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violentdelightsandviolentends · 5 months

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Honey Girl. Chapter Six.

Chapter One. Chapter Two. Chapter Three. Chapter Four. Chapter Five. Chapter Seven. Chapter Eight. Series Masterlist. The Playlist.

Chapter Synopsis - You finally start to appreciate the happiness that having a soulmate brings.

Pairing - Dad'sBestFriend!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader - soulmate au

Warnings - smut. cursing. alcohol consumption. so much fluff.

Age Rating - 18+

Word Count - 5k

Author's Note - the sixth installment!! thank you to everyone who voted in my poll - I listened, and decided to make this chapter as sweet as pie, because I think we all need it. it's nice to have a little break from the angst. just a liiiiittle break though. a tiny one. as always, thank you for all of your love and support and enthusiasm and patience and kindness towards this story. so much love for every one of you. <3

as always, reblogs, comments and feedback (even anonymous feedback) are immensely appreciated!! your reblogs are the only way to circulate my fics, which keeps me going <3

Masterlist. Inbox.

"Are you happy?"

You stretch your feet further into the sand and sit up, wiggling to get comfortable on the picnic blanket.

"That's a big question to start with."

Stella laughs and closes her notebook, deciding to take a different route than originally planned.

"I just mean... be honest with me. I'm not gonna be offended if you say no."

"Do you think I'm gonna say no?"

"Do you always have to answer my questions with questions?"

You tilt your head and watch her, smiling softly.

"I thought this was supposed to be an employee performance review."

"You're not my employee and you know it."

Both of you laugh, the sound whipped away by the sea breeze.

"Then what am I, Stella?" you chuckle.

"You're basically my partner. Come on, we've done all of this together. You helped me build this business from the ground up - I couldn't have done it without you."

You go to protest, so she continues.

"I think you should be. My partner, that is. Obviously there's logistics to work out, but it'd be fifty fifty. You and I, co-owners. It doesn't feel right to me that you're my 'employee'. I'm not your boss. We're equals."

Your mind is running a mile a minute, trying to process what Stella's asking of you. Being her business partner is an opportunity you know is rare and incredibly special - and it could potentially set you up for life - but you can't help but think about the fact it's a big commitment. About home. About Bucky.

"You don't have to answer me right now - I just want you to think about it. We always talked about opening up businesses of our own. I should have asked you to be my partner at the beginning, but honestly... I didn't know if you were gonna stick around. It kinda felt like you had one foot out the door when we started."

You take a deep breath, nodding.

"Yeah. I, uh - I think I did. Don't get me wrong, I was super excited, but the idea of moving away when I felt like I'd just got home was a lot to process. I'd just settled back there, and then I was gonna be packing up all of my stuff again and shipping myself across the country. "

"I didn't realise it was so tough for you, you know. I just assumed you wouldn't mind moving. I mean, you were always up for it, back at school."

"Things changed, after I graduated. I got home, and a couple of things happened and I guess it just... turned everything upside down. Home is different now. In a good way, I think."

"You're different now, too."

You look at her carefully, half attempting to read her mind.

"How do you mean?"

"You're... more grounded. More careful. You think through everything way more than you ever did. Almost like you've realised you're not invincible anymore."

There's a feeling, when you're young, that you're indestructible. Unharmable. Broken bones mend, cuts and bruises heal, hearts and minds forget about their aches if you give them long enough.

Then one day, that feeling is gone. And you realise that you're mortal - made of flesh and blood and bones that will one day be returned to the Earth, whether you like it or not.

Meeting your soulmate is like having that realisation again, but bigger. Again, and again, and again. You don't live for yourself, anymore. You live for them. The pain they'd feel if they lost you is unfathomable, completely unimaginable.

So you become more careful. Less reckless. You drive a little slower, take things a little easier, quit your dangerous hobbies and unhealthy habits. You need to be alive for as long as possible. And you know your soulmate will do the same.

That's how you can tell a Tethered person from an Untethered one. Ask two people to go skydiving with you, and the Tethered one will tell you no. They can't risk it. It's not worth it.

Stella's right. You have realised you're not invincible anymore. You're a little more cautious when you climb ladders, you don't balance precariously on the kitchen counters anymore. You look twice when you cross the street, and don't risk it if there's a car coming and you could maybe get across.

You're also painfully aware that Bucky's older than you. He'll be turning forty in less than two years. Sure, he's not ancient, but it does mean you'll have less time together than Lacie will with Cameron, for example. And that hard truth makes you live a little less recklessly, every single day.

"I guess I just... grew up."

You're honestly not sure why you don't just tell Stella about Bucky. You know she'd understand. But there's a part of you that feels protective over what you have - territorial, even. Your Tethering is sacred, almost, and you feel the primal urge to guard it with your life. To lock it in a box and keep it away from anything that could harm it. The less people that know, the less damage that can be done. Maybe.

"I did too. The world is kinda scary now we're not in that little culinary school bubble, huh?"

"Yeah," you laugh. "We thought that was hard. Little did we know."

"Take your time, thinking about my offer. But just know that I really, really appreciate the fact that you're here. That you believed in me enough to move across the country. It means a lot."

"Of course," you say, reaching across to grab her hand. "I always believed in you, Stella. I always knew you'd do something great."

"We'd."

"Hmm?"

"We'd do something great. The two of us. Together."

"I always knew that we'd do something great," you correct.

You're starting to believe that, as time goes on. You were born to do this. You deserve to live your dreams.

Let the happiness seep through, you'd told yourself.

It finally feels like it is.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

"There's a guy here to see you."

Isabel pops her head around the door, grinning at you like she knows something you don't.

"Again?"

She nods, giggling.

"Let me guess... he's hot, tall, brown hair?"

"Bingo."

"Thanks, Isa. I'll be right out. Is it busy out there?"

"It's quieter than it was. There was a pastry rush this morning, but we're good now."

You laugh and hang up your apron, washing your hands quickly before making your way to the café.

You feel like you're having déjà vu, this situation oddly familiar.

Just like Isa said, he's stood waiting with his back to you, broad shoulders filling out his powder blue short sleeve button up.

You're excited to see Rafael again. You've been trying a new cookie recipe for his sister, and you're eager to get him to try it. You're mentally making a note to buy a nice box to put them in when you feel it.

The lights get a little brighter, the colours a little more vibrant. The tightness in your chest eases, allowing you to take a full, deep breath. You can suddenly hear the birds outside singing, melodies drifting through the open doors like a summer breeze.

The man turns around, and it's not Rafael.

It's Bucky.

You're moving before you can even process it, running and jumping into his arms. You inhale, revelling in his familiar scent. He's here. Your happiness has arrived.

"Surprise," he laughs quietly into your ear. "Miss me, honey girl?"

You beam a grin at him, pulling away to look at his handsome face.

"More than you'll ever know."

"Oh, I know. I feel it."

He places a hand over his heart gently, looking at you with pure adoration.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's been a month since your Mom's birthday. A month since I've seen your pretty face. A month too long."

You roll your eyes jokingly, so he continues.

"You don't mind that I'm here, do you? Because I'll go, if it's too much for you. I know me showing up unannounced is a lot to process."

"Don't go," you reply quickly, grabbing his hand. "I want you here, Buck. More than anything."

He leans in and presses his lips to yours, cradling your face in his warm hands. The background of the café melts away, the man in front of you the only thing that matters.

You pull away and smile at him, pressing your forehead into his gently.

"Come back to the kitchen with me. Let's get away from all the noise."

You grab his hand and pull him with you, ignoring the excited giggling from Isabel behind the counter.

Bucky perches against a counter, leaning back to allow you to stand in between his legs. You wrap your arms around his neck and peck his lips, stealing kisses in between giddy smiles.

"I hope you weren't expecting a day full of super exciting adventures. I've got a list full of stuff I've got to get finished by closing."

"Honey, I'm more than content to stay here and watch you work. There's nothing I love more than watching you bake."

You run your fingertips over his face carefully, gently tracing his features as you look at him.

"Are you sure?"

"Yes, I'm sure. I don't care what we do, as long as we're together."

You wrap your arms around his middle, holding him as tightly as you can.

"I feel like I hit the soulmate jackpot," you whisper.

"No one's as lucky as I am," he whispers back. "Now, come on. Let me see you work your magic."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

Bucky, it turns out, makes a damn good assistant.

Instead of just watching, he volunteers to help in whatever way he can. You set him onto weighing your ingredients, so you can focus on making and decorating. He takes his job very seriously, measuring down to the precise gram each time. You can't help but grin as you watch him concentrate, determined to get it right.

At lunch time, Isabel brings you both coffee and sandwiches, entering just as you're teaching Bucky how to properly fold in ingredients.

"Sorry, I hope I'm not interrupting anything."

"You could never. Isa, this is Bucky. Buck, this is Isabel. Our best waitress."

He holds out his floury hand for her to shake.

"It's nice to meet you, Isabel. I've heard a lot about you."

"You have?"

Her eyes light up as she looks at you, fighting the smile off her face.

"My honey talks about you all the time."

Isabel glances between the two of you, clearly trying to figure things out.

"And you two are..."

"Soulmates," you say at the same time as Bucky does.

Her jaw drops for a moment, before she laughs.

"Yeah. That makes a lot of sense, actually."

You roll your eyes at her lovingly before Stella's voice calls her name from out front.

"I better go. But me and you are gonna talk about this later."

"Fine," you laugh.

"Nice to meet you!" Bucky shouts after her, pressing a kiss to your temple. "I like that we're just telling people now."

"Yeah, me too, actually. I thought it'd be scary, but... it feels right."

He slings an arm around your middle, pulling you into his side.

"We've still got the two most important people left to tell."

Your muscles tense and Bucky feels it instantly, running his thumb in patterns over your hip gently.

"I've been thinking about it a lot. I'm almost ready, Buck. We can't avoid it forever. Next time I'm home, I think we should do it. We should tell them."

Bucky hooks two fingers under your chin, forcing you to look at him.

"Are you sure? Once we tell them, we can't undo it. We'll only do it if you're one hundred percent sure."

"I'll be ready when the time comes. It'll be a huge weight off of both of our shoulders, which I think we both need."

"Okay then," he says, kissing your forehead. "Next time you're home."

Isabel clears her throat from the doorway, smiling sheepishly.

"I can't believe I'm saying this again, but... there's a guy here to see you."

You laugh, untangling yourself from Bucky with a kiss to his cheek.

"Send him through. Thanks, Isa."

The man you were originally expecting to see this morning walks into the kitchen, envelopes in his hand.

"Hey!"

"Hey, Rafael."

He gives you a quick hug, before waving at Bucky.

"Hey, man. You've gotta be the soulmate, right?"

Bucky chuckles, coming over to shake Raf's hand.

"Yeah, that's me. How'd you know?"

"Are you kidding? You can feel it the minute you walk into the room. There's like, electricity in here."

You laugh, hiking yourself up to sit on the counter. Bucky stands next to you, arms crossed over his broad chest.

"Here," Rafael says, handing you an envelope. "We're having a gala next month, for the charity that has supported my sister. We'd love it if you could come - and bring your date too, of course."

"I'd love to," you say as you read the invitation. "Do you need me to bring anything? You know I'll happily make something, if you guys need it."

"You would?"

"Absolutely! I could bring a cake, if you like? I haven't done a proper, three tiered cake in forever. I'd love to."

"That'd be... amazing. Seriously. We just want to raise as much money as possible."

"Of course. Thanks for these, Raf. How is she?"

"She's okay. She's getting a tiny bit stronger every day, and that's all we can really ask for."

You reach a hand out to squeeze his in support.

"You know where I am if you need anything."

"Of course. Thank you, so much. I've gotta run - I've got like a hundred of these invites to deliver. But I'll see you at the weekend?"

"For sure. See you, Raf!"

"Nice to meet you, Bucky."

"You too, man. Take care."

Isa shows Rafael out of the door, winking at you on her way out.

"Damn, he's handsome," Bucky laughs.

"Isn't he?" you giggle. "Nothing on my soulmate though, I'm afraid."

"Shut up," he blushes, leaning in to capture your lips. "You wanna get dinner when you're done here?"

"Yes, please. I'll show you around my new apartment too."

"Can't wait."

There's not an ounce of tension in your muscles as you finish up your bakes for the day, gliding around the kitchen while Bucky stands and watches your every move.

If you could pause time, this would be when you'd do it. You'd be content to live in this moment forever.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The minute Bucky walks through your front door, he inhales deeply. The entire place smells like you, cosy and golden.

"You like it?"

"It's gorgeous, baby. I love the windows."

He makes his way over to your kitchen, where the glass panes run from floor to ceiling. Sitting on the bench pressed against it, he takes in the view, savouring the feeling of the sun on his face.

You sit down on his lap, draping your legs over him and wrapping your arms around his neck. Nuzzling your face into his jaw, you press a kiss to the stubble, resisting the urge to lick the salt off of his skin.

"Come on," you murmur. "Let me show you my bedroom. The sun sets in that direction, so it's always beautiful in there."

You grab his hand and walk him across the apartment, swinging open the door to your room and pushing him inside.

He takes in the space for a moment before turning in your direction, striding over to smash his lips to yours. You tangle your fingers into his shirt and pull him closer, letting him slip his tongue into your mouth with ease.

Bucky leans in to trail kisses down your neck as he slips your shirt over your head, making quick work of unclasping your bra with skilled fingers. He grasps your chest in both hands, massaging gently as he nips at your throat.

"So fucking pretty," he murmurs. "Haven't stopped thinking about you since you left me."

You whine and unbutton his shirt, shrugging it off his shoulders. You're desperate to see more, desperate to feel his skin on yours, desperate to bare every inch of him.

Your fingers make deft work of his belt, sliding it from its loops and throwing it to the ground. You unpop his button and slide down the zipper, pulling his jeans off his legs in no time. You shimmy out of your skirt, leaving you both in your underwear.

The evening sun seeps through the window panes, illuminating the room in hues of orange and gold. The light hits Bucky's skin, making him glow in a halo of love and adoration.

He walks you backwards, wrapping an arm around your back to throw you onto the white sheets of your bed. Crawling over you, he settles in between your legs, pressing gentle kisses from your ankles to your inner thighs.

"The way you look when you come has been burned in my mind," he whispers. "Need to see it again. It's been too long."

He slides your underwear down your legs and wastes no time, diving into you like a man starved. He devours you, tongue never ceasing it's movements. His hands pry your thighs apart, one arm thrown over your stomach to keep you still. When your muscles start to shake, Bucky doubles down on his efforts, lapping and sucking at you like you're his lifesource.

"Oh, Buck, I'm-"

You see stars as you come, white and silver shapes flying through your vision. Bucky never stops, prolonging your release for as long as he can. When you go boneless, he ceases, pressing kisses to the inside of your knee.

"You okay?" he murmurs, moving so his body smothers yours.

"I'm good," you smile, leaning up to kiss him. You groan when you taste yourself, wrapping your legs around his waist.

"Need you, baby. Please, Buck."

"You sure?"

You smile at him, cradling his face in your hands.

"Couldn't be surer."

He dips down to lick into your mouth once more, shucking his boxers off and throwing them across the room. Slipping a condom on, he lines himself up, eyes meeting yours.

"I need you more than I need air to breathe," he murmurs. "You know that, don't you?"

"Buck," you breathe. "I've been going crazy here without you."

He goes to speak, but stops himself, instead leaning down to kiss your forehead.

"I know," you whisper. "I know."

Bucky slides home in one smooth thrust, both of you gasping. One of his hands finds your hip, the other resting against your throat as an anchor. You wrap your legs around his waist, arms snaking around his shoulders.

"Fuck me, please."

"Fuck," he groans. "I'll be replaying that in my head forever."

You chuckle breathlessly, gasping when he draws his hips back and forward again. He sets an even pace - not too fast, not too slow. He has you right where he wants you, both of your bodies in perfect synchronisity. It feels like the stars have aligned. Everything's fallen into place.

Bucky dances his fingers from your hip to your clit, rubbing firm circles. He plays you like a violin, your muscles tensing as you get closer.

"That's it, pretty girl. Fuck, you're so good for me. You close, honey? Gonna come for me again?"

You nod frantically as he picks up his pace, hips colliding with yours. He groans as you tighten around him, head dropping to rest against yours.

"Come for me, honey girl," he whispers. "Please."

Your back arches as you find your release, nails scratching at the skin of Bucky's back. The pain tips him over the edge, spilling inside of you with a deep groan. He collapses on top of you, both of your chests heaving.

"I think we're naturals at that," you chuckle hoarsely.

"You think it's the soulmate thing, or are we just that good?"

"I think we're just that good," you laugh, pushing him off your body so he lands next to you. You link your fingers with his, resting your head on his chest.

"I need a drink."

"I was just thinking that, actually. You wanna go out? Know anywhere?"

"There's a cute little bar that looks out over the cove - it has good food and good cocktails. You wanna go there?"

"I'd go anywhere with you," he affirms, pressing a kiss into your hair.

"I'd kill for a pineapple margarita right now."

Bucky sits up suddenly, bringing you with him, arms wrapped around you.

"Then let's go get my girl a pineapple margarita."

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

The golden lights adorn the beams of wood above your head, the deck illuminated in the gentle glow. The ocean waves break the shore in a comfortingly repetitive motion, a calming soundtrack to the evening. You sit across from Bucky at your table for two, the sunset casting orange hues across the horizon.

"It's beautiful out here."

"Yeah," you agree, smiling. "The view is pretty good."

Your eyes haven't left his, lost in the sea blue of his irises. He chuckles, running his thumb over the back of your hand where it rests atop the table.

"This is our first date, you know."

"Really?"

"I mean, we've been 'dating' this whole time - but we've never gone out and had dinner like this. Held hands and all."

"You're right. Our first date of many, huh?"

"Our first of countless," he grins, brushing his lips over your knuckles in a gentle kiss.

"Where do my parents think you are?"

"Visiting a cousin in Nevada."

You laugh, and the sound makes Bucky light up, electricity running through his veins.

"You're a scarily good liar."

"To everyone but you."

"I used to think I was a good liar. Until I met you, that is."

Just as he's about to respond, your waitress appears, two pineapple margaritas in hand. She takes your orders and leaves, smiling at you.

"Oh, shit. She forgot to give us straws. I'm gonna grab some - be right back."

You chase her inside, tapping her shoulder gently.

"Excuse me - could I get a couple of straws, please?"

"Of course. Sorry!" she apologises, handing them to you.

"Thank you! Your shirt is so cute, by the way."

"Thanks - it's thrifted! You're gorgeous, girl. And your boyfriend is stupidly hot too. You're a pretty couple."

You thank her and laugh, returning to Bucky with a grin on your face.

"What's got you smiling?"

"The waitress called you my boyfriend."

"Huh. As much as I love the commitment... boyfriend kinda sounds like we're in ninth grade, doesn't it?"

You throw your head back, laughing with your entire being.

"That's what I thought. There's gotta be a better word. Partner? No, that makes us sound forty."

"I am almost forty."

"Oops."

Bucky rolls his eyes, but he can't wipe the blinding grin from his face. He takes out his phone and snaps a quick picture of you, admiring the way the breeze caresses your face as the setting sun beats down.

"Sneaky," you tease. "Let me see?"

He hands you the phone, letting you look through. You swipe right one too many times, and accidentally land on a picture of a blueprint laid out across a kitchen counter. His kitchen counter.

"Babe... what's this?"

You don't miss the way Bucky's cheeks heat up, blush creeping across his chest that's exposed by the V neckline of his blue button up. He stutters for a moment, before finding his footing.

"They're blueprints. Plans for a house."

"A house?"

"I want to build a house."

When you keep looking at him softly, he doubles down.

"I want to build a house for us."

Your breath hitches in your chest, the world going silent momentarily.

"You... you do?"

"My Dad worked in construction my entire childhood. I watched him build houses, apartment buildings, bungalows... everything. I've always wanted to do it, but never had reason to. Until now."

You squeeze his hand, urging him to continue.

"I've been planning it for upwards of ten years. But I'm taking it more seriously, now. Those blueprints are the final ones. It's all mapped out, down to the square inch. I've made some modifications for you, obviously."

He zooms in on the picture, pointing out areas on the plans.

"I've added a big island in the kitchen with a tonne of storage in it, for all of your supplies. I know you have that huge mixer, so I've made sure there's enough space for it to fit underneath with the doors closed."

You take a deep breath, lump in your throat forming unwillingly.

"Up here, there's a window at the top of the stairs. I've added a sketch of a bench which I'll upholster, so you can sit and read in the sunlight."

Tangling your legs with his under the table, you urge him to continue.

"I've also made sure there's a balcony off the master bedroom that overlooks the garden. I know how much you love sitting on yours in your apartment at home. There's probably like a hundred more little modifications for you, but those are just a few."

Tears are running down your cheeks freely, emotion escaping you like a flash flood.

"Bucky..."

"If it's too much too soon, please tell me. I won't be offended, baby. I know it's a lot."

"It's perfect."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

You jump up from your seat and around the table, throwing yourself into his lap to kiss him happily.

"I can't wait to build a house with you, Buck."

He grins at you, joy radiating off him in waves.

"Buck?"

"Hmm?"

"I love you."

He blinks back tears for a second, processing the words he's been waiting to hear for what feels like an eternity.

"I love you too, honey girl. My pretty baby."

He leans in to kiss you tenderly, the rest of the world melting away. It feels like it's just the two of you, floating on cloud nine.

Suddenly, you get it. You understand why people say this is the greatest thing that'll ever happen.

It is. They were right all along.

✵ ✵ ·　 ✵ 　　 * · ✵

After several pineapple flavoured cocktails and a taco or four, you and Bucky take a slow stroll home, hand in hand along the sidewalk.

"You wanna have a sleepover tonight?" you ask, digging your heels into the ground to stop yourself from skipping with glee.

"Can't think of anything I want more," he chuckles.

You walk a little while longer, content to bask in the comfortable silence.

"Guess what happened a few days ago."

"What, honey?"

"Stella asked me to be her business partner."

He stops where he is, turning to face you but never letting go of your hand.

"Wait, really?"

"Mhmmm."

"And how do you feel about that?"

"I was unsure, at first. But I'm going to do it. I've been thinking about this for a while, actually. We had to take a business class in culinary school, and I actually learned a lot. I've had a business plan for the future of the café drafted up for months. Numbers, locations, investors, everything. I'm really serious about this, you know."

He's gazing at you like you hung the moon, eyes bright and adoring.

You sit down on a bench, looking out over the coastal path. Bucky joins you, arm heavy over your shoulders.

"I can't stay here."

His head whips around.

"Baby..."

"I mean it, Buck. I like this city, I do, but I just can't settle. It feels like a placeholder until I can go home. And it's not fair to Stella, if it feels like I'm half in half out."

He goes to speak, but you're on a roll.

"I'm suggesting that we franchise the business. It's the logical next step anyway, it was just a matter of choosing the right location. I'm proposing somewhere a hell of a lot closer to home. To you. To my parents. And that means we'll have one branch on the east coast, and one on the west. We can start filling the middle, in the future."

"Are you... are you sure?"

"I've never been surer of anything, James Buchanan Barnes. I wanna start my life with you. Telling my parents, building a house, furthering my career. I'm ready, now."

Bucky grabs your face in his warm hands, kissing you with more passion than you ever thought possible. It's all the answer you need.

"I want you to read over my plan, when we get back to my place. But it's tight, Buck. I've been perfecting it for months. There's no way Stella can say no - I've made it so she won't want to. Besides, she just wants me to be happy. And this... this will make me happy. Happy beyond words."

Bucky stands up, wrapping his arms around your middle to bring you with him. He spins you around, laughing when you squeal in surprise.

"I'm so proud of you, honey baby. I love you so much."

"I love you," you grin. "More than I ever thought possible."

Bucky practically carries you home, both of you giddy on excitement and hope.

You wake up tangled in his arms, sunlight beaming down onto your skin through the open window. Happiness, you think. It's finally here.

Happiness. It's finally here.

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kingcrow01 · 4 months

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DC x Marvel Fic Recs

@jas-per11 @letthedeadghostrest

Hello! I saw your post, and I've been meaning to rec some DC x Marvel fics anyways, so I'll do that here. I don't know what you've read, so I'll start with

Peter Parker / DC Series:

The Dark Matter Multiverse Series by @mysterycyclone

Dark Matter is the blueprint for most Peter Parker / DC fics, and it's also fucking fantastic. If you're reading a crossover and don't understand why, without explanation, Peter is talking to ghosts? Why he by default ends up living in a firehouse? Read Dark Matter.

Spider and Bat Friends Series by @emmacortana

So far, 12 well written and hilarious works from my all-time favorite author, Miss emmacortana. This, coming from someone with over 1,500 bookmarks. She's that good.

Bitsy and The Bats Series Series by @wibbwoby

Haven't read this one in a while, so I don't have much to say, but Rated T for Traumatized is an absolute classic.

Pizzaverse Series by Irisen

A heavier read, wherein Peter tries to keep his job, make rent, and has a lot of unfortunate run-ins with Gotham's rogues.

Peter & The BatBoys (Doctor AU) Series by @thepoppypress

Peter is the Wayne family's doctor. He has a... chaotic time. I've only read Part 1, but I am still including this here because it's a series.

Peter Parker needs a hug (From the BatFamily) Series by @true-blue-fool

Shorter fics about Peter bonding with the Batfamily. Part 3 is especially cute.

Spider and Bats Series by @superklutzkent

Peter Parker whump, featuring the Batfam. All of the whump.

Let's take a break and look at some DC x Marvel fics that DON'T feature Peter:

Steve Rogers: Man out of Time and Place Series by RavenclawAngel

After Civil War, Steve gets exiled to DCs earth and builds a new team.

from the nucleus flight Series by @blackkatmagic

Khonshu whisks (Comic) Moon Knight away to DC. Very well written and passionate. If it's not your thing, don't let the Bruce Wayne/Marc Spector tag dissuade you from reading; since it's unfinished, the ship hasn't happened yet, and it's too good of a fic to miss out on.

The Devil's in Gotham (Remastered) by @prince-link13

Matt Murdock moves to Gotham and befriends Jason Todd, his neighbor. Bruce Wayne/Matt Murdock

Marvel/DC Crossovers Series by @bamboozled-and-alone

What it says on the tin. My favorite, part 2, is Matt Murdock taking care of Damian Wayne.

Echolocation Series by Firecat23

Matt Murdock and the bats; though, part 6 does have Team Red, meaning Peter.

Back to our regularly scheduled programming:

Peter Parker slash fics:

Cassandra Cain/Peter Parker

Along Came a Spider Series by @rags-n-bones

Quiet Respite by @faeriekit

I'm not too far in this one yet, but it's Faeriekit, so it's bound to be good.

Peter Parker/Tim Drake, affectionately called redspider

a shining spider web by Selador

Needling by LaughingFreak

How dimension travel can lead to love. Series by Psychic_Queen05

My current Favorite Ongoing Peter Parker / DC Crossovers:

The Ones Burnt by This_is_lovin

After the events of No Way Home, Dr. Strange's magic sends Peter to Gotham. He wakes up in another boy's body, and has to deal with the consequences. Part one just ended with a bang, you all should be there for part two, it's gonna be awesome.

Arachnomaly by @songue85

The (Comic) Amazing Spider-Man, being neighborly in Gotham. Plus some sick art from the author.

time flies by (bye) by WHYISEVERYNAMETAKEN

Two difficult years after No Way Home, Peter ends up in Gotham, but with a whole lot of introspection. One chapter left; you better be there.

All of the rest, that didn't fit in the prior categories:

Unforeseen Consequences by @mysterycyclone

Gotta Get to Rock Bottom! by @emmacortana

Read the initial notes first.

Set Naked on Your Kingdom by sassydandelion

Peter's Gotham Debut by BlankGeode, Leeavy

This Was Home by @emmacortana

The Peter Parker Theory by nicfics

and even though we are strange and exquisitely scarred by Wingfeather6913

What happens in New York by @violent138

A Long Way From Home (And No Way Back) by Vivia_wants_boba

Ignorance is Death by No_idea_what_Im_doing_lmaooo

One Dead Spider by Miellonek

If you do check out any of these fics, always leave a comment. Authors love those, it’s like catnip to them.

#dc #marvel #dc x marvel #fic rec #spiderman #spider man #peter parker #ao3

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tigertales9 · 1 month

Text

Hard Reset XII

Pairing: Joe Burrow x Reader

Warnings: 18+

Description: This flashback fic covers Joe & Reader's first Valentine's Day together back at LSU. There's also another flashback nestled within this flashback (Joeception) of when they first met at LSU.

Time/Place: Thursday, Feb. 14, 2019 (Valentine's Day) / Baton Rouge, Louisiana (with a flashback to June 2018)

A/N: This is the twelfth fic in the Hard Reset series.

This flashback got too long so I'm posting it in two parts. The smut is in the second part, but I'm rating this 18+ because it's smut adjacent. I'm hoping to have the next chapter up before this week-end. The smut has been finished for awhile, but I'm just trying to put the finishing touches on the ending. Nothing is coming easy right now, but I refuse to give up. 😋

I've had a few messages asking me if LSU Joe has long or short hair in this flashback. In my mind, he has short hair with the forehead curls (see gif below). I've tried to keep the descriptions ambiguous just in case y'all wanna imagine him with the longer hair.

Since I posted the first part of this as a sneak peek, I put a substantial (bold) cut so you can scroll down and start reading the new content w/o re-reading the sneak peek if you don't want to.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Thursday, Feb. 14, 2019 (Valentine's Day) / Baton Rouge, Louisiana

You exit the cool interior of the grocery store, squinting at the mid-afternoon sun as you quickly make your way to your car, popping the trunk and loading a few bags of groceries inside before hopping into the driver's seat; you slide your sunglasses on and head for the exit, looking both ways before easing out into the traffic on River Road, rolling your windows down and throwing a quick glance at the Mississippi River as it runs parallel to the street, its earthy, fertile scent bringing a smile to your face.

"70 degrees in mid-February!" you mimic in Joe's voice, laughing at the accuracy of your impersonation. "He's def gonna bitch about it," you continue, flicking your turn signal on a few minutes later before making the turn that will take you away from the river and toward your apartment complex.

~ ~ ~

An hour later, you're whipping up some homemade frosting when your bestie/roommate Gina walks in, sniffing the air dramatically.

"Smells like heaven," she groans, eyeing the fluffy pink concoction as you finish beating it with a mixer. "What is it?"

"Raspberry buttercream frosting," you answer, grabbing two spoons and scooping some frosting on each before handing her one. "How's it taste?" you ask, laughing when she makes loud, appreciative noises.

"Delish! I can't believe you made homemade frosting," she marvels. "What ya gonna put it on?"

"Chocolate cupcakes." You step back and wave a hand at the plump cupcakes sitting pretty on a cooling rack beside the oven. "I made these from a triple chocolate cake mix, so they're just semi-homemade."

"Oh, just semi-homemade? I better call the food police," she teases, walking over and leaning down to sniff the cupcakes before throwing you a look. "I hope Joe realizes how lucky he is to have a woman who loves to cook."

"He's very appreciative," you mutter, blushing when she cackles at the look on your face.

"Seven months in and you're still blushing over this man? He's def doing something right."

"Not gonna argue with that," you giggle, peeling the wrapper off one of the still-warm cupcakes before cutting it in half; you smear a generous amount of frosting on both halves before handing one to Gina. "Happy V Day," you state, bumping your cupcake half against hers before taking a big bite. "Happy V Day," she parrots, making num-num noises as she polishes off the confection.

"What are you and Trey doing tonight?" you ask, licking a dollop of frosting off your finger as she rolls her eyes.

"He's bringing take-out over because he waited too long to make a reservation, so literally everywhere decent is booked up. I told him if he brings wings or pizza, he can forget about getting any pussy."

You laugh along with her for a bit before quieting down. "So what did y'all decide on since wings and pizza is clearly a no go?"

"Nothing," she shrugs. "I'm tired of having to ask for things I want. After almost a year and a half together, he should know without me telling him. He's just gotten lazy and expects me to do all the work and make all the decisions. He mostly just sits and scrolls his phone when we're together unless I tell him what to do."

"I hear you. -- So what do you actually want for dinner tonight?"

She thinks for several seconds before answering. "I know it's basic as hell, but I'd love some lasagna and breadsticks from Olive Garden."

"Might be basic but still delicious." You give her a wink as you cover the bowl of frosting with plastic wrap and place it in the fridge. "I made enough cupcakes to share with you and Trey," you continue. "Once they cool completely, I'll frost them for you."

"Thanks, but I might hoard 'em for myself if he shows up with McDonald's or some shit."

You walk out of the kitchen and head toward your bedroom, beckoning Gina to follow. "He's not gonna show up with McDonald's," you scoff, pulling the top drawer of your dresser open to grab two pair of panties, one pink and one red, both with tags still attached.

"What are these?" she asks, eyebrows rising when you hand her the red pair.

"I ordered them a couple of weeks ago. I was starting to think they wouldn't arrive in time, but they got here yesterday. Happy V Day!"

"Thanks, girl!" She holds the flimsy mesh thong up to her face, grinning at you through the gossamer fabric. "These are totally see-through," she giggles, "and that center seam on the crotch is gonna give major camel toe."

"Exactly," you purr, wiggling your blush-pink thong that's identical to hers except for the color. "Next best thing to crotchless without being crotchless."

"Oh shit, that reminds me of the crotchless panties I gave you as a gift!" she chirps. "You wore them for Halloween, right?"

"Yep, Joe totally wrecked them."

"That ain't the only thing he wrecked," she chortles. "You were def walking funny the next day."

You join in the laughter for a sec before speaking. "I mean, yeah, he beat it up for real, but the limp I had was mostly because I tweaked my groin from doing the splits on his face without stretching first. Didn't even realize it until the next day."

"No way!" she hollers, falling onto your bed and kicking her feet in the air while cackling. "Hold up," she gasps after several seconds, pointing at your yoga mat that's rolled up and leaning against the wall in the corner of your room. "Wasn't it just after Halloween when you got majorly into yoga?"

"Maybe," you shrug, grinning ear-to-ear as she mentally connects the dots.

"I thought you were just trying something new since you already do cardio and strength training, but you've actually been getting more limber for sex?"

"Yep, don't wanna pull a muscle."

"You lucky bitch! I can't even get Trey to pull my hair during sex much less pull a damn muscle!"

The look on her face causes you to throw yourself on the bed beside her, both of you roaring with laughter until your phone rings.

"Oh shit, it's Joe," you wheeze as you check the display, gasping for breath to try and get yourself under control before answering. "Hey babe," you manage before immediately dissolving into another fit of giggles.

"Hey," he answers, his voice slightly bemused. "You okay?"

"Y … yeah," you pant, biting your lip hard enough to hurt before cutting a side-eye at Gina, her ridic, bug-eyed expression causing you to snort loudly before howling with laughter.

"Are you laughing or crying?" Joe asks.

"Laugh … ing," you wheeze, taking in copious gulps of air as Gina grabs a pillow and rolls off the bed and onto the floor, using the pillow to muffle her laughter.

"What the hell, babe?" he asks, sounding slightly worried. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"I'm fine." You take a few deep breaths before continuing. "Gina said something funny right before you called."

"Are y'all drunk?"

"No, daddy, we haven't been underage drinking."

"I don't give a shit about underage drinking and you know it. I mean, you'll be 21 in less than three months."

"You sound kinda pissed," you pout, smiling at his heavy sigh.

"I'm not pissed, and I don't care if you've been drinking. Matter of fact, I've got two bottles of your fav blush wine chilling in my fridge for tonight, I just don't want you drinking and driving. Let me know if I need to come get you."

"I haven't been drinking," you reiterate. "I'm putting you on speaker," you continue. "Gina? Have we been drinking?"

"We have not been drinking!" she states loudly from the floor.

"Told ya, daddy," you gloat in your brattiest voice.

"If you call me daddy one more time, we're gonna have a problem."

"You gonna punish me?" you purr. "Maybe ground me for a week?"

"Maybe bend you over, pull your panties down and spank your sweet ass before burying my tongue in your …"

"You're on speaker!" you yelp, laughing as Gina hops up and sprints for the door, throwing you a naughty smirk on the way out.

"Sorry. Got a little carried away," Joe mutters.

"It's fine. Gina ran like hell, but you didn't say anything super raunchy."

"Only because you interrupted me."

"I mean … we were talking about sex when you called."

"Ummm, do I even wanna know the deets since you were laughing so hard you could barely breathe?"

"Just that I got into yoga so I could be super limber for sex with you. You frequently get me in positions where my knees are pushed up by my ears or I'm basically doing the splits."

"What's funny about that?"

"Nothing. I'll tell you more later."

"You like it when I manhandle you a little, right?"

You smile at his uncertain tone. "I love it. You know I love it. The funny part was her reaction. Apparently, Trey doesn't get down like that so she was expressing her, ummm, frustration. The look on her face was what set me off."

"Does Trey know he's a boring lay?"

"Probably not," you giggle, "and don't you dare tell him."

"I hardly ever talk to him. He's been aggravated at me ever since Gina told him I pay for your monthly bikini wax, and now he feels like he has to do the same for her. I told him it's only fair since getting your pubes ripped out is no fun, and it's at least partially being done for his pleasure."

"He can be a little self-centered."

"A little?" Joe snorts.

"Okay, a lot. Gina loves him, though, so hopefully he grows out of it eventually."

"Wouldn't put money on it, but anyway … how's your day going?"

"Good. My classes were boring, as usual, but I have zero homework so that's good. Also, I picked up all the groceries I need to cook dinner for us tonight."

"Did you have any trouble using my credit card?"

You chew on your lip for a second before answering. "I didn't use it."

"Why not?"

"Because I wanted to treat you for once; you always pay for stuff."

"Listen … you go to the store, bring stuff to my place and cook delicious food for us. The least I can do is pay for the groceries."

"Just let me treat you this one time. It's part of my Valentine's Day gift to you."

"We'll see," he mumbles. "Do you need any help getting everything to my place?"

"Nah, I think I can manage the grueling five minute drive by myself," you snark.

"You gonna be a little shit all night, or is this just an appetizer?"

"Just an appetizer," you giggle. "I intend to be way worse later."

"Don't threaten me with a good time."

"It's a promise not a threat," you purr.

"Woman, I need to go work-out, and I don't wanna hit the gym with a hard-on. Can we save the sexy banter for later?"

"Yes, sir," you drawl, putting as much implied sex in the two syllables as possible.

"Keep that same energy for later tonight," he orders, his voice dropping an octave like it always does when he's aroused.

"Yes, sirrrr," you repeat, giggling at his exasperated groan.

"One more 'daddy' or 'sir' out of your pretty mouth, and I'm gonna skip the gym and drive straight to your place."

"No, you won't," you tease. "You're religious about getting your work-outs in."

"Listen, I'm gonna hit the gym, come home, eat dinner with you, then fuck you 'til you can't think straight. Then I'm gonna reload and fuck you again."

"Sounds good," you whisper, a sizzle of anticipation racing down your spine.

"What time are you coming over?" he asks, his voice still thick with arousal.

"Probably about 5:00."

"I'll be back from the gym by 5:30."

"Okay."

"And, babe?"

"Yeah?"

"I intend to go hard so make sure to take your vitamins and stretch."

"Yes, sir," you whimper, ending the call before he can say anything else. "He's def gonna make me pay for that later," you giggle to yourself, hopping off the bed to go find Gina.

* * * end of sneak peek * * *

You find Gina sitting on the sofa when you walk into the living area. "Hey," you grin, plopping down beside her. "Hope we didn't gross you out."

"Not a bit," she laughs, handing you a small gift bag. "It's your fav bath bomb and some chocolate-covered almonds," she continues as you peek into the bag.

"Thank you! That's so sweet." You give her a hug before setting the bag on the coffee table.

"You're welcome. So, you and Joe are staying in tonight, right?"

"Yeah, we don't like going out on holiday nights because of the big crowds."

"Y'all are always on the same wavelength," she smiles. "What are you cooking for him? Besides the cupcakes?"

"His fav spicy Cajun pasta plus garlic bread and salad."

"Is that the pasta that has blackened chicken, shrimp and andouille sausage in it?"

"Yep."

"Yum! That's what I want you to make for my 21st birthday dinner. I've been craving it for a while."

"I mean, I can make it for you sooner than that if you're jonesing. We don't have to wait a whole month until your birthday."

She gives you a smile as she shakes her head. "It'll be worth the wait. Besides, I'm prob gonna be eating a fucking Big Mac and fries for dinner tonight, so I need to let my digestive system recover before I gobble down that delish pasta."

"You're not eating a fucking Big Mac and fries," you laugh, grabbing your phone and hitting a number before putting it on speaker.

"Hey Y/n," Trey drawls. "What's up?"

"Hey." You smile at Gina's surprised expression before continuing. "Listen, lasagna and breadsticks from Olive Garden."

"Ummm, what?"

"You're bringing dinner to Gina for Valentine's, right?"

"Yeah."

"Lasagna and breadsticks from Olive Garden."

"For real?"

"Yep."

"Okay, cool. -- Anything else?"

"Just … remember that Valentine's Day is about romance." You grin at Gina as she bugs her eyes out at you. "Turn your damn phone off and seduce your woman."

"Did she tell you to say that?"

"No, but I've heard her grumble at you a few times lately about constantly being on your phone when y'all are together."

"That's true," he mumbles. "I def need to be better about that."

"Tonight is the perfect time to start."

"Okaaay, so lasagna, breadsticks, seduction and stay off the phone?"

"Yep."

"Got it."

"Cool. Have a nice night." You end the call and level a no-nonsense look at Gina. "Okay, girl, I did my part. You gotta take the reins once he gets here."

"What do you mean?"

"You got a fresh coochie wax and some naughty panties. Put him on his back and sit on his face."

"For real?"

"Yes! I think he's too shy to initiate that kind of action, but I bet he'll be totally into it if you take control."

"I … don't know."

"He goes down on you, right?"

"Yeah, but not like that."

"Not yet," you purr, wiggling your eyebrows.

She gives you a look before taking a deep breath. "I'm gonna try it."

"Yes!" you chirp. "Just make sure you stretch first."

"I will," she giggles, her eyes going wide when the doorbell rings.

"I'll get it," you state, quickly heading to the front door and checking the peephole before opening it. "Wow!" you gush, smiling at the sight of a vase full of blush-pink roses; a head pops out from behind the beautiful arrangement. "Delivery for Y/n," the delivery driver says, giving you a cheerful smile as you reach for the vase.

"That's me."

"I got one more delivery for this address," she says. "Be right back."

You're grinning ear-to-ear when you walk back into the living room.

"Those are gorgeous!" Gina gushes.

"For real! Listen, you need to go to the door; the delivery driver is bringing another arrangement." She gives you a 'say what?' look before heading to the front door.

You set the glass vase on the kitchen island and open the card, reading it out loud. "Happy first Valentine's Day! Can't wait to celebrate many more together. Love, Joe."

You're still smiling when Gina walks in with a vase full of red roses. "Gurrrrl," she chuckles. "I know you told Trey to send these to me."

"I didn't! Swear to God!"

"Really? 'Cause it's kinda cray that Joe and Trey sent the same flowers -- just a diff color -- from the same florist."

You nod your head for a bit before a thought hits you. "I wonder if Joe said something to Trey? If he did, he didn't tell me."

"Call him and ask him."

"Okay," you grin, heading for your bedroom. "Be right back." You close your bedroom door and hit Joe's number, hoping he isn't already working out.

"Hey," he answers almost immediately.

"Hey," you echo. "Thanks for the roses. I love them."

"You're welcome."

"Can you talk for a sec?"

"Yeah. I just got to the gym, but I haven't started working out yet."

"Did you tell Trey to send Gina flowers?"

"Uhhh, no. He called me a few days ago and asked if I was sending you flowers. I said yes and told him what I was sending and the name of the florist. Why?"

"She got the same arrangement you sent me but with red roses instead of pink."

"Well, good for Trey. Maybe there's hope for him after all."

"Maybe so," you grin, dropping your voice a bit. "I really love the roses. Can't wait to thank you for them later. They're gorgeous."

"You're gorgeous," he murmurs.

"You better go get your work-out done so you can hurry up and get home."

"Yes, ma'am."

"Don't expend all of your energy, okay? Save some for me."

"Don't worry about that. I got plenty," he boasts, his cocky tone bringing a smile to your face.

You end the call and walk back into the living area, giving Gina a huge grin as she waits for the deets. "Joe didn't tell Trey to send the roses."

"Really?"

"Really." You explain the situation while she shakes her head.

"Damn, I guess he was afraid Joe would show him up," she giggles.

"A little healthy competition can be a good thing," you state, laughing along with her for several seconds before y'all quiet down. "I should've got Joe a couple more things for V Day," you mumble.

"Whaaaat?" she chirps. "You're cooking him dinner and dessert, plus you're supplying the naughty panties and the contents of said panties."

"That's true," you chuckle, "plus I got him a jigsaw puzzle to remind him of the first … well ... actually the second time he asked me out."

"You mean the second time you shot him down?"

"Yeah," you grin, letting your mind rewind back to June 2018.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Early June 2018 - Baton Rouge, Louisiana (in a small bookstore just off LSU campus)

You take a sip of your iced coffee and scowl at your computer screen, hitting your delete key several times while barely registering the sound of the bell that alerts you to a customer entering the bookstore. "Let me know if you need any help," you automatically say, never taking your eyes off of your screen.

Several minutes later, you catch some movement in your peripheral vision and quickly turn your head, making eye contact with a tall, blonde man for a few seconds before he disappears behind the bookshelves. Haven't seen him here before, you think to yourself, taking another sip of your drink as you continue to look in his direction.

He eventually reappears, and you smile at him. "Need help finding something?" you ask, swallowing hard as he walks toward you, his long-legged stride making you feel a little funny.

"Just looking," he says, the sound of his voice hitting you like a roundhouse kick to the face.

"Oh … okay," you mutter, your pulse picking up as he walks directly up to the large L-shaped desk that serves as a check-out counter and sticks a hand out toward you, his impressive height and broad shoulders completely blocking out the late-afternoon sun streaming in the windows behind him.

"I'm Joe," he announces, giving you a devastating smile when you stand up from your desk chair and grasp his hand.

You try not to react to the electric shock you feel when you nestle your hand in his much bigger one. "I'm Y/n," you mumble.

"Nice to meet you, Y/n. I'm new here. Just recently transferred over from OSU."

"Oklahoma State?" you ask, grinning when he rolls his pretty blue eyes.

"Ohio State," he answers.

"You're a midwestern boy, huh?"

He raises one eyebrow before answering. "A midwestern man."

"My bad," you giggle, biting your lip as a blush rises in your face; his gaze drops down to your mouth and you feel something stir deep inside you, a rush of heat and a steady throb between your legs that makes you react by pressing your thighs together.

"No problem," he states, his already deep voice dropping a full octave lower; he quickly flicks his gaze down to your denim-clad thighs, lingering there briefly before recapturing your gaze.

Got damn, you think to yourself, trying to act normal as your body continues to react to him. I prob need to buy some new batteries for my vibrator, you muse, wiping your sweaty palms on your jeans when his sinful lips curl up in a wicked grin, like he's reading your mind and really liking what he sees.

The entrance bell ringing breaks the porny spell, and you turn your head toward the door, smiling at one of your regular customers. "Hi, Mrs. Peavy. The book you ordered came in today's mail."

"That's great news!" she chirps. "I'm just gonna browse for a bit before I check out."

She disappears back behind the tall bookshelves, and you return your attention to Joe, catching his gaze sliding down your body again before he clears his throat and checks his watch. "I gotta get to the gym," he mutters, raking a hand through his hair while backing away from you. "It was really nice meeting you."

"You too," you grin, shamelessly ogling his ass in his slinky shorts as he heads out the door.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

One week later

You're sipping another iced coffee and staring into space when the entrance bell jingles, pulling your attention to the tall, blonde man striding toward you. "Hey," you grin, standing up as he walks directly up to your desk.

"Hey," he echoes, waggling his large styrofoam cup. "Am I allowed to have this in here?"

"Is it a drive-thru daiquiri? And if it is, are you at least 21?"

"I'm 21, but it's a smoothie not a daiquiri," he chuckles. "I just didn't know if y'all allow drinks in the store."

"It's fine," you state, pointing at your iced coffee. "Drinks are def allowed."

"What is that?" he asks.

"It's an iced mocha latte. I have one every workday to give me a little caffeine boost."

"What days do you work?"

"Monday, Tuesday, and Wednesday 3:00 - 7:00."

"That explains why you weren't here when I popped in last Friday afternoon."

"Yep, that explains it," you say inanely, your pulse picking up at the thought that he came in hoping to see you. He takes a sip of his smoothie, and your gaze is drawn to his throat, his prominent Adam's apple bobbing as he swallows the frosty beverage.

He licks his lips before giving you a lethal grin. "Did you know that you get a greater energy boost from eating an apple instead of drinking a caffeinated beverage?"

"No way," you grin, taking a big slurp of your iced coffee while he gives a vigorous nod, causing a dirty-blonde curl to bounce against his forehead.

"Seriously," he states. "There are studies that show eating an apple gives you a longer energy boost than a cup of coffee. Honeycrisp apples are my fav," he continues. "Have you ever tried one?"

"Maybe baked in a pie or dunked in caramel," you tease, "but be for real. Apples don't have caffeine."

"True," he nods. "It's the natural sugars and the fiber in the skin that give you the sustained energy boost."

"Are you a registered dietician?" you ask with a hint of playful snark.

"No, but I'm an athlete, so I've consulted with lots of dieticians and sports nutritionists."

"I see," you grin, half-convinced he's bullshitting even though he's built like an athlete. "Think I'll stick with my trusty caffeine."

"Cool," he quips, shifting his weight from one foot to the other while raking a hand through his hair. "Sooo, you go to LSU?" he asks.

"Yeah, I'm in my junior year."

"Cool," he repeats. "You taking any summer classes?"

"Just one; it's an online course in business ethics. Super easy."

"What's your major?"

"I'm doing a double major in graphic design and digital advertising."

"That sounds interesting and also a little intense."

"It's really not bad," you admit. "I rarely have homework since I get most everything done in class plus the 12 hours a week I spend here at the bookstore."

"How long have you worked here?"

"Since about midway through freshman year. My parents were against it at first, but they came around once they realized how ideal it is. It's nice to make a little extra money instead of expecting them to pay for everything. Between my partial scholarship and the college fund they started when I was born, I'm gonna graduate with zero student loan debt, which is basically like winning the lottery these days."

"Damn right," he enthuses. "I did my undergrad in finance, and starting a college fund as soon as possible is one of the best things a parent can do for their child."

"Undergrad?" you ask. "Do you already have a degree?"

"Yeah, I got a bachelor's from OSU in consumer and family financial services. I'm a graduate transfer doing a master's in liberal arts."

You raise your eyebrows. "That's quite a move from Ohio to Louisiana. Do you have family here?"

"No … well, not yet. Eventually my teammates will be as close as family."

"Teammates?"

"Yeah, football teammates."

You feel your heart sink at the implication. "You play football?"

"Yeah."

"For the university?"

"Uhhh, yeah. I was a back-up quarterback for three years at OSU, so I transferred here to get a chance to start."

"A fucking quarterback," you mumble under your breath.

"What was that? I didn't hear you."

"Nothing." You give him a bland smile before taking another hearty gulp of your 'caffeinated beverage'.

He watches you closely for a few seconds before speaking. "I take it you don't like football."

"What makes you say that?" you ask, a bit disconcerted that he read you so easily.

"Your whole demeanor changed when I mentioned it."

"I like it fine," you scoff. "I mean, except for the fact that it's violent as fuck, and I'm always worried I might witness a horrific injury. Other than that, I think it's just peachy."

He hits you with that panty-dropping grin, and you're more than a little annoyed when your body reacts. Simmer down, you think to yourself. Nothing dumber than getting sprung over a fuck boy quarterback.

"How many games have you been to here at LSU?" he asks.

"Several," you lie.

"Several, huh? Like at least ten?"

"Like three," you mumble. "The last game I went to kind of ruined it for me."

"What happened? Horrific injury?"

"No. There was a drunk dude sitting beside me who kept sloshing beer on my boots, literally burped in my face, and then had the audacity to get mad when I refused to give him my number."

"Yikes. Not cool."

"Indeed," you grumble.

"Well, if you come watch me play this fall, maybe I can give you a few tips to avoid the drunk assholes."

"As if," you snort, rolling your eyes when he hits you with a pouty expression. That shit's not working on me, pretty boy, you think to yourself, squaring your shoulders as he shifts his weight again and hits you with another smile.

"Well, anyway … would you like to maybe grab lunch or something this week-end?" he asks.

"Ummm, I'm actually hosting a 21st birthday slumber party for a friend this week-end."

"All week-end? Friday through Sunday?"

"Kind of," you mutter, hoping he doesn't ask you to elaborate.

"Cool," he says, "hope y'all have fun."

"Thanks," you mumble, your gaze darting to the door as the bell jingles, signaling a new customer.

"I better get going," he says, giving you a lingering look before striding toward the door.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two weeks later

You hear the entrance bell jingle and quickly cut a glance at the door, eyes going wide when Joe walks in. Holy shit, take a hint, you think to yourself, giving him a bland look as he walks up to your desk.

"Hey," he smiles.

"Hey," you echo, trying hard not to return his smile.

"How was your slumber party?"

"Good."

The silence stretches out between you for a bit before he speaks up.

"Did I do something to upset you?"

"Nope."

"Okaaay," he mutters, running a hand through his hair while clearing his throat. "Look, I know you don't love football, but I can talk about a lot more than that. I was hoping we could maybe get to know each other better? Maybe just go out for ice cream or lunch sometime?"

"When?" you deadpan.

"Ummm, maybe Friday? I have some team activities Saturday and Sunday."

You give him a tight smile before answering. "Friday's not good for me. I have a 3000 piece jigsaw puzzle that I'm jonesing to finish, and I have it on my schedule for this Friday."

"A jigsaw puzzle?" he asks, his tone bordering on incredulous.

"Yep," you chirp, your expression daring him to question you further.

The silence stretches out for an uncomfortable amount of time before he finally breaks it.

"I get it," he mutters, slowly backing away. "Sorry for bothering you." He spins around and heads for the exit, stopping just before opening the door to look back at you; his gaze lingers on you for several seconds before he pulls the door open and walks out.

You release the breath you didn't realize you were holding and slump back in your desk chair, wondering why you feel so empty when you should really feel amazing for curving an obvious fuck boy.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

Two weeks later

You finish the last bite of your shrimp po' boy and dab your mouth with your napkin, quickly turning your head toward the street behind you as a car backfire causes everyone to flinch.

"Got damn!" Gina snaps, grabbing her glass of sweet tea and taking several gulps. "Damn near choked," she wheezes, both of you giggling.

Y'all are sitting at one of many picnic tables at an outdoor food court that's flanked by several food trucks; you take a sip of your sweet tea and turn your head again, scanning the lunchtime crowd until your gaze comes to rest on a familiar figure sitting at a table with a few other guys.

"Oh shit!" you gasp.

"What is it?" Gina asks, her head on a swivel to see what upset you.

"Don't look!" you hiss. "It's Joe."

"Who?"

"That guy who came into the bookstore a few times and asked me out."

"The quarterback?"

"Yes," you whisper, turning your head slowly to find him staring directly at you. "Oh shit, fuck, dammit to hell," you breathe, plastering on a fake smile and waving when he waves at you.

"He's headed this way," Gina warns.

"Should I run?"

"Hell no," she laughs. "Just smile and act unaffected."

"Fuck my life," you mutter, smiling as he walks up to your table. "Hey," you greet, annoyed at the breathless tone of your voice.

"Hey," he echoes.

"Ummm, Joe this is Gina," you say, gesturing toward her, "my roommate and bestie. Gina this is Joe," you continue, gesturing toward him.

"Nice to meet you," Gina says.

"You too," Joe grins, looking back and forth between you before Gina speaks up.

"I'm gonna throw out our trash and head to the car," she announces. "Y'all take your time talking."

"Thanks," you grimace, gesturing at the seat opposite you once Gina vacates it. "Have a seat."

"Thanks," Joe says, dropping his big frame down and resting his ridiculously sexy hands and forearms on the table.

Asshole, you think to yourself, hating the fact that you're incredibly attracted to him. "Sooo, how's your football stuff going?" you ask.

"Good. How's your jigsaw puzzle stuff going?" he asks, not even trying to hide his smirk.

"Good," you state, your cunty expression daring him to call you out.

He stares at you for several seconds before speaking. "Look … I just wanna tell you that the jigsaw puzzle thing is the worst brush off I've ever heard."

"What makes you think it was a brush off?" you ask.

"Because it's ridic. You could've finished the puzzle any other time."

"I could have," you agree. "But I was really looking forward to doing it that specific night."

He tilts his head and gives you a look. "I don't think the puzzle actually exists."

"Oh really?" you mumble, grabbing your phone and scrolling through your pics until you find what you're looking for. "This is it," you say, studying the pic while continuing. "It's a shot from the Hubble telescope." You flip your phone around so he can see it. "It's the …"

"Crab nebula," he finishes your sentence, taking your phone and setting it on the table in front of him. "Damn," he whispers, leaning down for a better look. "This is a beautiful shot." He quickly flicks his gaze up at you before looking back down at your phone. "Most colorized shots of the Crab nebula are depicted in cool colors, but this heat signature is very hot," he murmurs.

Very fucking hot, you think to yourself, studying his face as he continues to look at the pic, his long eyelashes fanned out against his slightly-sunburned cheeks.

He eventually slides your phone across the table toward you and gives you a sheepish grin. "I owe you an apology for not believing you. I'm sorry."

You feel a hot blush rise in your cheeks, more from shame than attraction, and you heave a sigh before responding. "Listen … I did finish the puzzle Friday, but you were right when you said I could've done it another time, so it basically was a brush off."

"Thanks for being honest," he states. "Why don't you simplify this by just saying you aren't interested in me."

"Because that would be a lie," you blurt, surprising yourself just as much as him with your admission.

"Okay, now I'm confused," he grins. "If you're interested then why the brush off?"

You have an answer ready because that's pretty much all you've been thinking about lately. "I just feel like we wouldn't be very compatible."

"What are you basing that on?"

You shrug. "I'm an introverted bookworm who doesn't really like to party. I enjoy cooking for my friends and hanging out at home."

"That perfectly describes me minus the cooking part," he grins, laughing softly when you narrow your eyes at him.

"Boy please," you scoff. "Most college athletes are huge partiers and total manwhores."

"What are you basing that on?" he repeats.

"I'm basing it on my experience, and also things I've seen and heard from friends."

"So you've dated some college athletes?"

"Kind of," you mumble. "He was actually my high school boyfriend, a year older than me. We dated for just over a year before he graduated and went to college. He wasn't talented enough to get a Division 1 football scholarship, but he did get a D2. The school was about a four hour drive from our hometown. He promised me we'd make the distance work, then he proceeded to fuck everything in a skirt the second he hit campus. Luckily I had several other friends at the same school who dropped a dime on his fuck boy ways."

"Was he a quarterback?"

"No, but the quarterback on his college team was even worse. One of those gross dudes who brags about getting more ass than a barstool."

"I see," he mutters, taking a deep breath before continuing. "So now you think all football players are like that? Like 100% of us?"

You shrug. "Maybe not 100% but why chance it? I know that not all snakes are poisonous, but I still avoid 'em. You're a man, though, so you wouldn't understand."

"I understand. And yes, there are plenty of fuck boy athletes, but I'm not one of them."

You bite your bottom lip to quell a skeptical smirk, noting that his gaze drops down to your mouth for several seconds before he continues speaking.

"Can I tell you a little bit about myself?" he asks, finally dragging his gaze back up to your eyes.

"Sure."

"I'm an introverted bookworm who doesn't really like to party," he states, echoing your earlier words. "I spend most of my time at football practice, working out, watching game film, and studying the playbook. Once my classes start, I'll be studying for those, as well. You can usually find me at my apartment or the football facility, which is a five minute drive from my apartment. Occasionally I do something wild like eat at a restaurant, browse a bookstore, or play blackjack at a casino."

You raise an eyebrow, and he chuckles before responding.

"I'm not a gambling addict or anything like that. I don't play very often, but when I do, I win more than I lose." You can't help but smile at his cocky tone as he continues. "I also enjoy playing chess, collecting graphic t-shirts, and reading about plus watching pretty much anything related to how the universe works, hence me nerding out over your Crab nebula puzzle. Physics is my fav subject." He gives you a big grin. "Am I boring you yet?"

"Not yet," you mutter.

"I also enjoy building LEGO sets which are basically just 3D versions of jigsaw puzzles." You stare at each other for several seconds before he speaks up again. "If you get to know me, you'll realize I'm not a stereotypical jock."

Holy shit, he's smooth, you think to yourself, wondering if his earnest expression is real or fake. Prob fake as fuck, you seethe; time to set him straight. "Listen, I'm not gonna jump in bed with you, okay?" you snap. "There are plenty of other women on this campus who'd be DTF if you flash that smile at 'em. Why waste time with me?"

"Because I'm not looking for a quick fuck. I'm looking for someone I can vibe with."

"Running game on me is not gonna work, sweetie," you snort. "You're good at it, don't get me wrong, but I see right through that shit."

"Look, I know you've had some bad experiences, but I swear I'm not running game. Don't punish me for some other guys' sins."

You stare at him without speaking, trying not to show any emotion as he continues.

"Plus, you're the one who keeps mentioning sex," he states matter-of-factly. "I'd just like to get to know you."

"You're right," you mumble, caught somewhere between admiration and aggravation that he's managed to get the upper hand in the conversation; time to put him on the back foot. "That was very presumptuous of me. You're clearly not attracted to me, so I apologize for jumping to that conclusion."

"Okay, that's not true and you know it," he mutters.

"Meaning?"

He runs a hand through his hair before answering. "Meaning … I'm very attracted to you, but I'm not just looking for sex. Does that make sense?"

"No."

His laugh caresses you like a physical touch, and you squirm in your seat, exasperated at the effect he has on you.

"You're really not making this easy," he grins.

"I don't owe you easy," you scoff, biting the inside of your cheek to keep from returning his grin.

"You're absolutely right," he states as he stands up, throwing a quick glance at the table where his friends are sitting before returning his gaze to you. "You don't owe me anything," he continues, smiling as he plucks his sunglasses from the neckline of his t-shirt and slides them on; he waits several seconds -- like he's waiting for you to say something -- before spinning around and heading back to his bros.

He takes three steps before you call his name, your pulse hammering when he turns around and removes his sunglasses before locking eyes with you; you stand up and take a small step in his direction, every pleasure point in your body throbbing in unison when he quickly closes the distance with two long strides, looking down into your upturned face. A thrill shoots through you at how much taller he is than you. Focus! you think to yourself, swallowing hard and licking your lips before speaking.

"Ummm, do you have any plans for this Friday?"

"Not yet," he grins. "What do you have in mind?"

"I have no idea," you admit. "Maybe just grab ice cream or lunch or something?"

"Why don't we exchange numbers then we can decide later?"

"Okay," you mutter, feeling a little lightheaded as y'all exchange numbers.

He eventually slides his phone back in the pocket of his shorts and gives you a cheeky grin. "Just so you know, I don't have sex on the first date," he says, gracing you with another deep laugh that sizzles your nerve endings as your mouth drops open in shock. "Just kidding," he chuckles.

"You better be kidding," you warn in a playful voice. "This is just a friendly hang-out, right? Not a date."

"Of course, very presumptuous of me to call it a date." He gives you a wink before sliding his sunglasses back on.

His wink hits you in all the right places, and you quickly slide your sunglasses on to mask your reaction. "Totally presumptuous," you grumble, matching his grin before spinning around and heading toward the parking lot; you take about a dozen steps before throwing a look over your shoulder, a jolt of heat rushing through you when you see him still watching you. "Fuck," you mutter under your breath, picking up your pace as you head toward your car. "What have I got myself into?"

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

"Y/n?"

Gina's voice snaps you out of your flashback. "Yeah?"

"Girl, you must've been having a spicy daydream because you were damn near drooling!" she chortles.

"Just thinking about when Joe and I first met," you grin, heading to the fridge to pull the frosting out. "Let me get these cupcakes frosted then I'll help you set up a little tablescape for your V Day dinner."

"Martha Stewart ain't got nothing on you," she giggles.

"Damn right," you laugh, grabbing your piping bag and dropping a star tip in before letting your mind wander, a sizzle of anticipation running through you as you think about the night to come.

#joe burrow #joe burrow fan fic #joe burrow fanfic #joe burrow x reader #joe burrow imagine

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lincolndjarin · 9 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter twenty one : te mirci't

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

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

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 9.0k

summary : reader does a lot of thinking, and a lot of expressing of said thoughts

warnings, etc. : language, angst, canon typical violence, smut smut smut smut, p in v smut, food play sort of kind of, din djarin nearly creams his pants over the concept of domesticity, sort of a dom/sub thing, switch!reader & switch!mando, din has a breeding kink and it's addressed, reader has like zero chill this chapter, dirty talk, men whimpering (hooray!), light bondage, use of handcuffs, unprotected sex

a/n : ik y'all are hype about breeding kink din but i'm gonna real quick say that i will not throw in like a surprise pregnancy in this fic, cause it hasn't been tagged with that thus far and sometimes it irks me when i'm knee deep in a fic and suddenly the reader is pregnant without warning and it wasn’t tagged,, so yeah. it would be different if i advertised this as a pregnancy fic from the get go but i didn't so i'm not gonna spring that on people. (reader could still potentially end up pregnant at the END of the fic (possibly maybe who knows) but there will not be any surprise pregnancy, sorry!) that's it lmao, just wanted to throw that out there.

“It means I love you.”

You aren’t entirely sure how long you stare at him, looking rather silly with your jaw practically on the floor.

How many times has he said it without you even knowing? How long has he loved you? Maker, your mind is racing as you try to recall when the first time he said it would have been.

You’ve already said it to him.

Albeit you didn’t realize what you were saying but you’d said those words to him. And hearing you say them had worked him up so much that he’d fucked you like it was his last night alive.

He doesn’t seem to have much to say now that he’s dropped that bomb on you. You just stare at each other in this blistering silence for an eternity. Until the smell of burning has you shooting out of bed, scrambling towards the oven as you grab the lone oven mit off the counter, removing the smoking baking trays quickly, propping open the single window above the sink and tossing the ruined cakes under the faucet.

“Kriff.” You lean up against the counter, staring at where he’s currently getting up from the bed to join you. Are you a terrible person if you just ignore it? Because currently the last thing you want to do is think about it. “I’m gonna start a new batch, I lost track of time with this one.” You whisper towards him, never actually meeting that thin black line of his helmet.

“You don’t have to say it back.” He whispers back to you, taking a seat at the table.

You know you don’t have to.

Honestly the pressure of having to say it is the least of your worries. The most troubling part of this situation is the question that now plagues you which is, do you love him?

You rinse out the last batch of batter from the bowl before starting a new one.

You’ve always been so hesitant with him. Even from the start. You wouldn’t let yourself think about him, then you wouldn’t let yourself feel for him, care for him, want him. At one point you wouldn’t even let yourself like him.

So to think about if you love him?

The only thing you’ve ever let yourself do is hate him. And you never even really did that.

“I didn’t mean to upset you.” He leans forward in his chair, his elbows resting on his knees.

Shit. You’ve been quiet for too long.

“I’m fine, sorry, just… upset about the cakes.” You both know it’s a lie. But neither of you says a thing. He just nods. You work in silence, willing your mind to think of anything else as you scrape the burnt cake tin off into the sink before refilling it with the new batch of batter. As you slide the tin into the oven you turn, unable to face him you turn your gaze elsewhere, to the single shelf in his home.

A few days ago when you were here it was covered in assorted pieces of metal and scrap. Now it’s mostly bare. In a desperate attempt to change the subject you walk over, picking up one of the few remaining scraps.

“What happened to all your stuff? You hold a small metal ball between your fingers as he walks up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as he leans down. You feel the chill of beskar against your skin.

“I used it all.” He’s still being far too vague about all this and you frown, holding the ball up in front of his face.

“You forgot this piece.” He takes it from you as you say it, you don’t remember him taking his gloves off but they are, his bare hands holding it like it’s a precious gemstone.

“This isn’t a part of my secret project,” He murmurs, rolling the ball between his fingers. “this belonged to the kid.”

You have to remind yourself not to pry, that you promised yourself you’d let him talk about it on his own. His free hand snakes around your waist as he stares longingly at the metal piece, you say nothing, giving him the option to go on if he wants. After a brief moment of pause, he continues.

“I tried to buy him a proper toy. Just once. He used to play with this, I thought maybe he was just bored because we spent so much time on the Crest. On one of my jobs I stopped and got him this little stuffed frog toy.”

You think of the frog he picked up from the lake all those moons ago. A pang of sorrow in your chest.

Every time he talks about the kid it seems like he’s talking more to himself than to you, this time is no different. He adjusts himself, standing up straighter so his chin rests atop your head now. He sways you gently to a song that only he hears.

“He tried to eat the damn thing, I tried to explain that it wasn’t for eating but he didn’t seem to care. Once he realized I wasn’t gonna let him eat it he lost interest, threw it into the fresher and went off to find this again.” He sets the ball back onto the shelf and just holds you for a moment. Just when you’re about to reach down to touch the hand he’s resting on your stomach he speaks again, in a whisper, like he isn’t sure he wants you to hear what he’s saying. “I used to worry that he was bored. Spending so much time on the ship with just me, without any of the things a child usually grows up with.” His grip on your waist tightens. “I thought for the longest time that he’d be happier somewhere else. Now I wonder if maybe he was content with what we had.”

The more you let him talk out his feelings the more you realize that deep down Din is one thing above all.

Someone who doesn’t think he is deserving of love.

You turn around in his grip so you’re facing him and don’t hesitate to wrap your arms around his waist, holding him tight. You might not be ready to tell him you love him but that doesn’t mean you can’t show him that he is cared for. He doesn’t move for a moment but eventually holds you back.

He makes no effort to pull away so you don’t either. Staying like that until you have to get the cakes out of the oven before you burn another batch. He follows you in silence as you set the new batch on the table, he reaches for one and you smack his hand away.

“You’re gonna burn your hand, stop that. And I still need to frost them.”

You turn back to the book for the recipe, happy that the two of you seem to be in mutual agreement to not talk about the current situation. As you start pouring the sugar to make the icing you hear a hiss of air, on instinct you turn to face the noise, not realizing until it’s too late that you shouldn’t.

You should feel regret.

But Maker, how could you.

Your eyes fixed on the way he parts his plush lips to take the chunk of pastry he tore off into his mouth, his finger lingering on his bottom lip and that tongue. Darting out to lick his fingers clean. The way the corners of his mouth turn up ever so slightly. You know you shouldn’t look, he’s got the helmet pulled up just enough that you can see the tip of his nose which means he doesn’t even know you’re looking, there’s metal between his eyes and you. You can’t, this is so bad, shit. You just keep finding reasons to not look away, especially now that he’s smiling. You always thought his smile would be condescending, maybe a triumphant smirk, but it’s so… dorky. He’s got such a dopey grin.

Stars, he’s got a dimple.

Are you still breathing?

And you can finally see the facial hair you’ve only ever felt brush up against you. Surprisingly well kept, with a few small bare patches. You want nothing more than to lean forward and kiss each one of them but you’re quickly reminded of how bad this entire situation is as you hastily turn back around. Stirring the bowl in front of you, acting as if nothing happened. Only a few seconds after you’re facing the counter again do you hear the airlock reseal.

You hear a sharp inhale and a part of you worries he knows you accidentally looked but he hisses again before cursing.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” You can hear him breathing heavily through his mouth into the modulator.

Thank the gods.

“I warned you.” You chastise him, turning around and pouring a generous amount of the cinnamon sugar icing onto each of the cakes while they’re still hot so it absorbs into them. “These need to sit overnight in the conservator.”

“Okay, should I put them in now or when I get back tonight?”

You know what he’s really asking.

He wants to know if he’ll be staying with you or coming home alone.

The answer is obvious to you as you nudge the conservator open with your foot, sliding the tins onto one of the shelves.

“I’ll do this now since you won’t be around to. Should we go?” You slip your shoes back on, watching as a bit of tension leaves his shoulders.

“Sure.”

★

It’s a quiet walk back but it isn’t really uncomfortable. You just want to get him back to your room, where he’ll hopefully help you forget about this whole mess.

You waste no time when you get to your chambers. You drag him to the closet, struggling to remove his armor, carefully setting each piece on the floor while he simultaneously lifts your shirt up over your head. Once you have every piece of beskar removed, you find yourself tumbling to the floor as he practically tackles you into the blankets. Both of you fumble for the lamp until finally you manage to flip the switch and it’s like he can’t get the helmet off fast enough because in what feels like a single second, you’re shrouded in darkness, you hear the the sound of air, a thud onto the ground, and his lips are on yours.

You’re waiting for something more to happen, he’d been so urgent just a moment ago but now that you’re here he’s just kissing you.

Of course you aren’t complaining. Every kiss with him feels like a blessing from the Maker themself. You’re just a little surprised.

You had sort of hoped he had plans to ravage you solely for the purpose of distracting you from the question, still searing your every thought, demanding your attention. But instead he kisses you one last time before laying atop your chest, arms wrapped around you. You think about teasing him but there’s something cathartic about this. His willingness to just be with you without searching for more. So you let him.

And when he inevitably falls asleep, his monstrous snores filling the small space, you’re left alone with your thoughts.

Well, thought.

Do you love him?

Do you want to love him?

Loving him means too much.

You tangle your fingers in his curls, in an attempt to soothe yourself.

Loving him is complicated. It means you’ll have to finally answer the rest of the questions you don’t want to so much as think about.

Kids? Marriage? Kodo? Any sort of future.

Loving him puts him at risk.

He’s always been at risk. His choice to love you meant putting his life on the line. Everyday he wanted to be yours was a day that he could be dragged off by one of your husbands unlimited guard members and killed.

Loving him means understanding that you’re on a clock. A clock to get off of Naboo as quickly as possible, to somewhere far away to hunker down. To hide from the inevitable onslaught of search parties that would come after a missing royal.

They’d send bounty hunters.

Kodo doesn’t even like you, but if you ran off with the man he hired to protect you? He would stop at nothing to get you back. The thought of what he would do to Din when he inevitably found the two of you makes your blood run cold.

But you need to push those thoughts away. Yes, they are important but they shouldn’t impact your feelings. Because at the end of the day you either love him or you don’t.

And you can’t even seem to figure that out.

You’ve never been in love before, you don’t really have a frame of reference.

You’ve certainly never felt for anyone the way you feel for him.

Is that love?

If you weren’t already married would you have said it back?

You aren’t even really a wife at this point.

You’re a prisoner.

You aren’t sure when he woke up but he brings you back to reality with a kiss to your chest.

“You should be asleep, princess.” His voice is gravely, still thick with exhaustion. You run your hands along his vast shoulders in an attempt to soothe him back to sleep.

“So should you.” You whisper into the darkness, he hums softly in response.

It goes quiet again. His arms tighten around you and you know he remains awake, every so often he’ll place a chaste kiss to your breast.

Would it be cruel to bring it up again?

At this point he doesn’t seem bothered in the slightest that you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment and you can’t keep fighting these battles alone.

If you love each other, talking about these things is something you would do.

It might be nice. To not be alone with these thoughts for once.

“Din?”

He hums again in response. You feel the scratch of his stubble against your chest as his head turns in your direction.

You should let him sleep. Shut up and not bother him with this.

“What does love mean to you?”

It’s such a corny question but you really are curious.

“What did you say?” For a moment you’re worried you’ve upset him but his tone makes you think he genuinely didn’t hear you.

“What’s it like, to love someone?”

He chuckles softly and a wave of relief washes over you.

“That’s an awfully complicated question, cyare.”

“Okay, then, how did you know?” You purposefully avoid saying the words, “that you loved me.”

“It sort of snuck up on me. It started my first week with you, when being with you started feeling less like a job and more like an honor.”

Does he have to be so good with words? Even in this state, barely awake, he manages to be a goddamn poet.

“Eventually it got to a point where I couldn’t ignore it anymore.” He mumbles his words into your skin.

“When was that?”

“When you gave me a birthday.”

Right before he had ended things.

You don’t have to ask to know now that that's why he did it.

“And that was when you were sure?”

“Yes. That was when I knew I loved you.”

If he’s upset about you not saying it back he doesn’t make it known, he says it so casually.

“What does it feel like?” You run your fingers along the scar on the back of his head.

“It feels like being afraid. There is a certain vein of fear that I had never known prior to meeting the kid, when I los-“ He hesitates. “When he left, I didn’t think I’d ever feel that fear again.” He sighs. “When I met you I learned how to be afraid all over again.”

You sort of understand that feeling.

You felt it when you thought Kodo knew. And you felt it when you imagined Kodo’s reaction to your hypothetical children with Din.

You felt it just moments ago. When you asked yourself if you loved him.

“It’s like all the air leaves the room, replaced with terror. That terror eats away at everything until there’s nothing left.”

All you can think of is the night you found him in the hallway, and you’re certain you’ve never felt that level of fear.

“It’s not all fear though. I assume it’s different for everyone but the fear is only a part of it. For me it mostly feels like devotion and temptation. I know what it is to be devoted, for decades I followed my creed without question, and when I finally did abandon it, it was a matter of life and death, fueled by that fear.”

He sounds half asleep as he says it, like he’s telling himself a bedtime story, and you don’t dare interrupt.

“That’s how I feel about you, except in your case, nothing could make me question my devotion to you, not even a matter of life and death. And as far as temptation goes…” He laughs quietly to himself. “I was unfamiliar with that feeling before you.”

“Temptation?” You whisper to him.

“When will you understand what you are to me, sarad’ika?” He sits up a little, you can’t see him but you feel his nose bump against your jaw as he rests his face in the crook of your neck.

“I know how you feel about me, you tell me quite often.” You’re only half-joking.

“Not how I feel about you, what you are to me. You are so much more than the one I never meant to love, I swear you were created just to tempt me.” You let your hand rest on the nape of his neck as he absentmindedly brushes his lips up against your throat. “If you asked me to remove my helmet, I would.” He murmurs against your throat.

That’s a rather serious claim.

“You could have asked me from the moment I met you. It took time for me to realize I loved you but I have always, been sworn to you.” His fingers trail up and down your torso. “From the moment I first saw you, when you tried to remove my helmet, I promised myself that if you ever tried again, that I wouldn’t stop you.

Maker.

How the fuck do you respond to that?

“We can talk more in the morning. Get some sleep.” He kisses your temple and lays back down against your chest.

He can be annoyingly eloquent when he wants too. You can’t help but wish you were as capable of putting your feelings into words the way he does. Seriously, how are you supposed to top, “When I met you I learned how to be afraid all over again.”

Maybe tomorrow you could try and show him how much he means to you. Since you can’t seem to find the right thing to say, and even if you could he’s already asleep again, snoring at an ungodly volume like he didn’t just profess his profound love to you.

But talking to him helped, from how he describes it, you might just love him too.

★

This morning is much more coordinated than your last.

Din wakes you up before the girls arrive. You have plenty of time to pick out one of the simpler pink gowns in your collection, along with a matching pair of slippers. You leave him there with plenty of time to spare.

The girls don’t question it this time either. Neither of them tries to go into the closet and they waste no time dressing you. Lysa finds you a nice pink nightie from the dresser but you honestly aren’t all that thrilled about it this time around.

It’s getting harder and harder to care about this.

Being dressed up like a doll every day.

Din certainly doesn’t care about what you look like so why even bother at this point? You’re antsy to get back to him and you’re about to hastily thank and dismiss the girls as they finish but Elaine speaks first.

“Princess, would you join me for tea this morning?”

You have no logical reason to refuse and you do enjoy time spent with Elaine.

You just want to be with Din.

But you can’t tell her that.

“Certainly, shall I meet you in the gardens again?”

“I will see you there, my lady.” Both girls give you small bows before leaving. Only a few seconds after they’re gone the closet door opens and there stands your Mandalorian. He makes his way to you, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close.

“Shall I escort you to the gardens, my lady?” He leans down a bit so your eyes are level with the line of his visor.

“Lead the way.”

It’s a short walk and you’re once again surprised by how quickly Elaine has set things up, a table and chairs wait for you in the gazebo.

“Do you think you could find something to do for a few minutes on your own?” You say quietly enough that you know only he can hear it as you approach.

He doesn’t respond but as you step into the gazebo he doesn’t follow you in, once you’re seated he walks off into the garden.

“Seems like things are better between the two of you?” She pours you a cup, making it the way you like it before handing you the saucer.

“Much better.” You smile as you take a sip.

“May I speak freely ma’am?” She sets her cup down and crosses her arms, staring at you. Her tone has gotten so serious so suddenly you’re a bit stunned.

“Of course.”

“Lysa and I stopped coming to help you undress in the evenings many moons ago, we stopped waiting for you to summon us.”

What a strange thing to say.

“Okay?” Is all you can manage, still unsure as to what she could possibly mean by that statement.

“Well, my lady, we just assumed you didn’t need the help anymore…” She stares at you expectantly but you’re still giving her a confused look. “You know…” Her eyebrows are raised but you just shake your head slowly, giving her a blank stare. “With getting undressed.”

Oh.

Not much you can really say about that, she’s right, and you hadn’t even noticed because someone else was undressing you. Still, she can’t expect you to outright admit that.

“I don’t need you to say a word, my lady, I just needed to talk to you, to warn you.” Something about her tone makes you shiver, even out here in the sun.

“About?”

“You’ve been reckless, princess.” You set your cup down.

“Spit it out Elaine, you’re making me nervous.” You laugh anxiously but her expression remains stern.

“Kodo won’t take your absence from dinner lightly. And you’ve been too blatant about your friendship with the Mandalorian. You should act with more caution.”

Well, you had wanted her to be blunt, you can’t be too shocked about that.

“He is not a man who takes kindly to disrespect. He will retaliate if you aren’t careful, that’s all.” You nod as she takes a sip of her tea.

That’s all she says on the subject, quickly moving on to another topic.

Her warning was genuine and you’re thankful for it but you push it from your mind. You will right this wrong and attend dinner with Kodo this week.

★

Tea is short after that.

You aren’t in the mood for small talk anymore, you just want to spend the rest of the day with Din.

You whisper a genuine thanks to her before she departs, and you rush over to where he stands in the flowers.

“Cabin?” He asks. Thankfully he doesn’t risk holding your hand in broad daylight but he lets his knuckles brush against yours.

“Cabin.” You follow him towards the pond and once you’re close enough he scoops you up into his arms to keep you out of the water. “Din! What if someone sees?” You whisper yell at him, eyes scanning the vacant gardens.

“This isn’t any less damning than you walking in on your own. Besides, no one’s around, promise.” He pushes open the door before setting you down, locking up behind the two of you. “I’ve lived here for long enough to know that nobody comes out this far except us. Now, what do you want for the rest of the day?” He kicks off his boots and you set your slippers next to them.

It’s past noon at this point, you have nothing planned.

“Do you want to just stay here? I think today I just want to stay here.” You walk over to the bed, lifting your skirt and taking a seat.

“Works for me, I’m going to get some chores done if you don’t mind.” He removes his gloves, tossing them on the table before kneeling beside the dresser.

“I don’t mind at all.” You scoot back a bit to rest against the wall, you’re actually quite curious to see what he’ll do, and you need time to think of how you’re going to show him how much he means to you.

You watch as he takes out different weapons and tech that you don’t recognize. He tosses his gloves to the side and starts methodically cleaning every item.

You’re sort of hypnotized by his attention to detail, it lets you think.

What does he like?

Green, you, the kid, classic ships.

None of those things can really show him how much he means to you though.

He’s setting different things aside as he finishes any maintenance required, every so often he looks up at you before returning to his work. You feel a little useless just sitting here so you get up to take the cakes out of the conservator.

Suddenly you have his attention.

You don’t dare say a word, letting him just observe in peace. He drops whatever he’s working on, you don’t look but you can feel his visor trained on you.

You take the tins out, setting them on the table before finding a dull knife. Each cake is small enough that you can fit your hands around each tin if you hold your fingers in the shape of a circle. You carve each cake out of its tin and he watches you intently the entire time, you can see him in your peripherals.

So he likes… watching you do a shitty job at taking cakes out of tins?

It’s crass but you go through the list of things that have worked him up before. Things you’ve said to get him to give you what you want during sex.

Two instances come to mind.

The time you unknowingly said I love you.

And then last night, when you told him he could finish inside you.

And now? Your head tilts up just in time to watch him adjust himself in his trousers before sheepishly tuning back to his work when you catch him watching you. It takes a second but eventually things start to click.

He likes watching you look at home in his cabin. He likes the intimate feeling of a simple life. Watching you bake, saying I love you, having kids.

Things a normal couple might do.

He tosses something up onto the bed, you stare at it for a moment as he starts putting other things back into the dresser.

Handcuffs.

Thick, padded, and metal.

You know he intends on using them on you but you act fast, hurrying over to him, taking his hand.

“What are you doing mesh’la?” He chuckles as you sit him down on the bed.

This is gonna be a shot in the dark, but if you’re confident enough, (and right) it’ll be worth it.

“Just, let me take care of you.”

“You already take care of me.” He insists, starting to get up but you firmly plant your hands on his shoulders, pushing him back down. Your plan is rapidly forming in your mind.

“I mean it, now stay put.” He sighs loudly but nods, tilting his head to the side in confusion. No sense in being coy, might as well be clear with your intentions to see if he’s actually into it. “Don’t be a baby, I know you get off on this kind of thing.” The moment you say it he scoffs but you’re already across the room, taking one of the little cakes and putting it onto a plate.

“Excuse me?” “His voice is already terribly defensive but you just laugh it off.

“You’re not the only one who can make observations. You think I didn’t notice the way your tone switched when I offered to bake for you?” He starts to argue but you cut him off. “And I’m definitely not going to ignore how quickly you came when I told you you could finish inside of me.” That surprisingly shuts him up. This might actually be the only time you’ve caught him so off guard that he doesn’t have a response.

You bring the plate over to the bed, setting it on his nightstand.

“You like domesticity.” You lean in to whisper to him. “You want me to take care of you, don’t you Mr. Tough Mandalorian?” You can’t gauge his reaction because of the helmet but you can gauge the tent in his pants perfectly fine.

“Djarin.” He certainly doesn’t sound stern now.

“Djarin?”

“Din Djarin.” You hadn’t even realized until just now that you didn’t know his last name.

You straddle one of his thighs, spreading his legs with your knees.

“Well then, let me take care of you, Din Djarin.” You like the way his name feels in your mouth and based on the way his cock twitches against your leg you’d reckon he does too.

He’s always been so open with you and you’ve always kept him at a distance.

Right here right now, if you weren’t dealing with the worst possible circumstances (your husband), you know that you’d tell him you love him, that you ache for him, that you know fear because of him. You know you love him. And you’re pretty sure he knows it too.

You just aren’t ready to say it.

So you’ll have to show it. (And maybe say a few things that you are ready to say.)

You love each other, at the end of the day you can’t keep censoring yourself when you think about him, he doesn’t deserve that.

You want to show him what he deserves.

You reach behind him and grab the cuffs. As you do his hands wrap around you to tug at your corset strings, an act that he’s getting rather good at.

“You gonna put those on for me, mesh’la?” He drawls. Once he’s loosened your corset enough so that you’ll be able slip out of it you lean back again.

“No.” You grin at him and he immediately shakes his head.

“Absolutely not.” He says the moment you start smiling.

“You’re always in charge, just let me be in charge, I’m doing this for you.” You grab one of his wrists but he easily pulls it away.

“You were in charge last time.”

True, but irrelevant.

“Do you love me?” You stick your bottom lip out a little.

“You’re terrible.”

“I know.” But it works, because when you grab his wrist again he doesn’t pull away.

“You know I can get out of these right? Very easily.” He says, watching you close the first cuff around his wrist, removing the belt around his torso and the one around his waist.

“I know that too, but you love me, so you’re going to leave them on until I take them off.

“This feels less like you’re taking care of me and more like I’m your prisoner.” He mumbles.

“Oh hush, you’d be happy either way.” Once again he seems at a loss for words as you cuff his other wrist, he sets his hands in his lap. You smooth out the fabric of his cowl before carefully removing it, folding it and walking it over to the table and setting it down. “I’ll make you a deal.” You say, turning back to face him. “If you don’t like it then I will stop and we can do this your way. But if you don’t then I will assume I was right, and you do want me to take care of you.” You straddle his thigh again and play with one of the releases on his chest plate.

“You’re being purposefully vague. What does taking care of me entail?” The impatience on his voice trails off as you start releasing his chestplate, finding the little locks, undoing them one by one.

“Well… I just think that you like certain things, and I think you’re too embarrassed to admit it.”

“What things?”

You click the last release and remove his chest plate, walking over to the dresser to set it down carefully before returning.

“You like that I baked for you.” You remove his gauntlets, setting them on his nightstand.

“Who wouldn’t like that?” You swear you almost hear him stutter.

“Oh but I think you really like it. Because you know I did it just for you.” You remove his pauldrons and kneel between his legs to remove the pieces of armor on his thighs. “You like when I hold you, you like seeing me here, in your home, in your bed.” You slide his remaining armor down his legs, setting them aside before standing again and spreading his thighs with your knees to slot yourself between them, your hands grip the edges of his helmet.

“Can I?” You whisper.

After a moment's hesitation he nods.

Your fingers snap the airlocks and you gently lift.

Before closing your eyes you allow yourself one peek.

You’re graced with a bashful smile, and you know that it’s okay, so you squeeze your eyes shut and completely remove the helmet, setting it on the bed beside him. Almost as if on instinct he leans forward and you feel his lips on yours as you gently push him back.

“Let me do it, Din.” You laugh softly. “You don’t have to do everything.” You lean forward this time, hands on either side of his face, running your tongue over that bottom lip you wish you could see. “I’m going to take my dress off.” You mumble into his mouth before pulling back, you turn around and quickly slide your gown down your body, you grab the plate on his bedside table before closing your eyes and turning back around. His restrained hands play with the front of your nightie.

“What are you-” His unfiltered voice is like warm honey, deep and raw, but you silence it by putting two fingers from your freehand to where you assume his mouth is. He starts to speak again so you gingerly slide your thumb between his lips and you hear any more questions he might have flicker out.

“Can you go more than five minutes without asking me a question?” The moment you say it his lips purse like he’s going to ask again, you place your thumb over his tongue. Once you’re certain he isn’t going to interrupt your actions again you remove your hand from his face and tear a chunk of the cake off of the plate. “Open.” You laugh softly as you bring your hand towards his mouth, he immediately starts to protest again but you take the opportunity to stuff the pastry into his mouth, you get lucky and actually manage to get it in on the first try.

If you’re being honest, you aren’t completely sure if this is going to work. You’re still acting on a hunch. A very presumptuous hunch, that deep down he wants nothing more than a quiet, soft life.

A home.

Unless of course you’re wrong. In that case you’re going to be rather embarrassed. Which is starting to be a worry as you realize he isn’t moving, two of your fingers just barely past his lips, he still hasn’t moved and you fell you nerves starting to get the best of you, just as you’re about to withdrawal and apologize for the entire silly affair, his lips close around your fingers. You can’t help but gasp at the feeling, accidentally taking a step back in surprise.

His fingers immediately grasp at what fabric they can on your undergarments, trying to pull you closer again. You’re about to say something smug, along the lines of “I told you so.” But you’re stopped dead in your tracks.

Because Maker, he whimpers.

You let him tug you back between his legs. The cold metal of the cuffs brushes against your thighs.

You reach down and tear off another chunk of the cake, his bound hands guide you back to his mouth, which you're shocked to find is still open as you gently feed him. This time you don't flinch back, his lips close around your fingers and his tongue licks them clean.

This is the temptation he spoke of.

You respect his creed. You’ve sort of taken your own creed, a vow to yourself not to look. But right now it takes all of your restraint to not look. Nothing could possibly make you happier than knowing what he must look like right now, lips wrapped around your fingers, trying to pull you closer.

But just like him, you resist those temptations, finally pulling your hand away.

“I told you I’d take care of you.” You whisper, a slight teasing edge to your voice.

“You’re a strange woman, sarad’ika.” He whispers back.

“So you don’t like this?” You tear off a piece for yourself, popping it into your mouth, feeling the icing coat your tongue. You bask in his silence before picking up the remaining pastry, gently feeding him, tossing the plate blindly onto the bed.

The only answer you need to your question is the way his tongue drags across your palm when he’s finished, you waste no time after that to push him down into the mattress. Letting your lips find his.

His mouth tastes just like it did the first time you kissed.

Vanilla.

His arms go over your head, trapping you in his embrace.

“Tell me I was right.” You pull back from him, grinning.

“I wouldn’t exactly go so far as to say that you were right.” His mouth latches to your chin, peppering a trail of kisses back up to your lips but you pull further back, as far as his arms will let you, eyes still shut.

“You’re a terrible liar, you know that right? Because about thirty seconds ago you were quite literally eating out of the palm of my hand.” He continues trying to kiss you to silence you but you keep turning your head to the side, he settles on your jaw eventually.

“That doesn’t prove anything, I’ve barely eaten anything today, maybe I was just hungry.” He mumbles against your skin.

“Mhmm, sure. Are you sure you don’t like playing house? I think you like imagining me as Mrs. Djarin.”

Whoops. Where the hell did that come from?

“Don’t say that.” His voice isn’t playful anymore as he sits up, keeping you in his lap.

“Kriff, I’m sorry Din, that was too fa-” You hear a metal thud behind you on the floor and his hands are no longer cuffed, they hold your waist now.

“If you don’t mean it, don't joke about that.” His breath is hot on your face and his grip on you tightens.

If you don’t mean it.

So you were right.

Your mind screams at you to be rational. You have a husband, there are a million reasons to apologize and to move on from this.

Stop using the husband that was forced upon you as an excuse.

You can’t keep holding back when it comes to Din. It isn’t fair to him. Not when he gives you everything.

“If I do mean it, can I joke about it?” Your voice is the quietest it’s been all day.

He takes your hands and brings them up to his face, so you can feel him nod.

“I’ll keep joking about it if you tell me I’m right. I’ll joke all night long.” You laugh a little as he brings one of your hands to his mouth so he can kiss your wrist.

“You’re right.”

You can’t help yourself.

“About?”

“I like this.” He drags his lips down your arm before dropping it. “I like when you take care of me.”

“Turn the lights off.” He doesn’t hesitate once you say it, the curtains are all already closed

Once the lights are off he flips you onto your back, you hear everything on the bed clatter to the floor as he tosses it aside.

His bed is lower than yours so his hands grab you by your hips, lifting your bottom half into the air a little, making you squeak in surprise.

“Tell me another joke.” He says under his breath as he spreads your legs so he can grind his still clothed erection against you.

“I thought you were going to let me take care of you?” You scoff at him, hearing his zipper.

“I am,” You gasp as he drops you back down onto the mattress, climbing on top of you. “I’m letting you tell me jokes.” You can practically hear his grin as he guides the blunt head of his cock into your folds. Lazily rubbing it against your clit and leaning down to whisper to you. “You started this with all your talk, is that all it was? Talk? I thought you said you meant it?”

You’re trying to remember how he got the upperhand so quickly but it’s hard to concentrate when he keeps nudging himself against your most sensitive spot.

Everything always happens so fast with him, just once you’d like to turn things around on him and have it work.

“I-I meant it.” Is all you really manage to get out, he brings his cock down a bit to tease your entrance, never actually pushing in. His voice has that condescending tone to it that tells you he’s willing to play this game for a while and you hadn’t really factored in just how aroused you’d get during your display a few minutes ago. You’re soaked and there’s a good chance he’s going to draw this out in retaliation. He swipes his tip back up to your clit, the both of you hiss in unison.

You still have one ace up your sleeve as you recall your conversation from last night.

“So you liked one of my offers?”

“I might have been interested in one of them”

One thing you know he wants.

“Come on, sarad’ika. Where are your jokes?” He chuckles against your skin as he kisses your shoulder.

“I was just trying to think of a baking joke. Can you give me a second?” You gasp out as his free hand reaches underneath you to squeeze your ass before coming up to rest on your hip.

“I know you can do better than a baking joke.” You can feel him grin against you now, his teeth lightly graze your shoulder.

“It’s a shame, you would have liked it.” He goes back to teasing your entrance, pressing himself into you just enough to make you squirm but not enough to actually be inside you. You try to shift your hips downwards but his hand keeps you pinned in place.

“I liked your jokes about Mrs. Djarin.”

It’s now or never.

“Well you liked my cooking as well, so I thought I’d make a joke about a bun in the oven, you’d like that wouldn’t you? Filling me u-”

His hips buck forward and his grip on you tightens to the point of a sharp pain. To seemingly both of your surprises, in an instant he’s buried nearly to the hilt in your heat.

“Maker, Din!” You’re gonna have a brand new set of bruises tomorrow.

“Sorry! I, fuck- sorry.” He’s grunting in your ear, not bothering with your shoulder anymore, burying his face into the pillow next to your head.

“Dank farrik, Din…” You’re reeling from the sudden motion, your head tilted back into the mattress. You need to catch your breath but the muffled groans coming from him distract you. The sting from the sudden stretch you're experiencing is quickly fading and you bring your hands up to his head, one resting in his hair and the other at the nape of his neck.

He wanted to make this a game so you’re going to play, and you’re going to win.

You’re still panting a little as you turn your head to the side so you can whisper into his ear.

“Stars Din, it’s that easy to get you worked up, huh?” His breathing is starting to level out, his grip on you lightens up. “I thought I was easy to rile up but look at you, all this just at the thought of a bun in the oven.”

He isn’t making noise anymore, he’s still against you, listening intently as you run a soothing hand down his spine and back up again.

“I can’t imagine what you’re going to be like when you actually get me pregnant.”

You’re surprised by your own words, like your brain is on auto-pilot and you can’t filter yourself but he fucking whines so you don’t care in the slightest. High pitched and needy, muffled by the pillow. His hips start slowly rocking into you and you bite back your moan, wanting to maintain your advantage.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, pulling his head out of the pillow, savoring the whimper that comes from his as you do.

“Oh come on, you can’t even handle the thought of it?” You breathe out the words and his head falls downwards as you release him, he bites your shoulder. “What does it for you?” He unclenches his jaw, starting to bury his face back into the pillow but you pull him back up again.

“Is it just the idea of finishing in me?”

He doesn’t answer, to be fair you’re barely holding it together either at this point.

“Or do you just want everyone to know I’m yours? Want everyone to see that you knocked me up?”

You get your answer with that because he’s trying to bury his face back into the pillow. A low wail leaves his lips as he frantically ruts into you. How quickly everything’s escalated has you hurtling towards your climax and you can tell by the desperate whine that leaves his lips as he presses them into your collar bone that he won’t be far behind.

“I know you can do better than that, Din.” You mock his tone from earlier but he’s unfazed, pounding into you until finally you can’t tease him anymore because he’s reduced you to gasps and moans.

It doesn’t take long after that.

One after the other.

You first, when his hand travels downwards, it takes only a few precise circles rubbed into your clit and your grip tightens in his hair, your walls flutter around him.

Just like that he’s going over the edge with you.

He pulls out, finishing on your stomach.

You shouldn’t feel upset but there's the tiniest bit of disappointment as you feel his cum against your skin.

He collapses onto the bed next to you, pulling you into his arms.

“I love you.” He presses a kiss into your hair.

“I know.”

★

You sit in the quiet dark for a long while, until finally, you have to ask.

“Do you actually want kids someday?” Your voice breaks the silence of the pitch-black room. “Little Djarin’s running around?”

He rolls over so he’s hovering above you now.

“Are you trying to start round two?” He chuckles, resting his forehead against yours, your nose bumps against his. “I’ll need a few more minutes before I can go again, sarad, but I can keep you occupied until then.” He kisses you quickly, already starting to move his mouth south but you stop him.

It’s so effortless right now. To be happy with him, in the darkness, pushing away thoughts of royal responsibilities. Letting yourself be with just Din, even if it’s brief.

“I’ll take that as a yes?” You ask.

“Yes. Someday.” He kisses your sternum, laying down on your chest.

“With me?”

“No, with Elaine.” You smack the back of his head when he says it, he laughs against your skin. “Yes, with you.”

You let him lay on top of you as you nod to yourself.

“Is it weird that everytime we have sex it turns into a competition?” He starts to laugh once more as you say it.

“It’s weird that you keep losing.”

You smack him again.

★

Your peaceful break from reality is brief, as always, as you sit up.

“We have to go. I can’t be out all night.” The last thing you want to do is return to your room right now, you want to stay here, the cabin feels more like home than any room in the castle ever has.

He seems as unhappy with this as you are. The two of you dress in silence once he flicks the lamp back on, you turn around until you hear him reattach his helmet.

You hold his hand on the walk back. You don’t have much to say right now, you’re certain at this point that you’ve made it clear that you love him.

That you just aren’t ready to say it.

And he doesn’t seem to mind.

You’re ready to just sleep. Your blanket nest seems more and more inviting the closer you get to the castle.

The two of you sneak in through the back entrance and as always the castle is quiet at night. You keep your hand in his as you make your way up the steps.

It isn’t until you get to the hallway where your chambers are located that you hear it.

A persistent banging sound and someone yelling incomprehensibly.

Din immediately drops your hand.

Neither of you speaks as you walk but he shifts himself so he’s walking ahead of you, as you get closer you recognize the distinct, nasally voice.

In the dim light of the hall you see Kodo, banging on your bedroom door.

“Wife, come now, you can’t ignore me, I’m your husband.” He hisses, you can smell the alcohol on him from here.

Shit. Shit. Shit.

“Kodo, are you okay?” You plaster on a faux look of concern as you approach, Din tries to put his hand up to stop you but you ignore it.

He turns to stare at you, his clothes are askew and he isn’t even wearing his crown.

“Wife! Where have you been?” He slurs, leaning in for a kiss that you sidestep, he doesn’t seem bothered by your rejection.

“I went on a walk.” You answer quickly and he takes hold of your waist, you try not to look too repulsed.

“You skipped dinner yesterday, dear wife.” He teeters a bit, leaning towards you as you again try to avoid his kiss but this time he holds you firmly in place, it’s sloppy and you have to wipe a bit of spit from your face after.

“I did, I wasn’t feeling well.” Your voice is getting smaller and smaller as you feel fear bubbling in your chest.

“Where are your guards?” There’s no respect in Din’s voice, no “your highness” or “your grace.” No one speaks to Kodo that way, not even you, but he’s too drunk to even notice.

“I dismissed them, as is customary when one is visiting his bride’s chambers.” Kodo lurches forward, his hands sloppily grope the fabric of your skirt and you make an audible groan of discomfort.

“We should get you back to your own chambers, come now dear husband.” You try to sound patient, you know he’s capable of violence and you don’t want to push him in this state.

“Why would we do that, wife? Come now, tonight I shall join you in bed. I missed you last night.” He hisses the words and you know he didn’t miss you in the slightest, this is a punishment.

This is what you get for disobeying.

For skipping your dinner with him.

This is the inevitable thing that has made you unable to tell Din you love him. This looming promise of Kodo.

There’s nothing you could possibly do right now to escape the fate before you. The fear you feel right now is certainly not the fear of love that Din described to you.

But that quickly changes.

You don’t get a chance to react as Din takes a step between you and Kodo, he doesn’t even wind up, he just drives his fist forward and you hear the sickening crunch of your husband's nose just before he slumps to the floor.

As you stare at Din, you know your fear has changed. His shoulders heaving, his rage fills the corridor as you listen to his ragged breaths through the modulator. He turns around to face you, but you just stare at his hand, where the evidence of this potentially deadly mistake is dripping down his fingertips. You have never been more terrified for another person's life the way you are right now for Din.

You’re mesmerized by the little speckles of your husband's blood, a stark contrast to the yellow fingertips of his gloves.

And suddenly it feels like all the air leaves the corridor as you finally look into his visor, you don’t see Din though, all you see is what they’re going to do to him for this.

I am no longer doing taglists so follow @lincolndjarinnotifs and turn on notifications to be notified when new chapters are posted !!

#lincolndjarin #the mandalorian #best kept secret #bks #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian x you #din dijarin x reader #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin fanfiction #mandalorian smut #din djarin smut

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biscuitboba · 1 month

Note

Hii, do you have some zolu/luzo ff rec??

Hii!!, uhh i have over 100 zolu/luzo fics downloaded YES OF COURSE, i'll try and list down some (many) fics with one chapter only cuz i'm not sure if i can stop recommending if i include multi chaptered fics... (But if you want some rec for the multi chaptered fics just let me know!! Ohh and maybe some ongoing fics?)

This is gonna be a very long post😭🙏

Bleed like an Idiot by Augment [13k words]

Rating: Mature (for mild gore/torture)

Something something about their fear of disappointing/failing each other, the perfect amount of angst, so good

Not that Luffy wouldn’t die for each and every one of his crew, and he knows, though he will make sure it never ever happens, that they would die for him. But to supersede Zoro’s dream like this, that makes Luffy feel so hideously guilty it locks up his lungs, and his jaw, and he can’t speak, touch Zoro, anything.

The salt & the sea by novks (thychesters) [25k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Modern setting, reincarnation au. Zoro being the last person to regain his memories (of his past life) and luffy being lowkey annoyed by it lol

It’s like with Nami, hitting him full force, but it’s so much more than that as the reality of it all comes crashing down around him. Zoro, his (first mate, first friend in this world of pirates, first crew member and first one he swore an oath with), his—he isn’t even sure what to call him. There’s too much but too little to describe him.

Zoro. Zoro, who—no, no, no offense to Nami—should have been first. Zoro, who’s a constant, and he’s practically vibrating with the need to reach and touch him, make sure he’s really real. His tongue darts out to wet his lip as he steps forward, crowding into his personal space and finally grinning because I found you!

Luffy wants to call him an idiot, because it figures he would get lost finding his way home.

But Zoro just blinks at him, flushes, one eye still framed by a familiar scar and says, “Oh, sorry,” and makes it so much worse when he says, “Do I know you?

Of First Mates and Duty by Whatev3rs [14k]

Rating: General Audiences

Zoro's bad at feelings, but he is trying ok!!

“First mates… we devote our lives to our captains. Our entire beings. We live for them, breathe for them. And they expect us not to fall in love?” He smiles, small and knowing.

Zoro’s eyes widen and he sputters, trying to muster a response. The man only laughs more.

Being a good first mate was easy enough for Zoro. That is, until the… feelings.

If I Had to Give a Reason by MiniPandaBuns [5k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Tooth-rotting fluff, Zoro and his view of luffy, #feelings, love confession, idiots in loveee

“I wonder what you see in him.”

"Too much." He'd say. "It's endless. All of my reasons can't be condensed into words."

I love him simply because he exists. Because Luffy is Luffy, limitless and free.

Inseparable on the face of Impossibility by the11thhour [25k]

Rating: Not Rated

Luffy is taken by some bad guy, his boyfriend and family (crew) to the rescue! #superworriedzoro:(

A fun trip to a new island takes a turn for the worse when a mysterious group of pirates cause trouble and Luffy goes missing. The crew led by Zoro embark on a mission to get their captain back while his vivre card burns away.

When the Dew Falls Up by louluna [10k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Time travel au, there are two zoros!!

As the bright light enveloped his body, Zoro knew his day had gone to absolute shit.

New year's kiss by grimsoul [4k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Post wano, the title is pretty self explanatory i guess.. fluff, very sweet!!

Luffy didn’t understand back then but the couple seemed so happy. Kissing someone to strengthen a relationship must have really worked.

It’s been long since that time so Luffy had almost forgotten about it. But then as he sails again now with his crew—the title of an Emperor latched to his name, their journey getting closer and closer to the One Piece, to his dream—a new year approaches them.

Found in the Crack of Your Palm by The_Furthest_City_Light [11k]

Rating: General Audiences

#luffybeingsuperdemisexualatzorofor11k (personally demi luffy is my favorite headcanon of him!)

Zoro’s hands are big, thick and knuckly and covered in calluses from his swords. He has a strong grip, too, and strong muscles because he trains them to be strong.

None of it explains the way Luffy’s body lights up when Zoro clasps the back of his neck, like every nerve is alight and trained on the palm cupping the baby hairs at the back of his skull. His stomach knots over itself and he wants to eat everything in Sanji’s kitchen. Zoro’s skin is a little rough and sweaty from fighting and warm.

Zoro is close, his forehead nearly butting Luffy’s and Luffy couldn’t move if he wanted to, trapped there by the closeness and the touch that makes him aware of Zoro’s skin against his in a way he’s never been before.

Zoro’s eyes bore into his, digging deep into Luffy and dragging out—something, buried in the base of his spine. He feels like the earth is tilting, and freefall seems like it might be fun.

the moon asks a question by d_s_writes [1k]

Rating: General Audiences

A very short fic, but can't stop thinking about the rest of strawhats and their idea of love vs luffy's, like- he really gagged me here😭

Zoro doesn’t understand—how can he feel all the things that the others had spoken of, yet none of it the same time? He felt that each of their versions of love were merely motions of love, rather than love itself.

He doesn’t get it. Love has never been a word, or a sense of belonging, or any of those things. He had only ever really thought of love when he looked at Luffy.

OR: An investigation of the lives and loves of the Strawhat Pirates.

Robin knows by leopardgeckoz [3k]

Rating: General Audiences

Oh moment for both zoro and luffy but especially for the oblivious captain

In which Nico Robin has always known how her captain and first mate feel for one another, and the scenario's in which the rest of the crew discover it.

Alternatively

"Every passing hour of Luffy's silence drove Zoro further and further into madness. He wanted Luffy's smile, his laugh, his chatter, but his captain had spent the better part of the day on the complete opposite sides of the ship as Zoro. Out of sight, but most certainly not out of mind. If anything, his absence plagued Zoro's even more."

step 1: die by swordsmans [11k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Roronoa zoro and his unstoppable self destru sacrificing tendency for his one and only captain (featuring sanji!)

After two years with Ivankov, Sanji knows something about Luffy that Zoro does not.

ship to wreck by novks (thychesters) [9k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Zoro and luffy but from nami's perspective?? Mutual pinning and luffy's oh moment

Nami is the first one to notice something is amiss, but then given her current competition is Luffy and Zoro, it isn’t surprising.

“Do you love Zoro?” She doesn’t bother beating around the bush. Doesn’t bother with easing into it with any metaphors or small talk, one of which Luffy would have little interest in, and the other of which would go over his head.

He stares back at her, and for a split second she feels like she’s gone and shoved her foot right into her mouth. Something flickers through his eyes, but she doesn’t have time to fully study it before his features shutter again.

Luffy tilts his head. “Of course I do.”

Part of her wants to cheer, shout aha! because she knew it, dammit, but then he proceeds to barrel right over that.

“I love you too,” to which she freezes, and then: “And Usopp, and Sanji, I guess. You guys are my friends.”

She wants to scream.

But Patience Boasts by Augment [9k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Ughh i love the way this fic portray zoro and sanji's dynamic… anyways, lowkey wingman sanji!

Sanji and Zoro have very different love languages.

Kizuna by YokoHogawa [5k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

#nakamaship, basically

Usopp carefully watches Luffy over the sandwich he is biting into, and he can’t help but worry.

Sanji has an anxiety problem.

Something wakes Zoro at the crack of dawn.

Half a step (into the sun) by TheOctopusofWriting [29k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Demon prince zoro, that's it, that's the point.

Zoro was the exiled prince of an island of demons. He spent the first portion of his life wandering from island to island without any place to really call home, that is until he follows a boy in a strawhat out to sea and finds the home he'd been looking for

to cut your teeth on love by freckledshoulderblades [10k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Smth smth the bond between captain and first mate...

Zoro meets Luffy and gives himself over wholeheartedly the instant Wadō is placed between his teeth again. Luffy meets Zoro and decides in a heartbeat that Zoro is his

Take Me Out to Sea by MiniPandaBuns [3k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audience

Just them being all sweet and wholesome<3

Luffy and Zoro take a pleasant little swim together, despite the fact that Luffy can't swim and Zoro told him no. Many times.

He just can't refuse his Captain. Even if he does, Luffy still wins, because he's just Luffy and that's how it goes.

everybody wants your time by dwaal [3k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Uhh abo au, omega zoro and alpha luffy, jealousy, bonded mates, making out, y knoww~

An unclaimed omega on the seas can be a liability. It's commonplace for captains to bite any of their crew to prevent any incidents, but the marks are usually temporary.

Zoro is intensely aware of this, as Boa Hancock proceeds to make herself at home on the arm of his captain's chair

it's an ambush! by tuhituhi [3k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Zoro meeting his bf's brothers for the first time!

Luffy's middle name should be B. for Blindside the way he's constantly taking Zoro off guard. Or maybe the D. stood for Devious, or Devil- any of them would fit, considering the Situations this man has put him through. OR

Zoro meets Luffy's brothers. Was he expecting this? Technically. Was he prepared for this?

Not in the slightest

end of summer (now i know) by taka0 [2k]

Rating: Mature

Just luffy being very sappy (and a tiny bit horny) about his zoro<3

Luffy loves all of Zoro while they lie in a hammock.

Ocean theology by swordsmans [40k]

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Reincarnation au, yearning and devotion, symbolism-

“Zoro—”

“Did you know?” he repeats, desperate, and Luffy just looks at him. And he wonders, then, how much of this has been preordained—how much of this is real, how much of this is him. How much of what he’s felt since they were wedged side-to-side in a shitty wooden boat on the East Blue has actually mattered, and how much has been the universe pressing him down into the mold of someone else's heart.

And then Luffy is gripping his horns, bringing his forehead down to meet his, repeating, “Zoro? Zoro?” like his name is a mantra, like he’s gone somewhere far away and gotten lost on his way back.

And Zoro blinks at him, then, and sees both of them at once—both of them—and he grips Luffy’s face in his own hands (claws) and presses his lips (violent, full of teeth) against his. Because this is who he has been waiting a thousand years for, the brightest and most beautiful of them all, the one thing he could never have—could never see, not if (Luffy, Joyboy, Nika) had made different (worse) choices—the thing that could never thrive in the darkness, just like he could never (has been unable to for centuries) survive without it—

let thy sword be thy tongue by queerweather [14k]

Rating: Mature

Sword language, sword personification, swords- zoro not being so normal about his captain, whats new?

It’s strangely exhilarating, imagining himself on his knees in front of Luffy, blindfolded. Like he really is getting executed this time. All of Zoro’s senses stand at attention and his mouth fills with saliva.

The flat of Kitetsu’s blade presses cold against Zoro’s cheek. “Zoro,” Luffy scolds. “I haven’t even done anything yet.”

Hindsight is twenty-twenty, and Zoro is not afraid of Luffy handling his swords; Zoro is afraid of how Luffy handling his swords might unravel him.

The only animal by batman [10k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content)

It's about roronoa zoro and how he pines for his captain

It wasn't until Kuraigana that he realised how the world had split into two kinds of touch: swords and hands.

Luffy's hands.

(In a stolen week between islands, Luffy touches Zoro again.)

Sunward bound by iffervescent [13k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content, top zoro)

Ace luffy & sex positive luffy!!

Zoro's a pirate bounty hunter, which means he's used to going after the pirate he wants and getting them. Except this time the pirate he wants is his captain and now he has no fucking clue what to do.

Expressions by Leoporidae_Lagomorpha [2k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content, top luffy)

Them being disgustingly in love whats new?, sexy times (plot what plot)

Monkey D. Luffy knows, that despite popular opinion, Roronoa Zoro is a man of many expressions.

hanabi | 花火 by narramin [8k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content, top luffy)

Just the captain and his first mate being silly while enjoying their date in wano (eventual smut)

firework /ˈfʌɪəwəːk/

noun

plural noun: fireworks

• a device containing gunpowder and other combustible chemicals which causes spectacular effects and explosions when ignited, used for display or in celebrations.

• a display of great skill or energy.

Luffy and Zoro finally reunite in Wano, visit a gambling den and go on a less than traditional festival date night.

a tale of two gods by grimsoul [6k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content, top zoro, implied switching)

Sun of God x God of death. a fiery tryst between two gods

“Ne, Zoro, come with me,” Luffy said, giggling, pulling him closer. “You’re going to be a part of my court.”

Contrary to what most people believed, hell was a rather cold place. Zoro had been quite used to it, the lack of light, the vast glaciers, his body no longer as fragile as it was eons ago, and so a simple touch like this from Luffy, from the sun, made him feel like his flesh was scorched—melting away easily like winter in summer’s heat.

They were close, so close that their foreheads were almost touching, and despite the burn of it, Zoro didn’t push him away. He smirked, his one eye glowing just as red as Luffy’s.

“Don’t decide something on your own, idiot.”

running just to keep my hands on you by nevermordor [6k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content, switching)

They are so competitive in pretty much everything lol

The thing they do is kind of like a game, because Luffy likes games, but it’s also kind of a competition because Zoro can’t not turn anything and everything into a competition. It doesn’t have a name and there are only two rules, because more than two would just be making things boring and overcomplicated.

1. Whoever takes out the most guys in a fight is the winner

2. Whoever is the loser has to do whatever the winner says

“Why’s it gotta be a whole game and stuff," Luffy says. "That’s gonna take too long.”

“It makes sex more fun," Zoro explains. "You gotta win it, you gotta earn it. Like anything good in life. Like pirate king or greatest swordsman.”

Luffy considers this.

One on one by EclecticIsMyMiddleName [6k]

Rating: Explicit (sexual content, top luffy)

Post canon, domestic married luffy and zoro my beloved… they are so in love?? It's sickening

Zoro's just trying to get ready for the day, but Luffy has other plans

Prayers Carried on Waves Reach the Sun by anarchycox [8k]

Rating: Mature (sexual content, switching)

Sun god luffy & demon zoro ftw

Luffy is the sun god, Nika. Zoro is a demon. And his boyfriend. They make it work. On earth the Thousand Sunny is the ship of worship for the sun god, the crew Nika's priests. When they call for help, Luffy and Zoro go to their aid.

Luffy decides they should stay a while, and Zoro loves him enough to do so.

Being human is a pain and stupid, but for his Luffy, he'll endure it.

Ok i need to stop here cuz it's getting way too longgg, but i'm just so ill about the two of them sorry not sorry😭😭

#zolu #luzo #monkey d. luffy #roronoa zoro #one piece #fics recs #honestly whats stopping me from recommending over 50+ fics??#self preservation!#also uhh to anon... reminder to read the tags before reading the fics!!#also is zoluzo an actual tag?

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turtletaubwrites · 3 months

Text

Numbers Game ~ Part 1

Thank you @discordantwritings for this request! I've been so excited to write some Cross Guild shenanigans, I hope you enjoy it! Also, this will be part 1 because I did turn it into a whole ass thing, lol. Just a miniseries, I swear!

Pairings: Cross Guild x Fem!Reader (Eventual smut, but not this chapter. Reader is in a relationship with Buggy first, then meets the others in this chapter.)

Word Count: 2863

Ao3 Link

Summary: You left your stable/boring life as an investment banker to have some adventure. Unfortunately, that sweet Warlord of the Sea didn't follow your financial advice, and now you and your clown are at the mercy of his biggest lender and his new business partner.

Rating/Warnings: Eventual Smut, 18+, MDNI, AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Alcohol, Swearing, Angst, Established Relationship, Canon Typical Violence, Manipulation, mention/brief threat of slavery, Humiliation, Blood and Violence, Pet names, Power Imbalance, Crocodile is a villain

A/N: The reader starts out with Buggy, so Crocodile and Mihawk will be enemies to the reader at first. Crocodile in particular is a VILLAIN toward the reader at first, threatening violence and there's a mention of paying off debts by selling Buggy and reader into slavery, as he threatened in the anime. Please do not read this if toxic, threatening relationships are triggering for you. Dynamics will shift after the initial chapters, but he's still a villain and I wrote him that way in this fic. It's very much dark romance style/bad guys need love too/Mafia boss type vibe.

Fuck, my sister was right.

“Hurry it up, Y/N, it’s time to go!”

“But, Captain Buggy,” you matched his near frantic whisper, “Your crew are calling for you. Don’t you need to give them orders?”

“Fine, fine! Just keep packing!”

You barely heard the commands and lies that he spewed from the balcony, your hands shaking as your mistakes blared through your mind.

You’d been so bored. You had a good, stable life. You were great at your job. You’d started at a bank, and soon you were managing investments for wealthy clients who didn’t want to do their own work to stay wealthy.

You were so good with numbers. So good at helping your clients make smart, safe choices.

Yet here you were, about to get killed by the fucking Navy because you’d wanted a little adventure.

The screams started getting louder, and you heard what had to be explosions, luckily not close by. Yet.

Kat told me this clown would get me killed.

Tears burned in your eyes as you pictured your sister’s face, pinched with worry and shock.

“He works for the government now! I’m going to help run his organization, I’ll handle the finances, and his mercenaries will help the Navy out.”

“Are you fucking insane? He’s a Warlord! Not some Navy officer,” Kat almost yelled, face red as she leaned toward you.

“I… He’s different, okay. He’s really sweet,” you mumbled, looking down as your fingers twisted in your lap.

“Oh my fucking gods, Y/N, did you fuck that clown? What has gotten into you?”

You didn’t know what you were grabbing and packing, tears streaming freely now.

“Captain! The warships around the island are getting attacked!”

“Who’s helping us,” Buggy screamed, and the confusion and hope in his voice made you drop everything.

Racing to the balcony, you were just in time to watch two Navy warships go down in flames.

Desperate hope filled you now, and you reached for his hand.

He pulled away as news of who your savior was came closer, shouts of triumph sending chills through you, freezing Buggy in place.

“It’s Crocodile! He really does work for Chairman Buggy! We’re saved!”

Crocodile. Crocodile!

All those berries, drained away with Buggy’s antics. All those berries that you were technically supposed to be in charge of.

All of it was Crocodile’s.

“Buggy, Buggy, please. Where can we hide?”

He turned at your hoarse whisper, his mouth hanging wide in shock.

“Buggy!”

“We don’t have the money to pay him. He’s gonna kill me!”

His strained voice grated your nerves as you pulled on his hand, dragging him away from the balcony, and the adoring eyes of his henchmen.

He was near babbling as you pulled him along, searching for anywhere to hide.

A frustrated sob left your throat as you remembered what you’d been feeling recently, even with his idiotic spending, and refusal to listen to your words of reason.

I thought I was falling for him.

But the sight of him falling apart now, not only failing to protect you, but even himself, was making you regret every single moment.

Your heart felt raw, burning more with each yank on his hand, especially since his hand was only connected to that fucking pouch he likes to wear.

Then that hand was torn away from yours, Buggy’s yelp making you jump.

Buggy went flying over your head, sliding down the hallway with a grunt.

Before you could turn around, you were encased in someone's shadow. You shook as you felt the heat of a body, inches from you. The first thing you saw was the glinting gold of a massive hook, then you had to crane your neck.

Towering above you was a man in lavish clothes, a purple vest with an orange scarf, and a fur coat. He seemed to be ignoring you, his cigar dangerously close to dropping ash onto your hair.

You felt like prey, like a rabbit. Shivering in fear, just waiting for the wolf to walk away or devour you.

“I know you,” he directed at Buggy, his deep voice rumbling through you. “I thought you’d try to flee without paying me back.”

I’m so close to him. How can he tell I’m so weak? If I had a weapon I could try to hurt him.

As if he could read your thoughts, Crocodile looked down at you, tapping his cigar off to the side before the ashes fell.

“I don’t know you.”

Your mouth gaped open as you stared into his cold, scarred face.

“Well, you see, Crocodile,” Buggy started bullshitting, moving closer. “Buggy’s Delivery Service may look like it’s doing well, but we’ve, uh… We’ve lost a lot of our big earners, and…”

Buggy trailed on, spouting excuses that made you want to scream at him, until you felt his hand grip the back of your shirt.

He slowly pulled you backward, away from Crocodile. New tears fell as your pathetic clown tried to shift his body in front of yours, shielding you.

He was too late.

The sting of cold metal wrapped around your neck as Crocodile’s hook captured you, like the prey you were.

He yanked you up, until your toes were barely scraping along the ground as he looked you over.

“If you can’t pay, clown, we can sell you into slavery. I wonder how much your woman is worth.”

“Come on, Crocodile,” Buggy drawled, inching closer again. “Don’t say such horrible things! We broke out of Impel Down together, didn’t we?”

“I lent you money for that sake,” he countered calmly, before looming over Buggy with even more danger edging his voice. “But if you can’t pay, you’ll have to take full responsibility.”

“Responsibility,” Buggy choked out, eyes flicking to you when you gasped from Crocodile's movements.

“I’m gonna found a new company, so I need money now.”

You could see the frantic wheels spinning in Buggy’s head before he puffed himself up, making his body look huge as he spread his limbs out in the red fabric.

“Then, let me help you with that business! This former Warlord of the Sea will serve under you. I’ll work off my debt! We have great resources!”

You brought your hands up to hold onto the hook as Crocodile lifted you even higher. You couldn’t tell if he was doing it on purpose, or if he had just forgotten that he was holding you there. You watched Buggy try to sell the plan, try to save you both.

“We have advertising design, printing, transportation, and the finest financial adviser on the seas.”

Buggy emphasized the last with jazz hands shaking wildly in your direction, and you cringed.

Crocodile hummed, setting you on the ground in front of him, but still tugging on your neck with that cold metal as he looked you over. You let out a breath when he released your neck, but then the sharp point of the hook traced teasingly on your cheek, stopping your breath entirely.

“W-Wait, come on, Croc. We’re pals! You don’t need to–”

“If you’re in charge of the finances,” Crocodile breathed down on you, ignoring Buggy’s pleas, “then it’s your fault that all my money is gone, isn’t it?”

You started to shake your head, but the cold prick of metal held you frozen.

“No, it wasn’t her fault,” Buggy almost yelled, voice missing its chummy tone now. “Please, we didn’t– I didn’t follow her advice. Tell him baby, you’ve got all those plans you made, right? The investments?”

Your eyes clenched shut, a wave of tears cascading down as he defended you.

“Is that true, girl? Did you try to keep this idiot from wasting all my money?”

His breath was hot on your face as he leaned over you. Your lip quivered as you waited for him to open his jaws, and swallow you whole.

“Tell me.”

“I… I created a plan to manage those funds, using much of them to invest and create reciprocal income for the organization.”

His eyes burned into you, silently demanding more.

“Unfortunately, I was not able to go forward with those plans,” you said weakly, eyes looking down, seeking freedom from his glare.

“I wonder why that could be, hmm?”

He brought his hand to your face now, huge fingers gripping your chin to force your eyes back to his.

“Tell me why all of my money is gone. You are the financial advisor, aren’t you? Should I bleed the berries out of you?”

“No, I’m sorry,” you stuttered, eyes fluttering down again until his grip on your face became painful.

“It’s okay, baby,” you heard whispered behind you.

“Ca-Captain Buggy did not follow the financial plans that I laid out for him, or my recommendations to adjust spending when funds became low.”

Crocodile’s lip twitched up, and he released you, making you stumble.

He reached for Buggy, hitting him again until he slid across the floor.

“No, please!”

“Why are you crying for this potato sack? He nearly got you killed.”

The menacing man sighed as you failed to speak, then grabbed Buggy by the hair.

“Don’t worry, we’re not killing him yet. Go get your paperwork, I wanna see if you really are a numbers girl.”

Shame flooded you as you nodded, doing nothing as Buggy was dragged away like trash.

There’s nothing I can do. Numbers, money, that’s all I’m good at.

Taking a deep breath, you reminded yourself that you are really good at that. And maybe that skill could help you get out of here alive.

Maybe I can help Buggy after all.

That sliver of hope vanished when you walked through the door, your briefcase in hand.

Off to the side you saw Buggy’s officers, eating and laughing happily, as if nothing had happened.

As if their Captain’s head wasn’t dangling from Crocodile's hand, bruised and bloodied while that hook kept shoving against his skin.

Crocodile was seated on the plush, green couch, using Buggy’s limp body as a foot rest. He held Buggy’s head over the middle of the couch, between him and another man.

The other man’s cold, amber eyes felt like blades through your skin as you froze in the doorway. You recognized him, though you’d hoped you’d never meet the swordsman in person.

Dracule Mihawk. What the fuck has my life turned into?

Buggy coughed, spitting out a piece of paper. That stupid fucking flyer his men had made.

They hadn’t even waited for approval before spending the money on printing and distributing it. You’d wanted to strangle every fucking dumbass that touched it when you saw the bill.

“The word ‘humiliation’ isn’t enough to express how I feel,” Crocodile growled, as Buggy apologized for the Cross Guild poster, showing Buggy as their leader.

“As much as I’d like to kill him,” Mihawk mused, his voice filled with calm disdain, “it’s not a bad idea to have him as our figurehead. I would rather live peacefully than become an Emperor of the Sea.”

He stood gracefully, heading to the counter to pour himself a glass of wine. He turned to look back, his head tilted like an animal watching for prey.

“Let him take the heat, and we can get rid of him whenever we want.”

“You’re right,” Crocodile laughed, shoving his hook into Buggy’s mouth.

You let out a choked gasp, grateful that they weren't going to kill him now, but feeling the looming threat that the future held.

And there were Galdino, Alvida, and even Mohji and Cabaji, ignoring his pain, laughing and stuffing their faces. Their betrayal made you ache for Buggy.

Until you remembered the danger you were still in.

I’m betraying him too. I’m going to work for these men. I’m going to stay alive.

“Who is this,” Mihawk drawled as he took his seat again.

“Uh, I–”

“This might be our numbers girl. If she proves herself,” Crocodile threatened, dropping Buggy’s head onto the floor behind the couch, before patting the cushion beside him.

“Come here, girl. Show us how useful you can be.”

With wide eyes, you walked toward them, avoiding stepping on Buggy’s body as you sat between the two terrifying men.

Crocodile’s arm rested on the back of the couch behind you, so you sat slightly forward, avoiding his touch.

Mihawk tilted toward you, and you found yourself staring at the beautifully embroidered details of his black and gold coat, avoiding looking at his bare chest and abs between the rich fabric.

He cleared his throat, making you jolt, before bringing your shaky fingers to unlatch the briefcase. You struggled, gasping when Mihawk reached over your lap to open it for you.

“Gods, Galdino, will you bring this girl a drink," Crocodile huffed, and you could feel his eyes on you. "Where the fuck did the clown pick up such a skittish little thing, huh?”

You focused on your paperwork, pulling out some of the plans you’d initially brought to help manage the funding Crocodile had provided.

Mihawk took them gingerly from your hands as Galdino passed you a glass of wine. You were sure that he must be pissed at being ordered to serve you like a waiter.

You chugged the whole glass of wine, closing your eyes while Crocodile chuckled, and Mihawk reviewed your work.

“It’s well done,” he praised, handing it to his partner. “These skills will be helpful with getting this operation running.”

“As long as the idiots in charge actually listen, of course” Crocodile joked, flipping through the pages.

He tossed the papers aside, motioning for Galdino to fill your glass again.

“Sorry about all of that in the hallway. You work for us now.”

“Okay,” you breathed out, barely audible.

The back of his hook touched your face, the smooth metal guiding you to look at him.

He studied you for a moment, and your brain tried to make sense of him, of what was happening. His black hair was slicked back, a few stray strands falling over his forehead. The long scar across the middle of his face made your brain hurt. You couldn’t imagine what kind of wound that must have been.

His deep set eyes were judging you, and you fought every instinct to hold his gaze instead of running.

Finally, he let out a low laugh.

“When I find something of value, I protect it. Do your job well, and you’ll be taken care of. Better than with this clown, that’s for sure.”

You winced as his foot dug into Buggy’s body, eliciting a moan from the man who’d brought you here.

Chewing the inside of your lip, you sipped on your second drink as they discussed plans to announce the lie that Buggy really is the leader.

They don’t need me here. I’ll just go to my room.

Each time you almost stood, or asked to be excused, your brain went blank. You just sat there, between these two ex Warlords, these two men who radiated power. The night went on, until all of Buggy’s betrayers trickled out.

“Wait.”

Crocodile’s deep voice commanded as you stood to follow Alvida and Galdino out, desperate to not be alone with these men. But here you were.

“What’s your name? Unless you want us to call you Numbers Girl.”

You settled on the couch, still sitting away from the back to keep from leaning against Crocodile’s arm.

“It’s Y/N.”

“I am curious, Y/N,” Mihawk spoke up, swirling his wine in its glass. “How such an intelligent and attractive woman ended up with this pathetic clown.”

“Please, leave her alone,” Buggy’s weak voice creaked up from behind the couch.

“It’s just curiosity,” Mihawk continued, and you couldn’t help meeting his golden gaze, his large hat tilting down toward you.

“Come, Y/N,” Crocodile joined in, “I could use a laugh. How did you end up with Buggy?”

“We… We met at a bar.”

They stared, and your skin practically crawled at the pressure for more.

“I’m an– I was an investment banker. I was having a drink after work, and overheard Buggy discussing his new organization. I offered my services.”

You shifted your head slightly to look back and forth at them, and their confused faces almost made you laugh. Almost.

“Why,” Crocodile asked, his deep voice almost dangerous as he demanded an explanation. Mihawk just cleared his throat, and took another sip.

You wanted to comfort Buggy. To remind him that you’d been drawn to him. That he was funny, and sweet, and that your time together that night was what made you want to join him.

But you knew the real reason you chose to go with Buggy, and you knew they’d only punish you both if you talked about being with him. So you told the truth.

“I was bored.”

It felt like the air around you shifted. The weight of their stares, and the sound of their low laughter made your skin flush with heat.

They both leaned forward, surrounding you as they brought their glasses to tap against yours.

“Don’t worry, sweetheart,” Crocodile’s husky voice rumbled beside you. “You won’t be bored with us.”

Likes and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I hope you enjoyed this first chapter! It hurt beating up my Buggy boy like this, but I made it through, lol

Part 2

#cross guild x reader #buggy x reader #mihawk x reader #crocodile x reader #reader Insert #fem!reader #one piece x reader #fic requests #inbox #x reader #turtletaub fics #eventual smut #mine #one piece fanfic #buggy fanfiction #sir crocodile x reader #dracule mihawk x reader

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tennessoui · 9 months

Text

kit's list of obikin fic recs in no particular order

y'all asked and i finally answered.....here's a list of fics i've read and adored this year! note that i've tagged things that i think could squick people (a/b/o dynamics, weird biology, dub con, heavy kink, etc), and i've noted the ratings (explicit, mature, teen), but i have not noted top/bottom (this list contains a pretty even split of both) and i haven’t indicated which are WIPs - take a chance! i've left little paragraphs as to why i liked the fic but i tried to keep spoilers out of them so the story can be a surprise :D

remember to leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed the fic :D

Igneous - zimriya Notes: Explicit, A/B/O dynamics, canon compliant, series!

Trying to find this fic so I could reread it was the thing that prompted me to make this list. That’s how amazing this fic is. It tears out your heart strings. It hurts. I love it. It’s soft. It makes me cry. I am never going to recover from this perfect retelling of canon. This hurts just as much as the kenobi show. I owe this author a medical bill and a thank you card. I don’t care if a/b/o isn’t your thing or omega obi-wan isn’t your thing i need you to try reading this fic i really do because it’s just honestly superb and beautiful prose and i think about some of these lines near daily. Ok, fine. Daily.

I’d Never Be Me (Without The Support of Your Loving Arms) by euryrice Notes: Explicit

i don’t think i’ll ever stop talking or thinking about this fic, it’s up there for me….such a good take on a bond/spy au that I don’t think I’ll ever seriously try at one myself because it’d never be ‘i’d never be me without the support of your loving arms’; it’s just so well thought through. Canon lovingly applied. Kit beautifully moved and hungry for a second part of the series, even though it doesn’t even need a second part and is perfect as a stand alone. Witty banter rating: 10/10

Hooked On You by @whohatessand Notes: Explicit, infidelity, side anidala (padmé is being cheated on)

Dirty bad wrong never felt so good though; Anakin is cheating on his wife with her campaign manager. Anakin is very not satisfied with being a trophy husband, and honestly it’s so valid of him. This is so well-written that Anakin’s frustration with his life, his wife, his duties all feels very real and understandable. Does that excuse the cheating and the spit-as-lube fucking at a donor ball? Nah, but they know it doesn’t. And it ends on a very hopeful obikin note, which is my favorite

The Final Frontier of Pleasure by @jedibongrip Notes: Explicit, bp!Anakin, virginity kink (ish?)

“Just the tip” made into a very hot 2k fic wherein anakin’s definitely not a virgin anymore, but obi-wan’s gonna go along with it if it makes him happy (and means that he gets to keep touching him, god bless); note to say that all of this author’s stuff is very good!

Stars To Fill My Dreams by hidden_humours Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan, dark Anakin

Anakin is teetering on going off the walls insane in this fic and I am so here for it. This is just amazing. I love a padawan obi-wan and I especially love this time-travel with a twist (which I won’t spoil!); the summary even says “yeah this anakin isn’t all there” and the author is right!!! 100%!! I love it. I want to poke this Anakin with a stick. I want to push him off his metaphorical cliff of sanity. I want to push Obi-Wan off a cliff just to see what this Anakin would do. What a fic. What a goddamn fic.

Obi-Two by @virahaus Notes: Explicit, Obi-Wan/Anakin/Obi-Wan

Guys, holy shit I am so excited for this WIP you have no idea. Everything about it is delicious so far. The Obi-Wan that gets zapped back in time just before ROTS/Order 66 is living to see twunk Anakin again and he is so soft yet so commanding about it. Ben!Obi-Wan literally kills me in this fic. If there’s never another chapter, I’m begging you to read this anyway, it’s that good.

Vast as the sea, constant as the tide by @moonlightatnoon Notes: Explicit, pirate!anakin, captain!Obi-Wan

So maybe Kit’s attention was captured and held by the sea-themed title…she’s a simple lady. But this fic is absolutely beautiful. I love the intrigue, the history, the pining of it all. My attention, much like Obi-Wan, was gently captured and held hostage by pirate Anakin and the way he’s like ‘my obi-wan <3 mine <3’ while also being a whole ass pathetic lil mew mew of a pirate. He is so possessive and fearsome and clingy and needy I love this Anakin and how much he needs his Obi-Wan. I love the ending especially! Beautifully done.

Buns of Steel by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, humor, himbos the both of them

Put this under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love the humor here (Rag has such a legendary way with a great turn of phrase and pacing of jokes that just makes the fic fly by) and the ridiculousness of it all. Obi-Wan here is extremely lovably bitchy and I adore it. His dialogue is quite polite, but this is a fic where the narration really makes the characterization pop. Also the amount of lusting after his beautiful aerobics instructor that Obi-Wan does…and how UNFAIR he finds Anakin’s beauty. Just amazing. Cheering for Obi-Wan living his best life and getting the hot aerobics instructor in the end.

My Thoughts I Confess (Verge On Dirty) by @artemisthehuntress Notes: Explicit, horny, horny, horny Obi-Wan

This is, of course, the other fic filed under Fics That Make Kit Want To Join A Gym. I love Anakin in booty shorts. I love Obi-Wan, head empty and no thoughts because his dick is too goddamn hard to see straight. One should not be exercising under such conditions. The humor here is impeccable. Love all of Obi-Wan’s fantasies with the hot guy working out next to him. If you’re a fan of horny-grip Obi-Wan, this is the fic for you! If you’re not as into horny-grip Obi-Wan, I’d say this fic is still worth the read because it’s just written so well.

just like the days we’d burn by @travellingcircus Notes: Explicit, PTSD mentions, heavy

I was always going to rec one of travellingcircus’ fics of course. They are a fantastic writer and I love their fics - especially the long oneshots that consume my entire night when I see that one’s been posted and I get to delve into a new side of obikin I could never imagine. This fic is one of my favorites by them – and maybe one of my favorite modern aus all together. Anakin has a racing career until he has an accident. Then he goes back to his small town and decides to have Obi-Wan instead because first love (I love first love fics especially in modern aus)!! Also Obi-Wan has a motorbike. This is excellent news. He also has helmet hair. I love Anakin in this fic so much. He’s crazy. He’s wounded. He’s obsessed. He’s in love. He’s desperate. And Anakin makes Obi-Wan all these things too. Such a good modern au for these characters. They feel so close to their canon characters, it’s marvelous.

Where Every Mask Cracks by skyl_tales Notes: Explicit, a spin-off of one of their other fics, but can be standalone

Skyl_tales’ fics for me are the very definition of fandom classic. They were the first fics I read and I continue to reread them roughly maybe once every year at least. They’re just all very readable. The writing style is something I have always loved and envied – their fics are approachable and entertaining, no matter how much you know or don’t know about Star War at the time of your reading. Tbh I think this is the fic author who has influenced my writing the most! I love this fic in particular because I do have a soft spot for vaderwan. Old Ben being delightfully torn up over Vader and Vader being delightfully unhinged about his former master…..with a magical fix-it device that restores both of them to their younger, strongest selves (if only to make the fucking easier and the horny insatiable)

Gay Chicken by zimriya Notes: Explicit, enemies to lovers, light daddy kink

Where to begin with this fic!!! I guess I cannot stress enough how much I love humor in fics when done right and this is done so well. Like it is literally so funny and so normal. There is something so beautiful about putting these space monk superheroes into like. Just situations. This fic is about laundry. But also upstairs neighbors. But also lost loves??? I’m always a bit hesitant for fics with a lot of notes/messages, because I can find that hard to read, but this was very, very easy to read, both format-wise and flow of the story wise. I love them both being assholes to each other. Love them slowly becoming friends through notes under the monikers “501” and “212”. LOVE the twist.

wildest dreams by kidhuzural Notes: Explicit, 5+1 fic

Basically: Baby Anakin wants to get married to Obi-Wan. Teenager padawan Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Clone Wars Anakin wants to marry Obi-Wan. Obi-Wan wants to marry Clone Wars Anakin. I love love love fics that start out with baby padawan Anakin and have him grow up. It places so much emphasis on their master&padawan relationship and how important they were to each other before AOTC or TCW, which I think is the strongest basis for obikin. Also this Anakin is just so cute and Obi-Wan cares for his baby padawan so much!! All in all, this fic is just so sweet. Obsessed.

In Pursuit of Cold Water by @jswander Notes: Mature, Merman!Anakin

Can I have a fic rec list that doesn’t include this fic?? I love this fic. I think I reread it like twenty times while waiting for the last chapter, and it was worth it and gripping and incredible each time. I am fascinated by writers who can worldbuild, and Jo worldbuilds so well in this mermaid AU. I love the descriptions of their fins; the possessiveness, the hurt, the anger, the jadeness, and the naivete of Anakin somehow all existing in the same character and all being so justified. There’s some really heavy moments and also really silly moments (they dress Anakin up as an old lady to avoid detection at one point). I love the development of their relationship and especially the growth of their mental bond. Such a good translation of their Force bond in canon (and such a clever work-around for a mermaid not speaking English!) Just an amazing fic. So good.

The Devil’s In The Details by @ragnarlothcat Notes: Explicit, demon Anakin, darker!Anakin (because of the demon bit)

Back at it again with my Rag-writing obsession! I’m loving this WIP and how evil and innocent Anakin is. Yeah, he’s a demon haunting Obi-Wan’s new house; yeah, he’s killed like. A ton of people. But he’s so pathetic. So very eager to please. So very attractive. As a reader, you’re like Obi-Wan’s friend, Quinlan, who discovers Obi-Wan sleeping with a literal demon, and you’re like ‘bestie, do you not know? That’s a literal demon?’ and obi-wan is like ‘he is quite polite and does so good on our walks around town’ and you’re like ‘you’re taking him on walks???’ but also you can’t help but root for demon Anakin and poor decision-maker Obi-Wan. Also, once again, I love Rag’s humor and timing of it. The narration Obi-Wan has is so colorful and so fucking funny, I snort all the time. He’s such a bitch. He’s amazing.

By Omission by @posthumousvigor Notes: Explicit, reverse master/padawan au, drunk sex

This writer is very quickly becoming one of my favorites. I love their prose and the way they write Obi-Wan—especially padawan!Obi-Wan with Master Anakin. One of my favorite dynamics for obikin aus, and this writer gives me so much good food. TBH one of my all-time favorite cliches/tropes is one of them getting dressed up out of their Jedi robes to be put in Situations, and I especially love this for Obi-Wan cause Anakin got a whole movie of dressing up for funsies, and this fic delivers. Master Skywalker comes back early from a mission to find his padawan slutting it up in the Lower Levels, and what is a man to do other than snap?? And he snaps so beautifully in this fic. I love it when they’re horny beyond reason for each other.

how to stay by answersinahauntedclub Notes: Explicit, professor/student relationship

I know logically that this fic probably will not update again, but it is so beautiful and I think about it all the time. It is like. The peak of college/university aus in this fandom. Bold statement, I know, but I love this fic and characterization so much that I am stating it. They’re both disasters. They can’t resist each other even if they really, really should. It’s an incredible read and I am fascinated by both this Obi-Wan and this Anakin. Cannot stress enough the lovable disasters that they are. In writing this, I took an hour break and reread it again.

we’re swimming with the sharks (until we drown) by @obiwaned Notes: Teen, fake/pretend relationship

Getting this update notification felt like such a sweet sweet win for me. I loved the premise as soon as I read it and it just keeps getting better. Fake marriage for any reason is always amazing. I also LOVE non-linear timelines and this writer does it so well because you as the reader don’t get lost and confused trying to keep the timeline straight. It’s delectable, it’s straightforward, it’s so easy to devour, and I am obsessed with this fic and even the possibility of more.

Self-Insert by ZenyZootSuit Notes: Teen, crack

God this is so funny in a very crack way. Short and funny and perfect. Darth Vader writes self-insert fanfiction about being with Obi-Wan Kenobi, and Darth Sidious finds out. Imperial secrets are leaked, but I’m sure those were important details he needed to include!! For context! Realism! Absolutely perfect; no notes.

Open Circle by Calyss Note: Explicit, Dark Obi-Wan, dom/sub (under)tones, seduction to the Dark side

This is also one of my annual rereads, and one of my absolute favorite Sith Obi-Wans in the fandom. I love how out of control this sith Obi-Wan is, how very obsessed with just Anakin he is. Sith Obi-Wan really said “he’s mine” and he’s gonna destroy Anakin’s marriage and the whole galaxy to prove it. And also Anakin is not going to say no or resist much at all because that’s his master and he loves him and has weird feelings for him he has not really examined. This is also such an id fic of mine. But no regrets putting it on the list. When I saw it updated in October 2022, I literally cleaned my room and improved my life before I sat down to read it.

How to Save a Galactic Republic Without Really Trying by @sharpest-tongue Notes: Mature, Post Kenobi show

So many amazing fics came out of the Kenobi show but this absolutely has to be one of my favorites. There’s humor, there’s touching moments, there’s Star Wars lingo I didn’t know but that made the whole thing feel very much in-universe (and that I have now incorporated into my Star Wars Wikipedia slash Dictionary for later use, even if it’s all made up). I love a time travel fic, has to be said, and this one delivers perfectly. The Jedi as family in this fic really made me emotional. Extra special shout out to Obi-Wan, raising his padawan again in a do-over, and thinking, ‘i was not this bad as a teenager wtf?? Yeah ok whatever i MAY have fought in TWO WARS at that age but still!!!’ love him. Love his obvious blind spots for anakin and also for himself. Such a good fic!!!

broken bones, thunder drums by @maragny Notes: Teen, hurt/comfort

There is so much to love about this fic and I love it all. Clone War fics are like my bread and butter in this fandom. I love obikin fics that take place in the middle of battle where the reader is confronted with the reality of either Anakin or Obi-Wan fighting – and this fic really starts by throwing you into the action in such a visceral, effective way that I was stressed! I was gripped! It makes Anakin hiding his injury feel not only understandable but also like the only option. Good think Obi-Wan is there to save the day and help Anakin through his pain because he is overprotective and in love with him. Also the first chapter is told from Rex’s point of view, which just. One of my favorite outsider POVs for obikin is Rex.

no news is good news by @rhymenoceros Notes: Mature, crack, relationship reveal, breaking news/news cycle format

This fic is so funny! The tone is perfect for what the writer sets out to do — that is, make the reader feel like they’re caught up in a social media news cycle! There’s talk shows, there’s paparazzi, there’s space reddit, there’s leaked Jedi text conversations….the Jedi screen names are hilarious and easy to tell who is who while still staying true to the joke. Cannot recommend this fic enough. Cute, funny, horny, and with that sweet sweet Palpatine downfall that the best cracky fics always have.

Falling Deep Into You by @dark--whisperings Notes: Explicit, dom/sub tones, so much pining

Any fic that has the tag “Obi-Wan Kenobi is a freak in bed” has my attention and my interest. This writer describes Anakin subbing and Obi-Wan domming so very beautifully that it’s almost a manifesto in 8k. Lots of good sex here, but I really love the opening scene and the push and pull the writer’s given the characters. They want each other so much—Obi-Wan wants so much, but alas! Religious guilt on par with catholicism! Of course the nasty freaky sex fiend in Obi-Wan wins out over the Jedi Master, but I really enjoyed the guilt and the way he gives in and goes to find Anakin because of course he does. And then the ending! A resetting of the chess board so that the game can start over tomorrow. A great fic all in all!

you took my love so tenderly by @billboguspreston & @acrylicsalts-inspo Notes: Explicit, prince/guard dynamic, exhibitionism

I started reading this fic when it was first posted, and I followed it attentively and with baited breath. I love the reverse age dynamic (I know, it’s not for everyone, but I lovelovelove it), and I love that this Obi-Wan is such a spitfire. He knows what he wants and that’s for his silent, restrained, older, handsome bodyguard to snap and fuck him and he WILL brat his way into getting what he wants as is his right. Anakin being both incredibly horny (Anakin horny-gripping the pommel of his sword because Obi-Wan has decided to get off right in front of him to see if he can tempt him into fucking him) is amazing. Obi-Wan being both the aggressor and also the inexperienced one is chef’s fucking kiss and a dynamic I do not see often enough. So worth the read. And there may be more sequels??? Be still my beating heart!

I Wanna Be Owned by @kyberkenobi Notes: Explicit, 5+1 things, light BDSM

Speaking of horny grip lol, I had to think for a bit about which fic from this writer to choose because all of them are very good and very very smutty with all sorts of kinks and dynamics. The writer you go to for mean dom Obi-Wan and if you’re feeling up for discovering a kink you weren’t sure you were into before. There’s plenty of amazing fics on her ao3 (I was also immediately obsessed with the recent alpha/alpha one), but this fic is one of my favorites. I love the style of a 5+1 for a fic, and I am obsessed with casual slut (affectionate) Obi-Wan and Anakin’s blinders of his master slowly being pulled away until he HAS to confront the reason Obi-Wan can untie and hogtie a criminal they caught so damn quickly. It’s indecent. It’s amazing.

Our Man From Tatooine by kazmir Notes: Explicit, a/b/o dynamics, intersex omegas

This story is such a good, quick, enthralling read. I really can’t say much without spoiling it, but it’s worth the read. Dark Obikin, twists and turns, roleplaying, horny mates being unable to resist the other’s draw….so good….One of those fics I paused to reread while reccing it lol

Acts of Contrition by @marycontraire Notes: A series, ranging from Gen - Explicit

Cheating a little bit to rec you all a series instead because I just reread this fic series and fell in love with it all over again. Literally a fandom classic for me. The world building is amazing, the realism and research really pays off because it creates such a rich world for people to dive into. The Tatooine culture is so rich and interesting, and I love this Anakin especially. It’s a very realistic take on if Anakin had been expelled from the Order for the Tusken massacre. This Anakin is darker and clingier and Obi-Wan is trying to keep himself level and sane and something Anakin can cling to while still being a Jedi in all but name. Every installment of this series is gold and worth reading as quickly as possible just to have this in your mind faster. Also worth a slow read to savor it because unfortunately, you can only read a fic series like this for the first time once.

You can call me baby (you can call me love) by @lilredghost Notes: Explicit, 5 + 1

This fic is so sweet that I honestly forgot it was explicit - even though, yes, it opens with a sex scene lmao! But I love this writer’s explicit fics so much (their ao3 is worth a browse) that I am not disappointed in it being explicit, no sir. Obi-Wan gets upset when Anakin calls him an old man repeatedly and I’ve read this fic so much that when I see repeated use of “old man” in other fics I’m like “! no! His feelings!!!” this fic ALSO has anakin calling obi-wan baby <3 so good so sweet so perfect.

take my hand through the flames by @atornpage Notes: Explicit, vaderwan, seduction to the Dark Side

Oh this may just be the WIP I am most excited to see updated! It’s such a clever and unique concept that I’m on the edge of my seat to see where the writer takes the story next. There are not enough stories where a character falls into a coma and time passes around them, and this is so perfect. I adore fics where baby Anakin is clingy and obsessed with Obi-Wan and everyone around them is like ‘this is not REALLY the Jedi way, guys’, and this fic has SO much of that. I can’t wait to see all the promises of the tags come to fruition and am massively enjoying the ride to get there!

Heal Me, My Darling by @wasureneba Notes: Explicit, sick fic, idiots in love

Who doesn’t love a sick fic?? The tender healing…the care…the rotten work…not to me, not if it’s you, etc etc…this fic is such a good sick fic too, I was here for the entire thing! Anakin is in top whiny form and Obi-Wan is cuddling him left and right! I also love Anakin having a praise kink in this fic – it made me soft and so receptive to the idea again when I was getting tired of seeing it as a default in a ton of fics. But this fic said “Obi-Wan tells Anakin he’s doing good while touching his ass to administer a very important for plot reasons shot and Anakin bursts into flames” and I said “absolutely and understandable, please tell me what happens next.” This is like a perfect sick fic for me. The right balance of sweet and horny. Caring Obi-Wan and whiny because he’s bored! Anakin. God-tier combination.

Νόστος by NFx Notes: Explicit, stockholm syndrome typical of hades & persephone aus

I am always here for a good Hades&Persephone AU and I feel like this is a great one! I especially love AUs that carefully place Star Wars GFFA characters into an established world (like Greek mythology in this case), and take care to match up the side characters of the GFFA with the AU characters they’re being transposed on. I like the pace and narration of this one too, the way the tone feels both readable and still old — the dialogue and narration don’t read like a BBC documentary set in Ancient Greece where everyone just sort of speaks like they’re in a Shakespeare play for some reason, but it’s still sorta oldish/stiffer dialogue that really keeps you in the fic universe without alienating readers. Also, horny. But dark horny. Love a darker Anakin.

Hunting the Homeward Light by GreenQueenofClubs Notes: Teen

One of my all-time favorites, I think, and if you haven't read it or haven't reread it recently, you need to! There's so much tension build up and detail put in with such an amazing pay off that I could literally read this fic every month and probably find something new to enjoy all over again. I don't even have strong opinions about mace training anakin, but this fic convinced me it could work and work really well. also poor poor obi-wan </3 his emotional support padawan goes missing </3 but then is found :) as a twunk :)

#asks #obikin #obikin fic recs #me: im gonna focus and write my fic #also me: jk here is 4k of fic recs #i hope you enjoy!! i actually spent like 2 nights on this lol #combing through my history #tried to also spotlight some writers i like a lot but dont really see recc'ed #also psa if you have a tumblr pls link it to it on your ao3 #for kit #my notes are so silly i am sorry #i don't have kit's opinion corner often #so i shoved all my opinions into 4k of nonsense fic review #me: i hope peoplee like my fic list :)#also me: posts at the weirdest times where most people are not online :)

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queen-haq · 3 months

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Fic: Grudgingly Yours, Part 12

Grudgingly Yours, Part 12

Summary: You are a general surgeon, working in a hospital that’s slowly sucking the life out of you when one day you’re given the offer of a lifetime.

A.K.A - An arranged marriage fic :)

Pairing: Billy Russo x You

Rating: R

Masterlist (contains links to my other stories and this one)

Chapter 12

You were seething with anger. So frustrated, you wanted to scream with rage. How dare Billy do this? How dare he fucking threaten you? And on top of that, he hurt Calvin – did he really think that would score him points? Was he really that stupid?

“Stop dragging your feet.” Billy ordered from the other side of the room, packing your clothes into your suitcase. The entitlement in his voice was so infuriating, you picked up the closest pillow to you and threw it at him. As soon as it struck his back, he turned around. For a second he simply stared at you, and fear trickled down your spine. This was a man who kidnapped your friend and tortured him. He had you cuffed and bound a few minutes earlier. As much as you prided yourself in being strong and resourceful, he was an actual soldier, a psychopath and rich. He could kill you in a fit of rage and suffer no consequences.

Then he smirked, his handsome face breaking into a magnetic smile while he retrieved the pillow from the ground. “If it’s a fight you’re looking for, I’ll give you one when we get home.”

His friendly demeanor did nothing to alleviate your anxiety.

Throwing the pillow back onto the bed, he turned around and continued to pack your things.

Half an hour later all of your stuff was packed into a suitcase which Billy was carrying to the elevator. “Rest of your things?” he prodded.

“Storage.”

“We can get it tomorrow.”

You didn’t respond.

The elevator ride felt distinctly uncomfortable, with Billy’s eyes on you the entire time. His gaze felt intrusive, like he was trying to crack through your brain and see every running thought inside your head. You tried ignoring him but it seemed to make no difference.

When you both reached the underground parking lot, you headed towards your car. “I’ll meet you there.”

“Nice try.” He gripped your elbow, maneuvering your body towards the guest parking spots. Once he reached the Wraith, he opened the trunk and stuffed your things inside before pulling open the passenger side door open. “Get in.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “I need my car.”

“We can pick it up tomorrow.”

The bastard had an answer for everything. Fuck him. Angrily you slid inside, wishing you could at least have the satisfaction of slamming his door shut. He closed the door and circled the car to get in. Defiantly you opened the door on your side and slammed it hard.

“Feel better?” he asked, sliding in next to you.

“Fuck off.”

There was his smirk again, goading you, but you chose to ignore it.

This was the first time you were in his car, sitting beside him while he drove. He was a smooth driver, expertly gliding his way through traffic like he did everything else. Prick.

“Where’s Calvin?” you asked.

“He’s fine.”

“You need to let him go.”

“I will,” he replied, nonchalant. “As soon as you keep your end of the deal.”

“I’m already moving back in. What else do you want?”

“A guarantee that you won’t bolt.”

“You’re the one who runs, not me,” you retaliated.

“I’m here now.”

You scoffed, shaking your head at his audacity.

“So are you gonna co-operate?”

“I don’t have a choice, do I?”

“There’s always a choice. You’re smart enough to make the right one.”

“I wish I killed you before.” You expected him to snark back or maybe ignore your hostile words. Instead he smiled, a tender, affectionate smile that made your heart skip a beat because it caught you completely unaware.

“You’ll get lots more chances now. Promise.”

Your eyes locked with his, and for a second the world stopped. You forgot how exhilarating his attention could be, making you feel like you were the only person in the world who mattered to him. You were special, you were important, and just as quickly, he would turn on you and throw you aside. Irritated with yourself, you glanced out the window.

Minutes passed before he spoke again. “He’s a decent scammer. Not great, but good enough to fool a lot of people.”

You scowled. “What are you talking about?”

“Your buddy, Calvin. He’s ripped off a lot of people with some kind of Ponzi scheme.”

You recalled the portfolio Calvin shared with you, how the returns on investments seemed too good to be true. Fuck. Even though there was nothing to arouse your suspicions at the time, a part of you had known something was wrong. But there was no way you were going to admit that to Billy. “Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

“I had someone look into him.”

“And I’m supposed to believe you?”

“Want to see what the investigator dug up?”

“Not interested.”

He cocked his eyebrow at you. “Scared to find out the truth about fuckboy?”

“Don’t act like you were punishing him for being a swindler.”

The car came to a stop at a red light, he turned towards you. “I don’t give a fuck about that. He is where he is because he touched you. He. Touched. You. After I warned him not to. And he will pay for that. How much depends on you.”

“Don’t you dare! I’m not responsible for this, you are! You’re the fucking psychopath. You don’t get to put this on me.”

Swallowing the angry lump in your throat, you stared straight ahead. But he didn’t. You felt his eyes digging into you until a car honked from behind. That seemed to snap Billy out of his daze and he started driving again.

The rest of the ride was spent in silence, with you contemplating Billy’s murder.

***

It was strange to be back in the penthouse that had been your home for a short time. Everything looked the same yet it all felt different. Tainted. You knew you’d have to return eventually because Alistair was an asshole and would make you, but you purposely avoided thinking about living with Billy again. A part of you had hoped he’d avoid you after humiliating the way he had, but you should’ve known that wouldn’t be his way. He liked playing with your emotions, softening you up before going in for the kill, and tonight was the beginning of the same cycle. All the bullshit he spewed was intended to make you feel something for him again but he’d made a big mistake in underestimating you. Because you felt nothing for him anymore. Nothing. And that wasn’t going to change, no matter how much he tried to manipulate you or threaten you with Calvin.

The lights turned on automatically as you entered your bedroom. Anita must have cleaned it after you left, because it was perfectly pristine. As Billy brushed past you carrying your luggage, your body stiffened. Everything about him felt obtrusive and too close. He was back in your life, in your head, in your room, and now in your things as he started to unpack your luggage.

“Stop touching my stuff,” you snapped, grabbing the skirts he was holding in his hand.

“I’m trying to help.”

“I don’t need your fucking help.” You stormed over to the walk-in closet and started hanging the clothes up.

“Fine. Then I’ll go make dinner.”

“Hope you choke on it and die.”

That elicited a full-fledged chuckle from him, which agitated you more. At least you’d get some satisfaction from pissing him off but he seemed determined not to be provoked. Jackass. Over the next hour while you put away your things, your brain spun with anxiety. You didn’t do well with uncertainty. You were a problem solver and that’s how you got through life. Anticipate. Plan. Execute. Except there was no way for you to anticipate the curveball Billy threw at you. You were prepared for Alistair, but not Billy. And now you had to find a way out of this situation. Not to mention rescue Calvin too. Fuck. You needed to know details, exactly what Billy had planned and then find a way to get through it.

“Dinner’s ready.”

Hearing his voice calling from the kitchen, you made your way to the ensuite bathroom. You took your time in freshening up, washing all the make-up from your face. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, once again pondering Billy’s sick mind. Did he really expect you to play along? Was he so used to women being doormats that he honestly thought you would just roll over and give into him? It was obvious he had no idea who you were. And all signs pointed to him being exactly like his grandfather, a rich, entitled bigot who got off on controlling you. Well, fuck that.

After changing into an extra baggy lounge set that did a remarkable job of making you look dowdy, you sauntered over to the kitchen. What you found there was a complete surprise. The small table was adorned with fresh flowers, your favourite bottle of wine, and candle lights. He had also plated the pasta, which looked unbelievably good, and was already seated and waiting for you. What the fuck? Did he think the two of you were going to have a romantic meal together?

“Seriously?” Your eyes narrowed onto him, shaking your head. “This isn’t a fucking date.”

He looked unmoved by your lack of enthusiasm. “Doesn’t mean we can’t eat.” He stood up to pull your chair back. “Sit.”

“Are you asking me or ordering me?”

He cocked his eyebrow. “Does it matter?”

“You’re unfucking believable.” Refusing to give into him, you walked to the table but ignored the seat he held out for you. Instead, you took another empty seat.

He smiled, and started pouring you a glass of wine. When he tried to hand it to you, you stared back at him defiantly. “Not in the mood.”

“It’s your favourite.”

“Not anymore. You’ve ruined it.”

He smirked. “Fine. More for me then.” Deliberately making a show of enjoying the wine, he held your gaze.

“Tell me what I have to do to get Calvin away from you.”

There was that dark glint in his eyes again, the one reminding you of who Billy truly was. “Let’s have dinner first.”

“I’m not eating with you.”

“If you want to save Calvin, you will.”

You shook your head. “That’s how it’s gonna be from now on, isn’t it? You think this is how you’ll control me. You’re exactly like Alistair.”

“I’m nothing like him.” Jaw clenched, eyes darkened with anger, he moved towards you. A part of you was glad for striking him where it hurt but you didn’t like the closing distance between you two. Especially when he sat next to you.

You didn’t like his proximity, the way his body was turned to you. You were the sole focus of his attention and it made you uncomfortable, reminding you of how easily he played you in the past.

“I don’t want to control you.”

The softness in his voice was a ruse, you reminded yourself.

“That’s not what this is about,” Billy continued.

“What is it gonna take for you to let him go?”

He paused a few seconds before answering. “This. I want this. Dinner. The two of us. Every night.”

“Why? What are you hoping to get out of it?”

“I just want to have dinner with you. That’s all.”

“But it won’t stop at dinner, will it?” You sent him a bitter smile. “How long before I have to fuck you?”

“You’re the one who keeps bringing up sex.” He smirked. “Do you want to fuck me?”

“Go to hell!” His eyes wandered over your face, like he was memorizing every inch of you – and it made your heart beat faster. Immediately you chastised yourself. “How long do I have to suffer these dinners with you?”

“Three months.”

You scoffed. “Are you fucking kidding me?”

He shrugged his shoulders. Throwing one arm around the back of your chair, he leaned in. “This is what I want. Three months. After that, I’ll let him go.”

“You’re gonna hold him hostage until then?”

“Don’t worry about him. He’s being looked after.”

“I’m supposed to take your word for that? How do I know you haven’t killed him already?”

“I haven’t. But if you want proof, I can show you.”

Your face twisted with disgust. “You’re getting off on this, aren’t you?”

He didn’t respond, still peering at you closely. When his fingers slowly smoothed over the loose strand of your hair, you steeled yourself to his touch. “That’s not why I’m doing this.” There was longing in his gaze, his voice hoarse with emotion.

It was incredible how convincing he could be but you saw him for what he was – a manipulator.

You touched his hand to brush him away but the instant you made physical contact; sparks flowed through your veins. You withdrew immediately. “Then tell me why.”

A heavy sigh escaped him, he finally leaned back against his chair and you breathed a sigh of relief. “I love you. And I want you to love me back.”

The sheer audacity of his response, how he casually stated his intention – it was so flabbergasting that you couldn’t help but laugh. You laughed and laughed, while he simply studied you with a serious expression on his face. And when you struggled to catch your breath from laughing so hard, he handed you the glass of wine from earlier. This time you took it, your throat parched, and swallowed most of it in a big gulp.

“Easy there.”

You put down the glass. “You’re unbelievable.”

“You wanted the truth.”

“Oh, I know.” You gave him a condescending smile. “So I fall in love with you in this pipe dream of yours, and then what? You dump me? Humiliate me again? This time in front of dear old Gramps and the whole family?” Your smile stiffened. “Is that the plan, Billy?”

His voice was sincere, regret looming over his face. “I’m sorry about what I said to you at the wedding.”

“Nothing you said or did was a surprise. It’s what I expected from you.” It wasn’t true, he shattered you that night and made you doubt yourself – but you would never admit that to him. You stood up, casting him a snide glance. “You want me to be your puppet? Fine. I will. Because you’re holding someone I care about hostage. But don’t think for a second I’ll buy your bullshit act. I know you. I see you.” You bent forward so that you were at his height, staring into his eyes directly. “And I’ll never love you.”

Grabbing the bottle of wine, you turned your back on him and sashayed back to your room.

A/N - Sorry about the long wait, lovely readers. With the holidays and me getting into another fandom, I was a little negligent towards GY. But I'm back now :) Hope you enjoyed the chapter. And, as always, comments are loved and cherished :)

#billy russo x reader #billy russo #ben barnes #the punisher #grudgingly yours

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auteurdelabre · 5 months

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Code Broken (4/5) SERIES dark!Joel x f!reader

Summary: After your last horrible interaction with Joel you run into him months later. Things don't go as expected.

Rating: 18+ (

Word Count: 3.2

Warnings: This is a very dark!Joel fic with lots of dubious consent. Yes, the f!reader gets into it eventually but I believe y'all can see how its dubious. Unprotected p in v sex, coming on v, semi-public sex, desk sex, rough sex.

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

Chapter 4: I will Survive

You barely make it through the night.

You've begun packing, throwing your clothes into a duffel before the sun cracks through the sky.

For the next two months you stay at Trish's. In her guest room that will soon become the babies room. It's decorated in blues and greens and feels peaceful.

You tell her that your home needs repairs. That you need somewhere to stay. Cliff is so kind to you, never making you feel like a burden.

"When do you think the repairs will be done?" Trish asks you one morning, sounding strained and you can tell your visit is rapidly becoming overstayed.

"Funny you mention that, because it's actually finished tomorrow," you chirp happily. "Just found out."

Despite the community's size you haven't run into Joel. You overheard rumors that he has left for a few months on some mission with Tommy, but you never care to check the veracity.

You don't care. You never want to see Joel Miller again.

///

It's April before you do.

He's returned after months away. He looks leaner, his hair longer, it curls at the back. You catch him leaving his house just as your walking up to yours.

You both lock eyes and go still. He blinks rapidly, his mouth parting slightly when all of a sudden you hear Tess call your name and you flinch.

She gives you a short wave which you return weakly before she walks up to Joel with a strained smile.

You dart into the house, feeling Joel's eyes on you the whole time.

////

When you have Trish over one night and she sees Joel walking into his house she tells you that Tess and Joel aren't together anymore.

"She's with some guy across town," Trish tells you as she strokes her swollen belly one night over at your place. "Has been for a while. Does patrols with him."

You realize it only took so long to notice because you willed yourself not to think about that house or its inhabitants.

"Makes more sense to me than grumpy ever did," Trish says with a wave towards his place.

You nod but Trish has adopted a frown and her eyeline is wet. Ever since she's been pregnant she's been more emotional.

"But now he's all alone again."

'"Maybe he deserves it," you answer tightly.

///

In early June there's an unexpected heat wave that has all sorts of insects popping up.

You talk with your coworkers and they tell you the horses will need blankets to keep them protected. Midges, one of the women tell you. Midges are horrible for those baby foals.

You're in charge of delivering them that warm afternoon, your hair sticking to your temples as you round the barn.

Markus is there tethering some of the horses. He smiles when he sees you arrive, waving and ushering you into the large office to cool down.

It’s nice in here, a large desk and window with chairs that smell like fresh pine. They must have been carved here because they are so ornate, so delicate to have been moved from place to place.

"I like your dress," Markus offers with a shy smile as he passes you the metal water bottle he carries everywhere. You take a grateful sip before pushing it back to him.

"Oh," you thank him, fingering the skirt of the dress with its warm butter yellow color and sweet hand embroidered daisies. You motion to the blankets in your arms.

"Just dropping these off before I head home."

"Perfect," Markus takes some of the pile from you gratefully. "The new babies are gonna love 'em. The midges are brutal this year."

"Happy to help."

Another figure strides into the building, shaking the bag his shoulder as he enters, speaking gruffly.

"Fucking hot out there. Gonna need extra water for the foals. And something to cover 'em with."

It's Joel Miller.

Of course it is.

"Good timing," Markus laughs in Joel's direction before motioning to you standing there with the blankets in your arms. "She just brought a bunch of blankets for them."

Joel stills as his focus moves to include you. He holds himself stiffly, trying not to draw attention to his sudden behavioral anomaly. You're hidden behind Markus, not wanting to be seen by Joel.

"Uh, Nightshade needs to be tied up," Joel finishes lamely, his words drifting off when he sees how close you are to Markus.

"Already done."

Joel glances at the bundle of blankets that are still in your arms then casts a sharp look at your face. You drag your eyes away, forcing them to Markus.

“Thanks for the water.”

Joel moves into the cramped office in the back of the building, his wide shoulders flexing under his t-shirt as he goes. You do your best not to follow his frame as it leaves.

"It's nice to talk to ya,' Markus says, turning back to face you. "Feels like it's been a while. Miss us all hangin' out."

You see Joel stopping at the door of the office, reaching to grab something on the wall. You try your best to ignore him.

Despite the fact that Markus and you aren't dating, you realize it must not look that way to Joel.

"Same here." You feel your pulse picking up a bit. "I'm happy the baby is here safe and healthy. Just not happy that it came so early we didn't have a proper send off party."

"There's always the wedding next month," Markus suggests. "You better save me a dance."

You can feel Joel's glare from here.

"Only if you don't mind being seen in public with the worst dancer in Jackson City," you laugh. Your voice is cheery and you're smiling warmly, but the chill of Joel's glare is going through you.

You make a move to leave, anxious to be away from him. But Markus taps you gently on the wrist, forcing your attention back.

"I wanted to know if you were around for a drink tonight." Markus says abruptly, his voice lowered so Joel can't hear.

He winds rope around his palm and bicep, looking to you expectantly. You're confused at the intensity in Markus' face.

"Should we invite -"

"Just you and me."

His reply surprises you. After the incident in your bedroom with Markus back in December you two haven't been alone together. Haven't spoken about it and that's suited you just fine.

You'd just thought about it as a onetime fling for the both of you. But judging by the way Markus' gaze is drifting down your body he's hoping for a repeat performance. And why not? You're both single, both attractive. Why shouldn't you give into those carnal desires?

"I thought maybe we could hang out at your place after," Markus says softly. "Only if you want."

You feel your cheeks pink at the confirmation. You can see Joel in your peripherals busying himself. You wonder how much he's heard and then decide you hope he's heard it all. Fuck him.

"Sure. I'd love to."

"Yeah?" Markus looks both relieved and excited. "Pick you up at eight?"

"Sounds great."

"Markus!" Joel barks sharply from inside his office. "Last time I checked animals die when they're dehydrated."

Markus ducks his head bashfully. "Sorry Joel! On it!"

You watch him give a pleased smile that rouges his cheeks as be begins filling up the water pails. Markus moves past you out into the stables, the door shutting behind him.

Then it's just you and Joel. He's in the office writing, you can hear the scratch of the old ballpoint. You consider just leaving but you hate how he just treated Markus. And if you don't stop it now, it'll just continue.

You march into his office with the bundle of blankets.

"Couldn't give them water yourself?"

"It's his job," Joel replies.

"You know what I mean." Your tone is cool and even. "Shouting at him like that? Ordering him around?"

"I wasn't. You must be reading into things. You're good at that." He lets the pen fall onto the desk at that. "You're not actually going out with him are you?"

"Why do you care?"

Any amusement in Joel's eyes is gone. "Gonna let him fuck you?"

You bite back a scathing comment and instead you throw the bundle of blankets you've been holding onto his desk. His notes go fluttering everywhere.

"Tell the group if you need more," you spit. "I'll get Mary to drop them off next time."

Joel's cheeks have gone red, his jaw ticking at her clenches his teeth. You knew messing up his desk would piss him off and you're pleased. But his eyes aren't hard, they're impossibly heated and they're trailing over your dress, exposed now that you've dropped the fabric onto his desk.

You can almost hear the sound of his brain buffering when he realizes what you're wearing.

The yellow sundress with embroidered daisies. And you’re taken back to months ago, standing outside the Tipsy Bison with Joel looking uncharacteristically earnest as he spoke.

“Do you remember what you were wearin’ that night?”

“No”

“Dress. Yellow with little flowers. You could see your tits through the fabric, hard nipples 'n all. You kept bumping into me, your skin all smooth. I couldn't stay there beside you the whole movie. Not when you looked like that. Not when all I could think about was fucking you.”

You don't have enough time to react. He rises up from behind his desk, stalking in your direction before he kicks the door behind you closed.

"Joel what-"

He large hands go to your shoulders and he brings down the straps of your dress harshly, tugging the top down and freeing your naked breasts to the air. You gasp.

"I was mad at myself for wantin' you so bad. Wanted to punish you for makin’ me want you.”

Your nipples crinkle under his tongue, his hands cupping your breasts, kneading them between licks and sucks to those straining nubs.

Anything you were about to say is erased. Gone from your mind and replaced with the sensation of Joel's mouth on you. He sucks, tongue laving at you as shots of electricity pull through your body, tugging at your navel.

Your hand is at the back of his neck, tangled in his curls, urging him to take more. To suck and taste and lick. You tilt your head back, exposing the column of your throat.

But then he stretches and takes you by the elbow, whirling you around to face away from him. With a sharp movement he clears his desk completely, sending blankets and paper and pens sailing to the ground before bending you over it.

He bunches your dress up to your hips before tugging down your panties.

"You're fucking cruel," Joel grunts and you can hear him fumbling with his belt buckle and zipper. You know he's not going to be patient when you feel his cock being slotted against the seam of your cunt.

"You knew what you were doing," he grunts as he thrusts up into you causing your body to jolt. "You knew the minute you put on that dress."

You moan by way of reply because right now he feels so fucking good. He's got one hand braced between your shoulder blades, holding you down and propping your ass at an angle so you can best take his cock through your swollen and dripping folds.

He feels so right between your thighs and you never want him to stop. You don't care that he's a bastard. You want him, you need him.

"Tried to make me feel bad all those months," Joel is mumbling through hisses of pleasure. "Acted like you didn't want me."

"I didn’t"

"Well she did," Joel growls, sliding his fingers over your clit. Tingles shoot their way through your entire body.

You moan at the desire clouding his voice like smoke. You’re nodding, gasping "Yes" over and over like a prayer.

"You let me taste paradise and took it away," Joel growls as he fucks you. "Ignored me. Let me believe you didn't want me."

"I don't want you," you gasp, your cheek biting into the wood of the table.

“Yeah you do," Joel says as he licks his lips. "Otherwise you wouldn't be here letting me fuck you on my desk with a pussy so wet she's already left a puddle."

"I'm not --"

"If you hated this you wouldn't be tryin' to keep quiet so your little boyfriend doesn't hear me fucking you."

"Not my b-boyfriend," you argue without power behind your words. You don't care about Markus. All you care about is coming on Joel's cock.

"Good ,"Joel rasps, pulling at your hair and causing you to arch back off the table. "Cuz he hasn't been fucking you right. Maybe he needs some lessons on satisfying you because I know how much you love taking cock."

You're trying to formulate a reply but you're boneless, your body jolting with every thrust. He feels so good, his fingers working your clit as he slams into you. He's nudging your feet apart with his boots so he can fuck you deeper.

"Or maybe I'll just get you to make deliveries here every week," Joel grunts into your ear, his hips slapping into your ass loudly. "Then I'll make you suck my cock under my desk while I have a meeting with your boyfriend. How does that sound?"

You're moaning at the thought of it. You hate that this taboo acknowledgement is turning you on so much.

"You like that?" Joel is pounding you harder now, his movements severe. His hips snack against your bare ass as you take his cock deeper. The desk jumps a little with each thrust.

"You like the idea of bein' fucked in secret, pretty eyes? My dirty little secret?"

The pleasure of his words and his cock is rolling you over the edge. He feels so perfectly there filling you so wonderfully. He’s jerked you back to him, his tongue licking at the pulse of your neck.

"You locked your window," Joel rasps, nipping your chin. "Why’d you keep it locked?"

"I was mad at you," you answer through grunts.

"Liar," Joel hisses at you, his cock thrusting in and out, grazing your clit. He forces you back over the desk, bending and accommodating his girth as his hips shifts against the meat of your ass. "Tell the truth."

"I was . .. scared."

"Of what."

"Of you."

A swift palm comes to strike your ass cheek. Not hard, not painful, but surprising.

"Truth," is all he says before his palm rubs over where he slapped. He's pulling you back against his cock, fucking you still.

"I was afraid Tess-"

Another smack to your ass. "Try again."

"People breaking in -"

Another smack. And another one when you try another lie.

"Cuz if I left it unlocked I knew you were gonna use it," you finally admit, your face flushed and your eyes wet. "And I wasn't gonna be able to say no."

"There we go," Joel soothes, rubbing his palm along your flanks. His thumb comes to your chin, tilting your head back so your eyes are on him. "You want me to use it, don't you?"

"No," you lie, your hips moving in tandem with his. You're close, so close to that bliss..

"Fucking liar," Joel growls lowly.

Then he pulls from you viciously and you cry out, immediately missing the sensation. He whirls you around to face him before shoving you up onto the desk. He steps between your parted thighs with your legs on either side of his hips and his cock is slipping into you again. You hold his shoulders, bouncing against him and biting your lip to keep from moaning.

"You walk around in this fucking dress, throwing yourself anyone but me?" Joel is panting as he glares down at you, his thumb circling the pearl of your clit as you arch against him. "I already told you this cunt is mine. No one fucks it but me."

"Not yours-" you're slurring.

"She's mine, baby" Joel assures you, pulling out savagely and then realigning himself up at you entrance. "Just look how she takes me."

You hate yourself for looking, but you do. You look down the length of your body and watch as Joel's beautiful cock slides into you. Its wet and thick and so fucking gorgeous. But it's Joel's eyes, his big beautiful blackened eyes half-lidded and smirking down at you that has you squirming with pleasure.

"Joel," you whimper. "Feels..."

"Feels good, doesn't it?"

His voice so soft and smooth. You nod, your body jerking with every deep thrust.

"Cuz this cunt is mine, isn't she, pretty eyes?"

You nod again.

"You gonna let that boy touch my cunt?"

You shake your head.

"Gonna let him fuck your mouth?"

Another shake of your head.

"Use your words."

"Only you."

He smiles serenely at you, his hips shifting and circling. He extends this pleasure, watching your face as you groan out his name, your eyes rolling into the back of your head.

"Atta girl," Joel coos.

Your body is tingling as your orgasm hits through you like a warm bath, spreading through every part of your body, making you tremble and whimper, making a mess where the two of you remained joined, Joel’s cock still.

"Oh yes, baby," Joel croons as he watches you spasm on his cock. "Feels so good doesn't it? I always know how to make you feel good."

When you come down he pulls himself out with a long grunt and begins to stroke himself in earnest.

"Where do you want it?"

Still panting you look up at Joel with a dazed smile. He watches you lean back until you're laying with your spine flush on the desk. You spread your legs for him there, putting yourself on full display for him.

He makes a low groaning noise, murmuring about her can't wait to taste you again as you're sliding your palm down your abdomen, your second and middle finger coming to part the glistening lips of your pussy to him. You look up at him through your lashes, smiling.

"There?" Joel chokes out, his eyes fixed on the delicious sight of your soaking cunt exposed lascivious for him.

"Yeah," you say with a sigh, tilting back. "Right there."

"F-fuck-k," he chokes out, his eyes fixed between your legs. "She wants my come."

"She does," you whimper, parting your thighs further.

Joel's hand is a blur, pumping and circling.

"Mark my pussy with your come, Joel." You beg, your hands pressing your thighs open to the desk. "She's yours."

He gives out a garbled grunt as he comes, thick ropes hitting your thighs and cunt, decorating you with his spend as you murmur your desire for more and more.

He's panting above you, one hand still braced on the desk. He watches you laying there looking up at the ceiling with a small smile on your face.

With one of the blankets he cleans you up the best he can, tucking himself away and then he grins, reaching for you and pulling you to sit atop the desk. He's still in the vee of your legs but he brings your dress down, covering you.

You look at him questioningly. This is usually the part where he leaves. The silence. Instead his eyes are warm and one of his hands comes to cup your cheek.

"So perfect," he says moving his face towards yours. You know he's about to kiss you and you tilt away from him. You two don’t kiss. Not really. He looks irritated until he sees the tears gathered along your lash line.

Joel's other hand goes to cup your other cheek and he gently cranes your face towards his.

“What’s the matter?”

“I’m horrible,” you whisper, sniffling.

"How are you horrible?"

"Because I don't do things like this," you explain through sniffling. "I don't have sex with perfectly nice guys in windows so other guys can jerk off to it. I don't let strangers fuck my mouth and come on me and then have them go down on me and act don't care if I see them again. I don’t hate someone and then let them fuck me like this. I don't fuck men in relationships."

"I'm not with-"

"But you were and we did."

"It was my fuck up," Joel tells you in a rumble. "Not yours. You went along with it but I never shoulda done it. Not when I was with Tess, not when I knew how I felt about y-"

He stops abruptly seeing that you’re shaking your head, tears beginning in earnest.

"Pretty eyes don't cry, please."

It's the first time he's used the nickname outside of a sexual activity between the two of you and it startles you to staring up at him.

"Please," he all but whispers. He's so close you could count the freckles along his lean neck.

"Stop," you insist, wrenching from him.

Joel stumbles back as you push him from you. You throw yourself from the table and stride from the room out into the barn, slamming the door before he can say another word.

#joel miller x reader #joel miller smut #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller #pedro pascal #smut #fanfiction #fanfic #dad joel miller #dark!joel x reader #dark!joel miller #dark!joel

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minisugakoobies · 1 year

Text

Paradise | JJK - Thirteen

Pairing: Jungkook x Reader

Genre: smut, neighbors to lovers (not quite friends but not quite strangers), slow burn, love triangle, Stripper!AU

Rating: M (18+)

Warnings: new pov 👀, grinding, fingering, oral sex (m + f receiving), hand job, shower fun, mentions of roleplaying, mentions of biting (always get consent!), a bit of exhibitionism, lots of teasing, texting dirty photos, dirty talk, deepthroating, cum eating, but also a lot of cuddling because Jungkook is pretty whipped y'all and so is reader, Jungkook has to deal with a nasty drunk customer, 2021 AMAs Jungkook is the wedding visual

Word Count: 9.5k

Disclaimers: NSFW, obviously I don’t own BTS - they just inspire me

Summary: That sexy man on stage - the one currently giving your friend the lap dance of her LIFE - is your super shy neighbor, Jeon Jungkook?!

A/N: Fuck, it’s been a while since I updated, huh? Sorry about that! I got busy with holiday fics, and then my life kinda fell apart for a while and writing was the last thing I had time for. And then I had a difficult time with this chapter because I’d decided the story was only going to be 15 chapters and I was trying too hard to wrap things up too quickly… so guess what? Paradise is not ending with chapter 15! I hope you’re still enjoying the story, because it’s gonna go on a bit longer. How long? I don’t know! We’ll find out together! 💕

Song lyrics are from "Notice Me" by SZA

Thanks to @minttangerines for taking a look at this one! Please don’t be a silent reader, I’d love to hear from you! Taglist is open. 💕

Previous Chapter ♦️ Paradise Masterlist ♦️ Next Chapter

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

Alarm clocks are such a cruel invention.

There’s little worse than a tiny machine whose only purpose is to violently jar you from peaceful sleep by means of unholy bleating and throw you directly into your day. Really, whoever invented the alarm clock had to be a sociopath.

These are the sleepy thoughts that run through Jungkook’s head as your alarm clock tears him from his sleep Friday morning. Eyes still closed, he feels you shifting beside him, and then there’s a slapping sound and the annoying beeping ceases. Your heavy sigh makes him smile.

“You know, I’ve always hated your alarm, too,” he mumbles, remembering your confession about his alarm the other night.

“It did not occur to me until this moment that you can hear that every day,” you admit, and he laughs, opening his eyes.

He presses himself forward against your back, burying his face in the nape of your neck to breathe you in. He can smell the faded sweat from last night’s multiple rounds where it still clings to your soft skin. It’s insane to him, how everything about you is wonderful, down to even the smell of your sweat. He hears you sigh again, a happy sound that makes his heart beat faster, and you scoot closer, threading your fingers through his.

“Mmmhmm,” Jungkook hums. “S’okay, I usually just fall back asleep. But I really hate it today, because it means you’re getting up, right?” Obviously you have to go to work. Or login or whatever it is you do with a work from home gig. He tightens his grip when you start to pull away, whining into your skin. “Noooo, don’t leave me.”

“Kookie!” you huff amusedly. He gives up when you persist, twisting yourself onto your side so you can peer at him while he pouts. Your fingers pinch his bottom lip playfully as you eye him, an exuberant grin on your face, and he wants to roll you onto your back and cover your face in kisses until you’re breathless with laughter.

You sigh again. “Does anyone ever say ‘no’ to this face?”

“Nope,” he lies gleefully, lips turning up in a smirk as your arms loop around his neck. “Don’t tell me you’re about to try. You can’t.”

“Actually, I was about to tell you that I hit the snooze button, so you’ve got me for at least another five minutes.” Lightly, you kiss him. He follows your mouth when you pull away to speak, so that you end up breathing the words onto his lips. “Better make them count.”

The delighted giggle you let out when he swiftly rolls you onto your back sends him to the moon. He brings himself back down to earth by covering your mouth and body with his own, his hands reaching for your thighs, prompting you to wrap your legs around him and keep him close.

He feels you start to squirm against him and takes the hint, easily flipping the two of you over so that you’re on top. “Shit, jagi,” he hisses as you roll your hips, grinding your core against his. He can feel how wet you are through where your cunt drags against his naked cock. You’re always so wet for him. He’s definitely getting a big head about it.

That damn alarm clock of yours goes off again, and you groan, sliding from Jungkook’s lap to reach for the machine. Jungkook remains tangled up in your sheets, one arm behind his head as you climb off the bed.

“You, uh, you don’t have to get up now, if you don’t want to. I know it’s early for you. I don’t mind if you want to sleep a little more here.”

He watches as you hurriedly drape yourself in a big t-shirt before turning back to face him. You’re so cute like this, when you get shy in front of him, as if he hasn’t seen every inch of you by now. As if he doesn’t want to see every inch of you. There’s nothing you need to hide from him.

But you seem a little more nervous than usual. Is it because he slept over? He hadn’t intended to, but after the third round last night, you’d fallen asleep on him yet again, this time literally, draped across him, with your head tucked against his neck, and he’d been too enamored to move you. Your soft breathing must’ve lulled him to sleep.

The offer to let him stay and sleep in is sweet, but he’s wide awake now. “Nah, I’m up.”

“Okay. Um, just take your time getting up, I guess.”

Jungkook can’t help but appreciate how awkward you’re being right now. Makes him feel better about his own clumsiness with stuff like this. He always over thinks things when it comes to relationships. Not that this is a relationship. Unless it is, but only if that’s what you want, too.

Shit. Prime example right there.

You’re slowly backing towards the door. Jungkook’s not sure if that’s because you don’t want to leave him or because you’re still trying to keep him from seeing your naked ass under that shirt. Seriously, how are you so cute?

“I’m gonna go shower.”

He can’t help himself. “Want some company?”

You bite your lip, contemplating, and he smirks. He’s not a betting man but he’s pretty sure he knows what your answer is going to be, so he rises from the bed, hard cock slapping against his stomach as he crosses the room. Once his arms are around you again, you sigh. “I’m gonna be late, aren’t I?”

Jungkook grins cheekily. “Depends on how you want it.” His hands roam over your backside, squeezing the soft flesh there. It’s an understatement to say he’s a fan of your ass. He drops a smack on one cheek and you let out a cross between a yelp and a laugh.

“You’re gonna be the death of me, Jeon Jungkook.”

Stealing your giggles away with a kiss, he shuffles the two of you towards your bathroom, only allowing you to break away long enough to turn on the water. Under the spray, he reclaims your mouth again with needy lips. An electric current runs through him every time you moan, and soon he has you pressing your palms into the tiled wall as he slides his fingers into you from behind.

Jungkook’s shy, but he’s not chaste. He’s never had trouble finding someone on the nights when he’s needed to lose himself in someone else. Especially once he started working at Paradise. At first, he’d tried to resist fucking his patrons. Didn’t want the lines to blur too much. But eventually, he caved, too easily flattered by the women throwing themselves at him - literally, some nights - too easily tempted by the pleasures they promised.

He’d go home with them and then slip out in the morning, before they woke. Never wanting more than just a memory. He lived this way for the longest time. It was easy, especially for someone like him, someone who used his onstage cockiness to hide his shyness. Required no real thought, no real effort - beyond, of course, what he gave in the bedroom. Or the shower. Or, more than once, in the car. He always made sure they were satisfied.

So he doesn’t lack experience. But being with you is like nothing he’s ever felt before. Maybe it’s the newness of this physical connection between you that is driving the way he wants you all the time. Like all the time. Or maybe it’s something else.

Whatever it is, he wants more than the memory of a wild night.

These thoughts swirl through his mind as he slams a hand on the wall right above yours, steading himself so he can thrust his other hand into you harder, faster. He tries to shut down the thinking part of his brain as he focuses on the moment, letting the sensations take over.

Slick skin slides against slick skin. The warm water rushing over you both gets in his eyes, his mouth as he drops to his knees, but he doesn’t care.

“Fuck, Kookie.”

Your words reverberate in the resonant space, a chorus of praise that fills the room. He’s the one kneeling, worshipping, but you’re the one praying. All he feels is you.

“Come on, baby, I know you’re close. Just let go.” He grabs at your waist, making you arch your back a little so your ass sticks out. Once you’re in the right position, he tilts his face up and licks along the wet slit where his fingers just were.

Jungkook loves eating pussy. He could spend hours between your legs, face buried in your sweetness, coaxing orgasm after orgasm from you. It makes him feel almost powerful, knowing he can make you come apart so quickly. Confident, in a way he’s rarely known off the stage.

He feels that way now, even though he’s in a rather vulnerable position, crouching in your crowded little bathtub with your thighs on either side of his head. You could crush him with those, so easily. And he’d use his last gasping breath to thank you.

“Kookie, goddamn, that’s - ah - oh, that’s so good!” You press your cheek into the wall, trying to keep your balance as you push your hips back, seeking more of his hot mouth. “Please, oh fuck, please don’t stop!”

There’s no way he’d stop now. He hums into you, loving the way you shudder in response. As your hips begin to rock, dragging your cunt over his eager tongue, he brings his tattooed hand up to press into your clit, tracing tiny circles into the throbbing nub like he’s drawing a bullseye, aiming oh so carefully for the center.

You cry out so loudly when your climax hits. Jungkook feels his dick twitch just from the way you say his name. Before he’s finished licking you clean, you’re reaching for him, pulling him up to join you. He rises obediently as you wrap your hand around his aching cock and begin to stroke.

“Jagi,” he grunts, hips jerking erratically into your hand. His eyes fall shut. His mouth blindly finds yours, kissing you desperately as you twist and tug and then he’s painting both your stomachs with his hot seed before the warm water splashing over you washes it away.

He’s content to let you take the lead when you kiss him this time. Your hands slide into his hair, nails scraping the nape of his neck, and he groans, pulling you closer. He knows you should probably get moving or you’ll be late, but he doesn’t want to stop holding you, and it doesn’t seem like you want to let go, either.

Eventually, though, you climb out, handing Jungkook a towel while wrapping one around yourself. He wrings the water from his long locks before knotting the soft cotton around his waist as he follows you back into your bedroom. When you turn to look at him, something in your eyes makes his pulse race.

“What are your plans for today?”

Jungkook pulls his sweats back on as you throw on a loose shirt and some shorts. “Don’t really have any, other than work tonight.” He’d traded shifts with Bang Chan so he could have tomorrow night off to attend your friend’s wedding with you. Something he’s equally excited and nervous about, though he’s doing his damnedest trying not to show it.

He can tell from your stories and from the few times he’s seen you with your friends that you’re incredibly close. And he gets the vibe that your friends are pretty protective of you. Especially Jisoo. Jungkook finds her pretty intimidating. Even if both Taehyung and Jimin swear she’s a sweet little kitten. Hard to trust their judgment when they’re both so lovesick.

You’re still looking at him, though you seem deep in thought. Finally, you nod. “Okay. I’m taking today off, too.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, fuck it, I need a break from that place. And yesterday was so nice…” you shrug, playing with the drawstrings at your waist. “Maybe we could hang out again? Since you’re free?”

Jungkook’s starting to worry about the effect you have on his heart. Right now, it feels like it might just float straight out of his body and through the ceiling.

“I mean, if that’s what you want…” he replies, hoping his tone sounds calmer than he feels. How’s he supposed to play it cool when such a simple question makes him so happy like this?

You slide off the wall, stepping closer until you place your hands on his chest. “It’s what I want,” you confirm, brushing your lips against his. He feels you smile as he tries to deepen the kiss, but you dance away from his grasp. “Let me email my boss quick, and then I’m all yours.”

It’s amazing how much he wants that to be true. Jungkook watches you walk away, hips swaying, and it hits him suddenly - he’s fallen so, so hard for you.

Fuck. Whatever he does now, he can’t mess this up. Like he always does.

“Do you want some breakfast?” Your voice calls to him from your kitchen and he snaps out of his thoughts.He finds you rummaging through your cupboard, grabbing bowls and a box of cereal.

He munches away happily while you take a seat at your desk. “So you like working from home?” Jungkook loves dancing at Paradise, but he’s thought about camming a few times. It’d be nice to skip the commute. And the grabby customers.

“I fucking love it,” you answer, making him laugh. “I hate it when I have to go into the office. Everyone’s so loud there, all hopped up on stale coffee from the break room. Plus, I really hate having to abide by the dress code. I work better in joggers and comfy t-shirts, but some people aka my boss think that’s unacceptable.” You roll your eyes, scrolling through your email. “Ugh, I need to follow up on some of these. Shouldn’t take long.”

Jungkook tries to picture what you must look like at your office. He imagines you sitting behind a large desk, dressed in a smart suit, something like what he’s seen someone wearing in a movie, with a sharply tailored jacket clinging to your curves and a tight pencil skirt, maybe a little tighter than strictly necessary, and then his reverie shifts. Now you’re standing in front of your desk, palms pressing into the shiny surface as you bend over in that tight little skirt, and -

Wow, he needs to get a hold of himself. He lowers his bowl a little to cover the half-chub he’s sporting, and remembers something relating to suits. “Hey, for the wedding tomorrow - is it black tie?”

“Shit, I’m sorry, I really haven’t said much about the wedding, have I?” You twist in your chair to glance at him. “It’s not a super fancy ceremony. You can just wear, like, a nice suit, if you have one?”

“All my suits are tearaways.”

“Oh. Oh.” You blink as you realize what he means, and then he laughs. With your eyes wide like that, you kind of resemble a deer in headlights - an expression he’s come to adore, since he sees it frequently.

“That was a joke. I have normal suits.” He takes your hand and kisses the back of it. “It’s really too easy sometimes.” Flustering you is his favorite new hobby. He’s kinda proud of how good he is at it.

“Shut up.” You press your lips together in what looks like annoyance, but he knows you’re fighting back a laugh. He grabs your empty bowl, heading for the kitchen. “Anyway, about tomorrow, I’m gonna get ready with Jennie and the other girls, so I’ll meet you at the hotel before the ceremony. I did tell you where the wedding is, right?”

“You did. The Black Swan.”

Another reason Jungkook is rather nervous about tomorrow. The Black Swan is an expensive, high-end luxury hotel in the heart of downtown Seoul. Clearly your friends are doing pretty well if they can afford to get married at the hotel’s famous rooftop venue, overlooking the entire city. He bets they all have prestigious jobs or something, like lawyers and professors and doctors.

“Right! Okay, good, at least I told you that much. Sorry, my brain’s just been all over the place lately.”

He just hums sympathetically, lost in his own messy mind. Thinking about the rooftop makes him think of that night at Dionysus, when he’d gotten too drunk, sulking over the fact that you were on a date with someone else…

Oh shit. Jungkook pauses mid-pour of a second bowl of cereal. Are you still seeing that guy? It’s been a while since you’ve said anything about him. Seokjin. Kim Seokjin, the super successful chef. Jungkook had checked out his YouTube channel after seeing the two of you in the hallway that one time. The guy seemed to have it all - talent, good looks, and you in his arms.

But does he still have you? Does Jungkook, for that matter? Maybe he shouldn’t think in such terms. How can anyone really “have” anyone, anyway?

It’d be okay for him to ask you about Seokjin. Right? There was that whole competition or whatever… He closes his eyes, trying to calm his thoughts. Relax, dude, you’re spiraling.

“Oh shit!”

Jungkook pops his head out of the kitchen at your shout. “What? Is there another spider?”

“You’re not gonna let me live that down, are you?”

“Nope.” He pops the ‘p’ before chomping down on another spoonful, crossing the space to stand beside you.

“Well, it’s nothing bad. My friend Wendy, the one I told you about, that I used to work with? She said someone quit unexpectedly and her company needs to hire someone immediately for some sort of new project, so she wants to know if I would be interested in coming in for an interview!”

You beam up at him, and he’s honestly not sure if it’s the sugar rush or just you, but he feels a little lightheaded as he grins back.

“Jagi! That’s great!”

“Yeah! It’s kinda amazing, actually. I feel like Wendy’s thrown me a life preserver.” You fall silent as you reread the email. Jungkook swallows as quietly as he can, not wanting to disturb your concentration. He notes your brow furrowing as the silence stretches on.

“Everything okay?”

“Hmm? Oh, yeah! This is great! I just…” you trail off, still reading. He waits. “They want me to interview next week, which is… a little quick.”

“Ah,” he hums.

Could you be nervous? Although you’ve told him that you’re sick of your company, you strike him as someone who is incredibly surefooted when it comes to your career. It’s honestly pretty sexy. (As if everything about you isn’t sexy, right down to the way your fingers lightly caress the wheel of your mouse and goddamn it, he really needs to stop thinking with his cock.)

But then you bite your lip as your gaze meets his and he realizes that yes, you are nervous. And it’s a feeling he can understand.

“It doesn’t give me a lot of time to get myself ready. I mean, I’m thrilled that Wendy recommended me for the position, and I’m sure I could handle it, from what she’s saying, but... it’s been ages since I last interviewed for anything.”

Jungkook nods, chewing on the inside of his cheek. You glance at the computer screen again, and he’s overcome with the urge to do whatever he can to ease your mind. “I know it’s not the same, but when I was preparing for my audition at Paradise, I had Taehyung helping me out. Maybe I could do the same for you?” He lifts a shoulder. “Ask you some questions? Help you ease back into it.”

“Like… a fake interview or something?”

He nods. “If that would help.”

“Really?” Your tone is hopeful, making his heart buoyant again. “You wouldn’t mind?”

He’d have to search the internet for examples of things to ask you, since he doesn’t know the first thing about financial advising or whatever, but Jungkook feels pretty sure that he can do this for you. If you want him to. “Not at all.”

“That would… be really great, Kookie. Thank you.” This time when you smile, it’s a shy thing, and before he can think he’s bending down to kiss you gently. You giggle into it, eyelashes fluttering when he pulls away. “What was that for?”

He shrugs again, painfully aware that the tips of his ears are warming, turning red. “Nothing. How many more emails do you need to answer?”

“Um…” you stare at your laptop. “Let me just respond to Wendy and then I’m done.”

“Cool.” Jungkook stretches. He doesn’t miss the way your eyes roam over his bare torso as he does so. He smirks, enjoying when you look away, knowing you’ve been caught. Wrapping his arms around your shoulders, he lowers his mouth to your ear. “I’m gonna go home and take off these dirty clothes. Come find me when you’re done. I’ll be waiting.”

“Fuck,” is your breathy response. He laughs. You’re really too good for his ego. But before you can say or do anything else to inflate his head a little more, your phone rings.

Be still, my heaaaaart…

“Oh god, I bet that’s my boss, wanting to talk me out of taking off.” You frown as you check the screen. “Shit, it’s Jisoo. I gotta take this.”

Jungkook carries his bowl back into the kitchen, an excuse to give you a little privacy to talk to your friend. But he can still hear your half of the conversation anyway.

“Ji! What’s going on? Wait, what’s that sound? Is that Jennie? Is she crying?” A brief pause. “Okay, okay, I’m coming over! No, I’m not working today, I - it’s a long story, I’ll explain when I get there.”

Jungkook reemerges from the kitchen when he hears you say goodbye. “Is everything okay?” he asks again.

You shake your head. “I don’t know. Jisoo’s at Jennie’s, I need to get over there.” You move hurriedly down the hallway to your room. “I could hear Jennie crying in the background.”

“Jisoo didn’t say what happened?” Jungkook watches you dress, feeling helpless. You’re radiating with a nervous energy that makes him tap his fingers agitatedly against his thigh.

“No, all she said was that Jennie needs me.” You frown, staring into your closet. “I don’t know how long I’ll be gone. I’m sorry.”

He doesn’t know what you’re apologizing to him for. “It’s all right. Your friends need you.” He grins when you put on his hoodie. It really does look better on you than him. “Don’t worry about me. Just text me later.”

“I will.” You give him a playful smile as his fingers grip at your hip, drawing you closer to him. “I’ll try not to keep you waiting too long.”

“Better not,” Jungkook murmurs, other hand clutching your chin to bring your mouth towards his.

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

You stay on my mind, I can't regret no times spent with you

And I still wonder if you notice me, yes

Jungkook tips his head, staring at the canvas in front of him. Music blares from his stereo and he sings along to it without thinking. It’s like breathing for him sometimes.

The portrait he’s working on is nearly finished, finally. It’s taken him a bit longer to do this one than usual. He’d like to blame that on being busy the last few weeks, but the truth is that he was having a hard time with the photo his patron provided. It’s not that he can’t paint from a static shot, but he prefers live models or being out in nature. He needs movement, light, even the sounds his subject makes help him to better capture them.

But he’s pretty happy with his progress on this one. He dips his brush into the mix of yellows on his palette, a sort of sunny shade that he’s using for highlights in the woman’s hair. The gentle tap-tap of his paintbrush against the canvas triggers a tingling sensation down the back of his scalp.

He doesn’t realize how long he’s been working until his phone buzzes and he glances at the screen. It’s a spam text, so he ignores it, but he’s shocked to see that it’s already past noon. It’s not completely surprising that he lost track of time - that’s usually what happens when he’s in the zone. Everything around him falls away until there’s nothing left but him and the canvas. He learned a long time ago to set timers for himself on the days he has work or other plans or else he’d never stop.

But it is a little surprising that he managed to stop thinking about you for a few hours. Not because he’s obsessed with you or anything, but because after he left your apartment this morning, he was too excited at the thought of another full day with you to do anything but think about you.

And as always, his excitement triggered an avalanche of questions. Just like this morning. What should the two of you do today? There was a new gallery on the east side of town that he’d been meaning to check out - would you want to go with him? He’d love to spend an afternoon just walking around with you, talking about art - or anything, really. Or maybe you’d rather just hang out at your place?

Or maybe you’d have wedding stuff you’d need to do? He remembered you said that you were the maid of honor. He didn’t quite know what that entailed but figured it was important. Your friend Jennie must really trust you. Made sense to him. You and him had only been doing this… dating… whatever that you had going on only for a short while and yet he felt like he could trust you with anything.

And speaking of dating, what about Seokjin? Were you still seeing him? You hadn’t mentioned him in a while. Jungkook wasn’t sure if that was because he had won the little competition, or if you just didn’t want to talk about Seokjin with him. He should probably ask.

Although… there was the other night, in the hallway at Paradise. When you’d asked him for a dance. Fuck, he wished he’d could’ve danced for you. He’d been working on a routine just for you… but that night, you’d pulled him close and confessed that you only wanted him. He wanted to believe it wasn’t the alcohol talking. That you’d meant it. But the thought of asking terrified him a little. What if you didn’t remember your own words?

His thoughts looped back around to the wedding again. There was this burning desire to impress your friends that was starting to worry him. He already knew which suit he was going to wear tomorrow, wanting to dress to kill. Maybe he’d ask Jimin to do his makeup - Jimin usually did his makeup at Paradise.

Any time Jungkook’s brain would get overwhelmed, he would slip into what his friends refer to as his “buffering mode.” He’d freeze in place, eyes wide but unseeing as he struggled to sort out his thoughts. This morning, Jungkook realized he’d gone into this mode again when smoke began to sting his nose and he snapped back to reality to discover that he’d burnt the fuck out of his kimchi eggs. Cursing, he threw the ruined second breakfast in the trash, and decided to put on some music and focus on his painting before he burnt down his apartment.

It worked. All those questions and worries melted away as he’d picked up his brush. But now the day’s half over and he hasn’t heard anything from you. He hopes that doesn’t mean anything bad.

His phone is still in his hand, staring up at him impassively. He debates for a few minutes, the desire to talk to you warring with the fear that he’ll come across as impatient or worse, needy, before finally putting the phone down.

He can keep waiting. The truth is, he’ll wait as long as it takes.

So he makes lunch. Checks his mail. Does a load of laundry. The time ticks by.

Until finally, his phone buzzes. He lunges across the pile of boxers he’s folding to grab it.

Jagiya (3:01): Kookie I’m so sorry!

Jagiya (3:01): I completely lost track of time

(3:02): it’s ok jagi

(3:02): everything all right?

It’s a few minutes before the dots on his screen disappear.

Jagiya (3:04): Yes but no but yes?

He has no idea what that’s supposed to mean.

Jagiya (3:04): I’ll tell you everything later, but right now, Jennie needs me

Jagiya (3:05): So I’m gonna be here a bit longer. Through dinner, at least

His heart sinks. Those little dots reappear.

Jagiya (3:06): I know we were gonna hang out. Can you forgive me?

(3:06): nothing to forgive

(3:07): do what you gotta do

His reply makes him cringe. It reads back as indifferent. What he meant to say was, you don’t need to apologize for being there for your friends. He understands. He panics a little, thumbs flying, wanting to show that he cares.

(3:07): is there anything i can do?

Jagiya (3:08): You’re so sweet 😘

His heart rebounds a little.

Jagiya (3:08): We’re okay here, thanks

Jagiya (3:09): But I guess I won’t see you before you leave for work

Jagiya (3:09): 😞

He can picture you wearing the same expression as the emoji you send. A sad little pout. He wants to kiss it away.

(3:10): it’s ok

(3:10): you’ll have me all day tomorrow

Jagiya (3:10): And all night?

Jagiya (3:11): 😙

(3:11): for as long as you want me, jagi

He hopes you understand just what he means.

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

Like it is any other Friday, Paradise is packed. The club is always stuffed full on weekend nights with patrons wanting to toss off the stress of a hard week and slip into a world of fantasy. And it’s Jungkook’s job to give that to them. After finishing his second stage performance of the night, he makes his way back to the bar, where Jimin slides him a glass of water. Taehyung joins him.

“Two more Dick Suckers, please, Min.” Taehyung sets his tray on the bar. “Nice job with that last lapdance, Kook. Poor thing asked me what her name was when she got back to her seat.” A boxy smile splits his face. “Not my name, her name.”

Jungkook grins back. He’d been tapped to dance for a woman celebrating her divorce being finalized. At first, she’d refused to get up, but her friend, who had paid for it, had insisted that she needed to embrace her new freedom. Once on stage, she’d sat silently, slack-jawed, with her hands clasped tightly over her chest, until Jungkook finally took them and placed them on his ass. At which point she’d shrieked so loudly, he thought he’d ruptured an eardrum. After that, she didn’t stop screaming for a second.

“Thanks. Been choreographing that one for a while. Guess it works.” Jungkook tips back the rest of his water, wiping his forehead with his tattooed arm. “Is the air busted again? It’s hotter than fuck in here.” His entire torso is dripping with sweat, from the exertion of his performance, and the room feels stifling around him.

“It’s probably just Hoseok-hyung trying to save a buck again. I’ll talk to him,” Jimin replies, placing two bright blue drinks on Taehyung’s tray. “So what time do you want to stop by tomorrow?”

“What are you two doing?” Taehyung inquires.

“Nothing involving you,” Jimin shoots back. Jungkook cocks an eyebrow. “Taehyung’s not invited over to my place any more.”

“I said I was sorry,” the other man drawls. “I mean it.”

“Sure you do.” Jimin runs a hand through his pink hair as he rolls his eyes.

“Do I want to know?” Jungkook asks.

Taehyung sighs. “After work last night, Jisoo and the two of us were hanging out at Jimin’s and someone,” he flicks his dark eyes towards the bartender, “didn’t appreciate my commitment to the scene we were playing.”

“The scene you were… ah, shit, is this some roleplaying stuff?” Jungkook knows his friends are into roleplaying. Mostly because they spend a large amount of time working out the details of said scenes. Usually in the form of very annoying arguments.

“Look, I can’t help it if I get too deep into character, okay? That’s what you’re supposed to do! Make it feel real!”

“Vampires aren’t real, Tae!” Jimin hisses. “But the bite you left on my ass sure is!” He looks at Jungkook. “I’m going to go find Hoseok. Watch the bar, will you? And just text me tomorrow, I’ll be home all morning.” He glares at Taehyung. “Alone!”

Taehyung sniffs as Jimin disappears towards the back of the club. “He’s just jealous because my vamp was more believable than his werewolf.”

Jungkook slips behind the bar, shaking his head. “He seems pretty mad, hyung.”

“He’ll get over it. He usually likes biting. I think my choice of location caught him by surprise.”

Taehyung wanders off to deliver the drinks to his waiting patrons. The bar gets a little busy while he’s gone, with Jungkook struggling a bit to keep up with the orders coming in. When Taehyung returns, he heads straight for the other side of the bar, to give Jungkook a hand.

“So what are you and Jimin doing tomorrow? I thought you were going to the wedding with YN.”

“I am. He’s just helping me get ready, that’s all.”

Taehyung smiles at a patron as he hands her an Adios Motherfucker. “Careful with that, sweetheart, it’s strong.” He looks at Jungkook. “Hair and makeup?”

“Yeah.” With the smooth flick of a wrist, Jungkook finishes another drink, handing it off with a wink. The DJ calls Namjoon to the stage and the crowd at the bar disperses as another performance begins. Jungkook grabs a towel and starts mopping the counter. He’s a serviceable bartender but he’s pretty messy.

“Mmm.” Taehyung leans back, watching Jungkook clean. He folds his arms over his bare chest. “Kook-ah. There’s no reason to be nervous.”

Jungkook doesn’t even ask how he knows, replacing some bottles on the wall behind the bar. “I just want to make a good impression.”

“You think you won’t?”

Jungkook gazes at the mirror behind the racks of bottles. Wide eyes stare back. He can’t put his fears into words, struggling as usual to communicate what has him so worried. It’s just a feeling, one that’s been growing all day, the more he thinks about the wedding. That you and your friends are from another world, one where everyone is self-assured and in control of their lives. And he’s just out here, barely floating by.

“I’m just making sure I do.” He pauses, finally looking at Taehyung. He sees Jimin approaching out of the corner of his eye. “I really like her, hyung. I-I think this could be something.”

“Awww, Jungkook-ah!” Jimin coos, pinching Jungkook’s cheeks. “Our little Jungkookie’s in love!”

“Hyung, stop.” Jungkook smacks his hands away. As the youngest of his group of friends, Jungkook’s used to being babied by his friends. He hates it. “I didn’t say - it’s not - “

“Kook-ah.” Taehyung places a hand on both of Jungkook’s shoulders, turning him to face him. “What am I always telling you?”

Jungkook sucks in a deep breath, huffs it back out. “Confidence.” He feels a little ridiculous doing this here, behind the bar where patrons can see him getting a motivational speech from his hyungs. But sometimes he needs it.

“That’s right.” Taehyung squeezes his shoulders reassuringly. “Just be confident. You know who you are. And who you are is amazing.”

“Hyung….” Jungkook is thankful that the pink lighting of the bar hides the deepening blush of his cheeks. Taehyung has been trying to bolster his confidence since the day they met, all those years ago in art school. He always appreciates it, but sometimes the man can get a little cheesy.

“Hey pretty boy!”

A loud voice disrupts the moment. All three men turn to find a woman leaning over the bar. She’s clearly drunk, head propped on her hand as she smiles at Jungkook. Her head bobs a little as she sways.

Jungkook recognizes her. The divorcée from earlier. “Can I help you, ahjumma?”

She curls her finger, beckoning him closer. He leans towards her, careful to still maintain his distance. Drunken patrons have been known to try to get handsy with the dancers.

“I wan’ a private dance,” she demands, words slurring a bit.

Jungkook glances at Taehyung and Jimin. They appear to be on the same page as he is, based on their furrowed brows and pursed lips. She’s too drunk. Where is her friend?

“I believe all of our private rooms are busy at the moment. Can I get you some water while you wait?” Jimin doesn’t wait for an answer as he places a glass in front of her. She just waves him off.

“Not talking to you. Talking to him.” She points at Jungkook, grinning. Her smile turns Jungkook’s stomach a little. It’s cold. “I want a private dance. If I can’t have it here, maybe I could have it later? At my place?”

Jungkook’s own smile feels tight. “I’m sorry, I don’t do private dances outside of the club.”

She tilts forward, and Jungkook can smell the alcohol wafting off her. “Come on, pretty boy, I’ll pay. I have,” she hiccups, covering her mouth, “I have so much money.”

“It’s not a matter of money.” Jungkook scans the floor behind her. Seriously, where the hell is this woman’s friend? Should they call her a ride?

The woman scoffs at Jungkook’s response. “Oh, come on, of course it is! That’s why you’re here, right? You dance, I give you money. It’s your job, honey.”

Jimin and Taehyung are having a hushed conversation next to him, but Jungkook isn’t listening. He knows it’s pointless to try to reason with this customer, and yet he keeps trying.

“It’s not my job. My job is to dance here. Not in private.” He knows what she wants, but he’s not for sale. He used to give it away for free, but he never took money or gifts. But even if he did sex work, he’s not going home with her. Especially not if she refuses to accept it when he says no. “Why don’t you have a seat, and I’ll call you a ride? We’ll make sure you get home safely.”

She seems to finally realize that she’s not going to get her way, and her demeanor changes, countenance warping into an ugly sneer. “Don’t you con-condescend to me! You’re just a pretty boy with a hot body. Good for nothing but a quick fuck.”

Even though it’s obvious that this woman is totally wasted, her words sting anyway, like a slap in the face. Jungkook recoils slightly, drawing back from the bar.

“Okay, that’s enough,” Taehyung announces, sliding out from under the bar. “Let’s sit down, shall we?” But as he moves towards the woman, they hear another voice calling out.

“Oh my god, there you are!” It’s the woman’s friend, looking frazzled as she runs up to the bar. “I’m sorry, I thought she’d be okay while I ran to the bathroom. I got back to our table and people next to me said she’d stolen some shots from their table and wandered off!”

“Well, that explains it,” Taehyung frowns. “I think you should take your friend home.”

“I will. I’m so sorry, I hope she hasn’t been any trouble. She hasn’t been this drunk in years!” She wraps an arm around the divorcée’s shoulders. “Come on, let’s get you home.”

The three men watch silently as the woman’s friend steers her towards the door, taking a wobbly path due to her friend’s intoxication. After a moment, Jungkook feels his friends’ eyes on him, but he keeps focused on the two women until they reach the entrance.

“She was drunk, Kook,” Taehyung murmurs. Again, Jungkook doesn’t even need to ask how he knows what he was thinking.

“I know.”

“Don’t let her get to you,” Jimin says in a gentle tone. He lightly pats Jungkook’s arm. “I’ve got the bar covered. Why don’t you go take a break?”

The locker room is empty when Jungkook enters. He pauses in front of a mirror for a moment, taking the time to wipe away where his eye makeup has smudged from the humidity in the club. He knows that woman was drunk. He knows this. And yet, her words have fed directly into his fears.

What if he’s not enough? What if all he’s good for is, as those words rattling around in his head angrily declare, “a quick fuck?”

The drunken woman’s expression while he’d danced for her reminded him of the night he’d danced for your friend Jennie. The way you’d looked at him, like you were seeing him for the first time. How he’d liked it. How, when he told his friends that the neighbor he’d been crushing on for months had shown up, he’d been encouraged to try and make a move. Ugh, that clumsy first attempt at flirting, using your shower - the memory makes his ears turn red. He’d stolen that idea from some cheesy movie he’d seen. But it worked, hadn’t it? It led to here. To whatever the two of you were now.

If only he knew what that was.

Suddenly, he needs to talk to you. He rummages through his bag until he finds his phone, grinning when he sees there’s a message waiting for him.

Jagiya (11:05): Hope you’re having a good night 😚

(11:53): it’s better now

(11:53): you still up?

He doesn’t have to wait long.

Jagiya (11:54): I’m here

He presses the call button.

“Hey Kookie.” Your voice is so warm, equal parts sleepy and surprised. He imagines you’re lying in bed, can picture the way you looked this morning. Wishes he were there.

“Hey Jagi.” He leans back against his locker, closing his eyes. “Is it okay that I called?”

“Of course,” you laugh. “What’s up?”

“Not much. I just… wanted to hear your voice.” He didn’t mean to say that. But it’s the truth.

You hum, this sweet, soft sound that fills his chest with a happy buzzing. “You okay?”

“I’m okay. Just a long night.” He’ll tell you another time about what happened. He’d rather not relive it right now. “Is everything all right for tomorrow?”

“Yeah, Jennie’s good, and everything’s still set for the wedding. I really can’t wait, it’s gonna be amazing.”

“I can’t wait, either,” Jungkook admits.

There’s nothing but the gentle sound of your breathing on the other end of the line for a few seconds, and then you ask, “Do you, um, want a sneak peek at my outfit for tomorrow? I took a picture earlier when I was trying it on.”

“Sure.” He’s not going to turn down the chance to see your beautiful smile right now.

The image that you send him a few seconds later takes his breath away.

There’s no bridesmaid gown in sight. Instead, sheer white lace covers your body, the delicate fabric flowing from your breasts down your torso to your hips in a tight-fitting strapless one-piece. Around your waist is a snug garter belt, straps extending down your thighs to where they fasten to silk stockings. And the expression on your face nearly makes him whimper. You’ve one of your hands raised to your mouth, pointer finger dragging your bottom lip down as the edge of your pink tongue licks the tip.

All the blood in his body rushes south. As he stares at his phone, unable to blink, Jungkook exhales loudly.

“Fuck.”

You laugh again. “Do you like it?”

“Jagi, I - “ Words fail him. You’re gorgeous, every inch of you. “I love it. Fuck, you’re so sexy.”

More giggles. “Noooo, I’m not, stop. I wasn’t planning on wearing this under my dress originally, but I remembered I’d bought it months ago when Jisoo and I were out day drinking and shopping and I - I don’t know.” The words come out in a rush, like you’re embarrassed. “I just want to look good for you, Kookie.”

Fuck. Why’s he gotta be at work right now? He palms over his erection, wondering if he has the time to lock himself in a bathroom stall and take care of it. While telling you exactly what he wants to do to you in that lingerie tomorrow.

“You always look so good, baby,” he groans, voice a little husky. “I can’t wait to see this in person. Was it expensive?”

“No, I don’t think so? I don’t really remember. Did I mention the drunkenness?”

“Good. Then you don’t mind if it gets a little ripped?” Jungkook grins at your tiny inhale at his words. “Because after the wedding, I’m gonna-”

“Hey Kook-ah, you in here?” Hoseok pokes his head into the locker room. “Ah, there you are. Come on, you and Taehyung are up.”

“Be out in a minute, hyung,” Jungkook nods and the other man leaves. He sighs into the phone. “Shit. I’m sorry, jagiya, but I gotta get back out there.”

“Wait! Aren’t you going to finish your thought? You can’t leave me hanging like this!” There’s a playfulness to your tone that makes his already hard cock ache. He’s going to have to go stand under an ice-cold shower for a minute before getting back into costume for his double routine with Taehyung.

“Oh, baby, trust me, you don’t have to worry. You’ll be taken care of. When I see you tomorrow.” Jungkook smirks at his reflection when you whine in his ear.

“Fine.” You sound wounded. “Guess I’ll see you.”

“You will. Night, jagi.”

“G’night, Kookie.” With a final exasperated sigh, you hang up.

Before he puts his phone back into his bag, it buzzes again. Another photo of you, this time just your face, wearing the saddest pout. The message makes him laugh.

Jagiya (12:04): You’re such a tease

He fires off a response, then heads towards the showers, chuckling to himself the whole time

(12:04): i know

(12:04): sweet dreams

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

There’s not a single cloud in the sky as Jungkook steers his motorcycle down the busy city streets Saturday afternoon. He can see the Black Swan towering over the other highrises as he draws nearer. He tries to ignore the nerves in his stomach, but the swirling is impossible to ignore the closer he gets.

By the time he’s in the elevator, rising to where the ceremony is being held, the swirling has become a maelstrom. He breathes through his mouth, inhaling and exhaling slowly. It’s gonna be fine. He just needs to walk out there with confidence, like Taehyung said. He can do this. Just pretend like he’s on stage. Too bad there won’t be any actual dancing until the reception. That’s when he feels the most at ease.

The elevator dings as it arrives at the rooftop. When the doors part, his eyes widen, taking in the gorgeous scenery before him. The elevator opens directly into a lush garden, with flowering bushes and potted maple trees dotting the grounds. To his right, a mirrored wall reflects the greenery, making the open space feel even larger. The reception venue is on the other side of the mirrored wall, but the ceremony will be held in the gardens.

Chairs have been arranged in rows on either side of a strip of green grass, cut low for the bridal party to walk down. At the end of the green pathway is an arch-shaped trellis covered with flowering vines and tiny string lights. And as his eyes adjust to the brilliant sunlight, he recognizes the group of women talking in front of the arch.

Your dress is identical to the ones worn by the three women standing by you, but he barely acknowledges this fact, too busy focusing on you and you alone. The lavender-colored silk hugs your curves, a small slit cut right at your left knee to reveal the stockings beneath. He tries not to think about what’s holding those stockings up. The straps of the dress rest just off your shoulders, snug against the soft skin there.

You’ve opted for a fresh-faced natural look, with light makeup just highlighting your features. There’s a pink mugunghwa flower tucked behind your right ear, matching the simple bouquet in your hands. You’re a summer dream, blinding Jungkook with your radiant beauty.

The tumult in his stomach stills more the longer he admires you.

He pauses at the edge of the pathway, unsure if he should disturb you and your friends. But Jisoo makes the decision for him, as she turns and catches him watching you. She purses her lips, a loud wolf whistle piercing the air.

“Holy shit, Bambi’s looking fine!”

The rest of the group jumps as she grins, pointing to Jungkook. When your gaze meets his, he feels a jolt of electricity. He smirks, emboldened by your eyes on him, and strikes a pose, one hand in the pocket of his charcoal grey suit, cinched tight at his waist with a thick belt. Jimin had swept Jungkook’s hair off his face, showing off his eyebrow piercing, and did an impeccable job with his makeup. Jungkook knows he looks good.

The expression on your face confirms it.

As the other girls start whooping in agreement with Jisoo, he takes the opportunity to tease you a little, strutting down the grass pathway like he’s working the stage. He can tell it’s working when you glance away from the heat of his gaze, biting your lip to suppress a grin, before giving in and beaming widely at him.

“Hey,” you say.

“Hey,” he replies, matching your smile. “You look beautiful, jagi.”

There’s some cackling from the other girls, but he ignores it, lost in your eyes. Until Jisoo’s hand appears in front of his face, snapping her fingers.

“Hi, hello, you two can continue this after the ceremony, okay? Jennie will kill you if we start late because you were too busy eye-fucking at the altar.”

“Ji!” you hiss as the other girls continue to giggle. “Koo- uh, Jungkook, you remember Jisoo, I’m sure.” He nods, shoulders shaking slightly with quiet laughter. “And this is Lisa and Rosé.”

“Nice to see you again,” Rosé greets him.

“Thanks, you too,” he replies, and then his mind goes blank. Thankfully, you save him from having to make small talk, looping your arm through his. You hand your bouquet to Lisa.

“Have you seen the setup for the reception? It’s incredible.” And you start to tug him down the pathway, away from your friends.

“Remember, we’re starting in half an hour!” Lisa calls after you.

Jungkook can’t quite make out what Jisoo says next, but it has the others laughing loudly, and he hears you mumble something about “unhinged freaks,” under your breath. You lead him through the double doors in the mirrored wall, into the rooftop restaurant that’s been converted into a reception space. But before he can get a good look at the room, you’re guiding him out of it and down a hallway.

“Uh… wasn’t that the room?”

“Oh, that was just to get you away from my friends before they said or did anything else to humiliate me.” You glance at him, and his heart skips a beat when he sees the heat in your eyes. “I’ve got something else in mind.”

You stop in front of a door, ushering him inside. The men’s room, he quickly realizes, fingers locked in yours as you pull him into a stall.

“Jagi? What - “

That’s as much as he gets out before you throw your arms around his neck and crush his mouth to yours. There’s an urgent hunger in your kiss that he immediately responds to, sliding his hands along the smooth silk of your dress to hold you close. But just as suddenly as you kissed him, you’re breaking away, dropping to your knees.

Oh shit. He goes from half-mast and confused to fully erect and excited in a matter of seconds, staring down at you as your fingers make short work of his button and fly.

“I missed you last night,” you inform him, swiftly yanking his pants down.

“Jagi,” he breathes, almost lightheaded with want as you nuzzle your face against the outline of his cock through his boxer briefs. It’s strangely sweet and filthy all at once. “Missed you too.”

“And even though you left me so… unsatisfied… last night,” you continue, fingernails lightly scratching up his thighs, sending a shiver down his spine, “and you are the one who promised me that I’d be taken care of today, seeing you in this suit…” As you trail off, you slide Jungkook’s boxers to the ground. He springs forth, bobbing so close to your mouth that he can feel your hot breath.

“You like the suit?” he blurts out, earning himself a sweet giggle. Fuck, how are you being so cute right now while you’re this close to his dick? You stare up at him, all innocent doe eyes and angelic smile, and Jungkook thinks that he’d give you the world right now if you asked him to.

“Can I show you how much I like it?”

He nods vigorously, and you curl a hand around his cock as you suck the tip into your mouth.

“Mmmmph,” he moans, pressing his lips together to stifle the sound. Anyone could walk in here at any moment. Even though you’ve hiked your gown up, clutching the hem in one hand to keep it from trailing out of the stall and getting dirty, it’s pretty fucking obvious that there’s someone on their knees in here, sucking the life out of Jungkook’s dick.

Your mouth is perfect, so warm and wet and tight around his thick length. His hips jerk forward when you hollow your cheeks. He’s going to come embarrassingly fast, he just knows it.

“Baby,” he rasps when you swirl your tongue around the head, coating him in more saliva. His own tongue pokes through his teeth as he tries his best not to whine loudly. “Fuck, you’re making such a mess.”

You pop off him to inspect his cock. It’s covered in your lipstick. “Oops. Sorry about that.” You swallow him back down, mouth working in tandem with your hand to stroke him off.

“S’okay,” he murmurs, left hand clutching the top of the stall wall so tightly that his knuckles are turning white. “I-I like it messy.”

He twitches in your mouth when you hum at his words. Shit, he’s definitely going to come.

“Jagi, I can’t hold out, ‘m gonna, ah shit!” You take him as deep as you can, choking around him, and he understands what you’re telling him, that it’s okay, that you want him to come down your throat, and with that realization he’s gone, flooding your mouth as he bites down on his tattooed hand to muffle his contented groan.

You take everything he has to give, gulping it down so lewdly that he grabs your hand, pulling you to your feet so he can kiss you fervently, not caring if he can taste himself on your tongue.

“You’re amazing,” he whispers against your lips, cupping your face with both hands. You merely sigh, high and sweet, mouth brushing his, laughing as you gently push him away.

“I better get back out there,” you say, straightening your dress. The flower behind your ear has slipped a little, and Jungkook reaches out to fix it for you. You smile gratefully, pressing one last peck to his cheek. “Give it a few minutes before you come out, okay?”

He nods, but stops you before you can unlock the stall. “I’m still going to take care of you later, you know.”

“I know,” you grin, and then you slip out the door.

Jungkook takes a minute to clean himself up. It almost seems a shame to wash the lipstick off, but he decides he’ll just ask you to put more on later. God, he can’t wait to get you alone tonight.

Before he leaves the bathroom, he checks the mirror to make sure he doesn’t look as wrecked as he feels. His earlier jitters have completely disappeared. He feels as confident as he looks. He can do this.

And then Jungkook emerges from the bathroom, and his world tilts a bit. Because there, standing at the other end, with his arms slung around your back, is Kim Seokjin.

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

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#jungkook smut #bts smut #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #bts scenarios #jungkook x you #jungkook fanfic #bts fanfic #jeon jungkook x you #jeon jungkook x reader #jeon jungkook fanfic #jeon jungkook smut #btshoneyhive #bangtantheatrenet #thebtswritersclub #bangtanarmynet #fic: paradise

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sarahowritesostucky · 3 months

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📖"Temporary Custody"

Rating: Explicit

Pairing: Steve x ofc x Bucky; Steve x Bucky

Word Count: 3658

Tags: Dom/sub, bdsm au, dom Bucky, sub reader, hurt/comfort, enemies to lovers, gay sex'n'stuff, straight sex'n'stuff, Steve being a literal Golden Retriever, mental health issues, dub-con, forced submission, bakery au, m/f/m, gentle domination, total power exchange

Summary: The stigma and shame of being a submissive has kept Mary unfulfilled and in the closet her whole life, until an inciting incident leads to Bucky and Steve taking her in and giving her everything she was always too afraid to ask for.

Trigger warnings: This story contains background themes of eating disordered behavior, body image issues, self-harm, and alcohol abuse.

Wait! I haven't read an earlier chapter of this fic! Story Masterpost

3. Cream filled Sponge Cakes (with chemicals)

Bucky

They plan out what they’re going to do when they get to the hospital on the car ride over.

“I think it’s best if you wait outside at first,” Bucky says, glancing away from the road for a second to try and gauge Steve’s reaction to this. He looks neutral. “Just because she’s already pissed,” he adds. “And it’ll probably be overwhelming having one person telling her they’re taking custody, let alone two.”

“Yeah,” Steve agrees. “That makes sense.”

Bucky holds his hand out over the center console, waiting for Steve to take it. He does, and Bucky grips his hand tight. “I’ll get the initial stuff out of the way. I’m sure there’s gonna be a ton of paperwork.”

“What if she refuses?” Steve worries. “She can, right?”

Bucky sighs. “Yeah. I don’t have any legal hold on her. Yet. I’ll just have to try and talk sense into her, get her to see that we’re better than the alternative.”

Steve gives his hand a squeeze back. “You can do it.”

Bucky sighs. “I hope so. I really do.” Inside though, he’s already not so sure.

They get to the hospital about forty-five minutes after Bucky’d hung up from the phone call with the police officer. He spots a cruiser parked outside when they approach the emergency room, and it rankles his nerves to think of Mary being forcibly shoved into the back seat of said car.

He goes to the check in desk with Steve and asks for Officer Santiago. “I got a call about an involuntary hold. My submissive,” he says.

The woman at the desk does a double take at that, looking up and down Bucky where he stands like she’s just realized he’s a different species. “Oh,” she says. “You're one of those?”

Bucky ignores it, but he can sense Steve tensing up by his side, indignant on his behalf. “Yes,” he says. “I am.” He’s not going to waste time getting on his spiel about mental illness and stigmatization. They’ve got bigger problems right now. “I’m going to need her records,” he says, injecting authority into his tone. “And any paperwork for transfer of custody. The cops brought her in. Name’s Mary.” He shoves his hands in his pockets and tries to look self-assured while he waits, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if the woman demands a last name.

It takes her several minutes to gather everything up for Bucky. She hands it all over to him and says, “That’s the paperwork for custody. The attending physician should be able to provide you with her medical workup.” She points to a set of double doors. “You go down that hallway and to the left. Bed number four.”

Bucky nods and thanks her, then turns to Steve.

“I know,” Steve says, putting on a brave smile. “I’ll wait here.”

“Baby.” Bucky steps close, pulling him into his arms. Steve’s physically just a little bigger than him, and Bucky has always liked the novelty of that. He kisses him gently and then rests their foreheads together for a moment, letting Steve feel their connection. “I love you,” he says quietly. “You’re the best thing I could ever hope for, you know that?”

Steve’s smile is more natural, now. “Yeah I know it.” He gives Bucky another kiss and stands back. “Hey, what about this?” He knocks on Bucky’s shoulder—the metal one. “She know about that?”

Bucky realizes that he’s not wearing his glove, and tries to remember if he’d had it on at the café. He frowns. “Oh well. I don’t think that’s going to be her main focus, not after I explain everything to her.”

“Yeah.” Steve gives him a light push. “I Love you. Now on and get the hard part over with. I’ll be here when you need me.”

Bucky nods. He knows he will. He goes back to the check in desk, one last question on his mind. “Is there a food court or something around here?”

Mary

Mary’s taken a break from saying pissy things to the cop who’s guarding her. She’s been so angry, she’s felt like her skin’s boiling. But now she’s starting to get tired, too. She hadn’t slept last night, just stayed up and gabbed on the phone to that crisis counselor.

She grits her teeth as she fumes about that, feeling betrayed all over again. That bitch had called the cops on her!

“You can tell me anything you want to. I’m here to listen, remember?”

Liar!

“I hope you know I don’t have insurance,” Mary snaps at the officer. He’s sitting in a chair in her little curtained off area. He regards her coolly, saying nothing, and she jerks her head to indicate the emergency room. “And I’m not paying a single red cent for any of this.” So far, they’ve taken her blood, her pulse, an EKG, and sent in nurses, a resident, and several shrinks. They’d tried to put an IV in her but she’d ripped it out as soon as nobody was looking. “I’m suing the hospital,” she adds. “And you. I’m suing the whole police department.”

“Okay,” Santiago says, annoyingly calm.

Mary growls, rattling her hand where it’s cuffed to the bed rail. “This is unconstitutional!”

There’s the sound of a throat clearing, and then the curtain to their area is being pulled aside. Mary’s eyes go wide when she sees who it is. “You?!”

Bucky smiles politely at her. “Me.” He steps into the curtained room, a little snack bag in his hand. He holds it up to show her, and she sees the Hostess logo. It’s a bag of little … sponge cake pastries. “Best I could do on such short notice. They’re for you, if you behave,” he says, talking to her like a pet being offered a treat.

Mary wrinkles her nose. “Pass. D’you even know all the chemicals they put in those things?”

Bucky shrugs and turns to offer them to officer Santiago, who more than happily accepts. Mary pouts as she watches him rip open the bag and stuff one in his mouth.

“How are you doing, Mary?”

She turns her attention to Bucky and scowls at the way he uses her name like he knows her. “Awful,” she says. She jerks her head at Santiago. “Officer Dickwad over here won’t let me have my phone.”

“Language,” Santiago says dispassionately, through a mouthful of cake.

“Shut up and eat your fucking donut, Rent’a’cop.”

Bucky

He puts his foot down once she starts flinging curses and insults at the officer. As a paramedic, Steve is always in and out of emergency rooms, often working in coordination with law enforcement to deal with uncooperative patients. So Bucky knows just how much drama and belligerence these guys have to deal with on the regular.

“Hey,” he says sternly. “Don’t disrespect him. He’s just doing his job.” He’s not mean about it, but it’s verging on what Steve likes to call his “Dom” voice, and Bucky can see how it affects Mary. She freezes up, all of her focus on him. For a few seconds, she even forgets to be angry. Bucky takes the opportunity to step close to the bed. He eyes where she’s cuffed to the rail. “Mary,” he says gently. “I know you don’t want to be here. I know you’re angry.”

“You’re damn right I am,” she growls. “They just showed up and threw me in a cop car! Didn’t even give me a choice!”

Bucky reaches out and places his hand atop her cuffed wrist. It’s his metal hand. Her eyes widen when she sees it, but she doesn’t pull away. “I know,” Bucky says. “And I’m sorry it happened that way. But do you understand why people were concerned for your safety?”

Her face tenses up as she tries to hold back some emotion (something tells Bucky it isn’t anger, this time). “They called the cops,” she pouts. “They lied to me.”

“They did,” Bucky agrees, wanting to placate her. “But you were hurting yourself, honey. And you were talking about doing worse, weren’t you?”

She can’t meet his eyes, instead staring at where he’s holding her wrist. “I … I talked about a lot of things,” she mumbles. “It was just talk. I don't even remember half of it. I didn’t … I wasn’t really gonna do anything.”

“Can you show me where you hurt yourself?” Bucky asks, careful to keep his voice gentle. “I want to see how bad it is.”

Mary shivers, shaking her head sadly. Her hair is loose and hanging messy around her face, so Bucky reaches up to tuck it behind her ear. He hears her give a quiet, shaky inhale. “Come on now,” he coaxes. “Let me see.”

For a long moment, it seems like she won’t obey, but then her shoulders sink down and she takes a deep breath and lets it out, whispering a tiny little. “... kay,” as her hands creep down to take hold of the tee shirt she’s wearing. It’s extra large, going all the way to her knees, and it’s all she’s wearing. Bucky doesn’t know if the police brought her in that way, or if it’s something the hospital gave her to put on after being examined, but either way, he schools his expression as she edges the tee shirt up her leg, higher and higher, until it becomes apparent that she is wearing underwear, and she’s bared her hip to him.

Cutting, then.

Bucky looks her over, not as upset by the fresh cuts so much as the old ones. They litter the skin of her upper thigh and hip—some so old they’re scars, some still in various stages of healing. Bucky forces himself not to touch, even though his brain is screaming at him to fix fix fix! There’s nothing here that can be fixed easily—certainly not with a bandaid. Bucky takes a moment to calm himself down before he asks, “How long have you been doing this, honey?”

“I don’t want to talk about it,” she whispers. She shoves the tee shirt back down and meets his eyes. “Why are you here?”

Moment of truth, Bucky thinks. “The police called me. They got my number from your phone. They wanted to call your Dom to come get you.”

She frowns, looking confused. “But … you’re not—”

“Officer Santiago,” Bucky says quickly, cutting her off. “Could you give us a moment alone please?”

“Sure.” Santiago gets up and takes his bag of cakes with him. “Just a couple’a minutes,” he warns, then steps outside the curtain and pulls it shut. Bucky can see as his shoes walk away.

“You told them you were my Dom?!” Mary hisses.

Bucky looks at her sternly. “No. They assumed I was. You had me in your phone.”

“I … I did?”

Bucky’s mouth quirks. “Yeah, you did.”

“Well that doesn’t mean anything,” she huffs. “I’m not even submissive.”

“I think you know that’s not true,” Bucky says. He reaches up and gathers her hair back in one fist and pulls—gently, just enough to put the barest of pressure on her scalp—forcing her to raise her chin. She visibly reacts to it, softening into his grip, eyes slipping closed and features going slack. “You like that,” Bucky says, making it a statement rather than a question, because it’s obvious she does.

Her eyes open slowly. “S’nothing. It doesn’t mean anything.”

He releases her hair, cupping the back of her neck instead. He grips her firmly in his hand, and this time she nearly moans, lips parting and the sound coming out before she can fully stifle it. Bucky’s mouth curls and he hums. “And that? Is that ‘nothing’ too?”

“Please.” She’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact, which is typical. There’s a little pinch between her eyebrows that’s so sweet and needy, Bucky wants to kiss it. It makes her look like she might cry, and that thrills him too. “Please,” she whispers. “I just wanna go home.”

“You’re not going home, Honey,” he tells her, keeping the grip on her neck steady and petting at her hair with his other hand. She’s going down a little, likely so easily because of the alcohol in her system, because of how deprived she’s been until now. She whines a little at his words and he shushes her. “They won’t let you. You’re either gonna have to let me take you, or else stay here in the hospital, in the psych ward.”

Mary whimpers. “No.”

“Shhh,” he soothes. “I know. I don’t want that for you either, but you have to make the choice. If you want to leave here, then you have to sign the paperwork that gives me custody of you.” He tilts her chin up. “Look at me now, Honey.” She’s sluggish, so it takes a second, but her eyes come up as she obeys. They’re a little glossy, pupils blown wide, and Bucky gives her neck an encouraging squeeze. “Good girl,” he praises.

She practically melts at hearing that. “Please …” she says again.

Bucky would bet money that she doesn’t know what she’s asking for. He does, though. He knows down to the marrow of his bones what a ‘please’ like that means. “Don’t worry, Doll. I’ll take care of you. I will.” He bends and pecks a kiss to her forehead, then steps away. She makes a weak noise of protest and he shushes her.

“I’m just gonna go get officer Santiago back. … And my husband, Steve.”

She blinks at the word ‘husband’. “Steve?” she repeats, shoulders shrinking as she pulls into herself. “But—”

“It’s okay,” Bucky promises. “He’s a very nice man. You’ll like him.”

Mary looks unsure. Bucky’s glad she’s down, otherwise he’s fairly certain she’d be arguing by now, maybe even pitching a fit and cursing. Instead, what comes out of her mouth is a hesitant little, “... He’s like you?”

“No. No he’s not designated. He’s—”

“Normal.” She says it so sadly, sounds so demoralized. Bucky has to fight the urge to correct her, to give her a speech about how, ‘just because they’re designated, it doesn’t make them abnormal’. He bites his tongue. What’s more important right now is that she’s making progress in accepting the reality that she’s almost certainly submissive.

“Yeah,” he says. “Steve’s not like us. But I wanted him to come in here and meet you. Do you think you can do that for me, Sweetie?” The pet names come naturally, are a part of his dynamic as a Dom, and Bucky can tell that she responds favorably to them. “Hm? Answer me, Mary.”

(And of course, the use of her name gets instant attention and obedience.)

“Okay,” she says. “Yes.”

He smiles and gives her a heartfelt, “Good girl,” wanting to show her that he’s pleased, that she’s doing well. “I’m gonna go get him, okay? I’ll be right back.”

Steve

Steve is equal parts excited and nervous to meet the woman Bucky has found, the woman they’re going to be taking care of. … Maybe more, if things work out.

He holds Bucky’s hand as he’s led back to where the emergency room beds are. Bucky draws back the curtain and Steve sees the cop sitting there, looking bored, … and her.

“Oh,” he breathes. “Hey.”

She’s pretty—which is saying a lot, because that’s Steve’s first thought, despite the state of her. She’s got goo gobs of dark eye makeup that it looks like she put on once she was already drunk, and by now it’s been smeared to kingdom come by tears and her own hands. Her hair sits messy and unbrushed around her shoulders, and her eyes are glazed and tired from a high that’s probably going to wear off soon and leave her looking even more exhausted than she already does.

“Hey,” Steve says, eyes flicking up and down her body where she’s sitting on the bed. She’s wearing nothing but a big tee shirt, and Steve allows himself one glance down at her shapely legs, then resolutely keeps his eyes trained upwards. She’s a disheveled mess, but even like that, Steve can see how she drew Bucky’s attention, that day in the café.

“Hi,” Mary says.

Steve smiles hopefully. By his side, Bucky squeezes his hand in encouragement, and offers, “Mary, this is Steve, my husband.”

Steve watches her face, curious to know what she thinks of Bucky being married. He’s expecting displeasure maybe, imagining that a submissive would feel jealous or upset, if their prospective Dom was already attached to someone else.

But she seems to stay calm, sitting there and taking Steve in with slow blinks, even looking a little bit shy herself. “... You’re big,” she eventually says. “I thought you’d be smaller than him.”

Steve grins and he hears Bucky’s scoffed, “Size has nothing to do with our dynamic.”

Steve knows he’s got half an inch on Bucky, more muscle mass too, but he’s never felt bigger than his husband. Bucky’s personality, his dominance, is larger than Steve.

Mary’s still staring at him, a thoughtful little pinch between her eyebrows. Steve waits in expectation of a question, but none comes. “What?” he asks. He pulls up the room’s extra plastic chair and sits close to the bed, offering her his hand. He’s surprised when she takes it. Steve stares thoughtfully at his hand as she drags her fingers over his fingers, his palm, still not saying anything. He looks over at Bucky, concerned. “Did they give her drugs?”

Thankfully, Bucky chuckles and shakes his head. “She’s down,” he explains.

Oh. Okay. That’d explain her calm affect. Steve had come in here halfway expecting a screaming hellcat. He hadn’t expected this. He turns back to Mary, giving her a friendly look. “Did you have questions you wanted to ask me?”

She bites her lip, clearly working something out in her head. “Bucky said you two have a ‘dynamic’.”

“He did.”

“But he said you’re normal.”

Steve’s lips thin once he figures out what she means. “We’re all normal,” he scolds. “But no, I don’t have ‘Dominant or Submissive Personality Disorder’, if that’s what you mean.” He puts sarcastic quotes around words to clearly convey his distaste for the classification. He wants her to know how ridiculous he finds it.

“Babe,” Bucky warns quietly from behind. “We’re not getting political right now, okay? Just focus on her, on what we have to do.”

“Right, sorry.” He knows that Bucky’s right, so he tries again, telling Mary, “I’m ‘normal’, but Bucky and I still have a very intimate relationship together. We’re husbands. So yeah, we’ve developed our own dynamic. When I’m with him I tend to follow his lead, so to speak.” He smiles and shrugs. “It works for us.”

Mary looks like she’s thinking this new information over. There’s a slowness to her, a dreaminess in her expressions and her reactions.Steve figures it’s a combination of her being down, and not being sober. In fact, he can smell the vodka leaking out of her pores. It’s actually pretty horrible. “So does that make sense?” he prods her gently. “Mary?”

“… Yeah, I think so.” She eyes him up and down, looking back and forth between him and Bucky. “What will you do?” she asks Steve. She blushes a little from asking the question, so he deduces that she’s asking what he’ll do with her; what their dynamic together will be, outside of her and Bucky.

“I’ll take care of you,” he says, because that’s all he knows for sure, and he wants her to feel safe. Steve knows that it’s absolutely crucial for this woman to feel safe right now, if they’re going to take her home with them. “Bucky and I both will.” He holds her hand—the one that isn’t cuffed to the bed—enveloping it between his. “It’ll be much better than staying here,” he promises. “You’ll be so safe. And much happier.”

Mary’s body draws in, seems to actually get smaller as she pulls back into herself. “I’m never happy,” she says mournfully. It hurts Steve’s heart to see it, so he knows it must be killing Bucky, given his overly protective instincts. Steve glances over at him. “Babe?”

Bucky has a clipboard full of papers, which Steve knows must be the custody orders. “Here, Honey,” he tells Mary, handing her the clipboard and the pen. “This is what you have to sign to be able to come home with us.”

It kind of bothers Steve that Bucky doesn’t encourage her to read through the documents more thoroughly, but he doesn’t say anything because he knows they have only the best intentions for her. She’ll be safe with them. He watches as she signs her signature in the places Bucky points out, trying to scan some of the fine print as she goes. Anxiety is written across her face and she starts to bite at the chapped skin on her bottom lip. “But, um … what if I’m not what you think?” she worried, not looking at either of them.

Bucky pets her hair and reassures her. “You are, sweetheart. Trust me. And we’re gonna take you to a therapist anyway, to get an official diagnosis.”

Normally Steve would be scoffing at the word “diagnosis,” but he’s too busy watching the two of them together. There’s a strange feeling in his gut, at seeing his husband touch Mary like that, at hearing him call her pet names and calmly take control of her. Steve’s never seen Bucky dom another person before, and he … he kind of doesn’t hate it. In fact, it’s actually making him feel all the more attracted to Bucky, and curious about Mary. Like he wants to help, wants to get to know her.

She signs the rest of the documents without making a fuss, so Steve figures he’ll be getting that chance.

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thatlittleegyptologist · 8 months

Note

"stories with sex aren't emotionally impactful" what the fuck was that person on??? Like I get it's not for everyone, but sex can be an extremely emotionally intimate act between two people, I don't see how anyone can just write it off. And even then, 'horny' is an entirely valid emotion!!

ohhh it was an absolute riot. I posted the first chapter, which, by the way, has absolutely no sex in it whatsoever, not even a hint of it, and this person just waltzes into my comments section like:

and so I initially thought 'huh may be ace? ok cool, but this is in fact an E rated fic that fully says there'll be smut so...idk what you're doing here if you don't like that???'

So we had this little exchange wherein they told me that stories without smut were more emotionally impactful than those with it:

They didn't say anything after that, and they didn't comment on it again.

Several other commenters informed me that there's a couple of people within this fandom who...literally go to an E rated fic and either trash it for having smut or imply you're writing immoral/impure things and then come back to good ol' tungle.hell and talk shit about the author. I can only assume they're very young, because a) what? go outside, and b) I'm 34. If I want to write a fic about two characters in their 40s falling in love and having sex, alongside a bunch of other things...I'm gonna do it because I'm a grown ass adult, I pay taxes, and your opinion literally doesn't matter.

As it stands, this fic made multiple people cry and experience many other emotions, which I know because they commented and told me, so that commenter can go chew on some barbed wire!

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lincolndjarin · 9 months

Text

Best Kept Secret

chapter six : torment (RE-UPLOAD)

ao3 link ✿ series masterlist ✩ main masterlist ✧

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

rating : 18+ mdni

word count : 5.1k

summary : you confront the mandalorian

warnings, etc. : language, smut, vaginal fingering, p in v sex, teasing, lowkey brief orgasm denial, din djarin is a little shit, helmet stays on

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

Okay, maybe you didn’t think this through.

You didn’t think he’d actually come in and now suddenly the door is shut and you’re alone with him. You’re always alone with him, why is this any different than the days upon days you’ve spent together completely alone in the library?

Well… the library isn’t dimly lit.

And the library definitely doesn’t have a bed.

Why did you invite him in? What was the end goal with such a stupid and impulsive decision? What the hell did you want?

Him. That much is obvious, no point dancing around that fact anymore.

But it’s purely sexual.

Obviously.

Nothing else.

You’re friends. That’s it. You’re friends and sometimes you just so happen to have brief sexual fantasies about him. Can that really be considered cheating? Is it cheating if you didn’t want to be married in the first place? If you didn’t have a choice in the matter? If he’s a disgusting slob of a man?

It doesn’t matter because you aren’t going to do anything.

Then why did you invite him in?

Maker, you're an idiot.

A stupid, stupid horny idiot.

He’s just standing there. You should say something, but you waited too long and now it’s weird. This whole thing is weird. You invited him in as friends, you’re friends after all. You spend all day in the gardens together as friends, you read together in comfortable silence as friends, you hold each other intimately on the floor of empty hallways to reassure yourselves that the other is okay as friends, you think about him when you touch yourself as friends. Kriff you need to do something, you can’t just stand across from each other in silence. Do what feels natural, you’re friends, friends are comfortable around each other. What would you be doing if he wasn’t here? Get ready for bed.

You turn to the dresser to start looking for a night gown, but you can feel the way his visor is trained on you, burning into your skin, so you grab the first thing you can find, barely looking at it and tossing it on the bed. Finally turning to look at him.

“I’m just gonna change real quick…” You whisper it, no sense speaking any louder than that, you know he’ll hear it. He simply nods, turning to face the wall, it’s the first time he’s moved since he walked in.

You go to summon Elaine and Lysa but stop yourself. How the hell would you explain him being here this late? It isn’t worth the trouble, you can get out of a dress yourself.

Except you can’t.

You were wearing one of the overcomplicated blue gowns you wore on days where you saw Kodo and you’re struggling to undo the bodice.

Fuck.

This is fine. You’ll just stay in this until he leaves. When is he going to leave? Usually someone leaves when they are done doing what they came to do but with seemingly no objective here there’s no logical reason for him to leave.

“You can turn around.” Gods, you’re embarrassing. He doesn’t speak for a moment as he turns and stares at you.

“You’re stuck.” He says it so plainly that you know he’s certain that’s the case. You wish he would make fun of you. This would be so much easier if he was taunting you, like he usually was. You could hate him and send him away. But it’s getting harder to hate him by the minute.

“It’s fine.”

“I could help?” It’s a question. He doesn’t often ask for permission with you. But he won’t do this without your permission. Why should he need permission, this is innocent enough, he’s just helping you out.

Friends help each other. That’s what they do. So you turn around so he can unlace it for you. And he’s on you before you have a chance to move somewhere else, anywhere else, but it’s too late. Without even realizing it you’ve put the two of you in front of the mirror. Well at least it can’t get worse than this.

But it does.

Because he takes off the gloves. And you can see his hands as he gives them to you to hold. Tan, calloused, littered with scars. You only get a glimpse, but it’s enough for you to realize that the hands you imagined him having don’t compare to the real thing. They’re big, you could tell that from the gloves but you hadn’t expected them to be so defined. You could write a million stupid romance novels about the vast ridges of his knuckles, or the veins that spread across them.

Maker you’re so fucked.

You can feel the dress loosening as he meticulously pulls each ribbon free, you wish it were possible to watch him do it. Instead you’re stuck staring at your stupid dumbfounded expression in the mirror, intently observing him until he finishes and immediately steps back and turns around.

You wish he had taken his time.

But you quickly slip out of the dress and don the nightgown on the bed. For Makers sake could you have grabbed a skimpier outfit? It’s practically lingerie. You reach for the silk robe hanging on the mirror and try to make yourself look as covered as possible.

“I’m decent.” You hate how small your voice sounds. He turns again and you give him his gloves back, drinking in one final glimpse of his hands.

You need to talk about what happened. Just get it out of the way.

“We should talk about it.” You take a step towards him but he flinches back, just a hair. It’s off putting to watch such an imposing man react like that so you stop dead in your tracks.

“Nothing happened.” It’s gut-wrenching to hear his voice sounding so strained. It took weeks for him to warm up to you and in an instant he had put those walls back up.

“Don’t do that.” Gods, at least try to sound less like a wounded little girl.

“I’m not doing anything.” You want to rip that stupid modulator out of his helmet for making his voice sound so cold.

“So I’m just supposed to pretend like you weren’t hyperventilating on the floor a few minutes ago?” The sympathy you had for him is rapidly depleting as you take another step towards him, trying not to raise your voice.

“Yes. That is exactly what you’re going to do.”

“No.”

“No?” The anger in his voice is palpable. Good. You want him to get fired up, you want to fight about this because at least you’ll be talking about it.

“No. We aren’t going to ignore this, we are going to have a conversation about it because you scared the hell out of me.” He scoffs, it’s sharp coming through the filter.

“You’re fine.” He crosses his arms in front of his chest.

It’s like the night you met. He’s standing in the middle of the room. A cold, unmoving statue of Beskar, and you, the scared little girl, charting unfamiliar waters.

“ You weren’t.” You furrow your brows as you say it. The visor is trained on you but you’re sure he isn’t looking at you. “You couldn’t even move. It was like you couldn’t see me and I was right in front of you.” The chill that runs down your spine lets you know that he’s looking at you now that you’ve said that. He takes a long stride towards you and you hold your ground, tilting your head up to keep your eyes on his helmet.

“Why are we still talking about this?” His voice is so low it’s practically a rumble.

“Because we’re friends and friends talk about these things!”

“We aren’t friends.”

Ouch.

Well you should have seen that coming. Of course he wasn’t your friend, you can’t believe you were naive to ever think that he would be, he was probably just humoring you. Now you’re the one who can’t look at him as you stare at the floor, feeling like a child who’s just been scolded.

“Of course we aren’t.” You wish you didn’t sound so bitter, as he sighs loudly.

“Come on, don’t just stand there and pout at me, you knew we weren’t friends. We can’t be.” The contempt in his voice cuts deep.

“Fuck you. Get out.” You start walking in the direction of the closet but he grabs your arm before you can get there.

“Don’t do that.” His tone is a little gentler but it does nothing to sway your temper, shoving him off of you.

“Why not. You’re right. We aren’t friends, I’m just the ditzy little princess you’re charged with watching, I don’t know why I ever thought you actually might care about me.” You’re trying not to cry at this point as you throw your hands up in defeat. “Is that what you wanted to hear? You were right. I was wrong. You win Mando, was that little episode in the hallway just now an act to get me to this point? If so you’re a fantastic actor, really had me going. I almost thought you actually gave a shit about me.” You turn sharply to open the closet door, wanting nothing more than to retreat to your pile of blankets but his large hand lands just next to your head slamming it shut. He raises his other hand so they’re boxing you in, he towers over and you scowl, your faces inches from each other now.

“Why did you invite me in?” The crackle of the filter is low and it makes you want to tear the whole helmet from his head and slap him. And maybe do a few other things while it’s off.

“I want you to leave.”

“No you don’t”

“I hate you.”

“Is that what you tell yourself to make all of this okay?”

Smoke. Metal. Fresh Linen.

“I hate you.” The back of your head is against the closet door as you take a step back, he leans down, closer to you, your forehead is practically touching Beskar.

“That’s what I tell myself to justify it all.” Gods, why do you wish you could feel his breath on your face? “So why did you invite me in, sarad’ika?” Your knees buckle slightly and his hands fly to your waist to support you. When you don’t respond he leans just an inch closer, your breath is fogging up the steel of his helmet now. “Say it again.”

“I hate you.” It’s practically a squeak as you say it this time. He hums softly in response.

“I can’t stand you.” He murmurs. “It’s like you were put on this planet to make me suffer .” His hands put the slightest bit of pressure on your hips to accentuate the end of his sentence.

“Do I really bother you that much? What have I done to you that is truly that terrible?” You do everything in your power to make it sound cold and harsh but your voice still trembles.

“Don’t play dumb cyar’ika. Don’t act like you don’t know what you do to me.” The words are labored as you savor the heat coming off of his body. “The way you torment me.” He’s practically snarling.

“I have no idea what you mean.” Of course you do. As you gingerly bring your hands up to rest on his chestplate, trying to put a distance between the two of you uselessly. You know exactly what he’s talking about because it's exactly how you feel everytime you stare into the cold and unforgiving steel of his visor. The misery of absolutely loathing a person purely because you cannot have them, because you cannot escape them. Because it’s not just that he’s always physically there, he’s there when you close your eyes and when you sleep, he lives in brain, there is nothing you can do to get rid of him. To free yourself of the brand he has burned deep into your psyche.

That can’t be what he means though.

“Why do you do it? Hmm?” He brings the helmet down to rest against your cheek, you can feel the vibration when he hums, the sensation has you arching your back before you can stop yourself but thankfully his grip holds you in place against the door.

“Do what?” You groan softly, he squeezes your waist tighter.

“ This.” He grunts. “You do all of this. You wear that green dress, read those dirty books right in front of me, for fucks sake look at you. You invited me in and you put on this?” His fingers yank at the loose hanging fabric on your hips. “ This pretty little black slip of lace? You must truly despise me to put me through this lovely little bit of torture…”

“I don’t do those things for you.” You manage to spit out. It’s sort of true, you don’t entirely do those things for him, sometimes they just happen by accident.

One of his gloved hands comes up to grip your chin. “Don’t even get me started on this filthy mouth of yours, the way you talk to me sarad, when you insult me, berate me, all I can think about is how I could make this pretty mouth talk so sweet, make you beg and whine just for me, never talk back to me again.”

Maker this isn’t real, it can’t be. You must have fallen asleep again, but he feels so solid, and palpable, and the wetness pooling between your legs certainly felt real. You’re speechless at this point as you just let out a little whimper that has him chuckling softly.

“Is that really all I had to do to make you behave? Whisper vulgar things into your ear? If I had known all you wanted was a little attention I would have done this the day I met you mesh’la. Is this what you want? I need to hear you say it.” He’s sweetened immediately and it’s making your head spin. You need to think clearly, be realistic, you can’t do this. No matter how badly you want this.

But right now it’s hard to do much of anything besides lightly scratch at his chestplate and whimper.

“Tell me to leave right now. I’ll do it, I’ll hop on the first transport ship off planet and you’ll never see me again.” You know he’s serious. He could easily do whatever he wanted with you in this position but you know him, and you know if you don’t explicitly ask for it he won’t go further than this. Why is this so hard? You know what you need to do, you need to tell him to leave, to get as far away from you as possible but you know that it would never be far enough. There is nowhere he could go that would free you from this agony .

“W-we can’t do this.” You manage to stutter out, your eyes are squeezed shut at this point, just trying to stop any more noises from slipping out.

“Then tell me to leave.” He says it almost like it’s what he really wants, that he knows, just like you do, that there’s no coming back from this.

“I hate you. Every part” Stars, why can’t you just tell him to go?

“I know you do cyar’ika.”

Your heart is pounding in your chest, he can probably hear it. You need to convince him that you can’t do this, because you know you can’t stop yourself, it has to be him.

“Do you know what would happen if we were caught?” You breathe out, grabbing the sides of his helmet to pull him back slightly so you can stare into the thin black line.

“I know.”

“They’d hang us both.”

“They’d hang me.”

You know he’s right. They’d be substantially worse to him, you’d most likely just be locked away until it was time to produce an heir.

“They’d hang you.” You whisper.

“The moment anyone found out I would be swarmed by guards. They’d lock me up and throw away the key.” His grip on your waist tightens ever so slightly

“They’d do worse than that.” For fucks sake, everything you’re saying is true and you know it, why isn’t this making either of you stop.

“They’d torture me.” He says it so plainly, like it doesn’t bother him in the slightest.

“They’d torture you.”

“They’d cut out my tongue if they knew what I wanted to do to you.” Then why does he sound like he doesn’t care?

“Then don’t do it, it isn’t worth it.”

“I could do most of it without a tongue.”

“I’d miss your tongue.” You need to stop.

“Would you?”

“I would.” You would.

“I thought you hated my tongue. Every part of me .”

“I do. But it would be a shame for them to cut it out before I get to put it to good use.”

“Don’t talk to me like that.” Maker, did he just growl?

“You don’t like it?”

“You’re supposed to be telling me to leave. Keep talking like that and I won’t be able to stop myself.”

“Then don’t stop yourself.”

“Tell me to leave sarad’ika.”

“Stay.”

And that’s all it takes. He hauls you over his shoulder and before you can even process what’s happening you’re being thrown down on the bed. He’s hastily removing things, buckles and belts, tossing them aside with his gloves as he pulls his cowl over his helmet, letting his cape fall to the floor as he drops the pack on top of it, you can’t help it as you reach up and grab the edge of his chestplate pulling him closer.

“Don’t bother, can’t wait.” Is all you say as you trace your fingertips across his now exposed neck, you can work around the flight suit and armor. His now bare hands find your waist again, this time tearing the fabric to shreds as he rips the negligee off of you, tossing the scraps to the side. You don’t have time to feel embarrassed about your bare chest being exposed to him now as his hands found the hem of your panties.

“Do you need these?” He says breathlessly, his visor keeps moving ever so slightly across your body like he doesn’t know where to look as you shake your head no.

“I have plenty of others.” That’s all he needs to hear before those are ripped to shreds too and he’s crawling onto the bed to hover above you, his hands slide under your thighs to scooch you upwards so his head is closer to your stomach. He wastes no time as he pushes your legs up to bend your knees so he can access all of you. You can hear the soft gasps from the modulator.

“Sarad… bid mesh’la.” One of his hands presses to your inner thigh as he spreads your legs wider for him, his other hand moves up to swipe two fingers through your folds. “Cuyir ibic an par ni?” It’s like he’s talking to himself as he holds them up so you can see how wet they are. Your face turns red at the sight. “Is this all for me sarad?” You put your hands over your face sheepishly as you nod, you barely register the sound of air hissing as you peek through your fingers just long enough to watch as he slips his hand under his helmet to suck his fingers clean, letting out a low breathy moan.

Maker, you don’t stand a chance.

“Fuck, Mando, quit stalling.” You whine out, bringing your own hand between your legs in an attempt to relieve some of the pressure that’s building there. One of his hands gently grabs your wrists, effortlessly pinning them above your head as he clicks his tongue.

“Needly little thing.” He chuckles as his other hand traces down your body, stopping to palm your breast, going between them as you whined, squirming under his grasp, there’s got to be a wet spot on the sheets already as he continues to taunt you, lazily rolling one of your nipples between his fingers. “So pretty mesh’la. I knew you’d be so perfect, smooth and soft under my hands.” He pinches the nipple he was playing with making you squeal. “You have to be quiet sarad. Can you do that for me?” He rubs circles over your tit with his thumb, soothing the ache as you nod. “Good girl.” You can practically hear the grin on his face as you flush red at the praise. He releases your wrists as he brings both hands down across your chest now, following the blush before finally one of his hands dips between your thighs.

“Please Mando…” You whisper as your hands grip the sheets. His fingers massaging your inner thigh, deliberately avoiding your core.

“Please what, princess?” Maker, he sounds so smug.

“Gods, I hate you.” You squirm uselessly underneath him, not bothering to try and touch yourself, you know he’d stop you. His gravely laugh seeps out of the modulator.

“I like you like this, my little star flower.” One of his hands smacks your thigh, it isn’t that hard but you still have to bite back a moan. “I wish I'd known how easy it was to make you behave. I’d have bent you over and done this weeks ago if I knew it would have the effect on you.”

“Maker, are you going to touch me or are you going to just talk all night Mand-” Your voice catches in your throat as he slides two fingers into you without warning. Your back arching off the mattress until his other hand rests on your lower stomach, pushing you back down. He hums as he slowly draws them out before driving them back home forcing a choked out groan from you. You were right, he does feel better than your own fingers as he slowly and deliberately fucks you with his hand, his helmet moving back and forth to watch his digits slip in and out of you to your face as you bring a hand to your mouth to try and quiet the obscene noises that start slipping out.

“Maybe next time you mouth off to me I’ll just do this, would you like that?”

Overconfident son of a bitch.

You’re having a hard time thinking of a witty comeback and when you don’t respond he hums softly, curling his fingers to hit that spot that makes you see stars.

“Naughty. Speak up princess.” The warm drawl of his voice is suffocating as he curls his fingers again, your body trying desperately to writhe at the sensation but his other hand keeps you held in this position. “Use your words. I know you can, you’re always so mouthy” His tone is mocking as he curls his fingers again ruthlessly and your other hand flies down to his wrist.

“Yes.” You manage to yelp you as he withdrawals his fingers and you whine softly at the feeling, trying to keep hold on his wrist to bring him back against you. He tuts as he brings the hand to his pants as he unzips the flightsuit and you sit up on your elbows to get a good look as his cock springs free. He lazily strokes himself, using your slick as a lubricant, his visor trained on your face as you let out a small gasp.

Of course he’s so arrogant. With a dick like that anyone would be, he’s bigger than anyone you’ve ever seen and just generally nice to look at. You didn’t even know it was possible to have such an attractive cock. It’s hefty, thick, veiny like his hands, the tip is such a pretty shade of pink as he swipes his thumb across the beads of pre-cum that spill out, drawing a sharp inhale from him. He leans forward slightly and slides the head through your folds making you fall back onto the bed, your head sinking into the mattress as you whine. You’re waiting for the delicious sting of him pushing in but of course he doesn’t. You lift your eyes to stare into the visor, he’s looking at you expectantly, you can virtually see the smirk on his face.

“Be a good girl, princess. You know what I want.” He rubs the tip against your neglected clit and you cry out softly, reaching up to grip his shoulders.

“You’re such an ass.” You manage to gasp out as you try to hook a leg around his waist to pull him against you but of course he’s able to stay exactly where he is as he continues to leisurely stroke himself, bumping the head of his cock against your clit every so often, watching as you squirm. After a few moments of watching you wriggle under him he pulls back ever so slightly causing you to whine, leaning forward to grab his arms, uselessly pulling him back towards you.

“I thought you didn’t want it?” He says in that stupid condescending tone. Even now he’s insufferable but you can’t help it, you’re so worked up at this point you’ll do damn near anything to get him inside you.

“Please.” You whine softly. He hesitates before he leans back down, one hand gripping your hips as his other lines himself up with your entrance. Your hands squeeze his shoulders, trying to get any sort of leverage to force him into you.

“Please what sarad?” He tilts his head ever so slightly to the left.

Oh you’re gonna kill him.

After.

“Please, for Makers sake just fuck me already.” You groan out, you only get to roll your eyes for a second before he snaps his hips forward, pushing himself only halfway into you but the stretch is immense as you scratch into his arms, whining loudly, the dull pain is worth it though as he brings his helmet down against the mattress next to yours so you can hear the guttural moan that falls from the modulator. Both his hands are on your hips now as he digs his fingers into the skin, trying to steady himself, you’re definitely gonna have bruises. He lies breathlessly on top of you for a few moments before he speaks again.

“Are you okay mesh’la? Are you okay if I move?” His voice is tense and you can hear him panting, you’re surprised you don’t cum right then and there as you nod against his shoulder, your nails scratching at his back now to stabilize yourself.

“Yes, please, please Mando” You breathlessly mumble, shifting your hips slightly, wincing as you take a bit more of him and that’s all the permission he needs to grab your hips and gradually pull you down on to his length. By the time he’s fully inside of you you’re a whining mess.

Who needs dignity? Not you. Not when you can hear the Mandalorian groaning in your ear, mumbling incoherently in Mando’a to himself as his cock twitches inside you.

He isn’t moving, you know he’s trying to catch his breath but Maker he feels so good and you don’t feel like waiting so you gingerly pry one of his hands off of your waist and guide it down between your legs, that seems to bring him back to reality as he starts rubbing small circles against your clit which has you keening immediately. He still doesn’t move inside of you as he intently watches you gasping and moaning, you shut your eyes tight as he brushes his fingertips slowly across your swollen bud.

Of course he’s him so he doesn’t let you enjoy it for long because once you’re thrashing underneath him because you’re so close he draws his hand back and you breathlessly grab his wrist.

“Don’t you dare.” You give him as stern a look as you can but it sounds more like a plea. That gets a small laugh from him as he ever so slightly pulls out before slamming himself back into you, watching as your mouth falls open in a silent scream.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He chuckles as he repeats the motion, pulling out ever so slightly before fully sheathing himself once more, you’re seeing stars again.

“If you don't put your kriffing hand back between my legs I won’t ever let you do this again.” You try to scowl at him but all it takes is another snap of his hips before you’ve lost all your resolve. He finally picks up the pace, slamming his hips against yours, the thrusts growing brutal as he unravels you to nothing but whimpers as you claw uselessly at his shoulders. You’re pathetically whining now, it’s unfair how easily he’s able to get you there. It’s almost like he knows how close you are as he lets out a small groan when you clench around him, his hips stuttering slightly.

“Ask nicely, princess.” He grunts out as he picks up the punishing pace once more. “Use your manners and I’ll give you whatever you want.” He growls as he brings his hands to your thighs to force them against your stomach, letting him push into you deeper. The feeling makes your head spin, the knot in your stomach tightens immediately as you let out a high pitched whine.

“Please… for fucks sake, let me cum or I’m gonna rip your stupid perfect cock off the second we’re done.” You manage to grunt out through gritted teeth. He chuckles breathlessly as he brings his hand back to your clit, pressing rough and rapid circles against it.

“We’ll work on that.” He laughs softly as you can feel yourself rapidly slipping back towards that edge and before you know it you’re right there again. He doesn’t let up on his ruthless motions this time as you finally reach your peak.

You’re loud.

Probably too loud.

But Maker, he loves it. It’s like it’s fueling him because he’s chanting your name and mumbling in Mando’a again as his thrusts grow sloppy and you manage to open your eyes just in time to watch him pull out and frantically stroke himself as he cums with a low growl, his other hand locked around your thigh as he shoots his load onto your stomach.

It’s oddly gratifying to watch as he writhes, kneeling over you as his chest heaves. Collapsing down next to you once he’s finished, gasping for air. A nice reminder that under all the talk he is still just a man. Your man.

Nope. Nope. Nope.

You fucking idiot. That’s not what this was. This was…

Shit what was this?

Casual sex.

Friends with benefits.

You can’t just have sex one time and start calling him your man are you crazy? You’re still married.

Fuck. You’re married.

You turn your head slightly to look at him.

If you didn’t know what to say to him an hour ago you definitely don’t know what to say to him now.

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