Din remove your helmet from behind you. But you were too transfixed by the sight before you to turn to face him, despite how much you yearned to look at him after so many hours of hiding his handsome features behind his helmet.

You were standing in the most incredible room you had ever seen, with a breathtaking view of the lake outside. Your eyes should have been awed by the pristine water just outside the window, but instead, you found your gaze focusing on a bouquet of beautiful red flowers which was standing on the ebony table with the intricately carved base which sat just in front of the windows.

As you got closer, you realised it was a bouquet of Millaflowers, a local flower plucked fresh from the meadows of Naboo. The red blooms of the flowers took your breath away as you stood before them, shimmering in the late afternoon sun. You reached out to caress the soft petal between your thumb and forefinger.

“They’re beautiful, Din,” you sighed in appreciation. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome, mesh’la,” Din replied, his voice low as you heard his heavy footsteps approach. “Beautiful Millaflowers for my beautiful riduur,” Din whispered as he snaked his arms around your waist, nuzzling kisses into your neck.

There were so many incredible sights which lay just beyond the confines of your room, stunning beauty that you had been determined to see until the first touch of Din’s lips against your skin. Now, nothing out there seemed as appealing as the prospect of getting the gorgeous man, who was ardently trailing kisses down your neck, into the luxurious four-poster sleeper a few paces away.

“Din, the lakes,” you murmured, in a feeble attempt to stop his ministrations. Outstanding beauty was abundant just beyond your room, you knew that it would be a waste to miss enjoying such a landscape by giving into your desire for each other.

“Later, cyare,” Din whispered as he spun you around in his arms so that you were facing him.

With one look in those brown eyes, darkened with lust, you knew that resisting any further was not an option. The lakes could wait, Din seemed determined to have you, and who were you to deny him what he wanted? Your riduur banished all further protestations which lingered on your tongue by capturing your mouth with his plush lips. You moaned softly and Din pulled away, his chest heaved from kissing you so eagerly. You noticed, with a smirk, that his lips were already swollen, such was the ferocity of your kisses.

“Dank farrik, I want you so badly,” Din breathed. You could tell that he was struggling to contain his desires, not least because of the hardness you felt trapped between your bodies.

“Then take me, Din,” you whispered, biting your lip as you extended the invitation to him.

The giggles that had started when Din scooped you up into his strong arms and carried you across the room to the sleeper, soon vanished. Your lighthearted yelps and shrieks turned to lustful gasps and moans. Din had delicately placed you on the luxurious sheets and wasted no time as he began showing you precisely how much he desired you. He worshipped your body with his mouth, attentive to your every moan, listening carefully to your reactions which dictated precisely where he placed his fingers and tongue. Din dove into his task as though he was a starving man, with all the care and dexterity that had served him so well during his many years as a bounty hunter…

✯✯✯

Later, you were grateful for the breeze which wafted into the room through the opened windows. It cooled your entangled bodies as you lay there in the afterglow. Din was wrapped around you as tightly as the vines, which could be found in the thick undergrowth surrounding the lake and periodically crept up the stunning stone buildings that were so characteristic of the town. The croaking and chirping of the animals outside merged perfectly with Din’s even breaths, it was a much-needed moment of peace after such a hectic day. When you had cried his name out one last time in ecstasy, Din had finally allowed himself to join you. He chanted your name as though it were a sacred prayer. Then, he had gathered you against his chest, your head resting against his strong, broad warmth which you almost wanted to engulf you. You had watched with a smirk, from your position on his warm, firm chest as his lids had grown heavy. Although you wanted to enjoy your evening with Din and make the most of your time here, you could not begrudge him some rest. He had certainly earned it, not just for his exertions between the satin sheets of your four-poster sleeper, but also in planning such a thoughtful trip.

✯✯✯

Plush, soft lips that placed a tender kiss on your forehead roused you from the slumber you had unintentionally fallen into. Apparently, you had joined Din in a peaceful, much-needed nap to regain your strength after your earlier pursuits. Your eyelids fluttered open, to see the strong nose and soulful brown eyes of your riduur staring back at you. If he didn’t stop looking at you like that, you feared that the two of you would leave the Lake Country without having seen anything except your four-poster sleeper. Then, Din leaned in to capture your lips with his, his warm breath hot against your face. You smiled against Din’s mouth as your lips brushed against each other. You giggled softly in the early evening light as his facial hair tickled your face. Recently, he had begun to keep his whiskers a little longer, allowing the scruff around his jaw to grow out. It was a sight you adored, your heart swelling as he pulled away, allowing you to admire his more distinguished appearance, as the patchy brown hairs were now smattered with grey.

“So handsome,” you breathed, cupping Din’s jaw with your hand and gazing at him reverentially.

“Cyare,” Din warned, his eyes dark with lust again. “If we don’t stop…” Din trailed off, swallowing thickly. “I can’t keep my hands off you. We won’t see anything of this town…”

✯✯✯

Although it was a few hours later than you had anticipated, you and Din had finally made it out of your lodgings. You had made various attempts at leaving the sleeper, only to find strong arms and large hands hungrily pulling you back into his embrace. Finally, you had insisted on leaving the satin sheets and Din’s arms in order to use the fresher. You had thought you had gotten away with it. You were confident of it, in fact. That was until you switched on the shower.

Your thoughts had been quite innocent as the sight of a real shower had been too much to resist. You were so used to the unsatisfying sonic of your cabin on Nevarro, that the prospect of washing yourself in a real shower had been too tempting for your resolve. Apparently, imagining your naked form underneath the hot jets of a real shower had also sparked something in Din and he had soon joined you, delaying your departure further. You had to admit it had been well worth it, though.

When Din had eventually left you alone long enough so that you could finally put some clothes on, the two of you enjoyed a peaceful dinner on the private terrace which was attached to your room. You were not used to such luxuries and once again felt almost embarrassed, but Din had reminded you not to worry.

Your lips curved into a smile when you remembered the way he had looked into your eyes and said so earnestly:

“I want to take care of you, ner riduur, and treat you to the finest things in the galaxy. You deserve only the finest things in life.”

Although you had called for dinner slightly later than you had initially planned, thankfully the staff had been happy to accommodate you. Having dinner brought to you was a luxurious experience. Clearly, the hotel was used to entertaining the galaxy’s elite. You were not used to being made to feel so important and were initially embarrassed, but with Din’s soothing presence by your side, accompanied by his kind words, you struggled to feel anything except relaxed.

Now, the two of you were strolling towards one of the more secluded lakes so that you could take a swim together. Although the town was already relatively quiet, you and Din wanted to relax away from anyone else. You hoped that he would be able to remove his helmet, but you were not expecting it. You would never push him to make such a move, respecting his adherence to his Creed entirely.

The various lakeside creatures were chirping in the warm, breezy air. You sighed in contentment and squeezed Din’s free hand tightly, delighted that you could feel his skin on your own. He carried a small basket in one hand and held your hand in the other. Din was dressed down in cotton clothing, without his beskar’gam, save for the helmet. Despite the clothes’ intended loose style, the material still hugged his frame and accentuated a feature you loved so much: his broad shoulders.

It was the final evening of the Festival of Love celebration, a culmination of several days of festivities and various people were milling around the secluded town. Although Din’s helmet was still drawing eyes from the various couples you passed, they were not as piercing as the gazes you drew when Din was dressed in full beskar’gam. It was exhilarating to be surrounded by so many people who were equally as in love as the two of you, strolling around the lakes and enjoying each other’s company, just like you and Din.

Before you met Din, you weren’t sure whether you believed in true love, or soulmates. To be honest, you still weren’t entirely sure even now. However, you knew that if either of the things existed, Din was your answer to those questions. There was not one day that had gone by since you had confessed your feelings for each other that he had not made you feel all of his love. You knew that you were the most important thing in the galaxy to him, alongside Grogu, of course. There was not one place he would not travel to for you, likewise you would follow him anywhere. You had never doubted the depth of his devotion to you. If you thought about it for long enough, it could almost reduce you to tears.

Fortunately, before you could fully break down into tears over how much you loved your incredible riduur, the two of you finally arrived at the lake. Despite the sun having set several hours ago, it was an incredibly humid night on Naboo and you were eager to dive into the cool waters. You hastily began removing your outer clothes to reveal your swimwear and heard the rustling of Din behind you doing the same. You were so caught up in undressing yourself, that you were stunned when you turned around to be greeted by the sight before you.

“Din, your helmet…” you murmured, shocked at his appearance. You had not heard his helmet depressurise, the last thing you had been anticipating was that his brown eyes would be peering back at you.

“It’s fine, cyare. We’re alone,” Din reassured you, dismissing your concerns. “Besides, it’s as dark as Malachor out here. Even if someone were to happen upon us, they wouldn’t be able to see anything.”

You nodded slowly, accepting his explanation. Adhering to Din’s creed was important to him and it was something that always lingered in the back of your mind. If he was ever rendered an apostate on account of something he had done for your benefit, you would never be able to forgive yourself. Fortunately, you had no more time to dwell on that depressing thought and the importance of his Way, as Din turned on his heel and dived into the cool water below. He shrieked slightly at the coldness, before emerging and pushing his wet curls away from his eyes.

“What are you waiting for?!” Din yelled, encouraging you to join him.

You ran up to the lake’s edge, giggling as you went. The laughter was halted abruptly as the coldness of the water shocked your body, as though needles pricked every inch of your body. The shock dissipated as you resurfaced, but you were still keen to locate your riduur in the lake and feel Din’s body next to yours. You sighed contentedly as Din’s strong arm snaked around your waist and pulled you in close to him.

✯✯✯

After swimming to your heart's content, you and Din cuddled up together on a blanket by the water’s edge. Your head lay on his bare, muscular chest as his arms curved around and under your body, resting together on your waist. Every few minutes, he would drop a lazy kiss somewhere on your face. You were certain you had never been in more beautiful surroundings in your entire life. It was far after dark now, but every star in the entire galaxy seemed to be burning brightly above your heads. You sighed happily as the twinkling stars were joined by a throng of fireflies glinting around the lake. You could faintly make out the lapping of the waves and the silhouette of the hills all around you. Everything was perfect.

Somehow, it was about to get better.

It seemed that Naboo had one final surprise for you. It was a surprise that was initially an unwelcome one, as the explosions startled you at first. Sensing your anxiety, Din placed a protective arm around you, drawing you further into his side as he placed a soft kiss on your temple.

“They’re just fireworks, cyare,” Din murmured against your skin. “To celebrate the Festival of Love.”

You relaxed then, appreciating the moment. You wanted to commit every moment to memory, every juncture where your body touched Din’s. The chirping and croaking of the creatures, the water lapping against the lake’s edge. The technicolour sparks that rained down across the valley on every side. Your jaw hung open in wonder as you looked up, across the stars and the fireworks.

You were certain that you had never felt so happy and loved in your entire life.

#din djarin smut #din djarin fic #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #mando x reader #mando x you #pedro pascal characters #my fics

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loveroftoomanyfandoms · 3 months

Text

Sweet on You, Chapter 1

Pairing: Matt Murdock x F!Reader

Rating: M (Rating Subject to Change)

Story Summary: You had joined 'Sugar and Spice' in a desperate attempt to help your mother with her medical bills, so when an opportunity comes along to make a lot of money simply by spending time with a lonely attorney, you jump at the chance -- not expecting to fall for him in the process.

Tired of one-night-stands, Matt Murdock decides to sign up for a sugar daddy/sugar baby website, where he stumbles across your profile. However, despite making it clear that he only wants a platonic arrangement, Matt eventually finds himself falling for you.

Will the two of you be able to come to a permanent arrangement or will more than a contract be broken?

Warnings/Tags: Sugar Daddy!Matt Murdock, No Age Gap, Alternating PoV, No Use of Y/N

Word Count: ~1100

A/N: Thank you to everyone who liked and reblogged the teaser! A few notes before we dive in:

-- While Reader's age is not actually specified in this, it's stated several times that she's closer to Matt's age than most women on the 'Sugar and Spice' website.

-- Matt & Reader do not actually refer to each other as their sugar baby/sugar daddy (although for all intents and purposes, that's what they are).

-- Divider is by the insanely talented (and just as awesome IRL as she is on Tumblr) @theradioactivespidergwen!

-- This is rated M for now, however rating may possibly go up in later chapters. 😈

-- If you'd like to be added to the taglist or if I've tagged you by mistake, please let me know!

Tag List: @danzer8705 @capylore @shouldbestudying41 @atemydadforbreakfast

No, it's fine, Mom, I promise,” you said as you spoke to your mother over the phone. “It's not your fault you got laid off and lost your medical insurance right before you got sick.”

“It's not your responsibility to pay my medical bills, sweetheart,” your mother protested. “I'll come up with the money somehow.”

You shook your head even though you knew your mother couldn't see you. “You’ve sacrificed so much for me, Mom. Let me do this for you.”

Your mother sighed. “Okay, fine. But only because you just got that big raise at work.”

You cleared your throat awkwardly. “Uh, yeah. Lucky me. Listen, Mom, I have to go, but I'll call you tomorrow, okay?”

“Okay. Love you, sweetie.”

“Love you too. Bye.”

You hung up and blew out a breath. You knew your mother wouldn't approve if you told her the real way you had been affording to make payments towards her medical debt for the past several months.

The truth was that your job as an administrative assistant barely even covered your own bills, so you had been supplementing your income through alternative means.

You had joined Sugar and Spice after one of the junior admin assistants had confided in you that she had managed to put herself through college by dating rich older men for money. “It's actually not a bad gig,” she had told you. “Most of them really just want arm candy to show off to their friends.”

You had gone home that night and checked out the website, and after discovering that you could select your comfort level/how far you were willing to go (by indicating that you were into either ‘sugar’ or ‘spice’) you had signed up.

It had been working out okay -- you had only been making a few hundred dollars extra a month so far because most of the men on Sugar and Spice wanted someone much younger than you were, but you had at least been able to scrape together enough to make the monthly payments on your mother's medical bills.

And speaking of…

You grabbed your laptop and pulled it over to you, then navigated to your Sugar and Spice account, pleased when you saw that you had gotten a new inquiry.

You clicked on it.

Hi, the message read, I ran across your profile and I think you might be what I'm looking for. If you're interested and available please message me back at your earliest convenience. Thank you.

You huffed out a laugh. Usually the messages you received weren't quite so… polite, so to speak.

You clicked on the sender's profile.

Matthew, 35

Occupation: Attorney

Interested in: Sugar

Huh. Matthew was a lot younger than most of the men who frequented the site. Maybe that'll be a good thing.

You clicked the reply button. Hi, Matthew, you typed. I am available if you'd like to discuss things further.

You got up to fix yourself some tea, and by the time you came back you had another message from Matthew. Great! Is it okay if we meet in person to discuss possible terms of an agreement? Over coffee, maybe?

Okay, you replied once again. When and where would you like to meet?

The Brew Towers on Saturday, say, 9 AM?

That works for me.

Your eyebrows raised as a notification popped up stating that you had received $100 from Matthew.

As a sign of good faith , Matthew explained. See you Saturday.

See you Saturday.

You logged out and closed your laptop, butterflies fluttering in your stomach. This was the first time you'd be meeting a potential client in person and needless to say, you were nervous.

Matt sat back and took another sip of the glass of whiskey he had poured himself before he had signed up on Sugar and Spice. He had been in court earlier that day and had overheard a conversation during recess between opposing counsel about Nesbit’s much-younger girlfriend.

“How'd an old dog like you manage to score a hot piece of ass like that?” Peterson had asked jokingly.

Nesbit had chuckled. “You'd be amazed at what you can find on the internet these days. Let's just say Candy and I have a… business arrangement.”

Peterson had dropped his voice down to a whisper. “She's not an escort, is she? You know the partners don't want wind of any kind of impropriety possibly getting out to the public--”

Nesbit had made a dismissive sound. “No, nothing like that. You ever heard of Sugar and Spice, that website that connects men of a certain wealth and caliber with women who are looking for someone to take care of them? Well, Candy and I met there. She takes care of my needs, and I take care of hers.”

“So, what, you pay her to date you?”

“In a way. I keep her happy by giving her money and buying her things, and she lets me do whatever else I want when I'm not with her.”

Matt's eyebrows had furrowed. Maybe Nesbit had a point -- maybe it was easier to have a business arrangement with someone in order to fill the romantic void in his life rather than having to pick up a different woman every couple of weeks because they got too attached. Better to have someone who knows exactly what they're getting into.

As soon as he had gotten home he had looked up Sugar and Spice, and not finding anything in their terms and conditions that raised red flags, had signed up and began to browse through profiles.

After scrolling through profiles for over an hour and not finding anyone that piqued his interest he had almost gone ahead and given up when his voiceover function read out another profile header to him, this time for a woman who was at least closer to Matt's own age than all of the other women he had checked out.

He had listened to your profile then clicked the “Send Message” button, typing out a quick message and hitting send.

He had gone to answer the door for a delivery, and by the time he had gotten back to his laptop he’d had a reply.

Before he could second-guess himself Matt had asked you out for coffee, then sent $100 to your Sugar and Spice account to show you he was sincere.

He shut his laptop and stood, then headed to go shower and get ready to go out as Daredevil. He'd gotten a tip about a major drug shipment coming in through the docks that evening and needed to go stop it.

He'd worry about his love life later.

#lotmf writes #Sweet On You Masterlist #matt murdock x fem!reader #matt murdock x you #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock x f!reader

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yuusishi · 1 year

Note

Hiiii :D

Can I request Leona, Malleus, and either Lilia or Idia(I love them both and I cannot choose) with an s/o who frequently has nightmares and so they're constantly tired from the lack of proper sleep?

. . . NOT SO SWEET DREAMS

pairings : Leona Kingscholar , Malleus Draconia , Idia Shroud x gn!reader

genre : fluff , established relationships

cws/tws : none

a/n : I hope this got through well, I rarely have dreams but I have frequent sleep paralysis which feels nightmarish enough 💀 also new divider <3 this one is so cute

Leona Kingscholar !!

He didn't really care until both of you became close, he knew college students were tired all the time so he thought you were just one of them.

He always noticed how your eyes were always drooping in every class except PE, shoulders always relaxed and your head tilting and then snapping up.

But when you two became friends and eventually partners, that's when the concern and curiosity started.

He would be blunt, "Oi Herbivore, you're starting to look like a racoon with those bags under your eyes, anything going on?"

He's mean, but that's just how he shows he's worried for you.

You were nervous telling Leona, thinking that he might find your reason for lack of sleep childish.

He blinked a few times, then asked if you wanted to sleep in his room in hopes it can relax you.

If he feels the space next to him shift harshly he'd wake up in a heartbeat, he won't say anything, instead slowly dragging you back down to lay down next to him again, this time his arms protectively around you.

He'd try to attend your classes to keep an eye on you since half the time you're in class you look like you're on the verge of passing out.

The teachers are thanking the stars that Leona’s finally attending class, but they notice that if you’re not there then he isn’t either…

You sleep in his room 99% of the time now, even if your nightmares have lessened already.

Malleus Draconia !!

Before you explained to him your predicament he often thought you were deathly sick. He tried to get the specialist doctor for the royal family to go to NRC just to take care of you 💀

After you told him that nightmares are causing your lack of sleep, he put down his quill that was about to call the doctor over.

Now you have a new sleeping buddy!

Malleus decided that he will now be sleeping in your room until you both figure out how to solve your nightmare problem.

At first Malleus was confused how nightmares are able to affect a person this much, but chalked it up to the mentality of humans being weaker than faes.

While you sleep he secretly uses magic on you, nothing that can permanently change your state of mind but one that can hopefully give you a pleasant sleep.

He wants to use a spell on you to dispel all the thoughts that cause your nightmares, he really does, but the dangers of using a spell like that on a mere human scares him. He'd never be able to forgive himself if it harmed you instead.

He tries to get you to have small power naps between classes to give you more energy, the only exception is during lunch breaks since you need to use that for eating.

He's surprisingly strict with you getting sleep between classes, if you have to do homework he'll sit next to you to make sure you focus and finish it within the break.

Once you're done expect to be gently pulled down for your little morning/afternoon nap.

You remind him of Silver sometimes when he sees you've fallen asleep in the classroom or under a tree in the botanical garden.

Idia Shroud !!

"[NAME]-SHI, A-ARE YOU ALIVE?"

Thought you were kind of dead when you were having a particularly more sleep deprived day than usual.

After you told him of your current condition, he secretly went to work on a device.

A device that can release soothing soundwaves that you can't even hear from a naked ear! It's small too so you can carry it with you if you're going out of town.

Tries to say that it wasn't much trouble when you thank him, he definitely didn't spend the entire week trying to figure out how to make it quiet enough and how to make it tiny and lightweight.

Poor boy's hair is completely pink and flaming when you tell him you finally got a semi-good night's sleep thanks to his invention.

If you tell him that you want to sleep next to him to relax and be more comfortable, he actually died and ascended on the spot, that's why he's staring at you like he just saw a ghost.

"Idia...? Are you okay?" he realizes that he was staring and holding his breath "YES! I'm o-okay...and! You can sleep in my room..."

Usually people would sleep next to their partners at night, but Idia needed some more time to ready himself and that was time you were willing to give.

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #disney twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland fluff #leona kingscholar x reader #leona x reader #malleus draconia x reader #malleus x reader #idia shroud x reader #idia x reader

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moodywyrm · 9 months

Text

loser college barista ellie

physics major ellie williams who works part-time at an on-campus coffee shop, because somehow she has time for it? it's really just because she has a terrible sleep schedule and an unfair amount of natural academic talent (undiagnosed something!).

Ellie, who hates the smell and taste of coffee, working in a coffee shop. she'd never admit it, but part of it is because it reminds her of Joel and somehow that keeps her sane amidst her terrible workload. He comes to visit sometimes, and, every single time, Ellie sneaks him free black coffee.

Ellie, who does readings and homework during her shift, especially since she works the slow hours where pretty much everyone is in class. So like, 10am to 3pm.

Coincidentally, those are pretty much the exact times you have a break between your classes on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday. And studying in the library gets Exhausting at some point, so you eventually shifted to studying at the coffee shop.

Ellie didn't really notice at first, because, honestly, being a physics major is full time job. She did however think you were very cute every time you came up to get your drink. You always smelled good, a welcome reprieve from the heavy coffee smell she dealt with for hours. The more you came, the more she noticed your clockwork schedule, your signature scent, the twinkle of the door chimes at almost exactly 10:15 every MWF.

Fuck, can you imagine being one of Ellie's regulars? Shout out to the anon who came in to tell me they'd became a regular at a coffee shop bc now this is ingrained in my mind. At some point, when she sees you approaching the shop, she just starts prepping your order.

she calls you by your name and you think she's so suave and attractive, but in reality she's freaking the fuck out on the inside. she gets nervous talking to pretty girls!! especially pretty girls that she sees every day at her work while she's wearing the nerdiest apron in the world.

she slowly but surely develops a debilitating crush on you, literally because she spends so much of her time looking over at you and seeing how intensely you study. you spend hours sitting there, switching between books and notebooks and your laptop, a cute little furrow living permanently between your brows. she takes note of the way your grip tightens around your pencil when you're frustrated, or the way you calm down when you open a book that has nothing to do with your studies. she also notes the longing looks you send towards the pastry case.

she had to be so brave about it, but one day she finally got the courage to bring you one of the pastries you kept staring at. doesn't even give you a chance to protest before she says "it's on the house" and scrambles back behind the counter to beat herself up because Who Says That! What if you didn't want that pastry or any pastry! What if you think she's a weirdo now!

She's literally driving herself insane, but she manages to look over at you and sees the little smile on your face as your bite into the treat. You light up, because it's so good and Ellie was so cute, and honestly that makes it all worth it for her.

I know in the second game Ellie doesn't eat much, likely as a result of all the trauma she experienced, and I think this would transfer over to a modern au in a less trauma-related way. She doesn't eat much when she's on campus for some reason! Which means she usually doesn't take advantage of the one free food item she gets on every shift, although she always take the free drink. Sometimes she'd give them to Dina or Jesse if they mentioned they hadn't eaten that day or were otherwise hungry, but on MWF, that treat is Yours.

What's funny and so loser of Ellie, is that, even when she's giving you a free pastry three times a week, she has yet to have a prolonged conversation with you. The routine is always small talk when you pay for and get your drink, and then pining stares when you sit down to study, a thank you when she brings you a treat, and a little goodbye when you head off to class. that's it. Dina 100% clowns Ellie for it because girl c'mon, you can feed her but you can't talk to her??

no. no she can't.

There's so much about you that just makes Ellie wanna go into the backroom and Scream. Like when you showed up with two friends and you were so vibrant you lit up the room. On your own you were always quiet, beautiful and quiet and relatively calm. But with you friends, you were so bright Ellie had to look away. And god, your laugh! She loves your laugh, and the way you look after your friends, buying their coffees and making sure they eat, helping them study. She already knew you were sweet, but god now you're downright angelic in her eyes.

Ellie is Enamored!! Infatuated!! Crushing so so so hard!!! and she doesn't know how to flirt with you :( what will she do!! (probably go to Dina about it) (but that's for another post <3) (that's all folks!)

#ellie williams #ellie williams x reader fluff #ellie williams x reader #ellie williams fluff #tlou2 fluff #tlou2 x reader #college barista ellie

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murdrdocs · 2 years

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girl with the tattoo | e.munson

description. eddie pays for your first tattoo without knowing what it is you’re getting. when you finally show him, he practically flips his shit.

includes. SMUT 16+, dom! eddie, sub!reader, slightly meandom!eddie, doggy style sex, cum play (it’s nasty tbh), handcuffs, degradation, praise, pet names, ass slapping, sweet boyfriend eddie,the whole nine yards it seems, unprotected sex, creampie, fem!reader, AFAB!reader, very brief rimming

a/n. eventually i will stop naming fics after songs but no time soon. this has been sitting unfinished in my docs for so long that i just had to suck it up and finish it so. here we are :D also longest fic i’ve written in a while

word count. 3.6k+ words

Eddie was not known for his patience.

In all of your years of knowing him, you had never seen him display any act of patience. He liked for things to happen immediately, almost as if he only knew what patience is but not how to possess it. Sometimes, just to mock him you would tell him that “patience is a virtue”, only for him to say, “Yeah, whatever that means”.

Knowing about Eddie's impatient personality, you knew that it was going to be hell to keep your new tattoo a surprise. He obviously knew you were getting it, as he was the one funding the new piece. But when you told him that he couldn’t accompany you to the appointment, you swore that he was going to go into cardiac arrest.

He had a mini meltdown, but you managed to calm him. Only for a few hours though as he quickly began to realize that when you said he couldn’t see it, you meant he couldn’t see it until it was healed.

What followed was 2 and a half weeks of Eddie only being allowed to see small fractions of your skin, and using his critical thinking skills to eliminate the places where your tattoo could be, narrowing it down to your upper thigh, ass or boobs.

All the while, you promised him it would be worth it. And while at first he didn’t believe you, now, he truly does.

Because there you are, sitting on his bed with your legs folded under you, wearing a pretty underwear set and looking like the most delicate thing he’s ever seen.

“Do you wanna see it?” You ask, voice light and just a little bit shaky as if you’re nervous.

Eddie was so distracted by just how beautiful you looked that he forgot that you were here for a reason. He’s this close to asking what exactly the ‘it’ is, but then his brain restarts and he comes back to himself, nodding his head so hard he has to stop before it begins to hurt.

You take a deep breath, chest rising and putting your cleavage even more on display. Finally gathering the courage, you shuffle around until your back is facing Eddie. Your head turns, shoulder coming to your chin as you peek back to glance at Eddie.

His dark eyes work to find the tattoo, scanning every crevice of your back from top to bottom until there, he finds it.

Sitting in the middle of your back, directly above your mesh pink panties, is a black butterfly etched into your skin. On either side is some impressive, symmetrical line work, enhancing the focus of the design which is the insect.

Eddie doesn’t respond for a while, and if it weren’t for his heavy breathing and occasional blinking, you would think that he was unconscious.

“Do you like it?” You eventually ask, beginning to shrink in on yourself in fear that you made a permanent mistake.

“Like it?” Eddie repeats, beginning to approach you. “Baby, I love it.”

He reaches a hand out, the right one, and sprawls his fingers out over the tattoo. You flinch at the cold metal of his rings and Eddie chuckles, mumbling out a halfhearted “sorry” before he singles out his pointer fingers and trails it over the linework.

“Really?” You ask, voice light and hopeful. “I was really nervous your guy would fuck it up.”

Eddie’s finger is now in the middle of your back, at the pointed end of the heart and close to the line of your panties. “Adonis never fucks up tattoos. Dude’s got a touch for these sorts of things.”

He takes his finger away and for a brief second, you miss his touch. But you don’t have to miss it for long because then Eddie’s hands grip your waist, his thumbs rubbing soft circles into your skin as you turn your head back around to stare at the wall in front of you.

Eddie begins asking you questions about your tattoo; if it hurt during the process, how long did it take. He insists that he should’ve been there to hold your hand and crack jokes, but you reassured him that you had a friend to rely on.

Eventually, you have to reorient him by simply speaking his name.

“Hm?” He hums, thumbs still rubbing your skin.

You sigh, turning your head and glancing over your shoulder. Eddie instantly meets your eye, like a compass to the north.

“You sure it doesn’t look bad? I didn’t make a mistake, right?”

Eddie’s face softens completely. “A mistake? Baby, this is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen. You were already so fucking hot but with this tattoo? Whew!” Eddie is back to being theatrical, hands leaving your back to dramatically fan his face.

You giggle, taking the moment to turn your body around completely, shuffling in a semicircle using your knees.

Eddie calms down, his gaze getting that look to it as he tilts his head down. His hand reaches out to find yours, gently tugging it forward.

“Just feel what it does to me. Feel what you do to me.” He brings your hand to his crotch, letting you palm him through his skinny jeans. You can feel the growing bulge against your hand, the familiar feeling igniting that urge within you, sinking all the way down to your belly.

“Eddie.” You whisper, watching Eddie’s tongue dart out to lick his lips.

“It’s healed, right?” He asks. You nod softly and the movement is halted a little too soon when Eddie lunges forward to push his lips against yours.

You welcome his kiss, both of your hands reaching up to cup Eddie’s face. His hands wrap around your wrist, and then he’s pulling them off of his face and guiding them behind your back, one wrist over the other.

When he pulls his hands away, yours stay obediently in their position. You feel Eddie’s smirk against your lips and it acts as a form of nonverbal praise.

Eddie pulls his lips away from yours and you have to restrain yourself from chasing them. He doesn’t stray far and when he speaks you can feel his lips move against yours.

“Wanna fuck you while I look at that pretty tattoo. Will you let me do that?”

It takes you a second to realize that Eddie is asking to fuck you from the back, doggystyle. But when your brain is able to come to that realization, you nod so hard that your nose knocks into Eddie’s and your forehead bumps into his.

He smiles, big and wide, and steadies your head by gripping your cheeks, pushing them together and gazing lovingly at the sight. You attempt to smile and Eddie breaks out into a laugh, squishing and un-squishing your cheeks for the better half of a minute.

Eventually, you ask, “Are you gonna fuck me or not?” But your cheeks make the words come out as jumbled syllables and Eddie asks you to repeat it a few times, until he understands with a loud “Oh!”.

“Of course.” He chirps, pressing his lips to your squished ones before he drops his hands completely and instead uses them to maneuver you in the position he desires: your face pressed down into the sheets and your ass in the air.

Eddie marvels at the sight, wolf whistling at you for a moment. Your hands are still held obediently behind your back and by moving your shoulders, you bring Eddie’s attention to them.

“Just a few more,” He mumbles, trailing off as you hear him move away. You see him from the corner of your eye grabbing his pair of handcuffs. They’re a different pair from the silver ones he had before, these with black fur on the insides and a bit of cushion so they’re comfortable for you.

When he comes back around, his hands peel your panties off and you lift one knee at a time to let him slip them off. Then, his hands pull you up by your hips and his chest presses against your back as his arms encircle you, pulling yours from behind your back with the movement.

You watch as he directs you to position your wrists side by side against your stomach, and then wraps the opened cuffs around each one and closes them with a few clicks.

He kisses your shoulder, then your cheek, and mumbles something about not wanting to obstruct the view before he’s gently pushing your upper half back down and resuming his position behind you.

You wait in anticipation, taking in the sound of Eddie’s belt buckle, then the sound of his jackets hitting the ground, then the slide of his zipper and thudding of more denim hitting the ground.

Then, finally, you feel the bed dip behind you and you tense up, waiting while Eddie spreads your cheeks.

But you’re instantly relaxed when you feel Eddie’s tongue around your asshole, running around the puckered entrance in a circle.

The moan you let out is choked, shocked at first and then silky smooth once you get used to the feeling.

“Eddie, I–” All words are lost on your tongue at the foreign feeling.

“I know, sweetheart.” He pulls away for a second to tell you, then circling your hole twice more before pulling away completely. “Some other time.” He mumbles and you feel saddened for a second, but then Eddie is pushing his finger into your other hole, the one you’re used to, and you're moaning again, hips pushing back towards him.

Eddie hisses, the sound having a hint of shock and amusement to it. “Already so wet,” He muses. “Barely have to do any work.” Yet, he still pushes another finger into you, your cunt welcoming the added digit easily.

You don’t realize that you’re pushing yourself back, fucking yourself on Eddie’s fingers. But he does, stalling his hand and staring down at your ass moving forward and back with wide eyes. “So eager,” He comments, making you aware of your movements.

“Sorry.” You mumble, turning your head from having its cheeks to the sheets to instead force your entire face down into them, embarrassment taking over your entire body briefly as you scrunch your face up. It wasn’t your fault that you were left to your own devices for almost three weeks.

Although, it technically was your fault.

“‘S okay, baby. If it makes you feel any better, I’m eager to get into this tight little pussy.” You can hear the smile in his words and a giddy feeling fills up your body, starting from your pelvis and spreading to your chest where it's like little butterflies are flying.

You don’t have anytime to respond because then Eddie is asking you if he should use a condom or not. You hesitate, thinking over it and repositioning your cheek onto the covers.

Eddie gives you time to think, one of his large palms spreading over one of your ass cheeks, his fingers working to knead the flesh.

Eventually, you settle on a decision. “No condom,” You declare, eyes bright even though Eddie couldn’t see them.

“M’kay.” He says, a smile evident in his words, his palm disconnecting with your skin only to come back down onto it harshly, the rings on his fingers digging into your skin.

You flinch, mumbling a small “ow” into the sheets, to which Eddie gives a halfhearted ‘sorry’ in response to.

There’s some shuffling behind you. Eddie’s hands come to your hips and he manhandles you into the perfect position, pulling you back until your feet are hanging off the bed. He shifts his hips forward, his hands holding onto your hips tight, until his tip is right against your entrance.

You hold your breath, accidentally tensing before you force yourself to relax. Eddie rewards you by pushing in, slow and steady, allowing you room to adjust and get comfortable. He stops when he’s halfway through, and you’re the one to egg him on, pushing your hips backward until he gets the memo enough to bottom out.

Eddie wastes no time.

He pistons into you with a steady, moderate pace, not too fast nor slow. Yet, slower than you anticipated, but you’d welcome anything Eddie chooses to give you. And you tell him that with little, breathy gasps, turning your head to make sure none of them are muffled and are able to be heard by Eddie.

“There you go, pretty girl,” He says. You wonder if he’s speaking with the intended outcome of you hearing or not, because the words are so soft that the subtle squelch of your cunt sucking Eddie in, and letting him out, is louder.

Still, you let a little moan out in response, eyebrows pushing together as you attempt to hold yourself back from asking Eddie for more.

But eventually, you give in to your own needs.

“More, please, Eddie.” Is all you say, simple and pleading. You can practically hear the gears in Eddie’s head turning, attempting to decide if he should give in to you or not, the little devil and angel on his shoulders no doubt bickering amongst each other.

He ends up listening to the angel (which is you in pure white, but Eddie would never admit that), hips speeding up just enough for him to pick up the pace, but also with enough slow precision for him to bury himself deep in you, cock angled almost perfectly.

You help him out, babbling mumbles of ‘thank you’ while you tilt and turn your hips until Eddie’s cock hits that spot that you didn’t even know you were looking for.

The moan you let out is loud and chesty, coming from that same place where butterflies previously erupted.

“Right there?” Eddie asks, delivering repeated thrusts to that spot you’d angled him to. You nod, the movement uncomfortable due to the position of your head.

“There.” You confirm, back arching and pushing your cunt further back towards Eddie.

You groan, eyes rolling back into your head as you press your chest further down into the sheets. Eddie’s in you deep, hitting the spot you instructed him to, over and over and over again.

You know that you’re as physically close to Eddie as you could get, but there’s something in your brain that’s telling you that you could get closer. Like a pied piper, you follow it.

You move your arms from against your chest to above your head, fingers curling around a pillow you can find. With a few inches of freed space, you fully press your chest against Eddie’s bed, tits squished against the sheets that were definitely not cleaned since the last time you were here.

Your mouth’s open, drool pooling out of the side between little moans you let out.

You can’t feel it, but there’s arousal dripping down your inner thighs, creating a pornographic trail, all leading to those same dirtied sheets. The sheets you’re currently making a mess of.

Hopefully, if things went your way, they would have an even bigger mess to them by the time Eddie was finished.

“Fuck,” Eddie groans from behind you, his fingers digging into your hips harshly. You whine and squirm, trying to get away from the bruising grip Eddie has on you.

But all of your squirming is gone when Eddie releases a hand onto your ass again, that sting replacing the one you felt before.

“Take it.” He grunts out, through clenched teeth from the sounds of it.

“‘M sorry,” You instantly say, body tensing as you do what Eddie tells you.

But then, as a direct contrast, that same hand he used to slap your ass rubs the burning flesh, soothing the slap.

“That’s okay, baby. Just a dumb little slut ‘f me. Can’t even control your own body. You can’t help it, can you?”

You’re shaking your head, immediately brushing over the words ‘dumb’ and ‘slut’ and only focusing on how Eddie said ‘for me’. Because everything you did was for him.

You’d even laid down on a tattoo bed for over an hour, in pain, just to get a little tattoo that you were sure that Eddie would like even more than you did.

Which, you were obviously right about.

“Everything’s for you, Eddie.” You mumble, words slurred from how cock drunk you were.

Eddie coos from behind you, his thumb now running along your new tattoo.

“Even this little tattoo?” He asks, slowing his pace a little as he becomes distracted by your new ink.

“Especially the tattoo.”

And his pace is sped up again, faster and sloppier than before.

He’s losing accuracy, hitting around that spot more than he’s hitting it. But you couldn’t care less. Because Eddie’s cock is stretching and fucking you so well, and his little grunts and moans and babbles behind you are better than any shitty porno you’ve ever sat down and watch.

You’re dazed, head floaty in a way that’s similar to when you and Eddie pass a blunt back and forth in the back of his van. You don’t even notice that you’re close, not until your body starts to chase that feeling, hips grinding and circling in a coordinating way with Eddie’s thrusts that you didn’t even think you could achieve.

“You close, princess?” Eddie asks, voice a bit shaky due to his movements.

You hum affirmatively, pitch high in a way that would make you cringe if you currently cared.

One of Eddie’s hands pulls you flush against him, his patch of pubic hair brushing against your ass, and his other hand curls around your body to reach between your legs and bring two fingers to your clit.

All it takes is a few circles and then the arch in your back is inverting, thighs shaking as every muscle in your face scrunches up.

You cum hard, your fingers squeezing the edge of the pillow you’d grasped onto so hard that you can feel your fingernails against your palm.

Eddie helps you through your orgasm in a painful way, not daring to slow his fingers around your clit or his thrusts into your tight canal.

You’re practically sobbing at this point, sweet little cries of Eddie’s name falling from your lips.

When your thighs have stopped shaking and you’re giving into Eddie’s touch instead of moving away from it, Eddie’s thrusts become even sloppier.

“Can you cum again for me, sweetheart?” Your mind is telling you that you can’t, but your body is telling you the exact opposite, an aftershock of an orgasm already building in your lower abdomen.

You don’t respond. You don’t have to. Eddie can feel your walls fluttering around his cock like the wings of a butterfly.

His pointer and middle fingers speed up around your clit and you’re bracing yourself at this point, muscles tensing and relaxing repeatedly until you trigger your own orgasm.

It’s not as big as the one before, but you’re not focusing on that. Instead, you’re focusing on the way Eddie is losing himself behind you, both of his hands back at your hips, his own hips slapping into yours in fast thrusts until you feel his cock twitch and then the hot spurts of his cum.

You both moan in harmony, the mutual feeling of Eddie’s release inside of you taking over both of you.

His hips push against yours in short, staccato thrusts, making sure all of his cum is inside of you before he pulls out.

Silently, Eddie watches the way you clench around nothing, thereby forcing his cum out of your hole for it to drizzle down onto your cunt.

“Shit,” He curses, the same two fingers he had on your clit dragging along your cunt, gathering his cum along the digits.

Then, you feel nothing until Eddie’s still warm cum drips onto your lower back, right over your tattoo.

“Eddie,” You start, head turning and upper half lifting off of the bed.

“Shh.” Eddie says, splaying a hand flat between your shoulder blades and pushing you back against the bed with a thud. “Just a little healing ointment for you.”

It’s disgusting, so absolutely disgusting, but you can’t help but enjoy the way Eddie rubs his cum into your skin like moisturizer. You sit still while Eddie works to massage your skin, spreading his cum along your lower back and over your sore ass cheeks.

Then, once he’s finished, he kisses in the middle of your back and steps back completely. But not before placing his hands along your waist and pulling your upper half up from the bed.

You roll over onto your back, bringing your hands down to rest against your stomach again while you stare at the ceiling.

“You’re disgusting, you know that?” You say to Eddie, letting your eyes look at him from over your nose.

Eddie hums, starting to head out of his bedroom door. He stops when he’s almost across the threshold, turning to look over his shoulder to say, “You’re the one who lets me be”. Which, you can’t argue there.

You lay back on Eddie’s bed in silence with his cum sticking along your skin and drizzling out of your cunt.

You’re mostly out of it while Eddie cleans you up, a warm cloth gently running along your pussy, calloused hands maneuvering you enough to clean up your ass and back. He kisses along your skin as he works, making sure to kiss along your wrists when he unlocks the handcuffs, and along your face and neck as he slips one of his shirts over your body.

You come to enough to take a few hits from a blunt that Eddie lights, telling him that you’re fine and that he wasn’t too rough between puffs.

But when he excuses himself to go in the kitchen and make Kraft mac and cheese, you’re already knocked out, eyes closed and body lax on the disgusting, grimy bed sheets.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things smut #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you #eddie munson x fem!reader #dom!eddie #celeste writes st #eddiesworld!

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