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monsteronfire · 3 years

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Fishing for a Star

type;; One-shot (6.4K words)

pairing(s);; fratboy!JK x older!Reader/OC

genre;; Slice of Life, Smut, College AU

warnings;; Drinking, oral (male receiving), shy!Koo, sub!Koo, slightly dom!Reader/OC, Yoongi being a dumbass voyeur, both parties pining for each other like idiots

a/n;; I feel like it’s been a motherfuckin’ year since I’ve written and posted anything. I honestly started this thing probably a year ago. I just really love the chill college parties trope. Might add more to this, but unlikely. Enjoy my pain as I cry over JK in leather.

edit;; Totally forgot to put a read more tag on here, sorry y’all. I even told myself to fucking do it right as I started the post. Also the pic isn’t mine, got it off Google.

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“Please tell me that’s not what you’re wearing.”

You step out of the way for your housemate, the hoodie you’d picked out momentarily blinding you while you pulled it over your head.

“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t be putting it on.” You say, finally getting it over your head and shaking the hair out of your face. You blink at her half-way-to-getting-ready state, noting in the back of your head how good she looks even now. Her hair is done, wavy and a little disheveled. The shine of the dark strands makes you want to run your fingers through them, knowing they will be soft. Her makeup is half done and she’s dressed only in her underwear, but she’s beautiful all the same. You can tell she’s planning to doll herself up tonight and why shouldn’t she? It’s one of the biggest frat parties of the year and with it being her last year, she’s aiming to have a good time.

“This is a party, (Y/N). At least try and look a little slutty.”

You snort and grin a little, watching her pop her hip out while she eyes you.

“Why is that, baby?” You reply, reaching up to pull a couple of strands of her hair back into place fondly.

“I plan to get laid tonight. I expect you to too, babe.” She snaps, swatting your hand away.

“Sorry, sexy. I’m fishing for something special tonight and it doesn’t require the slutty look.”

“Oh god, not again.”

“What?” You question, turning back to the full length mirror and carding your fingers through your own hair to fix it.

“You’ve been after this boy for three years, (Y/N). He’s got you wrapped around his finger.” She states, walking away from you and back into the bathroom. You’re still smiling when you check one final time to make sure the jeans you’re wearing make your ass look great before leaning against the door frame.

“That was my plan from the beginning. Now I just need to wrap him around mine.”

She snorts, leaning over the sink and closer to the mirror.

“I said three years, didn’t I? If you haven’t bagged him yet, you won’t.”

You pout at her, but are undeterred. You know what kind of person he is and you’re well aware of how much work he had and will continue to take. You could tell he was not a one and done from the first moment you saw him. He would take time, a lot of it and you were willing to put it all in.

“You know how stubborn I can be.” You chuckle at her. She rolls her eyes, but smirks none the less. She knows she can’t say a word to change your mind.

“Whatever. If I catch you two together, I’m telling him to fuck you already.”

You laugh as you walk away, working on gathering what you’ll want to take to the party.

“You sure I’ll even be allowed at this thing?!”

“Are you kidding?! Everyone is invited to this party. The doors are left open so anyone can just fucking walk in off the street!”

You chuckle, grabbing your bag and stuffing your wallet in it. You’d graduated a couple years ago and while most of the seniors would know you, you sometimes felt weird hanging out at a party in the college you’d already graduated from. A girl has to do what she has to do when a baby boy is on the line, though.

And a baby boy he was.

“Jae!”

You smile as you and your friend enter the large, old house. The lighting is dim, the music is thumping and all you can smell is alcohol, sex and sweat. There’s noise all around you, but you and your friend weave through the crowd easily. Nearly everyone greets you as you two pass, guys high-fiving you and girls giggling and touching your arms. You bounce to the music as you follow her, the two of you making your way past the front stairs and down the hall. You make a pit stop in the kitchen- Jae grabbing the classic Solo cup and you pulling a bottle of beer from a cooler full of ice- before heading out onto the back deck.

The backyard is just as crowded as the house, people in the pool, people in the gazebo and people littering about the yard and deck. There’s a large bonfire near the back of the yard and a couple other smaller fire pits in random spots. One of them is up on the deck in a small metal pit, the warm flames surrounded by the very reason you and Jae came tonight.

“There’s our girls!” Namjoon shouts, lifting his can and drawing the attention of the seven other guys around him to you two. Taehyung, Hoseok and Jin all shout in unison as they spot you, Tae standing and pressing a sloppy kiss to your friend’s cheek. Yoongi and Namjoon lift their hands as you get closer and you reach out to slap each one. Jimin stands to press little pecks to first your cheek and then Jae’s. You all greet each other quietly before Jae slides herself into her target’s lap. She’s been after Jin all year and you haven’t been the only person sitting back to watch their game of cat and mouse. Jin is practically an expert at flirting just enough to keep her hooked without giving her what she really wants.

To be young and in lust.

Your eyes finally find the last member of the group, his silence keeping him out of spotlight unless he’s being searched for. He’s already looking at you when you spot him and his eyes dart down to his shoes while he shuffles behind Yoongi and Jimin. He can only keep his eyes off you for a moment before they find yours and he’s trapped. You smile softly at him, taking delight in how his eyes widen a fraction and his pupils grow. He’s holding a Solo cup, the rings on his fingers glinting in the firelight as he deftly squeezes them a bit tighter. He looks good tonight, his dark hair pushed back away from his forehead to show his strong brow. He’s dressed in all black, black t-shirt tucked into black jeans, black boots and to top it all off a leather jacket. He definitely pulled all the stops on you tonight and you have to make a conscious effort not to drool when you stare at him. He looks like a badass and you know every other girl in this joint sees him the same way, but you know the truth.

“Uh-oh,” Jae mumbles into Jin’s ear.

“She’s spotted her target and is locked on.”

You don’t bother listening to her, instead creeping closer to the object of your desire.

“Hey, Jungkookie,” You murmur quietly to him, leaning in a bit closer, but not too close. You had to be very meticulous with him.

“Hey, noona,” he responds shyly and the whole circle of friends is a sniggering mess for a moment. Pink begin’s to dust his cheeks, but you spare him a little and turn to flick Jimin in the back of the head.

“You lot are pretty curious tonight. Weren’t you all having a conversation before we came up?”

They all snigger some more, but quickly go back to bullshitting around the fire, leaving you and Jungkook in peace. You take another step closer to him, half expecting him to maintain the distance between you, but he remains still and lets you get closer. Threes years it’s taken you to get even this close to him, his overtly shy and sweet demeanor keeping him just out of reach of your darker, more corrupted hands.

“You look good tonight,” you comment and his blush darkens in the firelight. He thanks you almost too quietly, quickly bringing the cup of beer he’s holding to his lips to distract himself somehow and it has you chuckling lowly at him. He looks away from you, avoiding your eyes and you can’t stop the fiendish grin on your lips. You finally give him some respite, turning away from him to join in on the random conversation that the group is sharing around the small fire pit.

Finally…

He get’s his chance and takes it without a second thought. He spent years hesitating in such small matters and found himself either missing out or always caught if he didn’t take the chance when it was presented to him. So he learned. Now when you have those few precious moments where your focus is not on him- where you are off guard for just a beat- he gets to watch you instead. Watch the way your eyes glow in the firelight, or the way your hair just barely shifts as a warm breeze lazes by. He takes in your simple outfit, jeans and a sweatshirt. Nothing like the rest of the girls at every party he’s ever been to. Your smile moves your whole face, your cheeks rising, you lips splitting and even your eyes squinting shut as you tease Taehyung. His lips quirk a little on their own when he notices that your ears shift a little when you smile as well.

Your lashes are long even without makeup, so much so that the first time he’d ever met you he could have sworn they were fake. But then he caught you tugging on them one afternoon while you told old stories with Namjoon. You did it regularly and had told him you could feel the dead ones coming out, you wanted to get them before they fell into your eyes. A quirk he’d logged away to keep safe for the rest of eternity. The beer in your one hand shifts to the other, the rings on your fingers clinking just loud enough for him to hear over Hoseok’s shouting. A hobby of sorts you shared with Jimin. You two wore the same ring size and often went shopping for new ones together, even swapping every now and again. The free hand moves about in the air as you speak and Jungkook thinks it almost weird now to see someone talk without gesturing with their hands so much. How did one truly immerse another in their words if they didn’t show them how it felt as well? When you were angry- fuming for either your own hardships or for those of a friend- you pointed a lot, your head shaking and your hands slicing through the air to signal how done you were. When you told stories of your adventures with the oldest members of his brothers your hands where always in the air; swiping, rolling, falling and twisting. You painted such a picture with only the movement of your hands when you spoke. They weren’t really dainty, your palms wide and your fingers not very long, but they fit perfectly with his hands. A fact that amazes him, but that he’s grown rather fond of. When you laugh, it’s loud. Not soft, not like the twinkling of bells, but like a song. Loud, but still beautiful and it can range from joyous mirth to deep and rich fondness, the type of feeling that fills your chest with warmth and adoration. That’s the laugh he enjoys the most, that deep chuckle. The one you give to him quietly so just the two of you can hear it.

He wants you. He was confused at first, for a long time. Scared of your mature age compared to him and your strength. He always sees you as strong, even if you don’t think so yourself. You always make him nervous, unsure if he is really worthy of the sweet attention you give him. The quiet whispers just between the two of you, the soft touches, the adoring look in your eyes. He fears all your attention, but he can’t deny now that he wants it- needs it. He can’t go a day without it.

The party winds down and you are delighted at the sight of mattresses being brought down and strewn haphazardly across the floor in their living room. When Jungkook finally picks his spot you waste no time in shuffling closer to his mattress. Normally you would keep your distance, allowing him his comfort of solitude to sleep, but you’ve already allowed him plenty of his liberties tonight. You will get something out of this evening if not a simple kiss in the dark. He shocks you by saying nothing as you lay down, your eyes just catching a glimpse of Jae and Jin heading upstairs. Probably to his room to finally earn what she’s worked so hard for. She quickly casts you a thumbs up, a large grin on her face as she tries to keep it unnoticed by anyone else in the room. You return the gesture and chuckle, groaning a bit when you body finally hits the not so comfortable springs. You take a moment to sigh before opening your eyes again and focusing them on the object of your desires.

He’s staring right back at you and your breath catches in your throat, lost in the sea of stars in his eyes. They’re wide and shining, staring so intently at you that you almost don’t take notice to the shine of his lips. Like he’s just licked them a few times. Even in the dim light of the moon that filters in through the windows and the very few lights in the house on you can see them glisten, and your eyes are torn between them and his shining eyes. He looks like a lost puppy staring at you, but there’s more in his eyes. He looks in awe, almost afraid and- dare you say it- a little eager. Like he wants something to happen, but it scares him and that thought alone drives straight to your core. A fire alights inside you and suddenly you’re staring back at him with equally wide eyes, your bottom lip trapped between your teeth. The action immediately draws his large eyes to your mouth and fuck if you don’t almost groan when his tongue pokes out to lick nervously over his lips again.

His mouth parts ever so slightly and you swear you can hear him panting a little over the din of people ambling to where they plan to sleep. Someone plops down directly behind you, their back hitting yours as they shift to get comfortable. You’re right on the edge of the mattress, so this person has to be hanging off the one they’re laying on to be this close to you. And by the feel of how broad their shoulders are it’s definitely a man. Your eyes narrow and you almost growl when Jungkook stiffens in front of you and the man knocks against you again. Your head turns just enough to spot the thin, white shirt he’s wearing stretch over one shoulder before you’re shoving back with your elbow. He grunts when you dig into his back, but says nothing else, only leaning away from the discomfort. He’s clearly wasted. Still, he’s too close to you and taking the great opportunity presented before you, you scoot closer to the apple of your eye. He doesn’t shy away and it takes all your effort not to reach out to him when you finally focus back on him.

“Sorry,” you whisper, scooting just a tiny bit closer than you really need to. He shakes his head quietly, mumbling out an ‘it’s okay’ while his body leans closer to yours. God you want to ravage this sweet boy. It’s practically making your heart explode with how cute he’s being right now. He’d looked away in his response, but when he looks back to you he’s dragging his lip through his teeth and you really can’t take it. Again you two are lost in your own little world as you stare at each other.

“Jungkookie… you’re not being very nice to me right now.”

His eyes widen even further- if that’s even possible- and he looks almost stricken at the comment.

“What?” He manages to almost whimper out and you just can’t stop yourself from scooting even closer to him.

“You’re looking at me so sweetly, baby. How am I supposed to play nice with you tonight if you keep staring at me like that?”

You don’t know where all this confidence is coming from. Granted you’ve always been a bit more confident than the young man in front of you, but even still, you never thought you’d get to a degree where you were saying such flirtatious things in such a dominant tone to him.

“Play… nice?”

The glint changes in your eyes and Jungkook visibly shutters at the sight. Your eyes had been so deep and full of adoration just a moment ago, now all he sees is greed and lust. It makes his already hard cock twitch in his pants. Gods he’s been hard from the moment you called him that nickname- Jungkookie. He generally doesn’t like anyone, but the guys saying it. But every time you say it…

He’s almost scared to feel how excited he’s getting every time you scoot a little bit closer. He doesn’t want you to stop. Not until your body is finally pressed to his and he can hold you so tight, and never let go. He’d hoped something would have happened between you two before tonight, but he was always so scared and you were always so cautious with him. He just wants you to ravage him already. He’s dreamed about it practically every night, it might as well happen already.

“Stop,” you suddenly say and he can feel your fingers on his chin, pulling his lip from between his teeth.

“If you lick or bite your lips one more time,” you have to take a moment to calm yourself before continuing, “… I don’t think I’ll be able to stop myself.”

He throbs in his jeans and when he locks eyes with you he’s lost. He doesn’t want you to stop, he realizes that now after feeling your fingers touch his skin. Fire ignites where they trace from his chin and along his jaw. He trembles beneath your touch and you can feel it. Oh you can feel it. You do the opposite of what you just told him, biting your lip to draw his eyes to them again as you two gravitate ever closer.

“Unless you don’t want me to.”

He doesn’t speak, he feels like he doesn’t know how to in that moment. He doesn’t trust himself to anyway, so he does the next best thing. He licks his lips again and is rewarded. Your fingers that had been running along his jaw suddenly snake into the hair at the nape of his neck and you pull him close. He is just as needy as you are, his hands which had been fiddling with his shirt the whole time are suddenly flying up to tug your bodies even closer. Your lips crash against his and he whimpers into your mouth when you both open them simultaneously, your tongue dragging along his. It takes all your conscious effort not to moan, your body melding itself against his. His arms wrap around you and squeeze you to him, his whimpers turning into a little moan when you gain dominance in the kiss.

You pull away, one of your hands coming back to his jaw to to place a thumb over his open lips. You turn to look back at the bodies laying around the room, most of the members of the fraternity still down here, all of them passed entirely the fuck out. The guy just behind you is snoring up a storm and you can’t help smirking a little when you turn back to face Jungkook. He looks so fucked out already, his eyes glazed and his pupils blown wide as he pants lightly against your thumb. Your smile is both devious and full of fondness as you stare at him.

“You look so good baby, but you have to be quiet for me,” you whisper to him and he does nothing more than open his mouth wider. His tongue snakes out and licks against your thumb, pulling it in and sealing his lips around the appendage. He suckles on it hungrily and gods be damned if your panties aren’t soaked at this point.

“Fuck,” you sigh, squeezing your thighs together. You want him so bad it almost hurts. He pulls away far enough that your thumb pops from his lips and he whimpers once again, pulling you as close as he can.

“Noona, please,” he says, his breath shuddering.

“Please what, baby?”

He grabs one your hands and pulls it down between your bodies, pressing your palm to the bulge in his jeans. Your breathing deepens when you palm the hardness through the thick fabric, wondering how you didn’t notice it before.

“Oh baby,” you coo quietly and rub your hand heavily over his bulge. He bites his lip to hold back the moan threatening to break free and you feel his hips start to rock into your hand. He’s so fucking hot, how have you been able to resist him for so long?

“How long have to been this hard?”

He takes a moment to respond, trying to take deep breaths. Your hand stalls to help him regain some semblance of sanity, but he seems against the idea. His hand returns to gripping yours, pressing your palm back against his hard-on.

“Long time,” he finally gets out in a clipped tone, probably unable to speak properly at this point.

“Poor thing.”

You pull closer to him, pressing your forehead to his and lowering your voice so that you’re barely audible.

“Take your cock out for me, baby. Please.”

He keeps you close and groans into your neck, only taking a moment to collect himself before he’s pushing away, and his hands are flying to undo his pants. He struggles with the button for a moment, but you don’t help him, only leaning back to watch with excitement. When he finally gets them undone he’s tugging them down just enough so he can freely pull is cock out and gods is it beautiful. Your mouth waters as soon as he has it out, its pink color and red head making you want to feel the weight of it on your tongue. It’s not particularly long, but it’s thicker than you thought it would be and the precum that glistens on his tip calls out to you. You let out a heavy breath when his hands hover just shy of his shaft, trembling and aching to give the poor weeping thing some relief. Still he hesitates to touch himself.

Such a good boy.

“You’re so gorgeous,” you practically wheeze out, finding it hard to breathe when your twitching hand finally reaches out for him. He’s whimpering before you even touch him and you have to remind him to be quiet when the tip of your finger goes to touch the head.

“Remember, baby, keep it down.”

He nods a little shakily and just as you press into the precum on his tip with your finger, his hands are flying up to cover his mouth. He’s so sensitive and you love it.

“Well, you’re certainly aching there aren’t you? Does it feel good to have me touch you?”

Again he nods and you pout, swirling your finger in the sticky fluid at his tip. His eyes clench shut at the sensation and he deftly thrusts his hips up to meet more of your hand.

“Use your words or I’ll have to stop.”

“Yes,” he whispers out harshly, his hands clenching into fists at his stomach, “… yes, yes, yes, yes!”

You smirk, the high you’re getting from all of this driving you to carry on.

“Good boy.”

You continue to swirl your finger over his tip a few more times, widening your circle until you’re sliding your finger down the top of his length, all the way to the base. He pants a little too heavily, his eyes glued to your hand and what you’re doing to him. You circle around his base to the bottom of his cock before dragging your finger back up and rubbing it deftly over the slit a few times.

“Fuck noona-“

“Language, Jungkookie.” You say with a smirk, your hand finally flattening over the underside of his length so you can palm him a few times. His hips rock against his will and meet you half way every time you press down on him. He looks so pretty like this, his eyes nearly black and so focused on how your palm drags over his length. He’s sweating a little, panting a lot and his gorgeous cock is ready to explode at any second. And you’ve barely even done anything to him yet.

“What made you so hard and needy like this?”

He stays silent for a long moment, only answering when the pressure of your hand lightens and you begin to pull away.

“You… you made me like this. You always… make me like this.”

Always?

“Fuck, Kookie, if you had told me sooner we might’ve actually got it in tonight.”

His eyes are glistening at this point as they shoot up to glance at you before scrunching shut when your fingers finally wrap around his shaft. You pump him slowly, but his hips make up for that and keep the sliding of his cock in and out of your hand at a steady pace.

“I wanted to. Fuck I wanted to, but…”

“But?”

He pants a few times, focused more on chasing his high. Your grip on his cock tightens to the point that he’s forced to stop thrusting, only allowing him to continue when he answers.

“I-I was scared. And you were being so cautious with me-“

“Of course I was! I didn’t want to scare you away. I worked too hard for you, I wasn’t going to mess that up by being too greedy.”

His hips stutter and then pause, his eyes opening to look at you. His face is flush, you can tell even in the dark, and his hair is starting to stick to his face. Still he looks like the sexiest, most beautiful thing you’ve ever seen.

“Why?”

“What?” You ask, not prepared to be questioned back like this.

“Why did you put so much effort into me. You could’ve easily slept with one of the other guys. Yoongi’s always had the hots for you. So has Tae. Why me?”

You take a long moment to mull over your answer, your other hand coming up to push some of his sweaty hair out of his face. When you get some clear, you lean in to kiss him a little more gently this time. Though it isn’t any less heated, it’s more of a deep sensual kiss than one of hunger and lust. When you pull away, you look him in the eyes when you answer.

“The same reason anyone chooses anyone else. You’re the one I wanted, Kookie. I would’ve put in a hundred years of work if I had to.”

His eyes are wide with adoration and awe, but the moment can’t last forever. His cock twitching in your hand reminds you of what is happening and you squeeze it gently before going back to pumping him. He gasps quietly at the sensation, his eyes falling closed and his body slowly starting to roll backwards. You move with him, pressing your body into his side when he’s finally laying flat on his back. His hands are clenching and unclenching against his stomach, desperate for some kind of anchor. A thought pings into your mind while you watch him grasp sporadically at his shirt, releasing his cock and pushing both his hands and the shirt up his abdomen. He whines at the loss of contact, lifting his head to see why you’d stopped stroking him only for his eyes to go wide. He looks a bit panicked, his gaze darting around to the half dead bodies around you two. You could so easily be caught, but most of the occupants of the house were completely wasted and would likely never remember this even if they did see it.

You slide down his body quietly, stealthily, like a cat taunting its prey into the shadows. Your eyes catch his and they hold him, their mischief so palpable that it makes Jungkook’s mouth go dry and his cock pulsate so fiercely it taps against his stomach. Your one hand trails down his side lightly, nails tickling his hip and thigh so that he’s shuddering beneath you. He reaches for you, one hand cupping your cheek- wants to tell you to stop, but his throat is so dry he can’t even whisper. Or perhaps he’s lying to himself and doesn’t want you to stop at all. When you quirk an eyebrow in question and you feel the object of your desire tap against your throat with another needy pulse, you know the answer is no, he doesn’t want you to stop.

A trembling whisper of your name leaves his lips and you can only smirk, tilting your head down to kiss just above his navel and then to one side of it. Down, down, further you trail, your kisses getting sloppier as you descend closer to your target. Your tongue and teeth leave wet, rosy patches as you go and you can feel his muscles quivering every time you touch him until finally the desperately red tip of his cock is right in front of you. He whimpers beneath you and you shush him gently, unable to tear your eyes away from the way it pulses and twitches up towards you.

“Please,” he finally lets out, sounding much like he’s on the verge of tears. You smirk again and glance up at him through your lashes.

“Please what, baby?”

He huffs cutely, his other hand cupping the other side of your face and his thumbs smoothing along your cheekbones like he’s so desperate to just pull you into his cock, but doesn’t want to be too demanding. You smile a bit more when his look gets more and more frantic, one of your arms reaching up to rub his chest under his shirt soothingly.

“Relax, my sweet star. Just tell me what you want and I’ll give it to you.”

“P-please…”

“Go on, baby. I know you want it, just tell me.”

“Please, I want your mouth,” he finally shutters out, but you can’t help yourself and push just a bit more.

“What do you want from my mouth?”

He huffs again and looks away, searching the room to make sure everyone there is truly oblivious.

“I-I want…”

“Want?”

“Please, noona, ravage me with your mouth.”

He looks you directly in the eyes as he finishes and the glee that soars through you practically makes you light headed. You grin broadly at him and bite your lip.

“I’ll give you anything you want, bunny. You just have to ask.”

Before he can really bask in your words you focus back on his cock, the hand that had been trying to soothe him shooting down to wrap gently round his base and lead his head to your waiting tongue. His breath shudders out and his mouth opens to let out a rush of air. The precum leaking from his tip covers your tongue in salt, but you don’t mind, all too desperate to feel the full weight of him at the back of your throat. Still you take your time, only licking at his slit to tease him, another droplet of precum oozing out every time to you do.

He’s panting while he watches you, his hands trembling on your face until one shakily weaves into your hair at the crown of your head. He doesn’t grip or pull, doesn’t try to shove more of his cock into your mouth which is what you’re used to. No, he’s too gentle and sweet to force anything. He only wants and lets you lead the way. When you finally wrap you lips around his tip he can’t hold back the noise, his head falling back, his teeth digging into his bottom lip and what he hopes is a quiet moan leaving him. And you can only smirk at the sound, the subtle shudder in his voice making you even more wet and your stomach clench with desire.

You take the time to generously wet the head of his cock, delighting in its twitches while you swirl your tongue around him. When you pop him from your lips the poor thing looks pathetic, practically weeping in your fingers and you feel all too obliged to take him back in. Only this time you take him all in, or at least as much as you can. You suck him all the way to the back of your throat, moaning quietly around his shaft so he can feel the vibrations. And oh does it make him make the most wonderful of sounds. A surprised cry and the slapping of a hand over his mouth (the one that was lightly stroking his fingers along your cheek) has you trying to smile around him.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck-…”

He lets the mantra trail off quietly, his body arched so you can’t see his face anymore. And as much as you adore the sight of him losing control, you’d much rather see the pleasure on said face. You suck harshly and pull off him, letting him once again pop from your lips. You take care to pump him slowly while you speak, you spit slicking his cock enough that there’s little friction.

“Look at me baby.”

It takes him a few moments, but you wait patiently until he realizes you gave him an order and he follows through. He looks a little lost when he finally locks eyes with you, his gaze a little wild like he can’t really see you at first.

“Noona?”

“Are you with me, sweetheart?”

He looks confused, but nods all the same, probably ready to agree to anything at this point.

“Listen carefully, baby. I want you to look at me the whole time. Don’t you dare look away or I’ll stop, okay? Eyes on me.”

He nods deftly, afraid he won’t be able to fulfill your request, but eagerly wanting to please you.

“Good boy.”

You don’t give him any time to prepare himself and suck him back in as far as he’ll go. He wheezes and squeezes his eyes shut for just a moment, quickly remembering your order and opening them back up to focus on you again. You smirk around his cock to let him know you approve and focus back on your task. When you can’t push him any further down your throat you opt to bob your head, one hand stroking what you can’t swallow and the other massaging his balls. You look up every few seconds to make sure he’s still watching and only have to stop once to make him look at your again. The sloppier his cock and your mouth gets the more he shakes and shudders beneath you, the hand in your hair trembling like a leaf in the wind. He keeps his other hand up by his face, ready to cover his mouth every time he can’t hold back a whimper or moan.

It doesn’t take long, only a few minutes and he’s desperately pleading to you, “I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I-“

You push him in as far as you can take and swallow around him just once before he’s shooting his load down your throat. Tears form in his eyes when he squeezes them shut and you can’t fault him when his head falls back onto the mattress. He did such a good job of watching you, you’ll let him have this one. When the last of his cum is swallowed down, you take care to gently clean what you can off his cock with your tongue. He shakes and gasps beneath you as you do, his head shaking back and forth as if to say he can’t take anymore. You pop off him one last time and kiss his tip softly, grinning when he finally cracks his eyes open to look at you.

He looks madly in love while he stares at you and it makes you somewhat nervous to see such intense emotion in his eyes. You lift yourself and crawl back up his body, pausing to help him pull his pants back up and his shirt back down. You hush him when he tries to button and zip everything back up, pushing his weak and tired hands away.

“No one will notice, just rest baby.”

“Well that was hot.”

You freeze over him, Jungkook’s body going rigid and his eyes widening with fear. You both look over your shoulder and spot Yoongi a small ways away from the foot of your mattress, laying on his side with his head propped up in one hand. He’s smirking at the two of you and while Jungkook looks mortified, you only feel proud. Now someone has witness that Jungkook is yours and no one else can have him.

“Hyung,” he whispers harshly, both his hands coming up to cover his face. You smile fondly at your boy before looking back to Yoongi.

“Well if you’re good and keep this to yourself, maybe next time you can join us.”

Yoongi quirks an eyebrow and grins excitedly, Jungkook letting out a panicked noise when you settle in beside him. He whispers to you quietly as if he doesn’t want Yoongi to hear and you only shush him gently to calm him.

“Lay down and rest, bunny. Don’t worry about him, he’ll keep quiet.”

“But-“

“Shh, sleep.”

You run your fingers through his hair until he finally settles down, turning so that he can wrap himself around you and tuck his head under your chin. You chuckle lovingly and continue to pet him, using your free hand to flip Yoongi off when he makes lewd gestures at you in the dark.

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mostlycompetentwriter · 3 years

Text

Domesticated Drabble

Pairing: Bang Chan x Y/N

Genre: Marriage AU; Sequel; Drabble

Warnings: So. Much. Fluff. (small smut scene at the beginning); language

Request:

A/N: Finally finished this one! Please enjoy another taste of my favorite AU!

5 Years Later

“We’ve got five minutes,” I whispered against the pulse point on Chan’s neck, the throbbing vein pumping hard as he panted for breath from above me, eyes shut tight together as he moaned.

“I’ll blow at any second,” Chan cursed, laying sloppy kisses wherever he could reach while fucking me hard and fast.

“Your cock feels amazing,” I practically purred, digging sharp nails into the milky white skin of his back, legs closing in around his waist to keep him close.

“Oh, sweetie, you’re laying it on thick this morning, aren’t you?”

I clenched a vice-grip around the length pumping inside me in response, sending Chan’s hips stuttering against my own. “I’ve got kids in the next room who can wake-up at any second. Excuse me for trying to inflate your ego.”

“That’s not the only thing inflating,” Chan gasped, curling his fingers through mine.

“You’re gross,” I huffed, closing my eyes and throwing back my neck as best as I could in this position: laid out under my husband, orgasm approaching at a meteoric-level speed, and sweat coating my skin in a delightful sheen as the muscles around my abdomen worked overtime to milk Chan for everything that he had before the moment was ruined by my kids.

I half-expected them to burst into the room unannounced at any second, oblivious to their parents fucking in much of the same way that created them in the first place. Locked together with limbs intertwining, sucking in each other’s air, and kisses rough and demanding.

Fuck it had been far too long since Chan and I had last done anything even remotely this intimate, and it was still necessary for us to go at it as fast as possible to prevent unwanted eyes from accidentally catching us at the height of our passion.

I couldn’t help but glance at the clock, realizing that we had been fucking for almost ten minutes, and the alarm had been set for 7:00 AM so that I could somehow wrestle my kids together for their first day of school.

Damn, this is gonna turn out to be a very long day.

“Are you close?” I asked Chan, connecting our lips for a sweet kiss since I personally knew that they were a weakness of his.

“Yeah,” he said, features collapsing into a look of pure concentration as a guttural moan found its way crawling up his throat to release itself at the same moment when I could feel his release emptying into the condom separating us from complete skin-to-skin by a thin layer of latex.

But I insisted on wearing them now.

“You’ll cum too, sweetie,” Chan whispered, laving his tongue across the pad of his thumb before reaching down to connect with my clitoris, drawing rough circles in random patterns to snap the physical breaking point: holding my tongue to prevent myself from screaming as I rode the waves of pleasure until nothing was left but a delicate haze and the sensation of Chan’s cock still stuffed inside my spent pussy.

As it turns out, aftercare with Chan was the equivalent of my husband spewing my praises while insisting on letting his cock soften completely before pulling out: cock warming at its finest.

“Do you plan to pull out?” I asked him, smirking when he whined and buried his face into the side of my neck.

“It’s been a while since we’ve been like this,” Chan remarked.

“The kids need to get up soon,” I said, although there was a sleepy pull weighing down my eyelids. A good fuck tended to wear me out. “They’ve got their first day.”

“Yeah,” Chan agreed, but he made no effort to separate us. In fact, I could imagine us both easily falling back to sleep.

“You’re coming right?” I asked around a yawn. “To their Kindergarten orientation or whatever the hell they call it.”

“Of course,” Chan said, and he finally lifted his head from my shoulder, gaze soft as he took his time to explore my features. “I can’t miss that.”

“What? Watching the teachers drag them away for the first day of the education system they’ll be stuck in for the next thirteen years?”

“You have a way with words, sweetie.”

I grinned. “Maybe I’m just using words to deny the weirdness of my kids starting school and making me feel like I’m 100 years old.”

“It feels like they were just born,” Chan agreed, and he slowly rose himself into a sitting position, climbing out of bed to give me the best view of his naked ass.

“Your ass looks great by the way.”

“Thanks,” Chan snorted, reaching for a pair of black slacks from the floor. “I’m taking a shower.”

“Fine,” I groaned. “I guess I’ll go awaken the sleeping monsters.”

“Let the chaos begin,” Chan announced, closing the bathroom door behind him as I reached down deep into the reserves to muster enough energy to finally get out of bed.

At the risk of sounding too long-winded, the best way I could describe my twins was with a touch of irony. Because, despite looking identical to one another, my girls couldn’t be more opposite in terms of personality.

Leah, the eldest by one minute, was boisterous, loud, and unapologetic when it came to being herself. She was the epitome of a social butterfly, jumping from one person to the next and asking questions that occasionally raised a few eyebrows because of their brazenness.

Her sister, Rose, was nothing like that. In fact, Rose hardly spoke at all, choosing to listen instead, and offer her voice only when she truly felt the need to include it. Of course, side-by-side, they were another thing altogether, far too energetic for me to handle.

This morning was no exception, chasing Leah around the house because she refused to change out of her pajamas, questioning me relentlessly on why it mattered that she had to change.

“I should wear what I want!” she insisted, and I had nearly lost my patience with her until Chan entered the room, and he was one of the only people who could talk through to Leah.

Him and Felix, of course.

Before Felix moved out, he and Leah were practically inseparable, and I could see her uncle’s influence in a lot of different ways.

“You want to look your best to make new friends, right?” Chan asked her, and after a laughable look of concentration, Leah nodded and allowed me to change her into a much more suitable dress.

“There,” I grumbled, turning my attention to Rose who was more willing to be dressed.

“Let’s go have breakfast, yeah?” Chan whispered to Leah, and she smiled and giggled at her father as he took her hand and led her into the kitchen.

I scoffed at how easy he was able to manage her, glancing at Rose who was even more quiet than usual. “Aren’t you excited for your first day?”

She shrugged, looking down at her hands. “I don’t want to leave you.”

I could feel my heart breaking at her sweet words, cupping her face between my hands as I tried to reassure her that she would still see me in the afternoons and evenings. “It’s just a little break,” I said, but I knew that Rose was harder to convince.

In the meantime, Chan and I worked together to have both twins fed and ready to leave the house, packing them lunches for school before ushering everyone out the door because we were teetering on the edge of being too late.

At least Chan had the wherewithal to warm-up the car, and it gave us more time to fasten everyone into their car-seats before pulling out onto the main road, speeding into the downtown district with the clock ticking away. “Well, at least the other parents will think we’re irresponsible.”

“I’ve got this,” Chan said, and I shivered as he toed the gas and grazed just going over too fast.

“At the risk of getting a ticket-”

“Relax, sweetie,” Chan interrupted, reaching over to take my hand. “I’ll handle everything.”

“Uh-huh,” I murmured, glancing up into the rearview mirror to see Leah and Rose engaged in their learning tablets. Even if they were a few minutes late, my kids would still be the smartest. I had made sure of that, spending countless hours with them reading as many books as I could buy, digging out paper and pencils to practice their names and alphabet letters, and reading tons of online articles about the best methods to ensure your child’s early learning set them up for the most success.

Right? So what if we were a little late.

“Mommy? Why can’t you both stay with us at school?” Rose suddenly inquired from the backseat.

I sighed, turning around to face her. “Mommy and Daddy both have to go to work, okay? We’ve already had our turn at school.”

“Our turn?” Chan chuckled, and I pivoted in my seat to glare at him.

“That’s the kind of language we should be using with them!”

“Did you read that from an online expert?”

“As a matter of fact, I did!” I huffed, and I caught his smile, letting me know that he was just messing around.

“I just want them to do well,” I whispered, and his expression instantly softened at the sound of my tone.

“You’ve done so well, sweetie,” Chan reassured me, squeezing my hand even tighter as he turned into the school’s parking lot, finding an empty spot near the back.

Immediately, I was at the back door, reaching inside to help Rose out of her seat, spinning her around to help her with her brand new bookbag. “There,” I said, once her attention was on me again. “You’re ready.”

“I don’t know...” Rose trailed off, and her eyes held all the uncertainty of a five-year-old who was used to staying at home with her parents and uncle. Not the unfamiliar presences of her peers.

“Hey,” I said, kneeling down to meet her gaze straight-on. “I know it seems scary, but I promise that you’ll really love it. I was the same way too on my first day, but my mom gave me the same advice, and guess what? She was right. I ended up loving school, and if there’s a little piece of me in you, then I know that you’ll have so much fun that you’ll forget all about your mommy and daddy.”

Rose’s eyes grew bigger, shaking her head in a manner that was quite endearing. “I won’t ever forget you.”

“I know, sweetheart,” I said, pulling her close for a hug as Chan and Leah emerged from the other side.

“Everything okay?” Chan asked, looking between me and his daughter.

“Just fine,” I said, ruffling Rose’s hair before standing tall again. “Let’s go inside.”

The classroom was already full of students, and I was glad to see some parents lingering, which meant we weren’t as late as I had thought.

“Told ya,” Chan snickered, and I gave him a playful glare before turning my attention to the approaching teacher: an older gentleman with a head of pepper and salt colored hair and kind eyes.

“Hello,” he said, addressing me first. “I’m Mr. Park.”

“Hi,” I said, accepting his handshake. “These are my daughters: Leah and Rose Bang.”

“Ah!” Mr. Park remarked, glancing down. “I’m excited for our twin students! Please, have a seat wherever you’d like.”

“Go on,” I encouraged them when I caught their matching looks of insecurity. “You have each other,” I added, reaching down to wrap their fingers together, giving them one last smile before Leah bravely led her sister further into the room, selecting an empty table near the back.

“Well, it’s so nice to meet you,” Mr. Park said, and I noticed that he had grown a little too close, gaze lingering for far too long.

“Yes,” I agreed, “And this is my-”

“I’m Chan,” my husband interrupted, inserting himself between me and Mr. Park with a brusque movement. “The father.”

I rolled my eyes at his tone, watching as Mr. Park hesitated before nodding and shaking Chan’s outstretched hand. “Nice to meet you.”

I smirked, waiting until Mr. Park had moved on before leaning in to Chan. “What was that, dear?”

Chan scoffed, searching the room for a moment. “He was flirting with you, sweetie. What did you expect me to do?”

“Well, it could be from our morning romp, but it kinda turned me on.”

Chan raised a suggestive brow at my comment, but I gave him a cheeky smile in response before walking in the direction of Leah and Rose’s table. “Look at you two,” I remarked. “I think you made a good choice.”

“I like seeing outside,” Leah said, and I nodded and tucked away a wayward strand of hair.

“You’ll both stay together, right?”

I received synchronous nods in response, and there was a lot of relief on my end knowing that my girls would be just fine.

“We’ll be here to pick you up at 2:00,” Chan said, pointing to the analog clock above the door. “Okay?”

Two more nods. “Remember to have fun. You’re gonna learn so much, and maybe you’ll even be smarter than daddy.”

I managed to elicit two laughs in response to that, and Chan chuckled as he wrapped an arm around my waist. “Be good, alright?”

“Yes, daddy,” Leah replied diligently while Rose nodded her head, attention drifting to a book sitting at the edge of the table.

I smiled knowing that she was showing interest, and then I realized that there was a deeper part of me that was having just as much trouble leaving the girls as they were having with leaving me and Chan. But the other parents were starting to leave the room, and with one more exchange of our goodbyes, Chan and I were walking away from our girls, keeping our own hands locked together as the door closed behind us.

“Woah,” I sighed once we were outside in the hallway. “That was harder than I expected.”

“It’s a big step,” Chan said, and he wrapped an arm around my waist to pull me closer. “But they’ll be okay because they’re ours.”

“Oh,” I laughed. “Is that so?”

“Of course,” Chan said, giving me a perfectly serious look before a smile overtook his features, and any previous doubts were vanquished by the sincerity in that smile, and I knew that as long as I had Chan, then nothing would ever be too difficult to overcome.

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flutteringphalanges · 3 years

Photo

ME n U

Summary: After an unfortunate accident involving your co-worker, a position opens up at Edda Grillen. When a group of your schoolmates place bets that “Mr. Popular” Fjor Jutul can’t handle the job, the two of you soon find yourselves in a situation that not even Wenche could have predicted. Ship: Fjor x Reader Rating: T

Part One:

It may have partially been your fault that Jens broke his leg. After all, you were the one who was supposed to have salted the sidewalk outside the restaurant’s doors. But maybe if he hadn’t been so preoccupied with his phone instead of where he was walking… No. No, that wasn’t fair. Jens was a really nice guy and even made the extra effort to insist you weren’t to blame as the ambulance came to transport him to the hospital. Nevertheless, the guilt was there. Somehow, you promised yourself, you’d make it up to him.

“So, did you hear they are hiring extra help here until Jens comes back?”

You try to not make it obvious as you look up from where you are washing the counter. The usual crew is there--Oscar, Hilde, Signy, Laurits, Gry, Saxa, and, of course, Fjor. There are several places you can think of off the top of your head where they could hang out besides the Edda Grillen. They rarely spent any money on anything and took up space that paying customers could use. To say you weren’t exactly a fan of them was an understatement.

“Temporary help,” Oscar continues, leaning on the table. “However long that is.”

Refocusing your attention, you reach for the spray bottle when Jenny nudges you. Out of the corner of your eye, you can see she’s holding a tray of french fries and soda. Inhaling deeply, you stop what you are doing and look at her.

“Can you take these out to them?” She asks rather sheepishly. “I have to flip the burgers.”

“Did they pay for them?” Her lack of an answer says it all. “Jenny…”

“Just this once, I promise, then I’ll stop.” You highly doubt that, but sighing, you take it from her anyway. “Thanks, Y/N! I really, really appreciate it.”

“Yeah, yeah…” You huff, slipping from behind the counter. “I’m a real saint.”

The chatter at the table stops as you draw closer, everyone’s eyes so focused on you that it feels like you’re being studied. It takes a lot, but you force a smile as you begin to place down the baskets of fries and cold drinks.

“So Y/N…” Oscar ventures, his lips parting into a smile. “Have you guys found anyone to take Jens’ place?”

“It’s unfortunate about his leg.” Saxa comments, pursing her lips as she reaches for a fry. “I hope this place will compensate him for his time off. After all, he did get hurt on the job.” You don’t like the way she’s looking at you when she says it. “Who knows how long it will be.”

“There’s still an opening.” You respond, not taking Saxa’s bait. “We have applications at the front if people are interested.” Please, God, don’t let them be. “...Can I get you anything else?”

“You know, you should apply, Fjor.” Oscar teased.

“You should!” Hilde chimed in. “I’m sure you’d look dashing in an apron holding a spatula.”

“Careful though. Y/N might try to break your leg too.” Laurits smirks, looking you dead in the eyes. “But I’d pay to see you holding a job here...not that you could.”

Fjor’s lips press into a thin line. “And what makes you think that I couldn’t?”

“No offense, Fjor, but have you seen yourself? You aren’t exactly the first person I’d think of when it comes to fast food.” Gry gives him a small smile. “It really isn’t you.”

“And I doubt he’s even cooked before too.” Signy cut in. “No, I can’t picture you even if I tried.”

You bite back a smile as you notice how Fjor genuinely looks slightly annoyed by everyone’s lack of faith in him. But they were right, as much as you hate to admit it. There is no way in Hell that Fjor Jutul would ever consider working somewhere that didn’t pay him in gold and diamonds. Not to mention his family did own Norway’s fifth largest company.

“Care to make a wager then?” Oscar’s voice pulls you from your thoughts. “42 kroner if Fjor is hired AND lasts a day.” He looks to the others expectantly. “Any wagers?”

There is a brief moment of silence. “Fine,” Hilde sighs. “I’ll go in 85 for one week.” The teenager glances around. “Come on, don’t let it only be me and Oscar.”

Laurits grins widely, leaning back in his chair. “This is going to be good.” He seems to ponder for a moment before smacking his hand on the table. “128 kroner AND I will throw in Magne’s snow boots--just because it’ll be hilarious to watch him desperately look around for them.” He turns to the remainder of the group. “Ladies?”

“No,” Gry shakes her head. “Sorry, but I’d rather waste my money on something else.”

“Put me in for 170 kroner and...make it TWO weeks!” Hilde throws Fjor a smile. “Someone has to have some confidence in you.”

All eyes fall onto Saxa, including your own, as she casually sips her drink. Exhaling, she sets it down and appears to be preoccupied with admiring her nails. Even you, at this point, are interested in what she has to say.

“Are we really that bored enough to place bets on my brother like he’s some kind of race horse?” She sighs, straightening up. “But if I must…” Saxa gives a long pause. “8574 kroner for a month--and that’s how high I’m willing to go for something as pointless as this.”

Everyone turns to look at Fjor, including you. He’s sitting there quietly almost as if he is actually pondering the idea in his mind. Suddenly you wish that it had been you and not Jens who had slipped and broke their leg. There’s no way he would even qualify for the position...right? But with the “connections” his family has throughout Edda, you can’t rule the chance out.

“What happens if I win?” He finally says, crossing his arms.

“You’re not serious?!” Saxa snorts, staring her brother down. “You’d actually do it?”

“You bet didn’t you?” He counters, cocking an eyebrow. “I could honestly care less about the money. Instead...let’s make this interesting. If I win--which I well, Saxa has to delete ALL of her social media accounts and give me her car.”

“What?! No! I’m out!” Saxa hisses, rolling her eyes. “Why are we even considering this?”

“Deal!” Oscar interrupted. “Sounds fair to me!”

The others nod in agreement, excitement stirring around the table. For a split second, you can almost swear Saxa’s eyes flicker yellow. Blinking, you pass it off as being tired. Numbly, you stare forward, still clutching the empty tray. It’s then you notice Fjor, his gaze burning into yours.

“Hey Y/N, about those applications…” He smirks, giving you a look that makes you want to sock him in his pretty face. “Do you have a pen?”

#Ragnarok #Ragnarok Netflix #Fjor Jutul #Fjor x Reader #Reader x Fjor #Saxa Jutul #Laurits Seier #ME n U #like menu lol get it?#Sad pun #first time ever writing reader x character fic

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otonymous · 4 years

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⚠️ PSA: Everybody Hurts (When People Repost)

Hello @thebestaqua32,

Thank you very much for your Ask. I cannot tell you how much I appreciate the fact that you are reaching out to ask me for permission before actually doing so. Unfortunately, I do NOT allow my work to be reposted by anyone other than myself, on any platform, whether it is Wattpad, Instagram, Twitter, etc.

What follows is by no means directed towards you, dear @thebestaqua32, but I thought I’d take this opportunity to talk about something many creators (writers and artists alike) have been dealing with for a while now, and me, myself, recently.

Over the course of the past 3-4 weeks, I have found instances of my work being reposted to no less than 3 different platforms, once with attribution in difficult to see fine print with no links back to the original source of my work, and twice with absolutely no credit at all. As you can probably imagine, it was quite upsetting to me that pieces I’ve worked so incredibly hard on was being distributed in such a manner, and a lot of time and energy was expended in order to rectify the situation — time and energy that could’ve been otherwise used to create more content for my lovely readers and followers.

Unfortunately, reposting without permission from authors and artists is a common occurrence, and some may not realize the damage doing so can inflict. I seek here to try to explain why reposting in this manner hurts everybody, not just the content creator.

Argument #1:

“How can I possibly hurt someone by reposting their work? The more likes and comments I generate on this post of mine just means I’m giving them free publicity!”

This is something I’ve heard many reposters say in defence of their actions, and while publicity is definitely a good thing for content creators, that is only the case if the people consuming a piece could be bothered to check its original source — that is, if exposure is a guarantee of user traffic being driven back to the creator’s website, social media accounts, etc. And oftentimes, especially in this digital age of “see it and forget it” fast-consumption, most cannot be bothered to do so — the action that is one-step removed proves to be too much of an effort, even if it is merely clicking a link.

Please also consider this: many creators depend on commissions to make a living. This avenue of revenue has only become more important in current times because we are in the midst of a pandemic. People are literally relying on these funds to pay their rent and feed and support themselves and their families. The ability of a creator to support themselves is thus dependent on the size of their fan base or their numbers of followers. If people cannot be bothered to check the original source of a piece of writing or artwork, this essentially cuts down on their potential earnings. You cannot commission a piece from someone or support them if you don’t know of their existence.

This is especially so if things are reposted without proper credit at all, as was the case with one of my works. The worst part was that the stolen piece was taken from a project where the proceeds from all commissions were being donated to charity. In doing so, the thousands of people who liked this post had no way of finding out about this charity project, which means that even if they would’ve been interested in donating, they would not have known how. In essence, this translated to less money being raised to help those who really needed it in dire times.

So please, please, please do not think that the act of reposting hurts no one because that is simply not the case. There needs to be a direct link between people that engage with the content and the creator, which is why reblogging on Tumblr is excellent (feel free to reblog any of my content here if you wish, dear @thebestaqua32) and retweeting (without quotes!) on Twitter is great. These are among the best ways to support us!

Argument #2: The act of reposting could potentially contribute to the decline of a fandom.

Imagine you spent hours, days or even weeks working on something — pouring your heart and soul into a piece — and when you finally shared it to the world, not much happened. Maybe you got a few likes here or there, a couple of comments if you were very lucky. How would you feel? What conclusion would you draw? Some might feel discouraged, others might stop creating altogether.

Imagine then, that same post receiving tons of comments and likes and legitimate shares because someone with a bigger following reposted it on their own social media account without your knowledge. Imagine what you would’ve done with this information — the feeling that others loved and enjoyed your work and wanted to see more. Perhaps it might’ve encouraged you to continue creating.

Case in point:

I wrote this letter. And if I weren’t alerted to the existence of this post, I would’ve never known that thousands of others had liked my work. Also, that’s 124 comments I didn’t get the chance to read. Furthermore, this was a piece that was written for the charity project. Imagine how many potential donors we might have received if people knew about its source.

Feedback is absolutely crucial to creators. It enables us to discover what others did and did not like. Not only can it serve as a compass of sorts to guide our artistic progress and work (and create pieces that can cater to the needs and desires of those who consume it), it is also a point of communication between members of a given fandom. It builds community. And without a strong sense of community, a fandom flounders and could eventually fizzle out.

Without content creators, there is very little for people to consume. Please support all of us by not reposting our work, especially without our knowledge and/or permission.

With that being said, please accept a giant THANK YOU from me to you for reading till the very end. It is very much appreciated. 🙏🏻💕

#please do not repost #PSA #reposting #q&a #thebestaqua32 #my writing #mine

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poetrusicperry · 3 years

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the poets and their first summer jobs

i’ve seen some discourse about how rich all the boys/their families are, and of course there would be like very little reason for them to work, but i couldn’t help wondering who would do what for their first jobs (summer jobs bc they couldn’t work while they’re at school). andddd that led me to writing this lol

neil: so neil would have like absolutely zero time for a job between all his normal coursework/extracurriculars and his summer classes (”you know me, always taking on too much”), but i guarantee you he would still take the time to get a job and have his own money to do with whatever he chose. mr. perry wouldn’t care much because it showed neil “taking initiative” or whatever. neil would likely work at a diner as either a bus boy or a waiter. he’s super personable, so he’d always strike up conversations with people sitting at the counter, and he’d get loads of tips bc he’s cute (: he’d bring his summer school work with him to do during lulls in business, which his boss didn’t mind because it’s neil and everyone knows how responsible he is. the poets would come visit him pretty much every day (to eat, see neil, and escape the heat in the air conditioning), likely taking up a whole booth, and making an absolute mess of the area. charlie would be making spitballs, aiming at cameron and knox every time (earning a “charlie, knock it off, i told you three times already! so mature of you, really.” from cameron) and meeks/pitts would try to see how many straws they could connect to make “ultra straw.” todd would come hang out at the counter when neil was closing, admiring his pretty bf as he worked (’: neil would always make todd a chocolate milkshake with whipped cream and rainbow jimmies on the house, claiming, “we have to empty out the ice cream machine anyway” (but really he’d take the cost out of his paycheck, just wanting to make todd happy). his boss would hire him back every summer, loving how much business neil drove in (even if the poets made a mess every time they hung out and ate) and absolutely adoring how much effort neil put into what anyone else would seemingly call a “meaningless” job.

todd: you can’t tell me that todd wouldn’t look forward to working. especially during the summers, it would get him out of the house and away from his parents judging his every move. being the shy introvert he is, he’d likely do things like mowing lawns or gardening for people around his neighborhood. minimal interactions, but still decent pay (as all the people in his neighborhood were likely super rich and could afford to pay him well). the poets’ parents would hire him, after much convincing from their sons (”todd’s just trying to make some money, dad. please?”) and todd would appreciate this more than they ever knew. he’d become super familiar with flower types and he’d become a lot more nurturing after taking care of plants and grass for multiple summers. he’d keep a little journal or notebook with drawings or sketches of the flowers he’d taken care of, complete with descriptions and magazine/newspaper clippings from his mom’s better homes and garden subscription (a lot of his poetry would become nature-related as well). it would be his late night project, or something he’d do if he couldn't sleep (which was pretty common for todd). he’d call neil on the phone some nights and just gush about all kinds of flowers or tell neil how he accidentally got stung by a bee and cried about it because he knew the bee would die (all the while, neil would be listening so intently, taking note about which flowers were todd’s favorites for future use (’: the calls would have to be pretty planned, bc if neil wasn’t working, he was doing school work, or his parents were keeping an annoyingly close watch on him. but sometimes neil would call him impromptu and that made todd just the happiest little camper ever). todd’s nails would be really short (he’d cut them really often because he doesn’t like the feeling of dirt under his nails), which means he couldn’t bite his nails anymore, causing him to pick up a new anxious habit of biting the inside of his bottom lip ): overall, though, todd would like his job, and even find pleasure in being surrounded by little flowers all day. also if/when neil ever got the chance, he’d absolutely tag along to see his sweaty boyfriend in action (come on, neil would go absolutely nuts for todd in a cutoff shirt, 5″ inseam shorts, and converse mowing a lawn looking all manly and tough).

charlie: obviously, charlie wouldn’t need to work because of his financial situation, but his mom would 110% make him get a job just so he wouldn’t be around the house causing trouble/bothering his siblings for fun (”i’m hosting a lot of book club meetings for the country club this summer, i can’t have you putting spiders in the ladies’ hats again, charles”). similar to neil, mr. charlie dalton would work his summers at an ice cream/custard stand. he’d have to wear a white, short sleeve button up, a red and white striped apron, and one of those white, rectangular hats (his least favorite part HAHA, stating, “my hair is one of my best features and this just takes it all away. it’s unfair.”). the poets would visit often, both for ice cream, but primarily to give him a hard time about his uniform (”i’ll give you twenty bucks to wear this on our first day of classes” meeks would tease, completely gobsmacked when charlie showed up to their first chemistry class in his uniform, earning lots of demerits, but also twenty dollars). charlie would hate it at first, but obviously he’d adjust, being the extroverted/personable person, not taking himself too seriously and being one of the best ice cream slingers anyone had ever seen. he’d give the cute girls (and boys) extra scoops of ice cream for free, winking as he handed them their orders. like neil’s boss, charlie’s boss was even more thankful for charlie’s presence because they’d likely be raking in at least triple the income they would in a summer without him. he’d become a sundae expert, spending many dead poets meeting making them for his friends while they read poems and stories. that being said, he’d come to hate eating ice cream, publishing an article in welton’s honor demanding that they remove ice cream from their dessert menu (yes, almost exactly like the “girls at welton” prank, but he’d make the call collect this time. mr. nolan would be fed up to the point where he wouldn’t even punish charlie physically, just suspend him from rowing [which charlie wouldn’t mind at all HAHA]).

meeks & pitts: after their hi-fi success and the fact that they are seemingly inseparable, they both sought out jobs at the local radio station where they were hired as interns/assistants, running errands and picking up coffee or lunch for the station. but sometimes, when they worked pretty late, the night shift dj would let them pick the records and show them how everything worked (: after nights like that, meeks and pitts would go to one of their houses and add modifications to their hi-fi radio, staying up all night modifying and researching (by the end of the summer, they had made another hi-fi (portable) and their og hi-fi would have been morphed into a huge nationally reaching radio that they keep in the cave (since it would be disallowed in their room at welton). another job that the two of them would have would be answering calls for the station about song requests. with this knowledge, charlie and the other poets would hang out at someone’s house, calling and requesting the same songs over and over and over again. their biggest task for the summer would be organizing the shelves with all the records into alphabetical order (”duh, we should go by first name, meeks. which other way would it be” pitts would argue, only to find out that after they had spent about three weeks alphabetizing by first name, they were supposed to go by last name. “now who’s the idiot?” meeks would jeer, beginning to pull the records off the shelves). they’d also learn a lot about music from their night shift coworker, which would help in their quest to woo some ladies the following school year.

cameron: cameron liked spending his summers doing research projects for fun and just reading a whole lot, so you can imagine his displeasure at when his parents asked him to get a job (presumably to help with paying for his schooling). while upset about it, he wouldn’t complain, and took it on the chin, understanding the reasoning. he’d apply to a couple places, but ultimately end up as a grocery store cashier/stock boy. much like charlie, he’d have the same kind of uniform, but with a green apron instead. he’d spend most of his shift ringing people up at the register, being friendly and personable (something no one ever really realized about him !!). the poets’ moms would always see him and choose his register on purpose, using it as a chance to catch up or tell him to tell his parents that “the overstreets say hello!” or “mrs. anderson says hi!” pitts, meeks, and charlie would utilize cameron’s position at the supermarket to buy nudie magazines unembarrassed/slightly illegally HAHA (”come on, cameron! it’s not like you won’t be included in seeing them next year, too. we bring them to the meetings, you know that!” charlie would say, leaving cameron at a loss, reluctantly scanning the magazines and bagging them as pitts and meeks sniggered). charlie would wave, blow him a kiss, and wink as they left, “love you, richardddd.” sure enough, the magazines would make an appearance during the following school year and cameron was glad he had decided to let them buy the magazines lol.

knox: out of all the poets, i feel like our knoxious would be the least inclined to work (yes, even less inclined than charlie). his parents wouldn’t even make him get a job because he simply didn’t need to, but to everyone’s surprise, he would volunteer at the animal shelter. the poets would later find out that it was a great way to meet girls (which is why he did it lmfao so they endlessly goaded him about it). charlie would visit often, and even took a rescue puppy home, much to charlie’s younger sister’s delight. charlie even wanted to start volunteering at the shelter to also meet girls, but he was too busy at the ice cream stand (plus, he had really grown to like it there so he didn’t want to leave). another effect of volunteering made knox super interested in zoology and animals, which brought out a newer, more nurturing/caring side to him, and who knows, maybe he’d go vegetarian somehow. he’d want to pursue a career in animal science or becoming a veterinarian, but mr. overstreet was hellbent on knox taking over the firm, so it seemed like a pipe dream. knox would continue to volunteer at the animal shelter, well into his career as a lawyer, and would even go to veterinary school in his 30s (when he was a nationally famous, established lawyer) to get certification to work with animals in a broader way (:

hope you guys liked these. it was pretty fun to write, and i'd pay such good money to see neil, charlie, and cameron in their uniforms (and todd, but that’s neither here nor there). happy thursday !! let me know what you guys think of these <3(:

#dead poets society #dead poets in nyc #dps #dps headcanons #neil perry #todd anderson #anderperry #neil and todd #charlie dalton #richard cameron #steven meeks #gerard pitts #dark academia #headcanon #angelina writes

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sarahwroteathing · 3 years

Text

Take a Chance (2)

[Sam Wilson x Reader]

Word Count: 1062

Summary: Sam draws you out of your comfort zone to spend an evening with the team.

Warnings: Vague social anxiety

A/N: Look at me posting twice in a week! Wack. Chapter 1 if you missed it

@star-spangled-bingo 2021 Square Fill: Cuddling

That weekend, after much coaxing (whining), arguing (complaining), and outright bribery (outright bribery), Sam convinced you to spend an evening with him and his fellow Avengers. A hard won victory considering you generally spent any time off as far away from the compound and all associated individuals as possible.

“You are going to owe me at least ten favors for this,” you sighed when Sam met you at the elevator, tugging self consciously at the hem of your skirt.

“And here I was about to tell you how nice you look. I’m gonna owe you favors for hanging out with me?” Sam offered you his arm with a curious smile, and you took it without hesitation, eyes still flashing around the room, cataloguing the showroom- esque furnishings and the impressive people they supported. Bucky and Steve lounging on a couch, beers in hand. Clint sprawled on the floor, apparently already asleep while Wanda tossed pretzels at him. The relative relaxation in the room didn’t ease your tension in the slightest.

“You’re gonna owe me favors for making me come back here and spend my day off with people who probably consider themselves my bosses,” you corrected in a low voice, flashing a smile and wave at the few calls of greeting your entrance had prompted.

“Oh trust me, nobody here is stupid enough to try bossing you around,” a new voice cut in, making both you and Sam jolt in surprise. Natasha materialized at your side, linking her arm with yours in a familiar way Sam wasn't sure your relationship warranted. “Steve might even be scared of you.”

“Please,” you scoffed. “He is in no way afraid of me. What am I gonna do? Write a strongly worded email?”

“He’s impressed by you. Which I think is the closest he gets to being scared of someone,” Sam said, not missing the pleased little smirk that flickered across your lips for a moment.

“You been bragging on me, Sam?” you asked, leaning your head on his shoulder and fluttering your eyelashes in a way that made his stomach flip despite your teasing smile.

“Constantly,” Natasha answered as she started to steer you towards the low couches on the right side of the room.

“Interesting.” You dragged Sam along with you, keeping a firm grip on his arm to avoid separation. “And here I thought all he did was complain about how much time I spend at work.”

“He does that too,” Bucky mumbled from his place on the couch, leveling a baleful look at Sam. “It’s annoying.”

“It is annoying,” you agreed, earning a begrudging nod of approval from Barnes before Steve hopped up from his seat with a polite smile.

“It’s nice to see you out from behind the desk though. Thanks for joining us.” He offered you his hand, but Sam slapped it down.

“Man, you’re not interviewing her. This is a movie night.”

Steve held up his hands in surrender, an annoyingly knowing smile on his lips.

“Fine. Plenty of food and drinks on the table. Help yourself since manners are off limits.”

Sam rolled his eyes and followed you to the table as Natasha shook a dozing Clint awake.

“What movie are we watching?” you asked quietly, nudging Sam gently as he poured your drinks.

Natasha is the one who answered.

“We’ve been doing a tour of the genre classics. Tonight is the original Friday the 13th.”

“Brace yourself for Kevin Bacon in tiny red shorts,” Clint said with a yawn. “It's a lot to handle sober, so I suggest drinking. Heavily.”

“Can’t be any smaller than the blue ones Steve used to wear,” Bucky commented mildly. “But maybe the tights helped.”

“Wait - ”

“What?”

“You have no proof,” Steve responded smugly.

“I’m sure some of those posters survived.”

“None that made the shorts obvious.”

“There will obviously be some in-depth internet searching after this is over, but let’s focus up. We’ve got a movie to heckle,” Sam cut in as you tugged him onto an empty couch with you.

There was a chorus of sighs and vague shuffling as everyone claimed their spaces and settled in.

Under different circumstances, Sam might have considered this a successful movie night. Clint and Natasha offered well-timed commentary, and Steve and Wanda’s purposefully stupid questions made even Bucky laugh. But while you smiled along and responded cheerfully to any comments directed your way, you never seemed fully engaged. Your posture just a bit too stiff, laughter coming a beat too late, like you weren’t sure it was welcome. Like you didn’t know it was Sam’s favorite sound.

You were out of your element here, far past the bounds of your comfort zone, and it showed. But it was a sacrifice you were making for him, because he wanted you here, because he’d asked.

Most days, Sam couldn’t tell whether you liked him the way that he liked you. He still couldn’t. But maybe you being here meant something. So he decided to try again.

Sam carefully slid his hand into yours, keeping his eyes fixed on the screen as another camp counselor met a grizzly fate. He caught your glance in his peripheral vision but didn’t turn, keeping his demeanor casual and calm as your fingers laced together and you scooted closer on the couch.

“All the things you’ve seen, and scary movies can still getcha, huh?” you whispered, giving his hand a squeeze.

And no that wasn’t at all why he wanted to hold your hand, but it was hard to correct you when you were looking at him like that. Your eyes were sympathetic, smile comforting, as you reached to press his hand between both of yours.

“Guess so,” Sam answered evenly, thoroughly enjoying the way your thumb stroked gently over his wrist.

A conspiratorial spark flickered into your eyes and you leaned a bit closer.

“As long as you don’t sleep with Kevin Bacon I think you should be fine.”

“Damn. There go my evening plans.”

There was a laugh, a genuine one, sudden enough to make you snort as you dropped your head against his shoulder to muffle the sound. Sam grinned as you made an effort to calm yourself. You turned to face the movie again but stayed nestled against his shoulder, giving his hand another squeeze when he tilted his head to rest it against yours.

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We’ve got these two crazy kids cuddling, and that’s what I call PROGRESS. What’s the mood? How are we feeling about their prospects? What would you like to see from them?

Reblogs, comments, and asks make the world go round!

Chapter 3

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Tags: @shifutheshihtzu @internalbullshit @lilasiannerd-blog @kennadance14 @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @iwillbeinmynest @scotlandasshole @netflixa @hardcorehippos @singingprincessstudent @sophiealiice @blue1928 @tinuviel015 @jacks-on-krack @a-book-pressed-rose @fvckjamesbarnes @bbparker @battlebunnyteardropsinthesun @feelmyroarrrr @breezy1415 @orangespocks

#sam wilson x reader #sam wilson fluff #sam wilson imagine #sam wilson series #ssb2021

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whatifxwereyou · 3 years

Text

The Oncoming Storm Part 16: The Road Ahead

Liu Kang x Reader and Kung Lao x Reader (gonna do both, two paths!)

Here we go! Yay! I'm excited for the decision you guys made and worked on planning it out last night. Looking forward to some more Kung Lao followed by some delightful Liu Kang, followed by some shenanigans- and then the big choice. Then the fic will split and change names depending on who you wish to follow. I also have two more new fics on the way. I'm still sorting out the notes for those. One will be Liu, the other Lao. Lao's will be very action oriented and Liu's will be a bit more psychological. Hope you are all having a fantastic Monday! Much love and thanks for reading!

Part 15 Part 17 Chapter Index

You mulled over the decision but not for long. It wasn’t a difficult one. “I don’t see why we shouldn’t do it how you’re suggesting.” You shrugged. Kung Lao adjusted behind you. You were still weary but felt stronger as time passed, though marginally so. “If Kung Lao is excited about going to Japan, then he can come with me to Japan.” Just to prove that you could, you sat upright though you felt the weight of your body was still a bit too much for you. Kung Lao placed his hand on your lower back to help support you without drawing any attention to your wobbliness. You were very appreciative of his discretion. Every movement you made that was off, sent Liu Kang’s blood pressure through the roof. “And if Liu Kang is familiar with Huangshan, then that will give us a leg up there. We could use any advantage we can find. If I remember correctly, the Yellow Mountains are huge.”

Liu Kang nodded to confirm that it was true. You didn’t remember much about Huangshan other than what you had read about in school. From the little you did remember you were grateful to have a guide so you wouldn’t have to hike for days to search for an obscure point hidden amongst the rocks.

“Then it is decided.” Raiden looked to you for confirmation and you nodded.

“For the record, I promise that I’m not just excited about Japan and the festival. I’ve spent some time there so I’m familiar with getting around. Not specifically Mount Osore, of course but some familiarity is better than none.” Kung Lao then leaned closer to you and whispered with a grin in Japanese. “I’ll make sure that we’re both safe.” You smiled fondly. You spoke enough Japanese to get by. Your mother had grown up in Chiba and had spoken it often in your youth. You weren’t practiced and would likely be barely conversational but could get by better than most. You’d always wanted to go to Japan. This was a funny way to go about achieving that dream. Honestly, you’d never left home other than a few trips to Vietnam to take your students to competitions.

“Your trip will give me time to do a bit of research in Huangshan. I’ll do my best to see what I can find out before you meet me there.”

You urged Kung Lao’s hand away from your lower back and scooted away from his lap where he’d held you. Liu Kang, still crouched nearby, reached for your hand, and urged his fingers to your wrist to check for a pulse. You sighed and watched as Kung Lao tried not to laugh at your frustration. You waited patiently for Liu to get what he needed but when he didn’t let go, you decided to swat his hand away.

He smiled and turned his gaze, aware that he had lingered for much longer than necessary. The air in Raiden’s chamber was stifling. Between the haze of magic that you’d cooked up and being somewhat sandwiched between two of your favorite people, you could barely breathe. You were suddenly ecstatic to spend some time away from Raiden’s Temple. Not that you didn’t appreciate it. You did! But it would be nice to see the rest of the world. Yours had shrunk from your hometown to this temple and even though it was technically bigger than your hometown it was also out of time, in a way.

“We can head out as soon as Lord Raiden is ready to send us off.” Kung Lao seemed excited. “Right?”

“Immediately?” Liu objected.

“Why not? What are we waiting on, you think?”

“Do you really think that it’s the best idea to leave right this second, Kung Lao? Y/N just had a vision last night. And after what we just witnessed she can barely sit upright.” Liu Kang counted the reasons on his fingers. “Not to mention that I’m burnt out. I need rest.”

“Wow, the pun.”

“…not intended.” Liu considered and seemed pleased.

“Bull.” You teased and Kung Lao laughed and offered you a high five which you reciprocated. Liu rolled his eyes at them both with a heavy sigh.

“Joking aside, wouldn’t it be wise to take a day and be better prepared?”

“That seems like a waste of time.”

“There’s plenty to do today, Kung Lao. Find a place to stay while we’re there. Food. Clothing. Timing. Research where and how to approach this…” Liu counted the reasons again on his fingers.

“I…” You began.

“We can figure that out just as easily when we get to where we’re going.”

“And what if we’re attacked?”

“You really think that something’s going to hunt us the moment we arrive?”

“I don’t think-“ You tried again.

“Not the moment we arrive but we have to consider the possibility considering the way that voice spoke and what Lord Raiden saw.”

You decided to tune them out as they argued. Considering it was about you and your trip you were a little annoyed that they were talking as though you were not there in the room to help decide. You could feel Lord Raiden’s piercing gaze on you as if he were curious to see how you would handle being talked over.

“Listen, boys, your both pretty,” you spoke loud enough to interrupt them. Liu Kang and Kung Lao silenced, looking to you with wide eyes. “And you both make valid points but I’m making the decision. We’ll leave tomorrow morning. I need a chance to rest and prepare. And no, I’m not making this decision on either of your recommendations. This is what I think is best. I know that I’m too tired to do what needs to be done there today.” You scolded them but did so with a smile. It felt nice to be listened to. “This is my quest and you will follow my lead. Got it? I won’t be talked over and steam rolled by you two.”

“Got it loud and clear.” Kung Lao smirked. “I like take charge Y/N. She’s fun.”

Liu Kang on the other hand still looked incredibly worried. “Yes, of course. I’ll follow where you lead, Y/N.”

Raiden stepped closer and you could see the hint of a smile on his face. You were glad that you’d taken his silent encouragement to interrupt the two brothers. “Tomorrow morning you will meet me here and I will send you on your way.” He then turned to Kung Lao and offered him a look that was also a warning. “Remember, this is important.” Liu Kang narrowed his eyes at his brother as if to warn the same thing. You couldn’t hide your curiosity as to why that was. You would absolutely be asking about it later. What kind of trouble was Kung Lao know for getting into exactly?

“You two worry too much. I’m taking this very seriously.”

“When you are finished in Japan then Kung Lao will call me.” Raiden addressed you without further explanation. “I will return him here and send you to meet with Liu Kang in Huangshan.” How exactly would Kung Lao call upon him? You supposed that he was a god, so there was probably some unspoken magic. You’d make a point to ask Kung Lao about that later, too. It would be easier than asking Raiden. He really was intimidating.

“Will do.” Kung Lao smiled and Liu Kang nodded his agreement.

“I’m going to stop by the infirmary to get checked out now. Just in case. I don’t remember any of what went on here, but I can feel how tired I am.” You were nervous to try and stand on your own, but you also didn’t want to feel anyone else’s worry that day. You’d had enough from Liu the other night. You found his worry sweet, but also a little excessive. Liu Kang seemed surprised and impressed that you were going there on your own without him twisting your arm. Before he could say anything, Kung Lao had jumped to his feet.

“I’ll walk you there.” He offered you a hand. You rejected it and stood on your own, just to prove that you could, even if you hadn’t been positive that you could. It had been worth the effort it turned out, even if your legs were wobbly. Kung Lao had a way of making you wish to prove that you could do things beyond what you thought you were capable of. Even so, he offered his arm, unbothered that you’d ignored his hand. You took it. Your body was exhausted, after all. At least your neck had decided to continue supporting your head. You’d been through a lot lately and were grateful that your body listened to you at all.

“I’ll check in on you later.” Liu assured you and you smiled.

“See you then. Raiden? Thank you.” You bowed politely to them both and Raiden silently acknowledged your gratitude with a bow of his own. There was more that you’d wanted to say to Liu Kang, but Kung Lao was already leading you out of the room. You’d have time to talk to him later. You stole a glance over your shoulder and found him watching you go. Usually when you caught him staring, he would avert his eyes and go about his business but this time he offered you a knowing smile that made your heart flutter. Then he went to speak with Lord Raiden.

Kung Lao led you down the long hallway and around the corner. You pulled from his arm and leaned heavily against the wall once out of sight of Raiden’s chamber. With an exasperated noise, you let your full weight rest against the wall and caught your breath that you’d practically been holding. Your whole body was sore as if you’d worked out far beyond your limit. “I need a second.”

Kung Lao laughed and stood before you, amused. “Exhausted, huh?”

“So exhausted.” You swatted his hand as he reached for you and then whined as he urged his arm around your waist and pulled you away from the wall. You continued like that toward the stairs. He supported most of your weight but didn’t drag you or hurry you too quickly. “Thanks, Lao.”

“No problem, Y/N. Figured you needed an out and a little help to get it. Liu was radiating with worry. Kinda knew you were trying to save face especially after your cute little speech.” He teased but you were grateful that instead of making you sit and breathe, he was just dragging you along like it was no big deal. You did kind of want to lay down and sleep for a year though.

“He worries about me a bit too much, I think. I don’t want him to stress over me. Thank you for helping me do that and not just picking me up like I’m an invalid.”

“I get it. Happy to help.” He shrugged. “Definitely thought about picking you up and doing just that but you seemed particularly defiant after your episode, there.”

“I am feeling particularly defiant.”

“I can tell. And those dragons, Y/N, well, I’m impressed.”

“…how long was I out like that, by the way?”

“Oh, a long while. About an hour, I’d say.”

“An hour?” You gasped, stopping your walk and pulling a bit away from him, just so you could turn to face him. “Raiden and Liu had to keep all that back for that long?” What the hell? You could barely summon an ink jian yesterday and had made dragons, a vortex, and a throne for an hour while you were unconscious!

“Who’s worrying now?”

“No wonder he’s burnt out, Kung Lao! No wonder my body hates me.” You shook out your fingers. They were tingling on and off with numbness. Kung Lao urged you onward.

“Don’t feel bad about it, Y/N. It was awesome.” Kung Lao was beaming with pride. His smile was just like it had been when you were kids, but it suited him better now- with just the slightest hint of dimples and the cutest little wrinkle on his chin.

“It was terrifying. My body did all that without me.”

“When you can control it then you’ll change your tune.”

“Probably but still!” You weren’t sure that you would ever be able to control it to that extent at this point. Honestly, you were still perturbed that it had happened in the first place. Your body and arcana doing things without your permission, speaking in other voices? It was spooky and not in a fun Halloween sort of way. More of in a possessed-by-demons way.

“When we get to Japan, we’ll stop and pick something up to wear to the festival. Probably yukata? Going to look into the appropriate garb.” Kung Lao was apparently done talking about that now.

“You have no idea how much I long for new clothing.”

“Oh? But why?” Kung Lao looked you over while you walked. You were steadier as you went, less losing your footing and wobbling. His grip had relaxed on you, but he still kept his arm around you just in case. Probably. “You’re very cute in the hanfu.”

“Yeah, well your fancy Raiden’s Temple clothing is easier to function in. I need jeans, Kung Lao. Jeans and comfortable shirts! These are pretty but they’re a little too delicate for me. I certainly can’t fight in them. I’m not delicate. You know that.”

“I do. All too well.”

You shoved him playfully, but he didn’t let go of you. “You know what I mean.”

“I do. I get it. Still like the hanfu though.”

“Where did you get all yours, anyway?” You tugged on the jade ring on his belt. You loved what he wore. It was as though it had been personally tailored just for him. He smirked.

“You earn cool clothing with great power, Y/N. Someday you’ll earn your own too.”

“That’s a dumb answer.” You rolled your eyes at him. The trip to the infirmary was just about over and you were grateful for his conversation along the way. Your legs were tired of carrying your body around. Once inside, you waved at Chen who was across the room and surrounded by boxes. Chen smiled at you and held up a finger as if to tell you that she’d be with you in a moment.

You escaped Kung Lao’s arms and turned instead to face him. He folded his arms over his chest and smiled down at you. “Kind of feels like we’re in one of those movies we used to watch at your Grandma’s.” He sounded amused.

“Like Disciples of the 36thChamber?” You recalled one of your favorites. You had nearly destroyed the old VHS tape that your Grandma had recorded it on for you. You’d fast forward through the commercials, seated way too close to the television.

“Or Police Story.”

You smiled fondly in remembrance. Those were some of your happiest memories. You’d spent hours watching your Grandma’s tapes and then you’d go outside and pretend that you were skilled enough to be part of them. You’d held onto those memories tighter than most because he had died. It was still amazing to you that he was there and alive. You really should have talked about it but now wasn’t the time. When would it be though? “I’m not sure that what we’re about to do is going to be anything like those movies but I am pretty excited to remember what the rest of the planet looks like outside of this temple.”

“It’s a healthy reminder. Grounding. This place can be all consuming and a little overwhelming.” You were surprised to find that he understood the idea better than you had expected him to. Kung Lao was very much full of surprises. “Do you need me to stick around or are you okay down here on your own? I don’t love this place. Bad memories. Besides, I’ve got a dozen things to do before the day’s over and we’re on our way to Japan.”

“Oh? Is that so? You were pretty adamant that we leave immediately.” You teased.

“Does that mean you don’t want me to leave? Is that what you’re getting at?” He grinned, eyes sparkling in amusement. His whole face lit up when he smiled. It was remarkable.

“I didn’t say that. I’m just calling your bluff.”

“What bluff?”

“Boy, you can be frustrating.” You shoved his shoulder and he pretended to be pushed back and then smiled.

“Really though, can I go?”

“Go, Kung Lao. I’m fine here. Chen will help me if I need it.”

“Okay, okay.” He laughed and then walked backwards toward the doorway into the hall. “But if you need me then just send someone to find me.”

“Just go!” You laughed and as you turned away, you heard a crash behind you, as though Kung Lao had knocked something over while walking backwards. You did your best to resist looking backwards so that he could save face, but you laughed anyway. Then you took a seat against the far wall of the infirmary, waiting near where Chen was working. Moments later, Chen took the seat next to you with a smile. She looked tired but still happy to see you.

“I noticed that it wasn’t Liu Kang who brought you here today. And that Kung Lao was fully clothed.”

“…do you think that I’m strategically permanently disrobing them or something? I told you what happened this morning.” You furrowed your brow in sincere confusion at the accusation.

“One could hope. Perhaps I gave you too much credit.” Chen laughed and folded her hands neatly in her lap. You sat then in silence for a moment. “Are you here to gush more about Liu or…?”

“Or what? I’m actually here for medical reasons as I so frequently am? Since I have never once ever come to you just to gossip? Especially gossip about myself?”

“Or you could be here to talk about that dopey smile Kung Lao had on and the fact that he knocked over a whole stand of medical supplies on his way out. Or that he was in the infirmary willingly again. I can count the number of times he’s been here on one hand. At least before you got here. And those times were dragged in bloody and beaten.” You didn’t like the mental image of him bloody and beaten.

“You’re the most ridiculous gossip I have ever met.” You whispered in an accusatory tone.

“I know!” She shouted and you held your face in your hands and laughed. Chen had a way of making you smile more than anyone ever had. “Besides, you can do both those things while here. Gossip and the medical stuff. It’s called multitasking, Y/N.”

“I’m leaving for a few days on an errand. Wanted to check in before I go. Today was a lot too and I’m feeling particularly drained.”

Chen frowned.

You felt instantly slighted and turned your gaze to the floor. You were capable. Everyone worried about you, but you’d be fine. You knew this was scary and you kept repeating Raiden’s warning of death in your head, but you could do this. You would fight until your last breath.

“Why are you leaving?”

“Everyone looks at me like that, Chen. I’m fine.” That wasn’t true, you supposed. Kung Lao didn’t often look at you like that. Even as kids he hadn’t.

“Do you want me to list all the reasons that’s a lie? Because I could. I won’t and since you probably have to do this, I’ll send you with extra supplies just in case.” Chen shook her upset away and mustered optimism for your sake. You were grateful. “Are you going with Liu Kang? And more importantly, will you get to have any fun with Liu Kang? Or Kung Lao? I’m not picky at this point. Both very good looking.”

You ignored the gossipy remark and instead explained your vision that morning and very vaguely touched on where you had to go and what you had to do. You weren’t sure how much you should share so you were careful to leave out the most important details. To be honest, you had no idea what you expected to find in either place but it felt good to have a purpose that you knew you could achieve. You very briefly touched on the disturbing incident with Lord Raiden but avoided most of the messy details. You’d been dead unconscious through it, anyway. Chen’s face flickered back and forth between worry and trying to keep a smile up for you. You supposed you couldn’t blame Chen.

“Well, then I’ll make you a little kit to travel with.” Chen patted your shoulder and stood, setting about shoving supplies into a portable first aid kit nearby. She was filling it with the basics but also small bottles of pills and several syringes. She then set about writing instructions for how to use each of them. You were almost certain that you wouldn’t need any of it but were still grateful. “Just in case. Better to have it and not need it then need it and not have it.” She closed the small case and then handed it to you where you placed it in your lap. Then she took both of your hands and sat next to you.

“Thank you, Chen.”

“It’s no problem. This one though? This is a personal prescription given to you by your friend and doctor. Please. Please, I’m begging you. Get drunk. Make some stupid, immature mistakes with one or both of those men. Please? For me? I’m begging. Literally.”

“Ch… I… what?” You stuttered and felt your face burning again. You thought you’d gotten past that today. “Did you not hear the whole part about ancient sacred objects hidden away by a demon creature that I have to find? Or… were you not listening?”

“Oh, no, I heard you. But please… also do the other thing. You can do both. Really. I mean that in every way you can interpret it.” Chen let go of your hands and then tapped the medical kit. “Also, glance over the notes I wrote for you just in case you do need any of this stuff.”

“Oh my God, Chen.” You laughed, leaning your head back against the wall behind your chair. “…thank you for bringing some levity to all this.”

“Thank you for bringing me such delicious gossip all the time.”

You rolled your eyes but still smiled. You were grateful to have Chen looking out for your well-being both physically and mentally. It was so easy to get lost in the haze that was Liu Kang and Kung Lao but with Chen’s constant teasing and joking, it helped you from getting consumed by it. “Would you walk me back to my room by any chance? Not so great on my feet today.”

“Sure, but I’m going to tease you the entire time about Liu Kang being half naked in your room first thing this morning. Still not completely convinced that he was just being comforting unless that word had changed its meaning since I learned it. You kids these days and your slang.”

“Could you possibly keep your voice down?” You stood, slipping the medical kit under your arm.

“It’s fine, Y/N. Everyone in here knows already.”

“I-Chen! What?” You were stuttering again. They all knew? You looked around the room and several of the nearby monks nodded to confirm this was true. Your face was on fire again.

“You’re a fool if you think it’s not super obvious or something. In fact, we have a pool going on down here. One of us is going to be much wealthier after you’ve sorted things out.” Chen shrugged. “I am one of the only people voting for both.”

“You are all terrible monks. Every single one of you.” You said very loudly, and the other monks laughed. Some waved as you and Chen made your way out of the infirmary. Others wished you luck on your journey. One even whispered he was betting on Kung Lao. You suddenly felt very exposed. Were you really that obvious? Chen stayed close to you as you walked and steadied you as she needed to. After you were sure you could talk without dying of embarrassment, you couldn’t help but be curious. “…who’s winning this pool?”

“We all agreed that you’re not allowed to know. I’ll tell you much, much later down the road.”

You laughed, again grateful for Chen and how ridiculous she could be. You were exhausted but also excited for the journey ahead. The next morning you’d be meeting with Kung Lao and travel to Japan to a Buddhist shrine inside a caldera. It was enough to look forward to that it would keep you from dwelling on Chen’s teasing and what Raiden had barely touched upon that morning.

If you didn’t get rid of the shadow hanging over you then you weren’t going to live to see Mortal Kombat.

69 notes · View notes

abbysfrenchbraid · 3 years

Text

Nothing Else Matters

reference picture by @amisthiosintraining

anonymous said: Abby + Female reader, but it's Abby the one being f—cked with the strap on (I'm curious on that one)

Well, here you go. Abby and the reader have been hooking up for a while and the reader has managed to get their hands on some toys to make things more interesting. (5k words of SMUT)

content warning for bondage, light degradation and swearing, risk of exposure, ask to tag

Nothing Else Matters

The air in the room was damp and the smell of the sweaty bodies twitching and jumping reached your nostrils as you sat down to watch. You took off your sweater and placed it beside you, scanning the group of people for a familiar face.

There she was, her blonde braid flying as she whirled around, her face red and sweaty, full of concentrated rage. With an angry cry, she backhanded her partner across the face and sent him straight to the ground. She was glorious, muscles glistening in the neon light as she straddled the man on the ground and caught him in a headlock, grunting as she tightened her grip while he thrashed about trying to free himself. You could see her bicep flexing against his throat and his eyes widening at the sensation.

Finally, he tapped her underarm two times and she let go immediately, rolling off of him and laying on the ground next to him, arms and legs spread wide. The man with hazel hair and a short beard was half-coughing, half-laughing and clutching his throat while the other soldiers ignored the pair and kept training.

“Jesus Christ Abby, do you want to kill me?”

She huffed and sat up, giving him a pat on the thigh.

“You deserved it, always skipping combat training to fool around with Mel.”

“Oh, so that’s the reason you’re so angry! You’re jealous,” he laughed and immediately put his arms up in defense before she could slap him, but she only leaned back on her arms and shrugged. When she looked up, she caught your gaze and you almost believed she had known you were there all along. The look only lasted a moment, then she smiled back at Owen.

“I’m not, you know that. Why would I waste my time thinking about you when there’s someone a million times hotter than you?”

Owen gasped in feigned shock and sat up as well.

“Better than this beautiful face and these” - he flexed his biceps - “perfectly sculpted muscles?”

Now Abby actually slapped him. He stood up and reached out a hand to help her up.

“Come on, tell me who it is. A soldier?”

The blonde slapped his hand away and got up on her own.

“I’ll tell you if you win this next round. Let’s go!”

She clapped her hands and let him attack, dodging his first few punches with ease before knocking him back into another pair of fighting wolves.

You smiled to yourself and leaned forward to rest your elbows on your knees. As your thoughts drifted elsewhere, the heavy breathing and grunting became white noise and Abby’s arms were the only thing you saw.

Working as a cook, you had often seen her and her friends in the cafeteria, always joking around and making a mess, clearly the popular kids at the base. Abby had been the one to clean up after the boys and apologize for their behavior when they were gone, always making sure to thank your colleagues for their effort and be nice to everyone.

She had noticed you a few weeks ago when you were on your break, sitting alone at a table reading and enjoying the silence in the big hall between mealtimes. The wolf had come over and asked if there were some leftovers for her as she had missed lunchtime for an extra round of training. You had made her some food and kept her company, both of you quickly finding out you got along extremely well and had many shared interests, especially the books you liked to read.

It had gone very fast from there. Secret meetings in empty hallways, sneaking out from work to steal a kiss between the clothing racks, slipping into her room when Manny was away for missions, you always found your way into each other’s arms. While you hadn’t admitted to yourself that it was anything more than just sex, you also spent quite a lot of time just reading or watching movies together, cooking or playing cards and Abby had even shown you some self-defense and wrestling moves that always ended with the two of you naked.

While the wolf was usually very dominant and protective, it was entirely different when you were alone. After you had hooked up the first few times, she had asked you to be rougher with her, leaving you surprised but not at all disinclined.

You had found out that she actually liked to let go of all control and submit in the safe environment you had created for yourselves. While you had never really been super dominant before, you had quickly learned to enjoy this new role, always coming up with new ideas to make your lover squirm, suffer and cry beneath you.

Today you had something special in mind. Manny was out taking younger soldiers to an outpost for the first time and wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night, so you’d have the room to yourself.

Your friend Jessie was running a little secret business on the base and you had already purchased a few goods for yourself but never shared them with Abby. Jessie, a trained soldier that wasn’t on active duty because of an injury but still did regular patrol runs to secure the area, had made it her purpose to find all the sex shops in the city and bring back merchandise that was still good to use. Together with her girlfriend who worked in the clothing department, she had started to sell toys, lingerie, and anything of that kind you couldn’t get at the commissary.

You often had coffee with the two of them, referring them to new customers around the stadium and talking about your new sexual adventures. Of course they didn’t know your partner was Isaac’s top soldier, but they gave you a lot of good ideas. Today you had decided it was time to try something more daring. Jessie had shown you how to use the things you had bought and now they were lying in a bag between your feet, drawing your eyes and thoughts toward them and whispering to you about all the things you could do with them.

You were torn from your thoughts by the trainer in the corner clapping loudly.

“Alright guys, dinner’s in half an hour. Good work, I’ll see you on Wednesday. You too, Owen.”

She gave the grinning man a stern look, but he just winked at her and turned around to Abby.

“So, you gonna tell me who you’ve got your eye on?”

“Hell no, you lost three times. Try again next time.” Abby shoved him playfully and walked past him to collect her bag. She emptied half her water bottle in one go and looked up at you before splashing some water on her face. What a tease.

“You coming?” Owen was already at the door.

“I need a minute to talk to someone. I’ll see you at dinner.”

“Alright.” He shrugged and disappeared into the hallway.

The sweaty blonde casually came over to your bench and sat next to you, keeping a few inches between you.

“Did you enjoy the show?” You didn’t look at her but you could tell by her voice she was trying to stifle a grin.

“Oh, I most definitely did. It stopped far too soon though.” You turned your head and let your eyes wander over her freckled shoulders, her neck glistening with sweat and her chest still moving rapidly underneath the tight sports bra. “I was thinking maybe I could get a private encore back at your room.”

Abby suddenly sat up straight and her face seemed to go even more red than it already was. She was still staring at the floor in front of you, tightening her grip around the water bottle and biting her lip. You decided to take a risk and ran your fingertips over her lower back, otherwise completely relaxed and watching the remaining few people in case anyone noticed.

“You fought so well today, baby. What would they say if they knew how you surrender to me with a single word from me? How you’ll beg me to fuck you just for the chance of having my fingers inside of you?”

Abby let out a shaky breath and squirmed on her seat, a mere tilt of her head in your direction telling you she enjoyed this as much as she hated it.

“What would they say if they knew I have a rope inside my bag, waiting for me to tie you up and leave you completely defenseless at my mercy?”

Her knuckles were white from the tension in her hands and she pressed her thighs together.

“Baby…” she gave you a pleading look, “please stop torturing me.”

The last few people were clearing out and the trainer nodded at Abby who just raised a hand in greeting, trying to act normal. As soon as the room was empty you turned to her, grabbed her braid and pulled it down and towards you, her face only an inch from yours as a moan escaped her.

“Are you so needy already, you little slut?” You lightly pinched her breast and she whined, leaning into you and pressing her head against your collarbone.

“Please, please, baby, let’s go back to my room. I’ll do everything you want. I need you.”

You let go of her braid, stood up abruptly and turned to her. Abby immediately grabbed your thighs and pulled you in, pressing her forehead to the seam of your jeans. You put your hands on your hips and sighed.

“I don’t know, maybe we should have dinner first. Also, you need to shower, you’re filthy.”

In reality, Abby being all sweaty and hot made you want to pin her against a wall and lick her clean, but you kept that to yourself for now.

“Please, Y/N. I’ll be good. I can’t wait that long.”

You freed yourself and pulled her up, giving her a peck on the lips.

“You go shower. I’ll wait for you in your room.”

She smiled and quickly grabbed her stuff, stealing another kiss before rushing toward the community showers. Also not a bad place for some secret public action, you thought. Maybe in the early morning when no one was there. You could order the soldier to be quiet as you fucked her senseless and force her to relive the moment every time she took a shower afterward.

You slung the bag over your shoulder and grabbed your sweater, debating if you should make Abby have dinner with you in the cafeteria, teasing her the entire time and forcing her to keep calm in front of everyone while she was dripping wet for you. But you had to admit that you needed her, too. You could always get some leftovers for you later or wait until the morning when you had to work the breakfast shift anyway.

When you arrived at Abby’s room, you quickly looked left and right before entering and then headed straight for her bed. You took the smooth, black rope from your bag and laid it on the bed. Your second surprise could wait until later.

You let your fingers run over the spines of the books on the top bunk, smiling to yourself over the selection of old classics that definitely worked as a form of escapism from this place. Don Quijote, A Thousand and One Nights, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn. Abby didn’t seem like it at first glance, but she was a dreamer, always mentally wandering off and spending her time in other realities, ones where adventures were something you chose to go on. No infected, no sad remnants of what the world had once been, but beautiful landscapes, interesting strangers, and the joy of being alone but never lonely, wandering but at home anywhere in the world.

Her life had never been easy and she had suffered unspeakable pain, but she always found something worth smiling for, worth living for and she loved letting go of all the sadness and harshness and enjoying herself in those short, sweet moments when everything was okay.

Your time together had definitely made her happier than she had been in a long time and you were so, so good at letting her escape this reality and carrying her somewhere else.

The door opened and you snapped out of your reverie, turning around to see a freshly showered Abby come down the stairs to the lower part of the room. She was wearing shorts and a tank top, unintentionally showing off her round shoulders, her breasts, and her thick, hard thighs stretching out the fabric of her shorts as she walked towards you. Her hair was still wet and she had already brushed it, the dark strands falling over her shoulders and framing her beautiful, still slightly flushed face.

“Hey baby,” she murmured and moved in for a kiss. Her lips were incredibly soft, gently brushing against yours and opening slightly for her tongue to touch your upper lip. You grabbed the back of her neck and pulled her in, immediately deepening the kiss, dipping your tongue into her mouth and biting the blonde’s bottom lip. She sighed and fell into you, pushing you towards the bed but you grabbed a fistful of her hair and pulled without too much force, just enough to make her stand straight and look at you with pleading eyes. She knew it wasn’t going to be that easy.

You took a step back and looked her up and down.

“Clothes off.”

Abby’s eyes quickly went to the privacy shield next to her bed that she normally used to get dressed without half the stadium being able to see her naked, but you shook your head and she dropped her gaze, blushing again. You watched her as she pulled up the shirt over her head, revealing her freckled chest, perfectly sculpted abs and hard, dark pink nipples in the center of soft, ivory flesh.

When she ran her thumbs along the waistband of her shorts, she stared at you defiantly but you just held her gaze and smiled. You knew she was probably already dripping wet, secretly liking the risk and humiliation. If anyone were to walk by below you or stare up from afar knowing who’s room they were looking at, they would see the two of you facing each other, one clothed and one completely naked, the tension between you almost flickering in the air.

You stepped aside and pointed towards the bed.

“On the bed, Abigail.”

The wolf shuddered at your use of her full name and you could see goosebumps forming on her arms. She lay down on the bed and you took the rope, very content about her eyes widening at the sight. Before you could say anything she held out her hands, breath catching in her throat.

You wrapped the black rope around her wrists, gently pulling it tight, and tied her hands to the metal rods at the top of the bed. Still having a few meters left, you tied the next knot around Abby’s left ankle, fastening it to the bed frame pressed to the wall and doing the same to the other foot, spreading her legs and pinning them in place.

You crouched down next to her head, brushing a strand of hair out of her face and cupping her cheek with your hand.

“I know this is new for you and I promise you, I’ll never do anything you don’t want. Just say the safeword and I’ll stop.”

The blonde nodded, squirming in her restraints.

“Abby, I need to hear you say it.”

“I’m okay. I’ll let you know if something is wrong. Now can you please fucking touch me already?” She bucked her hips up and tried to pull down her hands to touch you, grunting in frustration when the rope didn’t let her move an inch.

You reached out and ran your fingertips over her collarbone, her chest and down over her stomach, stopping right above the curls between her legs. She tried to press her legs together to get some form of friction but and whined when she couldn’t, but you just let your fingers wander further down her leg and up the other, caressing the inside of her thigh. When your fingers came closer to her sex, her breathing got faster and she stopped moving, hoping you would grant her a touch now that she was good.

Watching her face, you ran a finger along her hot folds, immediately coating your fingertip in her juices. She gasped when you stopped to draw small circles around her clit.

“So wet already? God, you just love being completely in my power.”

You dipped your finger in the pooling wetness, holding back for just a moment longer. Abby was already a mess beneath you, her legs twitching and her back arching in response to your teasing. You suddenly pulled your hand away and her eyes flew open to stare at you with a mixture of frustration and pleading.

“What if I just let you lie there while I get myself off over here? Make you watch without being able to do anything about it while you lie in your own juices? Take you to dinner after while you’re all needy and soaked?”

Abby’s mouth twisted into a pout and she looked like she was about to cry.

“Please, Y/N, please touch me. I can’t take it any longer. Please?” The last word was a whine and you decided to stop being cruel.

With one swift motion, you pushed two fingers all the way inside her. The blonde cried out and immediately pushed back against your hand, craving more. You slowly pulled your fingers back out and made sure to catch her gaze as you put them in your mouth and licked them clean.

“Such a sweet girl.”

Her eyes were full of longing when she accepted your fingers into her mouth, sucking on them as she looked up at you. You moved your hand downwards again, pushing your fingers inside her much slower this time and pulling them out again, beginning to stroke her in a slow rhythm.

With your other hand, you squeezed her breast and trailed your fingers over her nipples before running your fingers along the delicate skin of her jaw and throat.

You picked up the pace, fucking Abby harder while her whining got louder. Curving your fingers upwards and letting them flutter against that tender spot inside her, you heard her breath stop for a second before she let out a high pitched moan. You didn’t give her time to catch her breath, now hitting her in all the right spots, your fingers thrusting deep inside her and your thumb on that sweet, pulsing nub that had patiently waited for its turn.

It was wonderful, watching the small muscles on her stomach contract and her broad thighs pull on the restraints as she got closer and closer. Her whole body was tensing up and her moans got faster and higher until she cried out “I’m gonna cum, can I please cum!” and you immediately pulled your hand away.

She almost screamed in frustration.

“Baby, please, I’m so close!”

You slowly drew your digit along her bottom lip.

“Only if you ask me nicely. No cumming without my permission.”

She licked the tip of your finger and looked up at you.

“I promise I’ll be good, please.”

You lightly scratched her stomach on the way down and she trembled at the sensation. This time you lightly placed two fingers on her clit and started rubbing it in slow circles, never losing your pace as your lover’s moans got louder again. As soon as she asked if she could cum, you stopped moving but left your hand in place, keeping her dangerously close to the edge and to the possibility of a ruined orgasm.

The wolf was now actively fighting her restraints, pulling her hands downwards and trying to get loose but you had known what you were doing and the knots didn’t budge. Some strands of hair had fallen into her face, a thin coat of sweat was glistening on her forehead and between her breasts. She was a mess.

“Baby, please, please, I’m begging you. Please let me cum.”

You slid a finger inside her again, brushing against her g-spot as you gently put your other hand on her lower stomach and pressed down. She arched beneath you, pushing her hips into your touch and letting out a much deeper, almost animalistic groan. You took your time driving her closer and closer to that sweet high and waited for her to ask again, knowing she was scared to lose your fingers again but also not wanting to be punished for not asking permission.

Finally, she couldn’t wait any longer. “Can I please cum, please, please, oh god -”

The words fell from her lips just as you pressed the pad of your thumb to her clit.

“Cum for me, baby.”

You were out of breath, pressing your thighs together to soothe the ache that had been growing between your legs. Suddenly the wolf beneath you cried out, her entire body twitching and convulsing around your fingers as you carried her through her orgasm. When she finally stopped moving, the room was filled with the sound of both of you panting and the smell of sex, sweat and heat had spread in every corner.

Slowly, you pulled your fingers from the blonde’s body and got up. She was still disoriented and gave you a confused look as you bent down to pick up your bag.

“You gonna cut me loose here?”

You didn’t reply, instead choosing to pull your shirt over your head and take off your pants and ignoring your lover’s squirming.

“I got something else for you. I know I already make you scream with the touch of a single finger, but I think it’s time I gave you something bigger.”

Her eyes widened as you pulled a harness and a small package out of the bag. Sitting down next to her, you opened the carton and pulled out a black silicone dildo. Abby visibly shifted next to you and pressed her lips together, unwilling to give away her thoughts. As if she had any chance of hiding from you how much she wanted you to fuck her senseless, to make her see stars and completely destroy her.

You turned to her. “I need you to tell me what you want. We can do this another time or not at all. I’m all ears.”

You knew exactly what you were doing. While being an absolute service top, it was also extremely fun to watch Abby blush and stammer trying to pluck up the courage to tell you what she wanted. She was always so shy and embarrassed about wanting to be dominated, so you had made it your little game to force her to admit it.

“You can do whatever you want with me, baby.”

“Oh Abs, you know you don’t get it that easily. What do you want me to do with it?”

She tried to avoid your gaze.

“You could fuck me with it?” she mumbled.

“I didn’t hear you. Speak up.” Oh, this was so much fun.

“Fuck you! You heard me right, you’re just teasing me.”

You slapped her breast and she sucked in a sharp breath.

“You don’t speak that way to me, you little whore. Don’t think I haven’t noticed how you’ve been eyeing that dick. You want me to fucking ruin you and you’re too cowardly to say it. How disappointing.”

With a theatrical sigh, you got up and took a few steps towards your clothes on the stairs.

“Wait, baby, please. I’m sorry. Please.”

You turned on your heel and stared at her, lifting a brow.

“Come here, please. I want you to fuck me. Fuck me until I can’t do anything but scream your name. Please, baby.”

Satisfied, you stepped into the loops of the harness and put the dildo through the metal ring, pulling everything tight as you felt Abby’s eyes roaming over you. Then you were next to her and started untying her feet. On second thought, you loosened the rope around her wrists as well.

“I’m not making this easy for you by tying you up. Your hands stay at the head of the bed. If you touch me, I’ll stop. If you behave, I’ll think about letting you cum a second time.”

The fear in Abby’s eyes was exhilarating. She nodded.

“Am I allowed to make noise?”

You thought about it for a second, then you agreed. This was the first time with a strap on, it would surely be hard enough to keep her hands still.

Checking to see if you’d need more lubrication, you inserted a finger into her - she was dripping wet.

“Pathetic.”

Before she could respond, you spat into your hand and coated the dildo in it. The wolf audibly swallowed at the sight. You knelt between her legs, rubbing your hand over her abs and breasts and mixing your saliva with her sweat. Goosebumps grew on her freckled skin.

Slowly, you lined yourself up with her throbbing cunt and started pushing into her. When you were all the way in, you stopped for a moment so Abby could adjust to the size. You slowly ran a hand up her body again and wrapped your fingers around her throat.

“I want to hear you.”

She gasped as you pulled out just a tiny bit and thrust back into her.

“Fuck me, please. I can take it. Fuck me hard.”

Without taking your hand off her, you pulled all the way out and watched her face as you pushed back into her with deep, hard strokes. She melted in your fingers. Her expression was a mixture of surprise, lust, satisfaction, a little bit of pain and an ever-growing hunger.

“Faster, baby,” she whined, her hands twitching towards your face for a moment before she stopped herself and pushed her hips up against you instead.

Deciding the wolf had begged enough, you straightened up and started picking up a faster pace. She started moaning, arching her back and pressing her hands against the metal bed frame. Going faster and faster, you savored every second of seeing her writhe beneath you, hearing the slaps of your skin against hers and the delightfully obscene wet noises her cunt made as it swallowed every thrust.

The strap on and the leather front of the harness worked just right in putting pressure on your clit, your breathing getting harder from effort and arousal at the same time. With one swift motion, you grabbed Abby’s ankles and pulled them up on your shoulders to get a deeper angle.

She let out a deep, coarse moan coming from deep within her and her eyelids flew open. Giving her a devilish smile, you folded your arms around her legs and began slamming your hips into her, your groans falling into the rhythm of Abby’s cries. Her biceps flexed deliciously as she pulled on the bed frame and threw her head back in ecstasy, a steady flow of curses streaming from her mouth.

Losing strength in your arms, you let go of her legs and they fell to your sides as you dropped forward onto your lover’s chest, keeping a steady pace. The friction to your own core was much stronger now and you felt yourself getting close to the peak.

“Touch me, now!” you commanded and her arms flew down and closed around your back, holding you close while digging her nails into your skin. She dragged them down as you fucked her harder, leaving burning streaks on your shoulder blades. Her legs also closed around your hips, amplifying your thrusts into her as you grabbed a fistful of her hair and made her scream out in pain and pleasure. You wanted her to cum with you, to ride this high together.

“Baby, I’m so close.” Finally.

“Come for me, Abby.” You sank your teeth into her throat and tightened your grip in her hair, grinding into her with all your strength until you both started crying out each other’s names, scratching and grabbing at each other’s bodies as waves of pleasure rushed over you and made you twitch and shake.

Still inside her, you lay on Abby’s chest, both of you coated in sweat, spit and each other’s juices. She ran a hand through your hair and drew the pad of her thumb over the red marks on your back.

“Oh Y/N, what are you doing to me?”

You reached back a hand to loosen the straps of the harness and lifted your head to look at the flustered blonde. Slowly, you pulled out of her and enjoyed the almost unnoticeable twitches of her face, small echoes of the sensations she had felt minutes before. The strap on fell to the floor with a heavy thud and you both had to laugh at the sound.

Abby sighed and pulled you closer.

“I think every single person on the base either saw or heard us. Or both.”

You buried your face between her breasts and soaked in her wonderful musk before licking a line all the way up to her earlobe.

“Do you care?”

She laughed again, her chest vibrating against yours.

“Not really, no. When I have you, nothing else matters.”

You both paused for a second, letting that sentence sink in. Carefully, you placed a soft kiss to her lips and she deepened it, caressing your tongue with hers and gently biting your bottom lip.

You would have to have this conversation sometime soon. But right now, it was enough to feel the deep, intense connection between you as you nestled your face in the crook of your lover’s neck and she pulled a sheet over both of you, enjoying this moment together without thinking of anything else, especially not the future.

When you were together, nothing else mattered.

Author’s note: Thank you for reading, feel free to tell me what you thought 💌 if you’d like, you can support me by buying me a coffee 💛

#abby anderson #abby tlou #abby tlou2 #abby anderson fanfiction #abby anderson smut #smut #the last of us 2 #the last of us fanfiction #abby anderson x reader #abby x reader

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relaxedreptile · 3 years

Text

Don’t Rock the Boat

Pairing: Hyunjin X Fem!Reader

Sexual Content (fingering, unprotected sex, handjob... they have sex on a pool float). Swearing.

A/N: Oh my gosh! It’s been so long since I’ve posted any of my writing on here. I hope you all can forgive me, 2020 has been hectic for everyone, after all.

I have been working on this specific piece since before Summer even started this year (hence the theme) and I just finished it a few minutes ago! I’ve been working on it in between classes and during breaks and even deleted half of it at one point to rewrite.

I hope this was worth the wait!

I love you, all. Happy New Year!

The warmth of the sun soaked into your skin and bones, releasing your body from the lingering clutches of the frigid winter, rainy spring, and bleak school year. Finals week was quickly approaching so you and your friends had decided to link up at someone’s house before you were all inevitably holed up in your respective bedrooms for the next few days, studying for one exam or another.

Chan’s house was everyone’s first (and only idea) due to the fact that he had a pool and he was nice enough to give in and host. You were excited to put yourself in a swimsuit for the first time in months and enjoy some of Chan’s mom’s incredible cooking (she always asked you guys to stay for dinner).

You and the boys had already spent a lot of time in the pool, racing each other or playing volleyball on the little net Chan and Minho had set up before you guys got here. After having to listen to Changbin complain about his team being put in the deep end for a good hour, everyone was exhausted and had chosen their favorite pool floats or chairs to relax.

A shadow settled over you, blocking the sun from hitting your face. You furrowed your eyebrows in annoyance, opening your eyes to see what the cause was.

One of your best friends, Hyunjin, was smiling down at you.

“Hey, sleepyhead, mind if I join?”

You were laid out on a huge raft in the shape of a swan. There was definitely room for two people, but you wanted to tease.

“But I’m so comfy,” you whined, pouting at him for extra good measure. “You’re really gonna make me move?”

He knew what you were doing and decided to play along.

“Fine!”

Hyunjin dove underwater, disappearing from view and making you a little nervous for whatever he planned on doing.

You felt pressure against your body through the bottom of the float, a warning push. Your stomach dropped, knowing what was about to happen. You wrapped your arms around the neck of the fake swan, hoping it would be enough to save you.

With one more push from Hyunjin, you tumbled into the water.

Naturally, this set off a full on war between you and Hyunjin that the other boys did not want to get involved in. You and the tall boy were ruthless when it came to teasing in general, let alone when you had a school year’s worth of stress to let out.

You and Hyunjin were splashing, tackling, and throwing towels at each other much to the annoyance of the rest of your friends who were usually just as chaotic you guys but were not up for getting soaked right before lunch.

A few of the boys were too focused on dragging everyone’s bags away from the pool and protecting your phones from the full-fledged battle happening in Chan’s backyard.

Once you tired yourselves out, resting against the edge of the pool, the origin of your fight came back to the front of your mind.

Your gaze shifted to the white swan floating at the other end of the pool, completely unbothered despite the havoc that was wreaked.

Hyunjin didn’t catch on in time to stop you from getting your head-start but he was right behind you in no time, his long limbs making him too good of a swimmer for your ambitions.

Both of you reached the float at the same time, scrambling to get over the edge before the other could.

You watched as Hyunjin practically threw himself onto the float. He did it before you could, to be fair, but not by much. You had pushed yourself up already so it was too late to stop yourself from landing right on top of your best friend.

Your chests were pressed against each other, heaving after the effort you both put into the ordeal. Hyunjin had placed one of his hands on each of your hips in an attempt to cushion your fall and he still hadn’t moved them, too tired to realize any implication.

The other boys had long escaped into the safety (and dryness) of Chan’s house, choosing a home-cooked meal over mediating the pool fight. It was just you and Hyunjin, breathing against each other’s skin.

You raised yourself up on your elbows, about to make another snarky comment, but stopped when you made eye contact with the boy underneath you.

His long blond hair his was laid out around his head, sticking to his bare neck and shoulders. Your gaze flickered down to the tanned chest beneath you, looking back to his face before you got distracted by the water droplets on his defined stomach.

“Oh, no!” Hyunjin joked. “You’ve got me pinned, please, have mercy!”

You stayed silent, gaze locked on his parted lips. He was still breathing hard and each breath pressed his chest against yours with the act.

Hyunjin was a little confused by your lack of response, expecting you to throw in any extra jab that you could at the boy before dragging him to join everyone else inside.

“You know, I technically got to the float first after all. Don’t I get a prize for winning?”

Your bent elbows keeping you from crushing him, you leaned down until your face was right above Hyunjin’s.

“What are you going to do to me?” He tried to continue the jokes but his tone was completely serious.

Your lips brushed against his, teasing. You took his bottom lip between your teeth before releasing it slowly.

Hyunjin shot up, his arms around your body being the only reason you didn’t fall backward into the water, and caught your lips with his.

The two of you adjusted yourselves until you could successfully straddle the boy underneath you. You ignored the shifting of the pool float, too focused on the feeling of kissing your best friend to worry.

Your tongue swiped across Hyunjin’s lip, making him groan and part them to invite you in deeper. He tasted like lemonade and chlorine and you vowed to kiss him until you ended up tasting the same.

Hyunjin pulled your hips down against his own, letting you feel how hard he was, how much he was enjoying this. You gasped into his mouth and pressed your body closer to his. Rolling your hips against his, you let him feel the heat between your legs.

His grip on your body tightened, hands moving to cup your ass over your bathing suit. You allowed your hands to trail down his chest and stomach, tracing the lines of his muscles with your fingers.

You went a little lower and started to play with the string of Hyunjin’s swimsuit.

Hyunjin broke the kiss to start mouthing at your neck, sucking at the sensitive skin under your jawline.

“Please keep going,” he pleaded.

You smiled, leaning into his touch and making quick work of the small knot keeping you from touching Hyunjin.

You slipped your hand under his waistband, rising up on your knees to have better access. Your fingers trailed the length of his hardness before wrapping around him and starting to pump.

Hyunjin sighed and buried his face in your chest. His thumbs were drawing circles on your back, making sparks shoot down your spine.

Your thumb swiped across the head of Hyunjin’s cock, collecting the beads of precum there to make the slide of your hand easier. You pumped his length slowly, wanting to see how long your best friend could last underneath you.

Hyunjin had started sucking bruises into the skin of your breasts, his long fingers playing with your nipples through the fabric covering them.

You threw your head back while your hand that was wrapped around Hyunjin sped up; you felt too good to think about teasing right now.

You cried out once Hyunjin started to bite at your skin, leaving light red marks amongst the purple ones. Hyunjin was fully hard now, the head of his cock a pretty pink color. You were thinking about how you could get him into your mouth when you were flipped over, your back landing against the pool float.

Hyunjin didn’t waste any time before connecting your lips once again, swallowing the noises you were making thanks to the way he was rolling his hardness against your heat.

Your hands reached around to his hips to yank his swimsuit down, freeing his cock completely. It slapped against your pussy, bumping against your clit and making you whine.

Hyunjin traced your folds with his fingers, running them up and down your slit through your bathing suit.

“Hyunjin,” you whined, pulling at his hair as he started working on your neck again, “please just get your dick inside me.”

You felt him laugh against your skin, chuckling a few times yourself before the noise got stuck in your throat once Hyunjin slipped a finger inside of you. He hadn’t taken your bathing suit off, just pushed it to the side, and the feeling of the fabric catching on your clit with every pump of his finger made you see stars.

You tipped your head back as more of his fingers joined the first one. You felt a rush of cold as your hair touched the water beneath the two of you.

“Do you think you could take me now? The water might make it-”

You were already grabbing his dick, sliding it between your folds as you looked up at him with another one of your pouts.

“Okay, okay, fine. Just tell me if it hurts.”

You smiled up at Hyunjin, getting one in return before he started lining himself up at your core.

You pulled him down to kiss you once he was fully inside you, wrapping your legs around him to pull him closer.

“Oh my god,” you cried out after his cock brushed against that spot inside you. “How do you already feel this good?”

Hyunjin smirked at the way you reacted to one of his thrusts.

“I was about to say the same thing about you, baby. When were you gonna tell me you had a pussy like this?”

“Like what?” You egged him on.

“You’re so fucking tight, so fucking warm. I don’t think I’ll be able to even look at anybody else without thinking about how good you feel.”

He went back down to kiss you again, rolling his hips into yours as he pressed your bodies together. His body moved like water, flowing seamlessly into yours as he took you apart with every drag of his cock inside your walls.

His lower stomach bumped into your clit with every movement of his body above yours. He was so big and deep inside of you that you swore you could feel him in your stomach. Hyunjin’s presence was overwhelming, you felt him all around you as he found a way to touch every sensitive part of your body at once.

His thrusts started to speed up. His skin slapped against yours as he rose up on his arms to get a better angle. You grabbed his wrist to ground yourself, trying to stay sane despite the mind-blowing feeling of Hyunjin’s body and everything it was doing to yours. The muscles in his arms looked amazing with how hard they were working to keep him upright.

The sun in the sky had dried the water off of his body, making his skin look soft and golden. You watched his face as he pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, brows furrowing in concentration as he tried to bring you both to climax. It hit you, then, that you didn’t want this to be a one-time thing. How could you let this beautiful boy go after experiencing what he could do to you?

You reached up to push his blond hair out of his eyes, locking your gaze with his as his hips stuttered before slamming into yours one more time. You forced your eyes to stay open to watch Hyunjin’s face as he came, so tempted to lose yourself in the feeling of being filled.

He collapsed against you, breathing heavily like before, slipping his hand between your bodies to rub your clit.

“Come on, baby, you gotta cum for me. I wanna feel you cum.”

Your mouth fell open in a silent moan as you came, clutching Hyunjin to your body as he helped you ride out your orgasm. You felt him twitch inside of you and both of you whimpered.

You both fixed your bathing suits, collapsing side-by-side onto the swan float, trying to catch your breaths.

“Hey! Are you guys finally done fighting? Chan’s mom wants to know what you want for dinner!”

Hyunjin and you looked at each other, squinting in the sun, and laughed so hard you almost tumbled into the water below.

#hwang hyunjin #hyunjin #hyunjin fluff #hyunjin angst #hyunjin smut #stray kids #stray kids fanfiction #rr:hwang hyunjin

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boogiewrites · 3 years

Text

Burning Star

Chapter 1

Characters: Din Djarin/The Mandalorian / Reader / You

Summary: Din Djarin is a long-time associate and friend. When faced with the truth about the creed he's taken, doubts begin to grow in his mind about his choices. He comes to you, looking for a confidant and he finds more than he bargained for. Begins latter part of S2, porn with plot. A growing romance between two characters that thought of themselves as solitary creatures now wanting to no longer be alone. But with The Mandalorian being who he is, things can never be so simple.

Warnings/Tags: Sexual Content. Dry humping. Confessions of feelings. Hurt/Comfort. Touch Starved.

Click on my icon then go to my Mobile Masterlist in my bio for my other works and chapters. (Had to do this since Tumblr killed links, sorry.) Please like, comment and reblog if you enjoyed it! It helps out us writers A LOT!

You couldn’t recall the exact BBY you’d met The Mandalorian. But then again, you weren’t even sure of your birth year, so dates tended to blend into one another in your memory. You recalled every encounter though, every mission he’d asked you to assist him on, the times you’d healed him and his ship, and especially the time he’d come to your planet for refuge with a strange but endearing little green creature. Your small, backwater planet didn’t have much. But that was one of the main things that had drawn you to it. Your parents were nomads, and you’d adopted the same after their death. So you made yourself a home on a green little planet after years of travel. It homed tiny hubs for weary travelers dotted along with the mountainous surface. But the one they called Mando always came to yours.

You had entertained the idea of becoming a Mandalorian after your parent’s death. They were prospectors, planet-hopping and hoping to make a fortune. On one expedition the Imperials decided the planet you and hundreds of others were on was now theirs for the resources. If you want to call it luck, you did live. You were taken in by an orphanage, one of many overrun with children just like you. You were full of anger and hurt and wanted revenge.

You were caught one night, trying to leave, and a woman fatefully saw you and brought you back in, having the first real heart to heart you’d had in your life. With tears in your eyes, you said you wanted the people who killed your parents, dead. You didn’t see this as unreasonable and you still didn't truthfully. You had read about The Mandalorians and were going to join them you’d told her. You were going to learn to fight and be a warrior and take your revenge. Young and full of rage, this was the only thing that made sense. But this woman, who had been watching you knew better than you did. She saw your softness, that capacity for love and sensitivity, and stopped you.

“Do not let their hate make you hard. It’s what they want. You will act recklessly and in their interests with hate in your heart. The only way to defeat evil is with kindness and love.”

It didn’t make sense at the time and when you were in a heated mood you liked to act like it still didn’t. But she was right.

You had previously spent your days reading and learning, drawing the various landscapes your parents took you too and trying to befriend the local fauna. You were a curious child that grew into a curious adult and you had fought hard to keep that sensitivity the woman told you of. So far, it had served you well.

This didn’t mean you didn’t fight. You had to to survive, but when the opportunity for kindness arose you always gave the other being a chance. But if they betrayed that trust you killed them. It seemed fair when it all came down to it. Philosophically speaking, anyway.

You had settled a store for supplies on a long-abandoned mining planet where a nearly extinct mutated species of Nexu lived in the caves under the planet’s surface. You’d protected them for generations now and they trusted you. But they were deadly to anyone else. There were rumors of the mines not being empty, of treasures left behind because they were too tricky to extract. You knew this wasn’t true. You and your toothy, furry associates had explored every bit of the caves that you could find. But that didn’t stop the desperate from trying. This was unfortunately the root of most of the violence in your life. At least you were protecting others in the meantime.

Maybe that’s what drew your Mandalorian to you. He had taken one way, The Way, and you had taken another. You saw in each other what you could have been. He’d given in to his anger and rage when he was young, and you had learned to see past yours. You had the empathy that came from years of self-reflection and control. You had taken different paths, and you both found what was missing in each other. You had the excitement of helping him on quarry hunts on a handful of occasions and he could hide and mend when needed. It was a balance, much like the force you’d read about, and it fell into place without much effort.

Wasn’t it the way that days that began like any other would lead to things you’d never expected? This day was no different. You had previously been most excited about the stew you’d been brewing for the second day, taking your sweet time with an old recipe you’d found in one of the books one of your neighbors had given you. The term neighbor is used loosely as it would be a day's walk, at the least, to the closest person.

The excitement sparked inside your chest as you went out to greet whoever happened to be landing in the field by your settlement. Then you saw the relic hovering above the broken blades of grass. You hadn’t seen a Razor Crest since his and it was easy to know who was going to come off the ramp when it happened upon your humble patch of the planet. You shield your eyes from the burning sun, close this time of the year as the glint off his Beskar armor sends a shock to your eyes.

It was a relief to see you, he thought. Something familiar, consistent, and warm to come back to after the turbulent journey he’d found himself on with the child.

“Hey, stranger!”You call out loudly, waiting for him to be closer so you didn’t have to shout and scare the foul in the surrounding trees. “I know it’s not repairs bringing you in. Your ship is shining like the Bright Star it’s in such good condition. You been on a vacation or something?”

He knew you were joking, his eyes relaxing under his helmet even though you couldn’t see. “Just got back.” his voice hits your ears, the gritty muffle of mechanical filter making it feel remote. You let him approach you, before reaching to hug him. It was something he’d had to get used to, and something you insisted on. After growing close during your time spent on his ship, the trauma bonding of violence and high stakes forced intimacy between two otherwise solitary creatures. For as long as you spent apart, the time picked up where it started when you came back together. Almost dying is hard work, and saving another from it tends to fasten the bond between people with surprising speed.

You had never shied away from him, he’d never given you a reason to. You approached life with an open heart and only shut it to protect yourself when needed. The contact felt soothing despite his hard outer layers. Both physical and figurative. A wrap of strong arms around his helmet, the weight of someone against him, a slight tug down from the height difference. It all felt very sincere, very human to him. At the moment that’s all he was certain about. The helmet hid the troubled eyes that would’ve given him away, and he found himself thankful for it.

“Always good to see you, Manny.” you give him a good squeeze, a kiss to the helmet that you polish out, cooing up at him with attentiveness. You’d refused to call him Mando any longer after one particularly heinous mission. Calling him something everyone else did, something so generic, didn’t fit. So a pet name it was. He’d never had one before. He secretly preferred it. “This Beskar keeping you safe?” you ask, buffing the spot with your sleeve and then patting his chest plate.

“Yes.” he nods. “Except for all the people trying to kill me for it.” You laugh and pat his hard head.

“Can’t blame them. Stylish... strong... beautiful. Just like you, huh?” you give him a wrinkled nose snort and you hear the grunt of amusement and note the subtle nod.

“What I’m best known for. My looks.”

He spoke with such a monotone delivery that his jokes might’ve not landed to someone more fearful and not as knowledgeable of the Mandalorian's personality under all that flash. “Where’s your little guy?”

No sooner than the words were out of your mouth than a gurgle and chirp from a perfectly him sized sack hanging off his shoulders appeared the little green wrinkly friend. “Always close by. Except when I tell him to be. Then he prefers to wander.”

“This goo ball wouldn’t be bad would you?” he tilts his oversized ears and blinks at his father figure as if he’d brutally insulted him. “Never.” you coo and give him little rubs under his jowls. His eyes shut and he happily soaks up the affection. “C’mon. Let's get inside. I bet you’re hungry.”

“He’s always hungry.” a slightly disgruntled Mando grumbles behind you.

“Sounds like you need to eat too.” you retort, hears his heavy footsteps behind you as you enter the humble building you’d built. It was made from the trees that used to fill the little clearing where the landing pad and accommodations were now. They grew fat and had many low, heavy limbs, perfect for construction. The floor was wooden, the walls a mixture of found metal, clay, and beams, same as the roof which made a lovely sound when it rained and kept the harsh seasons out. Dried flowers and herbs hung from low rafters, all part of the long list of things you did to keep yourself busy. You loved making, and your space reflected that. Despite it not being used by anyone but yourself that often, you kept it clean. Shelves and bins as you entered, a small counter for business off the side, a few small tables and chairs on the other side of the large square space with a small kitchen and refresher through doors on the far wall. It wasn’t much, but you’d made it all and it’d served its purpose thus far.

You sit the child down on a table with a cushion in it, letting his round head reach just over the tabletop. He reaches for the flowers in a bottle while you speak and Mando keeps the child's hand from breaking anything.

“Here you go. Been simmering for two days. Broth, meat, and some herbs and veg from the garden. Doesn’t get better than that little one.” You hand him a tiny spoon you’d carved for his equally tiny hands and he makes a confused sound.

“She made that for you, remember? Be nice, use your manners.” he motions towards it with a nod. You watch the child struggle for a moment before giving up and raise the small bowl.

“That works too.” you grin. “You want some? You could get the broth through that absorption accessory I made you.”

“It was destroyed during a mission recently.”

“Ah.” you nod and purse your lips. “I think I have parts to make another.”

He was used to paying for things being made for him. But you and your hobby of tinkering in a little bit of everything had led to a few things that were one of a kind. You’d made a long device that could fit under his helmet to allow liquids to be consumed without removing his helmet. He thought it was thoughtful but it was purely selfish as you were tired of him not eating your food. Before, you had bartered to eat together in separate rooms so you could get feedback. He wasn’t very good at it. Eating to live was his main purpose of doing it at all, not like you that lived to eat.

“Thank you.” is his quiet reply. There’s an easy silence watching the child burp and gulp and making a mess of himself in the process.

“What brings you in this time? You need me to open up the hut? I’ve still got fuel.”

“I’ll refuel before I leave.” You were used to his pauses, but something felt different, you could feel the consideration for his words churning in the silence. “I came to speak to you about something.”

“I can’t tell if this is good or bad.”

“I’m not sure myself.”

Your brow furrows and you lean across the table to engage him. “In trouble again?”

He is still and quiet for another beat. “I found other Mandalorians.”

Your eyes grow wide, “Oh.” you process the information, your surprise clear on your face, you had never been good at keeping control of your expressions. “Is that... not good?”

“We found a common ground and helped each other. But I feel as if I have more questions than I did before. I was so certain before of my standing within the Mandalore creed. I was raised by it, swore to it. And now...”

“What happened Manny?” you reach across and put your hand over his, the child coos at the action. The child could feel emotions, pick up on non-verbal things others couldn’t, and he knew when you were around, his protector was much happier.

“I come from a segment of Mandalorians that broke away from society. They have very different views of The Way. They told me I belonged to a cult of religious zealots.”

“Wow. They didn’t sugar coat that at all did they?” you pat his hand and try to not come off as condescending about it.

“I was not aware of this. This… difference.” you give him a sympathetic smile even though you aren’t sure if he’s looking at your face.

“What do you mean differences?”

“As soon as I met them they removed their helmets.”

“Oh well, yeah that would…” you nod, “That’s a big difference.”

“Have you read about the Children of the Watch? I know you were fond of reading of Mandalore as a child.” he asks with a touch of warmth to his words, as if it made him proud to say it about you.

‘A bit yes. There’s not much about them out there. They’re very strict and secretive. They didn’t want the progressive Mandalorians corrupting what they saw as the true Way. You all believe in being warriors and protecting what’s yours. The helmet thing seems to be the biggest deal.”

“It’s given me… concerning thoughts.”

“Do you mind if I give my opinion on it?”

“That’s what I came for.” his words made you feel special, like you mattered. They didn’t have the tainted burn of someone that wanted to use you or what you for their gain. He came to you to talk. You were flattered.

You turn your body to face his direction, both hands on top of his large, still armored one that he stared at for a moment while you spoke. Watching your hand's flowery movements to accompany your points broke his concentration on them. “I believe this equates to my discovery that I’m not human.”

His attention is grabbed, head swinging up and the child taking notice.

“I am mostly, but I have Cathar in my bloodline....”

It made sense, he thought, he pieced things together, your angled golden eyes, the large swell of hair you styled in various ways, sometimes wild and free and sometimes braided for more function when fighting. Your nails were long and sharp, your teeth a bit pointed as well, he’d never noticed if you could retract them, he thought you’d styled them in that way. Most importantly he could see the strength your ancestors had instilled in you. Even now. You were fierce, proud, loyal, and passionate. It explained your quick temper for those who harmed others for their selfish benefit. If someone had only glanced at you, human would be the general assumption. But if someone took the time to know you as he had, it was easy to believe there was something else in your blood.

“I grew up with what I assumed were humans, but I’ll never know that now. I could’ve been a foundling for all I know. So I had this loyalty to them, what I thought was a bond, a call to be a part of that. But once I came of age and... things started to appear a bit more complicated I went to someone to see what was wrong with me. Turns out nothing, I’m just not human.” you chuckle and shrug, recalling your awkward memories. “I was then left with the questioning of where my loyalty lies. Who was I? Was I Cathar enough to call myself that? Was I human enough to remain within that species, to live and love and fight with them? I was missing such a large portion of who I was, in my blood, I was someone I’d never known. I had so many things I might’ve missed out on you know? Hunting, hierarchies, mating, having family, a pride. We were known for litters, did I have siblings?” you sigh and you feel the sadness well up as it always did when you ponder the unknowns of your existence. “I digress… what I have concluded, and you may take into consideration is that you are in fact, both. Neither is more or less important. They are born of the same thing, they were once one single unit and all future and past components of Manda. You have your war gods, so do they. You have your morals, your duties, your... Way. Even if you were not a Child of the Watch, if you broke those creeds they specified, you are still a Mandalorian. You are not what you speak after all, you are your actions. Both sects believe neither to be a part of the other, but yet they helped you? You help your fellow Mandalorian. It is only a title, The Way is beyond titles, Manny, you know this.”

“I did not know that about you.” was his response.

“There’s far more we don’t know about our fellow man than we do know.” you smile at him and pat his hand. “You are usually quiet and prefer not to discuss frivolous matters. So I don’t bother you with trivia about myself.”

“I don’t believe that you or your beliefs are frivolous.” He pauses a moment, looking at your hand before placing his on top of yours. Both of his now tentatively trying to comfort yours. He didn’t show physical affection, it wasn’t natural to him. You took notice but kept your eyes on the way his hand gently stroked your own as he tried to elaborate the best he could. “You are... very well-read. An… admirable warrior of high morals. Your ideas have helped me with this. I still have concerns...questions. But for the first time since I learned this I feel… better understood.” You could almost feel the pain of him pulling those words out himself to give to another. This wasn’t his strong suit and you knew it. Was it some of the most endearing conversation you’d ever shared? Yes. Did it make your chest ache just slightly with the sweetness he was presenting even though his eyes were hidden? Also yes. He must be hurting, truly upset, and overwhelmed to try to share the burden of it with someone else.

You look back up to him and hold his hands tightly. “You’re very welcome.” you share a connected moment, eyes to the dark void of his visor as your hands move softly and slowly within the others’. “Would you prefer to continue talking about it? Or would you rather us take one of our walks? I think a break might help clear your head.”

“I think you're right .”

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

You took the opportunity to carry about the child, stopping to let him feel leaves and touch branches, pinching tiny bites of native fruit for him to experience. It was lovely, the scenery and the company. You kept the conversation light, talking about the books you'd read, the things you’d made, how the local Nexu’s were doing, and what the former guests had been up to. He’d met many of the foundlings that had eventually found their way to you. They had been in the same orphanage as you had. He’d scared most of them, and you couldn’t blame them, but he had always asked how they were when you spoke regardless. The child to him was the first foundling he’d taken in, lived with, cared for, and protected. You had helped with the younger children at the orphanage as you grew up and had taken in a handful over the years. And as children did, they would leave once they felt they were ready or the itch to be free came. You were concerned about how your Mando would take losing his little guy. You could tell they had a strong connection. You walked back both holding one of the outstretched arms of the very slow child, you could see how it was easy to be swept up by the little creature.

You had him care for the child, readying him for bed and getting what was needed out of his ship before locking it down and coming into the small clay and brick temporary home next to yours. It was modest, like yours, built from the clay in the hills you’d gathered yourself and decorated with various stones and tile. It was more than enough compared to what he was used to. A small room for the child to sleep, tucked away safe and cozy and you once again held the father figure and wished him a goodnight up against the cool metal of his helmet. He thanks you for your help, as he always does.

You tell him not to mention it, he’d do the same for you, as you always did. The parting goodbyes were always rather special and tender to you. He would tell you he hoped you found yourself in the favor of the maker, to be safe, vigilant, and that he would see you again. He’d always kept his promise.

---------

Going without sleep wasn’t something new for him. So sitting in the light of one of the four moons in the sky wasn’t exactly unexpected when you saw it from the dark interior of your home. He knew you were there. He had detected the movement in the building with his helmet without even looking in your direction. He sat on the stone stoop outside, helmet slowly shifting between looking down to the dirt path in front of him and up into the bright sky. It was the only glint off him from the moonlight, he was without his usual covering of Beskar armor on the rest of his body. He was in his black fabric shirt and pants, odd to see him without the visual breaks the shapes of his armor made. He still had his boots and his helmet on. You had yet to see him without them. You put on a robe to cover yourself in your summer-light sleeping shift and decided to see if you can be of any help.

He couldn’t decide if he was relieved or more anxious at the sight of you. He felt naked suddenly, despite all of his body being covered except his hands. He became hyper-aware of the small patch of skin around his neck that was uncovered, the wind tickling and reminding him he was in his most exposed state around someone in decades. You looked soft as you take slow steps towards him across the grassy garden between the buildings. It wasn’t just your loose hair, the free, flowing fabric showing skin he didn’t recall seeing before. The glow of the moon lent him to think he could see the energy around you as you approached and it bounced off your skin. But unlike The Way he was taught, he didn’t think less of you for appearing delicate. He knew better, but it seemed to help make him feel more at ease in his state of what he would call undress.

“Hey Manny.” your voice was considerate like a mother's and full of affection he didn’t feel he deserved. “Would you like some company?” you ask, tilting your head and holding out a small cup of cold liquid down to him. “Brought tea.” you mumble before moving to stand near him, the edges of your robes reaching out to caress the shaft of his boot on occasion.

With his head low, shielding his chin from your view he takes a sip. At this point in his inner monologue, he didn’t have it in him to ask you to turn away while he drank, hiding in the shadows was good enough.

“Put the kid to bed but you forgot to put yourself down too?” you give him a sleepy smile. You hear a long exhale from the filter in his helmet. “Still too much going on in your head to sleep, huh?” you say with a nod, already knowing. You sit your cup on the corner of the small stone landing in front of the door. You kneel before him, settling in and studying him dutifully. You’d never seen him look so vulnerable before, and you were mixed on your decision about how to approach him.

“Yeah. Still too much.”

“I’m all ears if you want to spill.” you offer with upward palms.

“I don’t want to keep you up. You should go back to bed. You were resting before you saw me.”

“And now I won’t be able to go back to sleep until I know you’re okay.”

A small grunt of acceptance comes from the helmet. “I feel angry and it confuses me. I shouldn’t be angry. I’ve made my decisions. Most a long time ago. But I am. I’m trying to practice humility, acceptance. But there’s only anger and this feeling of being betrayed.”

“That sounds normal to me.” you nod in support, thankful he was finally sharing with you what was going on in his mind. You’d had glances inside before, stories he’d told, where his morals lie, but this felt different. “They did help you. Maybe it’s good to focus on that?”

“I’m not angry at them.”

Your brow shows your confusion.

“I’m angry at the Children of the Watch.”

That was different. You understood him being angry at those that called him a zealot and dismissed his beliefs. Despite them being so similar.

“No matter how small of a part of my creed may have been a lie. It was still a lie. Now I wonder what else was a lie. None of it? All of it? I’ve given my life to this.”

“It’s not... simple.” you offer gently, eyes to the ground, not wanting to antagonize him.

“No. It’s not.” you let him think, studying his bare hands. It gave you plenty to do in the downtime. You’d seen bits of him before when healing him, but you couldn’t recall if you’d seen his hands. The warm brown skin was marked with light and dark scars alike from the years of abuse his body had taken. They were bigger than yours, more square and sturdy in comparison. “The things I’ve sacrificed for a lie.” it was almost a hiss, and you feel the burn of it in your chest for him.

“I know it’s not my apology to give,” you say quietly, rising on your knees to touch his forearms, suddenly aware of the softness and warmth underneath your hands as you touched him. There were no bracers to block you or worry about activating, there was just a man under there after all. “But I am sorry about how much this is upsetting you.”

“You are never a source of upset, Jaira.” Your name came off his lips like a whisper. He had so seldom used it. He wanted to reach out and touch your hands, but the thought of skin against his made him more agitated in multiple ways, both good and bad. Your expressive face told him you had known this but thanked him for the kind words all the same.

“Nor you to me, Manny.” you said his name in the same tender way, making it feel almost vulgar as you rest so close together.

He looks away, you can see the gears shifting from his subtle body language. “I believe it’s long overdue… in the interest of exploring the things I’ve sacrificed... you’ve earned my real name.” Your eyes go large, a quick jerk upward as he moves, bravely so, to place his hand over yours. His skin felt as hot as the sun. “My name is Din. Din Djarin.”

“Din.” you say with an unintentionally sickeningly sweet sigh of revelation. You give a smile that grows larger slowly, feeling it reach up into your eyes. “Din. That’s such a… gentle name. I like it.” you insist with a nudge forward of your chin.

“Yours reminds me of a phrase we have in Mandoa.” he looks down, now preoccupied with his decision to touch your hand. It was so giving, warm, and feeling distinctly feminine when paired with his.

“What’s that?”

“I think it would translate best to luck… destiny. Bright stars that light the good course to take.”

Your eyes went wide like a forest animal. You couldn’t help it, it was one of the sweetest sentiments anyone had ever given you. “Say it for me, Din.”

He felt his chest jerk at the word. He wasn’t used to being affected by them. Certainly not his name. “Jate’kara.”

“I’ve not been able to find much about your language. Would you be willing to teach me someday?”

“Of course.” he sounded borderline offended at your statement.

“Did I say something wrong?” you ask with a tilt of your head.

“No, no.” he shakes his head. “You don’t have to ask things of me like they’re favors.” he clarifies. “Whatever you need of me...I’ll do it.”

It sent a flip to your insides. This felt like a lot of responsibility. You could just... request things from this myth-worthy Mandalorian? It was an odd power rush you weren’t truly capable of dealing with in this rather intimate setting. You were close, almost between his knees, hands clasped together and speaking quietly into the warm night air. The condensation ran cool on your skin, the wind leaving bumps over your skin in its wake. The buzz of animals and insects was loud but faded when you were so close and so deep in conversation. If he said you could ask anything of him. Then perhaps you would. Why sit on the intensity of the moment? Strike.

“What is it that is bothering you? You feel... different. Not angry. I’ve seen you angry this is more subtle more...deep. I feel like you’re holding back. What is it that's making you so angry? You are so logical and reasonable in your approach to things. What is it that's so distressing you can't sleep?”

He takes a deep breath. He hasn’t wanted to say and be thought of as simple or even crude. But you'd asked and he was left with no excuse. “There are things that men want...even need that arent considered with The Way. I am a Mandalorian. But I am also a man. I've given so much of myself to being Mandalorian that I've had to deny myself things that are a part of that human side of me.”

“And with learning of the lies, you’re angry because you feel like you've been suffering for no reason.”

“Yes.” a stern answer and a strong nod to accompany it.

You almost lost your nerve, but with the way his thumb kept sweeping across your skin and the voltage it felt like it created with every touch you would’ve cursed yourself if you didn’t ask. “What have you sacrificed unwillingly, Din?”

Your eyes gave you away if your tone hadn’t. His helmet doesn’t move, he is as still as stone, gray, and shining like a polished river rock as he bores into you. “That is a bold question.”

“You have given me bold answers. I return the earnestness with the things I want to know.”

“You want to know these things?”

“I want to know you.” a direct answer and a slight leaning forward to keep him close as if he might run away in fear. Which was the most ridiculous imagery you could imagine. “I always have. I’ve been witness to your good and the bad actions. I’d like to be a bearer of your thoughts tool. I can’t help but want to understand what makes you, you. Of all the creatures and people I’ve met, you are the only one to hold my attention so completely both with and without his presence.”

Your words made for the most interesting combination of occurrences in his chest and stomach. It was fire and ice, a pull to the man in him, and a calling of praise for the life he led. His cheeks burned, a rare occurrence. It had all been a fantasy before now. But you with your fond words and their heated meanings were making them feel more real by the second.

“You do know how to appeal to both sides of me that I’m talking about.” he pauses and observes your face a moment, and no sign of retreat is within your eyes. “There's been no place for the… physical intimacy that men can crave. I am not one to pay, and I don't have the time to put into such efforts that I believe are needed for such… intimate things. They’re as sacred as an oath. I might've not acted that way when I was young. But clarity is gained with experience.”

“I share the sentiment.” a touch of sadness he understood well was in your eyes and it made his chest ache. A being like you shouldn’t know these feelings. A flash of anger lit within him for the injustice in a universe where a woman like you would ever feel lonely in such a way.

“You’ve taken no oath to hold you back from such things.”

“But I have not had the time, place, or person to swear such sacred oaths.” you give a subdued laugh, throwing his words back at him. “Or… at least I didn’t think I did… because I wasn’t sure if they could.” you look away and he sees it. You meant him.

“They can,” he answers, a deep fearless voice emanates from the helmet that holds your entire body at attention. “There are… obstacles to overcome. But they can.”

With a rush of confidence, you move closer, your chest against his legs and your hands on his knees. “Do you know of any obstacle I have yet to overcome?” a smirk that catches him off guard appears, a playfulness to your eyes bright and doting on him makes him catch the fever you were trying to spread.

“No.” a breathy answer through Beskar.

“Then let me help.” you offer. “I have grown so fond of you over these years. I wasn’t convinced you felt the same.”

“I do.”

“We can approach this issue together and… overcome it the same. As we have before.”

“As we will again.” He recites part of the toast you liked to give before leaving on missions. He remembered it. He did care.

“What obstacles are there? You know you have my silence with such things.”

Where did he even begin? He didn’t feel prepared and ironically he was unprepared for such actions to take place and feelings to be felt. “I know. I trust you.” There was nothing but the truth in his words and you reach to put your hand to the side of his helmet as if it were his cheek. You had always accepted this part of him, treating the helmet as if it WAS him and not an external thing. Which is how he thought of it most of the time. There was never a wish for him to remove it or invasive questions. You were knowledgeable about the Mandalorians and knew their armor was sacred to them, and you assumed as such about this man and his helmet. He places his hand over yours, the warmth between them registering on his helmet display and building condensation on its surface. “Let’s go inside.” he instructs, taking your hands, a flush of warmth through his bones at the touch of another.

“Is the child-?”

“Fast asleep.” he quickly answers, leading you to the small bedroom in the earthen home.

He stands at the long side of the bed for a moment, hand in yours and trying to get his bearings, it had been so long since he’d done anything like this. You saw his head moving and taking in the room and then you and back again, you could sense the uncertainty. “Din, relax.” a warm smile comes across your face, taking the lead, and that was fine with you. You almost coo his name, your hands moving to his upper arms to rub them reassuringly.

“Hard when it’s been so long.” he regrets it as he says it, thinking it might sound a bit pathetic.

“Believe me it’s been a very long time for me too.” you console him, standing chest to chest to start. You follow the hills and valleys of his arms, strong and lean under the pliant fabric to his bare hands, lacing your fingers together, feeling him hide the twitches and jerks from the sensation of touch. “Sit down on the bed. Let me get close to you.” he sits down, sat up far too straight. “Put the bend of your knees against the bed... there we go.” he feels your hands on his thighs and an audible gulp hits your ears that you ignore. “You know I’m not going to judge you. I want this… I want you too.” He feels you close the space between you, your legs sliding between his naturally wide splayed ones. “Now tell me what obstacles did you mean before? Talk to me and let me know what you need.” your hands trace the dark lines on his helmet and a shiver runs down his back.

You were being far better about this than he warranted. It made him want you more, a hunger in his lower stomach slowly growing past his anxiety. “Helmet stays on.” was his first thought, spoken almost too quickly.

“Of course.” you keep your voice quiet and soothing, hands making their trek up and down his arms, waiting to feel them lose their tension. “Do you have to leave everything else on?” you coax him with a squeeze to his biceps, putting one leg up, now visible from beneath your robe over his.

You can’t see it but you get an actual grin out of him. “No.” a more confident response, feeling more relaxed with your unintentional playful humor. You see him look down to see the bare skin, the touchless friction between your bodies growing hotter by the second.“But let’s not get carried away.”

You hear the laugh this time, he sees your expression shift, a triumphant smile for getting him out of his own head. “I know I can be sensitive when I’ve not... been touched in a long time.”

“Yeah?” he liked the sounds of you talking about it a little too much. He wanted to hear anything you’d tell him about your body.

“Yeah.” your breath catches, “Are you?”

He nods, he didn’t have the confidence in this area yet to own what he saw as shortcomings.

“I want to sit in your lap. Can I?” You wanted to take it slow. The last thing you wanted was to scare him off. There is a fine line between indulgence and going too far when it came to dealing with a man like him.

“Yes.” another quick nod, and you are happy to give in, your hips settle well on his strong thighs, feeling secure. To him, it felt it took forever and didn’t last long enough. The drag of your bare skin against his thin clothes was a lot. The weight of what felt like a lifetime of neglect to himself and his needs weighs as heavy on him as you do. He had known touch only through violence for decades now, the tenderness you were offering him willingly was almost overwhelming. He was taught the ways of war and violence since he was young. The ways of more fragile things; of love and intimacy he’d had to learn on his own.

“I’ll go slow.” Slow was the opposite of how your hearts were beating. Your fingers wanted to touch that strip of skin unveiled around his shirt collar, but you only stared at it for the moment. His head pauses just above your chest, your arms resting on his shoulders, fingers light on the edge of his helmet and hungry to move farther down.

“Thank you.” a simple but honest answer.

You’d been close before, seen large spaces of bare skin and carried one another, slept shoved into a single space too small for you both but it had never felt like this. Everywhere your bodies met was warm and giving, both now very aware of the gap between both your hips in this position. You took the time to study him up close, the metal of his helmet was unbelievably smooth as your fingers traced invisible lines and doted on the hard surface separating you from him. Did you want his helmet off? Yes. You wanted to know, to be the only one to know, to touch and feel and savor every inch of him. The more you thought about it, the closer you got to him, the harder it was to recall a time you didn’t think of him this way. Repressing your wants and needs was something you were both personally familiar with.

“It doesn’t bother you when I touch your helmet like this does it?”

“N-no. I like it.” his face a melted mess under the guard. He watched you so close, your bright eyes glowing with the light the moon beaming down. He couldn’t feel it, but he knew everywhere you touched, spots lighting up red with heat, pulsing where more pressure was applied. It was a good introduction to being touched again. You push forward, a single kiss to where you believed his cheek to be. When you pulled away, he answered before you could ask. “Go on.” a heated hiss through the filter deep and dark and heavy as it hit your ears. You place another to the other side, tilting his head you give him another to his forehead. His eyes would close when you were near, a happy sigh, a weighted exhale is let out, feeling his shoulders slumping with each dot of affection. You hold his metal cheeks, a faint kiss to the tinted part of his visor. You press your forehead against his, barely a measurement worth noting separating you as he gives in to your touch, wanting to fall into you, to give you back what you were giving him.

You move your hands slowly, giving him time to register and adapt before moving on, your arms wrap around his helmet, holding him close before leaving a trail of smaller kisses behind, bringing his head only slightly down into your chest. Underneath he was a slack-jawed puddle. Your arms made their way down his shoulders to his back, you could even feel the raised skin of scars you’d helped suture, fingertips light along them, exploring new ones. After your flat palms explored his back, finding his breathing steady and deep you tried something new. A drag of your nails against the fabric drew a deep groan from him. “Good?”

“Ung-” a deep enthusiastic grunt escapes the helmet pushed to your collarbone. “Yes.” You continue, you scratch his back and he swears he could cry at the sensation. You didn’t move away or avoid his scars, the patchwork he felt his body looked like. You embraced it, all of him, and it was hitting him harder than he expected it to.

You take a deep breath, another kiss to soothe to the cold metal. “Do you want to...see me? Or- touch me back?”

He hadn’t even thought about it, his brain hadn’t moved past the feel-good moments you were covering him in.

“Yes.” a simple but hungry answer. As you see his helmet tilt downward towards your chest.

“I want you to too.” Your sincere tone struck him, he watched your agile fingers reach for the belt that held your robe in place. It fell silent, blood in your ears as it was your turn to feel the taste of nervousness on your tongue. Your body was something that did things for you, it wasn’t something you often stopped to consider the aesthetic of. The quiet noises that he let escape as you took off the robe left any hesitation behind with it as it laid on the floor abandoned. His hands didn’t move, his chest did noticeably, as yours mirrored, picking up speed as you moved forward. You take one of his hands, thumbs rubbing circles, leaving small kisses on his fingertips as the sounds beneath the Beskar grew louder. The rhythm of his breathing was now audible, helpless sounds you never expected to hear from anything but pain brushed against your ears and touched you in places no one had in ages. You kiss him palm, nose nuzzled into the only slightly trembling fingers. After you felt the skin-to-skin contact was enough to calibrate him, you meet what you felt to be his eyes, taking his hand and placing it over your breast. You were still covered with the thin sleep shift but it was made for breathability in the heat of summer and didn’t leave much to the imagination. You take him by the wrist of the awkwardly avoidant hand and put it on the curve of your hip. “Is this-?”

“Yes.” he rushes out and sees you smile, causing another kiss to be given to his helmet where you were aiming for what would be his mouth. He groaned, feeling your nipple harden against his palm, the other feeling the silky slip of fabric as he let himself give a firm grip to your fleshiest parts.

“Go on, Din,” you whisper into his visor. “Touch me,” you ask of him. A strangled noise breaking through bitten lips is your answer. You place your hand gently on top of his, showing him it was okay, reminding him how to, helping him give in. Your hand forces his to cup the weight of your chest, the exhale of pleasure fogged up his visor as you had your head rested against his. “Like that, yeah.” you wet your lips and his hand begins to move on its own. Soon his hands are kneading at you, a simple brush of thumb over your nipple forces an inhale he drinks up the sound of.

He fondly recalled this now, that static in the air, the shared breaths and the power he felt with a woman in his grip. He relaxes his head against the bend of your neck, mouth open and watering, hidden from view but the sound of his breathing was enough to tell you he was giving over to it now. The tentativeness leaves, his hand pulls your hips closer to him, both inhaling at the feeling of touch against the places your arousal was spreading from. You let out a small whine at the feeling of the seam of his pants, pressed against by his growing erection.

“Fuck.” you hear exhaled into your shoulder and you shudder. “You feel...so good.” his hand grips you firmly, “Like velvet in my hands…” his lips brush against his helmet and he wishes it was your skin. He was famished for touch, for this connection and lust he’d repressed for so long. But here it was, in his hands, in his lap asking him for more. His hands ran up your bare chest, feeling the pulse under your skin and the slick your sweat had created. “You’re as hot as a star under my hands.” he groans.

You audibly swoon at the comment, feeling that distinct masculine roughness of well-worked hands as his palms moved into your hairline. “And you’re as hard as Beskar under me.” You move your hips, a grind against his, and a fully formed moan escapes, neck going limp and the heaviness of the helmet resting on your shoulder now. You whine, the friction feeling even more delicious against your glossy wet center. He encourages you wordlessly, a hand on your ass to keep a slow rhythm, a painful drag of your engorged clit against the perfectly fit shaft of his cock. Such a thin piece of material between you, you thought. You reach between your legs, a wet mess on both of you and it’s no surprise. “I’m as wet as Kamino, Din.” you hum and smile, the front of his helmet against your neck again. You feel the vibration of his groan against your skin. “Look what you’re doing to me,” you whisper, mouth pressed against his helmet where his ear would be. He sees the light hit your fingers as you raise them. “See that?”

“Fuck...yes little star I do.” he groaned heavily, his chest heaving a bit. You get bolder, your hand moving from your lips to the painfully hard throb in his pants. Another long groan, a jerk of his hips as you palm him, a back and forth against the pressure, feeling him jump against the confines. “Unf - I - I won’t- “ his hips jerk and his hand moved faster than you can register to your wrist. A firm hold that makes you moan and stop. There was that strength you had wanted to be obedient to. “That might be a bit… much for me.” He stopped you out of fear of not being able to stop. He didn’t want to scare you, unleash something he wasn’t ready for or couldn’t control. It was a concern he’d cum too soon and embarrass himself, this wasn’t something he could just jump back into and impress anyone.

He was thankful you weren’t disappointed, “Do you want me to make you cum, Din?” Every time you said his name with such lust in your voice it made him moan. But he didn’t feel the least bit weak for it.

“I wanted us both to...enjoy this.”

“If you think I’m not enjoying myself you’re welcome to put that hand between my legs and find the contrary.” Another moan that makes him slump comes heavily from him. “If you do want to...enjoy this…” you let out a small breathy laugh he raises his head to. “I can arrange that.” you offer, your nose gliding affectionately against the center indent of his helmet. “Relax and enjoy this with me, Din.” you give him a reassuring smile, lining your hips up again. You grind back and forth, his hands finding their place on your body quickly. You straighten your back to give him a view of you, and you finally let your fingers dive under the neck of his shirt, feeling the slightest glimpse of hair at the base of his neck, your fingers go as far into his helmet as they can. You start that back and forth against him, over and over, lazy growing more urgent as each time he gives a harsh drag across your clit, the stimulation you needed. “I’ve thought about you like this, you know.”

A small “Ungff.” was the only response he could manage.

“Wanted my hands to feel your skin, just for pleasure. Wanted to know how you’d feel... thick and throbbing beneath me like this.”

With a deep grunt, his hand holds your hip sternly, the other moving to the back of your head, pressing your forehead to his. “Yes-keep talking like that, fuck.” The demand was thick in his voice, his hands no longer gentle, giving away the need they were trying to find an outlet for.

“You’ve turned me into something I’m not for anyone else. Some needy young girl, hungry for a taste of flash and flesh with a man.”

“You’re so, fuck you’re so soft.” he moans, helmet pushing back against you like a bull, and you were happy to ride. "Your so good at that."

You let it build, focusing on the feeling between your legs, you let your breathing take over, every grind a release of sound, and a step climbed together towards your peak. “I knew you would be impressive. You had to be. Look at you.” You pant and you feel his fingers sink into your hair, a fistful slowly tightening as you held onto his back and head, leveraging and letting your hips do all the work. “No man’s ever made me such a greedy woman with only his hands before Din. No one. Only you.” The filter slips and your mouth falls open, breath fast from exertion, both sets of hands now with a white-knuckled grip against each other's bodies.

It was hot and fast and what you needed to satiate your needs. His hands and sounds told you everything you need to know for now. He wanted you, needed you, craved you. He was giving you the power to make him weak, a rush to your head that wasn’t just your impending orgasm.

“Fuck Din I’m close.” you admit, your mouth open and panting, tongue shamelessly lapping at his helmet, your lips kissing him as if he could kiss back. Once again, he returned the kisses with his hands, switching grip one went to your back, the other back to your breasts bouncing out of their thin confines.

“Fucking do it.” he bites out through gritted teeth, fingers tugging your top down to expose you and give your nipple a pinch.

“Mmmph!” a slight whine but a plea for more. “Yes fuck I love that Din, harder.” your words rush out and he eagerly follows.

“Cum for me. Cum on me. Please.” he growls, and it ignites something in you. Something primal. “C’mon little star, fuckin burn for me.” he commands, a barked order, caught up in it all, the heat, the friction, and the haze of lust around you both he cums. Unexpectedly but it didn’t matter at this point. With that solid thrust against you, a hand gripped into the flesh between your shoulder blades, the masculine energy you’d craved washes over you in the grunts and expletives that leak from the helmet.

“Yes, fucking cum Din. Give it to me.” you moan shamelessly, head falling back. A yip of “Yes.” building from whines to full roars overcomes you as you do as he asks and explode into a white bright hot light that consumes you. You try to keep the pace, the contact but your body stutters and begins to shake. The now warm metal of his helmet presses between your bouncing tits as your head tilts back and he holds you up with both hands, you never felt fear of falling when his hands were on you. At least not falling into the floor.

It was as if his mind cleared, and he was left soaking in this gleaming woman cumming hard in his arms. He held you up, seeing your chest heave, the pink flushing your skin, how much desire he felt in his growled name as you gnashed your teeth and came on him.

Fuck he felt good.

He got to scoop you up, a trembling and panting shadow of the primal goddess you’d just been, arms wrapping around your waist, one hand moving to see your face as it fought to regain its bearings.

"You glow like a star when you're like this." He isn't sure if he's overstepped, he doesn't know if the shine in your eyes is from the recent orgasm or his words. “Fuck you are… beautiful. You know that?” your mass of hair falls forward as you look down at him, chest still finding its normal pace.

Your eyes blink, a flutter of disbelief and, if he read you correctly, a slice of fear for only a second. “Beautiful?” you ask, feeling a bit bewildered.

His hand stops its gentle stroking against your hair and face. “You act like you’ve never been called that before.” You can feel the subtle laugh in his chest when he says it.

When your face remains still for a moment, eyes bright and full of memories he wishes he could access you reply almost sheepishly, “I've not.”

With the simple, quiet answer he was given more information about you than you knew you'd given up. You'd never let anyone in like this before. No one had ever held you and told you the things you longed to hear from another you cared for. You were like him after all.

With a light hand, you rest against his helmet again, stroking it as if it were his hair. "It means more coming from you than it would anyone else."

Now you've taken his words from him. You managed to make him feel special. Something he had denied his entire life. Something he wasn't sure he even believed anyone could be. In the same sentiment as your confession, he was glad it was you that was changing his changing his mind about such things. Learning the truth about the Children of the Watch, and the questions it brought up about his life was the first in a wave of realizations he'd face. Perhaps it was time to reevaluate how he lived his life if it meant missing out on things like you.

I tagged those who wanted in my Javi fic and interacted with my posts about making this fic. If you want to be added or removed just let me know.

@jaegeeeeer @likedovesinthewnd @inkededucatednnerdy @biharryjames @ladamari68 @past-romantic @weliketomoveit @shikin83 @ookamikuro @anglovesthis @swol-bear @louist91syndrome @guiltylitpleasures @nfnoofiii @hellothefriend @beatha-dubhach @l-e-i-n-t-h @firehart9

#the mandalorian reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin reader #din djarin fic #the mandalorian fic

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juniper-daisy · 3 years

Text

-my all time celeb crush-

Euphoria

Negan/Reader

It's the middle of a zombie apocalypse. You've been traveling with Negan and his crew for quite some time now, but you hardly ever get recognition from the man you idolized the most. The one you didn't dare cross, the one who spent so much time protecting your people. One night, your artistic abilities come out at the wrong time. How will you pay for it?

•••

It was the middle of an apocalypse. I was with a fairly large group of people; the leader, the obvious henchmen, and the oblivious survivors. Our leader was attractive. He could fix just about any problem with the stomp of his boot. I was intimidated by him and he knew it. We were held up in a recently abandoned house. We locked the doors and windows so no one would come in and made ourselves comfortable around the house, but I made my way to the living room. It was dim. Only three candles lit the room up, a fireplace on the other side of the room to heat the house. Our group scattered around the house. Some in the kitchen, others in different rooms, everywhere you looked you'd see our crew. I sat on the floor at the table sketching while He relaxed on the couch, head on the armrest and legs almost sprawled out in front of him. He drew his hat over his face and dozed off. I wondered how a man like him could find time to nap in our situation. Unable to find inspiration, I turned to what I could see. Him laying in front of me. I started with general shapes, then moved to forming the shape of his body. I'd look back at him every few seconds, making sure I got every curve right. I'm sure he eventually felt my glare after the slight chuckle that came from under his hat. He lifted it and stood to his feet.

"Everyone clear the floor." He eyed me, making sure I didn't move a muscle as everyone else either went outside or upstairs. I was frozen, so riddled with anxiety and confusion that my muscles no longer knew how to function. It was silent for a good ten seconds until the boom of his boots moved towards me.

His hat was over his face so I doubted he'd be able to see what I was drawing. I started out drawing him. Sprawled out on the couch with his hand up, almost reaching for something. His body lay naked and exposed. I assumed it's what he looked like under his gear, but I never had the chance to really see. Next I drew a girl. Me. Sitting on his lap with my head back, so obvious that I was drawing us fucking. When I came close to finishing the sketch, I heard a chuckle. I looked up and his hat was still on his head, but you could tell it was his laugh. I went back to my drawing, only to hear him speak.

"You're wrong, y'know. If you were really on top of me you'd be looking a lot worse than that. I'd have you screaming at the top of your lungs."

How could he have seen it? His hat... Has holes in it. How did I not realize it before? I closed my sketch book and sat on the love seat behind me. I heard the gingling of keys, or what I thought was keys. He was undoing his belt. When he was done, he unbuttoned his pants and pulled them down a little bit.

"In case you need a reference for size.." I looked up and there he was, hand around his fully erect cock. It looked delicious. He started stroking it, letting me take in the view like I had never seen a dick in my life. I had, but none as big as his. Would it even fit anywhere in my body? Who knew. I wanted to find out, though.

I grabbed my sketch book and pencil so worn out I was surprised it even drew anymore. "Pose for me, then."

He walked to the couch and laid down. He had his arm propped under him, the other on his dick to hold it up. One of his legs was bent up, the other hanging off the couch. I moved to get the perfect angle and started my work. About 5 minutes in he started finally stroking himself, and it threw my stomach into a fit. By then I had already gotten most of the base finished, all I had to do is refine my lines and shade. I tried putting my sketch book down, but he demanded I kept going.

"Don't put that sketch book down until I've seen the finished product. I cleared the floor, there's no way anyone will see."

Why should I keep sketching you when I could just use this to make a painting to give to him later? I could do it anyways, but this was special. He was letting me sketch him during the zombie apocalypse.

He kept going as he was, making small grunts here and there. I could tell he was seriously turned on by this, and I was definitely on the same boat. My body was on fire. It had never been like this in college when I'd sketch the models. I had more feelings for him than I ever did those boys. I yearned for him more than he could've ever imagined. I began to squeeze my thighs together; any way to get friction I could. I guess he noticed from the chuckle that came out of him. I had almost finished it. Little did he know, I had all the time in the world to add myself. I was on his face, his hand gripping my ass with inhuman strength, already covered in bruises from his hand, his stomach and thighs covered in hickies, cum spurting from his cock and I hadn't even gotten to see it yet.

"Finished." A smirk lay on my face, so smuggish because I knew it'd drive him over the edge. I turned the book around. The moment he got to see it he finally let loose. His cum covered his stomach and it that's what sent me over the edge. I didn't cum, but the kinky confidence, my friend. I walked to him, grabbed his face and kissed him. It was a deep, passion filled kiss and it was everything. I went to kiss his neck, then down his body. My tongue lapped cum off his stomach and he grabbed my hair. He guided me to his already-hard-again cock and forced it down my throat.

"You're so dirty. None of my other wives have ever fucked like this. Oh, I've missed this. I haven't had a girl like you since before this fucking hell hole." His head was hanging back and mouth hanging slightly open. Small grunts and moans were escaping like the fluent foul words he always spoke. Rolling off his tongue with no effort. I was doing this to him.

Soon, though, he nudged me away and grabbed me to flip me over. My face was shoved into the couch and my ass in perfect view for him. My arms became restrained behind my back by his hands and knees apart by his own. Surely I was wet enough just being on full display in front of the man I had been lusting over for so long. I felt the tip of his cock prod at my glistening pussy. I desperately leaned back to feel him inside me, but I was stopped.

"Honey, I will tear you in two if you try that. I'm trying to make you scream, not cry." He eased into me to be sure he didn't hurt me, but somehow I still wanted more. I wanted to be absolutely destroyed by him. He had finally fit, and immediately pulled out to built up pace.

"Oh, Negan!" The first time he heard his name escape my mouth it's as though it almost sent him over the edge.

"Babygirl, oh fuck. I'm... So ready... To fuck you raw..." He thrust inside me between words, still way too sure not to hurt me.

"Fuck me. Oh, please go faster. I don't think I can handle not being railed by you right now."

He immediately picked up the pace, fucking me until I was basically screaming. I'm sure walkers could hear me from two miles away but in that moment not one part of me cared. The moment was too perfect. We were scratching and clawing, he was choking and slapping. Hand prints scattered across my body, all nearly purple. My high was finally building up and all I wanted was release.

"Negan, Sir. Can I please cum?"

All he said was, "go for it" and I was gone. On a cloud higher than 9 and the only thing I could do anymore was collapse. As soon as I fell from off his cock I could feel hot spurts of his cum trickling down my back. Euphoria.

#negan x reader

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shera-dnd · 3 years

Text

And we're back again with some high quality knight's and magic shit. I put my...girl?...boy? Let's go with girl for now, anyways I put Weiss through a lot, but I let her cut a fireball in half so I think we're even.

The sky was beautiful that night, not that it did much to improve Weiss’s situation, but laying on the ground like she was, watching the night sky was the only thing she could really do. Of course she had rid herself of the roots and vines already, but she simply lacked a reason to rise from the ground anymore.

Perhaps in the morning Lady Blake would return and find her still laying there, unmoving, then the knight would ask her what had happened, and Weiss would have to explain everything to her. Weiss...did not look forward to that. Maybe she should have let the roots drag her down.

No, if she did that then people would start searching for her, and if they found out what happened to her then they’d hunt down Lady Ilia.

Oh, Weiss, you fool.

Even after everything you still want to protect her.

Of course she does. Of course she wants to protect Ilia, she meant the world to Weiss, and she had picked this night to tell her so. But once again things did not go the way she planned. The worst part was that Ilia loved her back, she truly did, but that only made her resent and hate Weiss, as if she had somehow manipulated Ilia into loving her.

Weiss wanted to be angry, wanted to hate Ilia back, but she couldn’t. For all the years that her father spent trying to teach her to be as hateful as he was, all it took was a few days among people who truly cared for her, for her to learn how to love instead. Now she wished she didn’t, because no one told her that love could ruin her.

No, this was unlike her, she shouldn’t be letting something like this drive her to inaction. She picked up the broken pieces of herself and put them together long enough for her to at least have dinner and then collapse in her tent.

It took some effort to achieve this, a great part of it used simply to keep herself from thinking about how this meal was made for two, but eventually she managed to put enough food in her body that she would not starve, and began the long drag towards her tent. She did not expect to sleep much tonight, but it wouldn’t do to stay outside and become sick from the exposure.

“Weiss.”

She didn’t know when her eyes had closed or when sleep had taken her. She knew only that it was still dark outside and that someone had called her name. Or perhaps not, perhaps that had been just part of some half forgotten dream. It had felt real enough to wake her up, but now that she was awake she questioned that it even happened.

“Weiss.”

That got her to stand. She stepped out of the tent and began looking around. It still felt strange, as if she had imagined it, but it was still louder and more real than before. Was this also a dream? It was infuriating that she couldn’t quite put a finger on what was happening.

“Weiss!”

Now that was real. A terrified wail, a helpless cry. Someone needed her help. No, not someone, it was Ilia. That was her voice, calling her from within the forest. Weiss didn’t question it, she didn’t stop to think, she had to help her now. She grabbed her sword and quickly dashed for the woods without a second thought.

“Weiss! Weiss!”

Her voice continued to cry, the wind carrying it an impossible distance as Weiss followed its call. It was Ilia’s magic, she thought, she was calling the winds to carry her cries for help.

She didn’t know of the other fae in these woods.

She didn’t know they had played this trick before.

Even then would she really stop to question it? Would she really risk it when the woman she loved called for her help? No, she wouldn’t. So she ran through hidden trails, and down non-existent paths. She leaped from shadow to shadow, through roots and branches, until she reached a place humanity had never touched.

And then the sound stopped.

All sound stopped. It was as if the forest had been put under a spell, or perhaps as if Weiss had left the forest altogether, and this clearing was its own world, displaced from her own. She, unfortunately, wasn’t afforded time to question those things any further.

“Lady Weiss Schnee,” a voice greeted her from among the trees.

“It is so nice of you to grace us with your presence,” another followed.

Her hand reached for the hilt of her sword instinctively, though she did not draw it yet. Cautiously she studied the woods around her, trying to find the origin of their voices.

“You wouldn’t draw iron upon your hosts, now would you?” The first voice taunted.

“And our little sister spoke so highly of you,” added the second.

“Ilia!?” She exclaimed without thinking, “where is she? What have you done to her?”

The voices cackled, their laughs melding into each other, into a single discordant sound that echoed through the once silent woods.

“Ilia?” The first voice mocked, “I don’t recognize that name, brother.”

“Do you know who that is, sister Amitola?” The other asked.

“That’s me,” came a weak response from behind her.

Weiss quickly turned around, finding that where once was a tree, now sat the bound form of Ilia’s true self. Her arms and legs were tied, her wings had been charred and burned, and her skin glowed a depressive blue.

“Ilia!” She called, rushing to her side and releasing her as fast as she could.

“Weiss,” she replied, her white eyes now full of hurt, “please go away.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Weiss insisted.

“This is a trap, you idiot!”

As soon as her arms were freed she grabbed a hold of her savior and pulled her down, both of them rolling out of the way of a jet of flames. When Weiss managed to regain her composure she was greeted by the sight of the most terrifying creature she ever laid eyes on.

It towered over the both of them, a mass of orange and white fur, with a maw that still let out smoke. Its four eyes scanned the clearing, each pair of them moving separately from the other, before they all focused on Weiss and Ilia on the ground.

It opened its mouth and the first voice spoke, “I thought you wished to help us, sister Amitola.”

Ilia flinched at that name.

“All you had to do,” the second voice spoke through that same mouth, “was lay down and let you both die.”

Flames spilled out of the fae’s mouth and Weiss barely had time to draw her blade. Iron struck against fire, and the magic that sustained it was ripped apart, killing the flames before they could do them any harm.

“I will not let you hurt Lady Ilia any further,” Weiss declared, sword pointed at that fire breathing monstrosity.

“Look at you, so eager to die for her,” laughed the second voice.

Weiss took the offensive, jumping forward with a stab of her blade. The fae dodged aside and swiped at her, but she had already retreated to Ilia’s side. They had range on her, but she had speed and iron on her side.

“She tricked you,” taunted the first voice as they sidestepped another attack.

Stab.

“Lied to you.”

Slash.

“Betrayed you.”

She split another fireball in half, anger rising in her with every word of her assailants.

“Why risk death in her name? A name that isn’t even her own,” the voices taunted together.

“Because I love her!” She shouted, slicing forward. It was as if her own words had spurred fate to her aid as her sword finally connected, burning an arc across the fae’s arm. “And I will defend her with my life if I have to!”

She heard a gasp coming from behind her, but she could not turn to see what Ilia’s reaction had been, she could only hope it wasn’t more hurt. Meanwhile the gestalt being scurried back and growled in anger. The sound was horrifying, two voices joined together, only growing more unsettling as it morphed into laughter.

“You love her?” The voices laughed and mocked, “and you think love will save you? You think this is some sweet story of knights and princesses? You think yourself some galant hero?”

Though they cackled, Weiss stayed resolute, sword firm in her hand and gaze locked on her foe. This was, perhaps, her biggest mistake, as it left her blinded to the spell the fae had weaved around her.

“We know what you are, Weiss Schnee,” they spoke, that name sounding like poison in their tongue, “you’re no hero. You’re just a pathetic little princess, playing pretend.”

Now that made her snap. She launched forward with wild abandon, swinging and stabbing without a hint of caution. The fae, for their part, only cackled louder and louder as they evaded every blow, their amusement only feeding into Weiss’s anger. Her reckless assault only came to a stop as she felt something snag under her and tripped her.

She cursed as her body hit the ground with force, her sword escaping her grip. She turned back to see what had caught her, and for a moment she worried she might have hit her head too hard. Her boots had been turned into heels, her pants and shirt had disappeared, replaced instead with an elaborate blue and white dress, and her vest had given way to a light shawl bearing her family’s crest.

Unnerving couldn’t begin to describe the feeling of seeing herself like this.

After being allowed to live her dream for weeks, to have herself forcefully dragged back to that gilded cage, it unsettled something deep within her. She felt panic rise as her breathing grew more uneven. She had to calm herself, she had to control herself or her and Ilia would be dead.

It was unfortunate then, that her foe planned to grant her no such reprieve.

“What is wrong, princess?” The voices mocked, a massive paw landing between her and her sword.

No no no, this wasn’t happening. She--She was a knight, she had trained her whole life for this, she was meant to fight people like them. She wasn’t weak, she wasn’t helpless, she wasn’t a princess!

Fire spewed from the creature’s maw, bathing the ground in it. Weiss barely had the time or awareness to roll away, her mind still caught in a spiral of ever growing panic. And those accursed fae could only laugh as they watched her suffer.

A large claw swiped at her, though it barely scraped against Weiss’s skin as she jumped away, the wound it left still bled and the force still sent her face first against a nearby tree. A second strike soon came to finish what the first started, but it was stopped short by a cloud of glowing butterflies.

Dozens of the magical insects swarmed over them, forcing them back as the fae swiped uselessly at them. Before they could even begin to deal with the swarm, a smaller fae had tackled them to the ground with all her might. Ilia had freed herself and had come to Weiss’s rescue.

She slammed her hands to the combined entity’s chest and urged the earth to take them back, calling upon the roots to bring them down with them. For a moment it had worked, but then the twins opened their mouth and fire engulfed both insect and root alike. Ilia had been lucky to escape this uncinged.

“After everything you still choose this human?” The voices growled as they stood back up, “the Schnee girl who saw you as nothing more than a tool for her redemption? Is this who you choose to die for, Amitola?”

“Yes!” She shouted back, “now be quiet!”

She had nowhere near their physical strength or destructive power, but this fae still had claws, and she wasn’t gonna let them hurt Weiss any longer. She jumped at them, climbing onto their back and clawing at them with a rabbid fury.

The twins growled as they were sent stumbling back. Though she caused them both severe pain, Ilia was still much smaller, her claws weren’t made for taking down something that size. A hand that was easily bigger than her whole head, grabbed at what remained of her mangled wings and slammed her forcefully to the ground.

Their mouth opened again, ready to reduce the smaller fae to ash, but were brought to a stop by a large branch striking the side of their face with enough force to crack it in half. They howled as they backed away, rage was clear in their eyes, but the gaze they made was unflinchingly resolute.

Weiss stood tall, even in that stupid dress, her shawl had been ripped appart and wrapped around her hands, and she held what remained of that branch as if it was the noblest of blades. Even in the guise of a princess, she stood like a knight.

“You may insult me, humiliate me, you may even question my honor,” she declared, gaze unwavering as she approached the hulking creature, “but you’re a fool if you think you can harm Lady Ilia in my presence.”

The fae cackled, insults ready to spew out like their flames, but Weiss was quicker and she had no more patience for their trickery. The branch sliced at their eyes before the first word could escape their mouth.

“My lady was right,” she added, “you two should stay quiet.”

Were there any bards to witness this battle then they would have certainly sung of Weiss’s bravery, of her resolve, and of her devotion to both her love and her cause. They would sing of how she bested the fae with unmatched skill and unparalleled wits. Though the first part is certainly accurate, in truth Weiss’s skills hardly applied to this situation, and there was only so much anyone could do to something that big when armed with nothing more than a particularly sharp stick.

Still Weiss was set on besting Ilia’s assailants or dying to buy her time to escape, and that seemed more than enough to keep her fighting on.

She plunged the branch into one of the fae’s four eyes, causing it to howl in terrible pain. Though a victorious thrill ran through the knight’s body, she was promptly reminded of her foe’s sheer might and size as a large claw slammed against the side of her body, launching her against a nearby tree with terrifying force.

Once again fire began to spew, ready to engulf Weiss whole, and once again it was Ilia who saved her.

“Catch!” She shouted as she tossed Weiss her sword, and the magical inferno was unmade under the touch of iron.

Her blade sang and her feet drove her forward, iron met flesh with a deadly puncture, but the fae still stirred. They grabbed hold of her side, claws digging into skin as they tried to force her back. But Weiss was undeterred, she took one last step forward, driving Myrtenaster into their heart, like a nail into a coffin.

And so they slumped to the ground, black smoke escaping their wounds.

Weiss fell to her knees not long after.

“Weiss!” Ilia cried, as she rushed to her side, holding her before she could hit the ground.

“Ilia,” she muttered, weakness taking over her body as the adrenaline left her, “are you hurt?”

“Am I hurt?” Ilia asked with a nervous laughter, “Weiss, you’re bleeding.”

“But are you well?” She insisted.

“Yes, you absolute fool,” she answered, worry and exasperation in her voice, “I’m well.”

“Good.”

Ilia was safe, that was all that mattered. Not her wounds, not her blurring vision, and certainly not her blood loss. What mattered was that her love was safe, and nothing else.

She closed her eyes and, with a smile on her face, was taken away to the land of dreams.

#rwby #prismatic ponytails #weiss schnee #ilia amitola #medieval au #fanfic

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a-simple-imagine · 4 years

Text

A Little Bit Of Love... Potion?

Prompt: "I promise I won't let him draw on your face with permanent marker." "Hmmm... So can I draw on his face with washable markers?" "No!"

Pairing: Hermione Granger x fem!reader, lots of Ron Weasley x fem!reader

Words: 4.6k

A/N - This was written for @firewhisky-kisses writing challenge. This is my second Harry Potter themed story ever since I only joined the fandom like two weeks ago (very much feeling like an outsider atm) so please don’t judge too harshly. I am still getting used to these characters and the wizarding world itself. I decided to write something a little lighthearted.

Warnings - Playful threats of violence

"I'm gonna kill him," You growl loudly as you storm into the common room in search of Hermione Granger. She was one of three people at Hogwarts you would consider your best friend. The others were Harry Potter; and the other you were about to murder for catching you off guard. You held a towel around the top of your head to conceal your worst nightmare. Stray Gryffindors were settled around the room doing one thing or another as the day was drawing to a close. Hermione was resting on an armchair by the fire utterly engrossed by the massive book in her hands.

"Who?" She doesn't even bother to look up as you approach.

"Ron obviously," You groan, grip tightening on the towel to stop it from slipping. "who else would go out of their way to annoy me."

An unamused sigh falls past her lips as she finally lowers her book. "Show me,"

"No, it's embarrassing." You protest. Looking around the room; you didn't speak to anyone else in here too often so what did it even matter what they thought.

"Well then I can't help you,"

You shift your weight uncomfortably before pulling the towel off in a dramatic reveal of your beautiful head. Hermione's eyes drift over you; struggling to hold back her amusement as she finally sees what happened. "It's... not so bad," She replies quietly, a melodic chuckle drifting into the air. "Bright."

"I look like a walking highlighter." You whine, taking a seat on the arm of her chair. "Fix it,"

Hermione whips out her wand and with a flick of her wrist you assume your hair has gone back to normal. She was too good of a witch for it to not have. Reaching for her book, you inspect the cover as you slide into her lap. Absentmindedly flipping through the pages with complete disregard for where she was up to. "Ronald Weasley is gonna regret ever messing with me,"

"It is not that bad," Hermione plucks the book from your grasp. "You did slip him Puking Pastilles the other day."

"That was funny though" A smile spreads over your lips at the memory of Ron throwing up in the great hall before charging out. “This isn’t”

"He threw up all over my shoes,"

"Gross," you laugh a little. "If it had been my shoes, it'd be a different story. What should I do to get back at him?"

"Leave him alone? Show you're the mature one and move on?"

"Don't be silly Hermione," Your head falls back against the plush fabric of the chair. "Why should I stop and not him? Maybe he should be the mature one."

"He won't stop unless you stop,"

"I could hex his broom at quidditch practice," You think out loud; chewing on the inside of your cheek. "Watch him fall on his face."

"Absolutely not. You're not putting him in the hospital wing over some silly prank war."

You gently roll your eyes. "We could-"

"There's no we," Hermione interrupts. "Please do not include me in your nonsense. I'm not helping you. Can you get off me?"

Sliding off her lap and onto the floor, you rest your head against her knee. "I'll think of something- don't you worry. He won't be getting away with this."

"At least do it quietly,"

You're quiet for the moment; going over different options while staring at a tower of books on the coffee table. Next to them say some parchment and a quill. "Are those yours? Can I borrow your quill?"

"Knock yourself out,"

You grab the feather and a piece of parchment paper and get to work laying out all your options to get back at Ron. Hermione would probably kill you if you hurt him so that rules out a fair few things. You could buy something at Zonko's but at this point he'd probably see those coming; you can only slip him sweets that make him sick so many times. Then again maybe it was just simple enough to work. You scribble it down on the parchment paper anyway. Next you add the nose biting teacup but that was rather impractical considering he hardly ever drank tea. Acid lollipops were an option, they would just burn a hole in his tongue but that could count as hurting him even if it was an easy fix.

"What are you writing?" Hermione wonders, you glance up to her and smile a little. "I assume you’re not studying all of a sudden."

"Nope," You hold up the paper for her. "I'm listing ways to get back at Ron."

"Of course you are," She takes your list. "Why don't you just buy a joke wand?"

"Boring," Jumping to your feet, you snatch the paper back. "I need to do something out of the box."

"Don't come to me when things go wrong," She insists softly, returning her attention to her book.

"Things won't go wrong," You declare proudly. You'd been doing this since your second year so you kind of have a knack for pulling pranks at this point. "Have a little faith in me."

It takes a day or two but thanks to Harry dragging you along to advanced potions class at the start of the year you decide the perfect way to get back at Ron is to make him fall in love with you. Well, a weird embarrassing obsession kind of love. Commence operation; practice your potion making by creating a love potion and tricking Ron into consuming it. Not only do you get to embarrass him but it can count as studying which will keep Hermione at bay. Not that you're going to tell her because Love potions of any kind are banned at Hogwarts and she'll just insist it's a bad idea. Now all you had to do was figure out how to actually make a love potion. Professor Slughorn has made one at the beginning of the year but you weren't actually taught how to make one nor do you actually remember much about class that day. Once you figured out how you could collect the ingredients and then trick Ron into drinking it. It shouldn't be too complicated.

Every free period following is spent huddled in the back of the library, searching through what felt like a mountains of books on potions. A good portion of what you read is just the history behind the potion itself and the dangers. It wasn't a potion that would cause him any harm so there was no need to worry. Eventually, you manage to create a checklist of ingredients that consisted of;

Ashwinder eggs

Rose thorns

Peppermint

Powdered Moonstone

Pearl Dust

Rose Petals

This joke was beginning to feel like more effort than it was worth but you were determined to see this through. Ron would never see this coming. After returning all your books to the shelves, you figure getting some help from Harry is the next step. The only place to get all the ingredients was from the potions classroom or the supply room. You couldn't just walk in and take stuff without seeming a little suspicious; you also weren't exactly Slughorn's favourite student. Everyone knew it was Harry. So your final option was to sneak around.

"Harry- wait up," You run up beside him as g walks through the courtyard. Rather surprised to find him alone considering your next class was with him and Ron.

"Hey,"

"Can I ask you for a favor?"

"Depends," He shrugs. You offer him a very gentle smile, fluttering your eyelashes a little. He wasn't exactly the type to say no to you but better safe than sorry.

"Can I borrow your invisibility cloak? I promise I'll return it tomorrow."

"What for?" Your stomach sinks a little at his question. You can't risk telling him in case he tells Ron which will ruin the surprise.

"I need some ingredients for a potion and I don't really feel like asking for permission," Telling half a truth is much easier than coming up with an entirely new lie. "Please? How many times have I broken the rules for you now and I would do it again."

"Professor Slughorn probably wouldn't mind if you just asked. What are you making anyway?"

"I just wanna do some late-night practice. I'm more of a do what I want then ask for forgiveness later kinda person so can I? Please?" Emphasis on the 'please' in hopes that it will somehow help your case.

"Sure,"

"Thank you," Looping your arm with his, you begin to practically drag the poor boy through the courtyard. You couldn't be late for class again. Snape would take any excuse to punish you. "let's get to class before we both end up in detention."

Thanks to Harry's cloak, you manage to collect every ingredient needed for your forbidden love potion and get to work. You wouldn't say potion making was your worst subject but it's definitely not your best either and it was showing. After a few attempts by candlelight in the early hours of the morning, you finally manage to create a love potion. Normally you'd test a potion before recklessly using it on unsuspecting friends but there was no time or way to do that without them catching on. The last step was simple, deliver all kinds of spiked candy to Ron Weasley and pretend like everything was normal.

Sitting in the great hall, you slowly lift spoonfuls of cereal into your mouth as you listen to Neville drone on about his dream; at least that's what you hope he's talking about. Last night had wiped you out; your body was exhausted. You could just about keep your eyes open and all you wanted to do was go back to bed. Hermione was sat directly across from you, very delicately buttering a piece of wholemeal toast.

"I don't think it means anything, you're just thinking too much into," Hermione explains to Neville. You just shrug your shoulders; you hadn't really been paying attention anyway but you manage to perk up a little as Harry plops down beside you.

"What time do you call this Potter?" You scold, bumping your shoulder playfully against his.

"And where's Ron?" Hermione continues.

"He should be here soon enough. He's just taking extra care getting ready."

"Why?"

"He's trying to impress someone," Harry reaches for a bowl of fresh fruit.

"Oh do tell," An aura of giddiness envelops your words as if you don't expect the answer to be yourself. There was a chance he hasn't taken the bait yet and he just genuinely had a crush.

"I promised I wouldn't,"

"Come on, Harry. We won't tell."

"He's never mentioned liking anyone before," Hermione adds to the conversation, biting into her toast with a crunch.

"I don't know- ask him." As if summoned on cue, The redhead appears beside Hermione. He doesn't seem any different other than the smile and distant look in his eyes. Not to mention, he may have combed his hair? You couldn't be sure though.

"Did you sleep in again," She pauses for a second, her brows knitting together in a frown. "And is that... cologne I smell?"

Ron doesn't answer, he just looks at you with the expression of someone hopelessly entranced. It's a little weird but you take it as a compliment on your potion-making skills. "You alright there Ron?"

"Perfectly fine," He nods.

"Are you gonna eat something? We have class soon?"

"I'm not hungry,"

"Not hungry?" The volume of Hermione's voice catches you off guard. "When have you ever not been hungry, Ronald?"

"First time for everything Hermione," You take a sip of your water. All eyes were on Ron but he couldn't tear his away from you; that dopey grin never quite fading away. Was this how it was supposed to work? You had never seen it in action before. "I'll see you all at lunch " You announce, rising from the table. "I forgot my quill again this morning and I can't keep pretending I remember the stuff I'm being taught."

"How many classes do you have today?" Harry calls out before you can leave. You'd think he'd know your schedule by now. "I was thinking we could practice some potions later?"

"She has two," Hermione answers for you.

"Today pretty quiet for me usually but I have a study session later with Luna. She's helping me in care of magical creatures sorry," You flash a tight smile. "Maybe next time."

You had one class this morning and then one straight after lunch. Your free periods were supposed to be spent studying considering you were taking five N.E.W.T classes but you've never been one to study when you don't have to. Thinking on it, you probably could have studied with Harry in your free period before lunch but you think he has class then. The morning class is over before you know it and you're heading back to your dorm for a well-deserved nap when you practically crash into a none other than a Weasley.

"Watch where you're going, Ron."

His expression immediately brightens and he stands a little taller. "Oh, it's you, hey."

"Hello," Ron was a pretty awkward guy on the best of days but this felt weirder. A small, awkward smile settles on your lips. "Don't you have a class right now?"

"Mhmm," He nods but doesn't move nor continue talking.

"Ooookay then, well... I'm gonna go." You slide by him and scamper away. "I'll see you in a little bit."

When you imagined him under the influence of a love potion you expected less creepy staring but maybe he was just working his way up to it.

After a very short nap, that kept getting interrupted you're sat in the great hall waiting for classes to end and lunch to officially begin. There were a decent amount of students, all doing their own thing. Meanwhile the Gryffindor table was practically empty other than Dean, who was sat at an angle on the other side of the table and a couple of seventh years. You'd gotten so bored while pretending to study that Dean had suggested playing a game; this is the third match to decide who comes out on top as the Hangman champion of this free period. Three letters in and none of them had been right. The wooden frame was already drawn and waiting for the stickman to be hung

"S?" You guess.

His head shakes as he draws a wonky circle to start the stickman's fate. "Sorry."

"... I maybe?"

"Finally you got one.," it was a ten letter word and he filled in the second and eighth letters With I's.

"Can you give me like a hint?"

"I'm not gonna help you beat me," Dean replies. "Hey, Harry,"

"Harry!" You greet brightly, turning to find him towering over you. "We're playing hangman, do you wanna join? I'm about to win."

"No, you're not-"

"Did you do something to Ron?" Harry cuts of Dean. You swallow hard. Busted... or maybe not. Your brow furrows as you focus on the curled edge of the parchment you had been playing on.

"What are you talking about? I haven't done anything, I've been with Dean for like the last hour."

"He just seems very interested in you all of a sudden. I thought it was a one-time thing this morning but I've had to suffer through two classes of him talking about how cute and dreamy you are."

"Ron has a crush on her?" Dean's tone was rather playful.

"Maybe he just realised how cool I am," Your shoulders rise in a little shrug. "H?"

"Where is Ron anyway?" Dean adds the letter H to the begging of the word. You still have no clue what the word is but thankfully your two other friends finally appear just in time to interrupt. You'd rather draw by forfeit then lose altogether. Ron nearly shoves Hermione out of the way just to sit down next to you.

"I missed you this morning,"

"Missed you too Ron," You pat him twice on the cheek.

"What did you do to him?" Hermione's eyes narrow in on you.

"Who?"

"Ron obviously," She huffs. "I bumped into in the hallway and he said he couldn't wait to see you."

"As his friend, I'm happy he's excited to see me," You counter, resting your head on his shoulder. "At least someone at this table appreciates how cool I am."

"You're awesome," Ron wraps his arms around you, pulling you into a tight side-hug "I think I may be in love,"

Dean giggles to himself but Hermione is anything but amused. "For goodness sake, you can't be serious?"

"I'm very serious," He fights back, sounding almost offended but such an accusation. "In fact," a wave of regret washes over you as Ron gets up and climbs onto the bench in front of the now rather busy great hall. "I'm in love with-" you sink down as he shouts your name for everyone to hear. Mean snickers and playful giggles follow. You reach for his hand, tugging on his arm gently as to not hurt him.

"Sit down," you spit through gritted teeth. Heat rushing to your cheeks as if him announcing his love to everyone wasn't embarrassing enough already

You try to enjoy lunch as much as possible with Ron attached to your side. Hermione was relatively quiet but her harsh glare was enough to put you off starting anything with her. And so you mostly spoke to Harry and finished your game with Dean. The word was Hippogriff which you managed to guess before the final leg finished off the stickman. Thankfully, your next class provided a nice escape from Ron. However it couldn't stop the sly comments in the hallways and mean laughter. This joke was very quickly becoming anything but funny.

This continued into the next day, you were regretting spiking so much candy. Not to mention Hermione hadn't spoken to you since lunch yesterday and you couldn't figure out why exactly. Normally she gets a little annoyed at your silly jokes with Ron but she seemed really mad at you. And considering you share a dorm room, things were feeling very tense, to say the least.

Managing to slip away from Ron long enough for a quick conversation, you find your fellow Gryffindor sat alone having an early breakfast. "I said I wouldn't help you,"

"Huh?" You hadn't even asked her anything yet or sat down for that matter but at least she's talking to you again.

"You want my help right?" She meets your gaze as you take a seat. "What did you do?"

"I actually wanted to know what was wrong?" Which was very much true. "You seemed... upset yesterday. I don't like it when you're mad at me."

"Judging by the way he was all over you yesterday my guess is It was a love potion correct?" you're impressed that she managed to guess and so quickly too. "A strong one at that. That is the only way to explain him suddenly being in love with you."

"I'm offended that you don't think Ron could like me that way," The words came a little more defensively than intended. "am I really that bad?"

Hermione's face morphs through a sea of emotions finally settling on looking a little disheartened. You wonder what's going on in her pretty little head. "It's not that I don't think he could like you that way- maybe he does and that would be fine. You're..." She seems hesitant to continue, her head falling. "amazing. Just that's not what this is."

"You're right," You confirm, pouring yourself a glass of orange juice. "Like always. I slipped him a love potion thinking it would be funny and now it's not."

"How can you be so reckless," Compared she seemed so delicate just moments ago, she quickly bounces back to scold you. "You know they're not allowed at school."

"Worth it," A small chuckle bubbles up from your throat. It had been a little funny and definitely embarrassing plus you got to test your skills so you weren't inherently regretting your decision. You just wish the effects would fade already. "I didn't learn the antidote and I'm not spending hours in the library again."

"It'll wear off soon enough, how much did you give him."

"I made like... a cauldron full but I don't know how much he consumed."

"So it's my understanding that you idiotically gave him a lot?"

Words mumbled by your juice, you nod to convey your answer.

"Then it'll take a while to wear off."

Ron slides up beside you, taking you by surprise. The juice comes back up in sputtering coughs. "Speak— of— the devil."

"Good morning my beautiful angel," Even you cringe at that one. Harry takes a seat on your left side. "Did you sleep well?"

"You should know, you were watching me this morning," Ron pulls you closer to him. When you awoke this morning, not only was Hermione already gone but it had been quite the surprise to find Ron had snook into the girl's dorms to be with you.

"You're so adorable when you're sleeping."

"If you'll excuse me, I can only handle so much nauseating sweetness," Hermione takes one sympathetic look at you and then scurries away like she can't handle being here any longer. Something was definitely off with her. Today was gonna be a long day...

How you longed for the weekend to come early as each class tortured you with new knowledge that had to be burnt into your brain. It didn't help that Ron was getting increasingly annoying; it was like he was incapable of being alone. After the school day finally ended, you retired to the common room; both the boys joined you. Harry was complaining about how much work he's been assigned from one class while Ron seemed happy to just be near you in any compacity. Which right now meant having his arm around you.

"Here," Hermione interrupts, dropping a plugged vial onto your lap.

"What is it?"

"An antidote." She was biting back an insult or an 'I told you so', you couldn't be sure but there was a hint of aggression behind her words.

"Drink this," Before you even have time to process, Harry is shoving the vial towards Ron.

"What is it?"

"I think you should try it," Ron doesn't even question the request when it comes from you. He takes the vial and downs it in one. An unsure look is shared between you and Hermione but sure enough, Ron's goofy grin begins to fade.

"What the bloody hell happened?"

"I slipped you a love potion and you became obsessed with me." You answer. "It was funny at first but then you announced you were In love with me to the whole school."

"You think a love potion is the same as a comb that changes your hair?" The boy sank into the seat cushion, finally removing his arm from around your shoulders. "I don’t feel so good."

"He needs something to perk him up," Hermione states. If she knew that, she should have come prepared.

"He has candy hidden in his draws"

"Yeah... it's probably best if he gets rid of all that," You admit, getting up. "Wait here,"

It was only fair you provided something so you grab the last chocolate bar you had from your dorm room. "You shouldn't have messed with my hair." You declare, handing over the chocolate with an almost sad smile.

"Now you two can hopefully put this silly war to bed."

"Not likely," Your voice syncs with Ron's, and with it comes a genuine smile. It was nice he was back to normal.

"I have to get back at her."

"And how will you do that Weasley?" You drop back down next to him.

"I think I'll go back to the good old fashioned permanent marker while you sleep."

"Why would you tell me in advance?"

"Because you don't know when I'm gonna do it." He declares with a mischievous glint in his eye. "So now you'll be on edge waiting for it to happen."

In this situation, the equivalent to snitching to a teacher to prevent something from happening was to tell the only one opposed to this whole situation entirely. "Hermione tell him. You had no problem insisting I be the bigger person."

She simply rolls her eyes before turning to Weasley. "Ronald, Consider not retaliating especially with a permanent marker before one of you," she glances towards you; rightful so. "Goes too far."

"she started it," He protests, "I didn't sip her a love potion."

"You better not come anywhere near me with marker pens."

"Sometimes I think I'm talking to myself." And with that, she wonders off

"I'm watching you, Weasley," Now, you were going to have to keep a very close eye on him to assure you didn't wake up with a fake mustache or something. Jumping up you chase after Hermione.

"Thanks for helping." You fall into step with her. "I'd be lost without you."

"I know,"

"Wow. Modest." You mumble sarcastically before falling silent; unsure of how to approach the next question. "Do you like Ron by any chance?"

"Excuse me?"

"Do you like Ron?" You repeat. It was the only explanation you could come up with over why she would be so angry the last couple of days. "You seemed really upset since he's been all over me so I thought maybe it was like jealousy or something."

"Don't be ridiculous," She fires back. "I don't like Ron."

"I never imagined you two together but I think you'd be sweet," You comment, intentionally trying to get a rise out of her. Hermione sighs loudly as she comes to a stop.

"Ron is one of my best friends but I don't like him in that way," From a few steps away, you turn back to her. She's clutching a few books tightly against her chest, refusing to look at you. "I swear that I don't."

"Then what?"

"I don't know," She shrugs pathetically. "I just saw him all over you and I didn't like it. You're never normally like that together and he kept pushing me aside to get to you."

"I'm not following," You're honestly more confused than before.

She approaches you slowly, still unable to meet your gaze but her lips very softly connect with your cheek. "I promise I won't let him draw on your face with permanent marker."

Her words spark a lightbulb. You've never done a double prank but perhaps now would be a good chance. You could do it to him before he gets the chance to do it to you.

"Hmmm... So can I draw on his face with washable markers?"

With a heavy sigh, she simply states her favourite word "No!"

"But-"

"No." Hermione continues walking and you're left watching her.

"Hey," You call out. "Do you wanna head down to Hogsmeade tomorrow? I'll buy you a butterbeer to say thank you."

"You just want to visit the joke shop, don't you?"

"Desperately," She always could see right through you. "But still. I want to go- just you and me."

"I would like that," She finally meets your gaze and she looks happier now. The almost set sun, casting her in such a warm, welcoming glow. Hermione was a hard girl to figure out but that's what made her so interesting. "I was hoping to get a new quill anyway."

#Hermione Granger x reader #ron weasley x reader #harry potter #Hermione x reader #hermione granger #ron weasley #harry potter fanfiction #stephs200challenge

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imaginesandinserts · 3 years

Text

Irreverent Pt. 40 - New York

Title: Irreverent Pt. 40 - New York Pairing: Aaron Hotchner x Reader Rating: M Words: 7070

Irreverent Series Masterlist

You'd spent four weeks on and off in a cramped apartment in Paris with only Clyde for company when you swapped shifts. The two of you were becoming very comfortable with one another, and to his credit he had yet to try and make any sort of move.

The surveillance you were running was a long term operation, so you found yourself with an excess of time with nothing to do. You had mounted a punching bag to the ceiling so you could stay in shape. Derek would kill you if you spent four weeks eating nothing but croissants and undid all of your (his) hardwork.

In your time off, you lived out of a hotel room. You'd debated simply buying a property in Paris to replace the one you'd handed off to your mother, and had even spent two long afternoons with a realtor. However, you found yourself really wishing Aaron was around to help you pick the one - any place you got now would really be meant for the two of you. Maybe Christmas in Paris with Jack so that the three of us can find a place we all like. Something away from the tourist traps - in the Trocadéro perhaps, something with a balcony.

You video called Aaron and Jack any spare moment you had, in between your visits back home every ten days or so. You swore Jack looked bigger between each visit. If Aaron was anything to go by, you were convinced Jack would be taller than you any day now. Aaron had pointed out that you were just exceptionally short, before lifting you with ease and throwing you onto the bed.

Clyde was prepping another round of surveillance but could tell you were as close to burnt out as possible, so had recruited another agent at Interpol under him, to take the next couple of weeks. He'd seen you off to the airport with strict instructions to recuperate and come back with your head in the game.

You arrived back home to an empty house. Jess and Andrew had taken the kids to the lake house to catch the last bit of summer, which you'd only remembered once you were already halfway across the Atlantic. Had you remembered earlier you would've swapped with Clyde and taken off a week when Jack would be home as well. As it was, you spent your first couple of hours doing laundry and repacking a new go bag. Aaron was flying back from a case in North Carolina and would be arriving later that night.

After showering and changing into loungewear, you slipped on Aaron's old law school hoodie (which pretty permanently lived in your side of the closet) before going back downstairs to put something together for dinner. With all three of you gone for the past few days, the groceries were meager. You debated running out to the store but if Jack was gone and you and Aaron got called in on a case the next day, that would be a waste. Settling for defrosting one of the lasagnas you'd made the last time you'd been back, you ended up snacking on Jack's fruit gummies in the meantime.

When Aaron got home, you were asleep on the couch with a blanket covering you. He carefully walked past the foyer and went upstairs to shower and change. You'd finished the laundry it would appear so at least he had fresh clothes to choose from and pack his own go bag. When he got back downstairs, you stirred slightly, catching sight of him dressed in pajamas with his hair still wet from the shower.

"Hey." Your voice was soft and sleepy and you made no effort to get up from the couch. Instead, you opened your arms, raising the blanket with you. Aaron smiles just slightly, before quickly joining you on the couch, his head on your chest, arms wrapped around your waist. He mumbles a hello against your breasts, gently nuzzling while your legs entangle with his and you bring the blanket around to cover him as well.

"Are you hungry?" you ask. You'd been waiting on him to come home before you would actually put the food in the oven. You'd eaten two packs of the fruit gummies and a handful of almonds before exhaustion from the time difference had caught up with you and you hadn't been able to resist laying down on the couch with the late afternoon sun warming you up.

He shakes his head at your question. The team had grabbed food before boarding the plane and eating felt like too much effort. You're soft and warm against him and he finds himself drifting away to the feel of your fingers running through his damp hair, your other arm wrapped around the top of his shoulders.

"Was it a bad case?" Your question is hesitant, as if you're not certain if he'd want to talk about it yet if it was.

He tilts his head up to look at you, meeting your warm regard. "Aren't they all?" he manages with a grimace. He hadn't wanted to complain to you right then, but you also knew. If the team was there at all, nothing good was happening. No case was ever really good.

"I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

He shakes his head. Talking wouldn't do much.

You lean down, your lips just barely reaching his forehead before grazing against him.

He takes in a small breath before turning back. You feel the press of his lips against your chest and his hands drawing circles along your waist and stomach. He takes a deeper breath, letting himself be held by you.

*------------*

You had a morning meeting with McKinney to update him on the progress being made on the case with Interpol. He'd been please with everything you reported and brought up a few things he wanted you to consider.

"Agent Hotchner has been many things in your life - a boss, a mentor, and now the two of you are in a relationship. There will come a time where you have to make some concrete choices about the future and choose which roles you'd like for him to keep."

"Are you and your ex-wife still friends?" you ask.

McKinney seems surprised by your question, but he nods nonetheless. "We are, yes. For our daughter's sake."

"Same for me and Aaron. He doesn't need to be my boss or my boyfriend. But he'll always have to be my friend because of Jack." Not that you could even fathom a future without Aaron in it, but were it to ever happen you knew that you and Aaron would forever be in each other's lives. For Jack.

He nods understandingly. The two of you had formed enough of a relationship for him to understand that you were as ready as you ever would be to make the move more permanent.

"I'll sign off on some paperwork and have you designated as a temporary consult for the BAU then. I'm assuming you'll still want to participate in cases when you can."

"Yes, thank you sir."

When you got to the bullpen, it was to find it nearly empty with only Spencer, and even he appeared to be leaving.

"Hey, where is everyone?"

"Got a case. Need to ask Garcia to run something. Emily, JJ, and Morgan left already because she forgot her go bag," Spencer explained as he hurriedly grabbed his own stuff and made his way to the elevators. "Hotch should be in his office, still," he throws over his shoulder as he walks off.

"Thanks Spence."

You quickly make your way upstairs and knock on Aaron's office door before entering. He's seated in his chair, making a phone call, but gestures you in as you close the door behind you. You walk to his side of the desk and make yourself at home on his lap, your arm wrapped around his shoulders. He's obviously not very happy with whoever is on the other end but still smiles at you, wrapping an arm around your waist to hold you steady.

If everyone was going on a case, you didn't want to sit at home and do nothing. Surveillance in Paris had been boring and you needed something mentally stimulating. "Can I come on the case?" you whisper, your other hand resting on his chest.

He quirks an eyebrow at you. He had thought you'd use the week off to properly rest. However he ends up simply nodding. He knew you wouldn't do well at home with neither him nor Jack around. You'd probably end up finding some sort of project that would exhaust you. He'd just have you take it easy during the case.

Aaron hangs up with a frustrated sigh. He puts his phone down on his desk, bringing both arms to wrap around you.

"What's wrong?" you ask, shifting to face him better

"There is not a single hotel in the city with more than two rooms available," he explains. He'd been on the phone since the briefing ended and he'd had absolutely no luck.

You realized you had no actual information on the case at all. "Where are you looking?"

"New York."

"Like, New York, New York? We finally have a case in Manhattan?" Your face lights up. In all your time with the team, you'd never had a case in the city. Since your life had pretty much revolved around work for the past few years, you hadn't been back since your first holidays at the Bureau.

"Yes," Aaron smiles at your obvious excitement. He knew you had a special connection to New York. "And absolutely nowhere to stay, so we'll all really get to enjoy the Big Apple at night from the streets."

You laugh at his dramatics. "We can just stay at my place."

"Your place? You still have it?" he questions, his head tilting in confusion. You hadn't lived there in years, he couldn't imagine why you'd maintained a residence there.

"Yeah, I never bothered selling, and its big enough," you reply, shrugging your shoulders.

Of course you had a place big enough in Manhattan to comfortably host seven people. Aaron had to resist an eyeroll. He was really starting to do that a lot more and Prentiss had called him out on it, saying it looked unnatural on his face.

"You're sure?"

"Yeah, of course. I'll make some calls," you reply, placing a quick kiss to his cheek before standing to head to the airport. "You can brief me on the case on the way. I have no idea what I'm walking into."

The two of you grab Rossi and Reid (with a quick hello for Penelope along with a delivery of croissants) and make your way to the airport. The three of them together fill you in on the details of the case. New York had had a rash of arson cases across the city and each time they'd uncovered bodies - male and female - tied up ang gagged. By the time firefighters arrived and put out the fires, the bodies were half burnt, however the Medical Examiner's report revealed that the victims had been alive at the time of the fire. Most of them had died from asphyxiation and smoke in their lungs before the fire ever got to them.

Apparently Emily had been a total disaster magnet, as her go bag hadn't been at her house either. She'd had to pack an entirely new bag while Derek and JJ waited for her, so the rest of you had managed to make it onto the plane before them. When they finally arrive - with Emily throwing apologies all around and grabbing a croissant from the box you'd left in the middle for everyone - the plane finally takes off.

"How many pastries did you eat every day?" Derek asks disapprovingly, poking at your stomach as he settles in across from you.

Damn it. You'd hope he wouldn't notice. "I told you," you muttered to Aaron, who only shakes his head. You'd lamented the fact that your six pack was turning into a four pack that morning while the two of you had gotten ready for work. He'd tried reassuring you that you were still in good shape and a few pastries weren't going to kill you. But what did he know? He managed to go on a run once in a blue moon and still look great.

For his part, Aaron had noticed of course that you were the teensiest bit softer from a whole month in Paris, but he didn't mind at all. A little more to hold and most of the weight had gone right to your ass so he really wasn't complaining at all. Plus, Aaron Hotchner was a smart man. He wasn't about to be the one to tell his girlfriend that she'd gained maybe five pounds from a month in Paris, surrounded by her favorite food and stuck in an apartment with very little to do.

"Probably a few too many," you admit guiltily. "Wanna work out again once we're back?" You figured you might as well put that out there so he'll be nicer to you.

"Yeah, but we aren't waiting till we get back. You and I are going on a run. Early tomorrow morning." His voice is full of threat of bad things to come if you complain, so you nod meekly, knowing you're in for a heck of a workout if he has anything to say about it.

"I can't believe you let him say that to you," Emily remarks, stuffing a second croissant into her mouth, looking every bit the picture of perfection.

You laugh. Derek wasn't being intentionally mean. "I told him he has to be mean to me," you explain. "Otherwise I'll just let it slide and do the bare minimum to pass the physical exam. Honestly I didn't even eat that many pastries and if I had been doing cases like normal here I would've been fine. Sitting in an apartment all day long is killer."

They all agree with you - no one enjoyed surveillance cases. The team chats a bit more about Paris, the case, and what everyone had been up to while you were away.

"Wait, Derek, I almost forgot, when're you going to ask Savannah?" You turn to Derek, eager to know what he'd decided for his proposal to Savannah. Him and Penelope had gone to pick out the ring a few weeks back, video calling you during, and he'd managed to pick out a gorgeous ring for her.

"Our anniversary is coming up, so probably the day right before if we're free. That way we can celebrate the actual anniversary properly," he says, waggling his eyebrows.

You laugh. "Well, just make sure it's the kind of proposal she'll like. Nothing big and public."

"Yeah, probably just the two of us actually. I'm planning on picking her up from work and taking her to that new property I've been working on to show her properly," he says. Derek had shown you all photos of the place that he was remodeling and you knew it was his vision of his forever home. The fact that he was choosing to propose to Savannah there spoke volumes.

"That's actually cute," Emily remarks, impressed that he'd managed to put together something that wasn't entirely cringe inducing.

"Hey don't sound too surprised." The two of them rib at each for a bit as you watch fondly. You'd missed this.

"What was your first proposal like?" Emily asks, turning away from Derek and glancing quickly at Hotch beside you, bent over a stack of paperwork as usual. However by now, you all know that that means nothing - he hears everything.

Aaron listens in as you tell Emily about how Matthew had proposed at Thanksgiving your last year of college, in front of everyone. He cringes internally, knowing that definitely was not your style. You'd want it to be private - something special that only you could have. He has a hard time not looking up at the baggage stowaway where a small box has sat, hidden in a pair of socks he never wears, just waiting for the right moment.

"You should've dumped him in public - revenge for the public proposal," Emily says, a dark smile marring her face.

"I pretty much had to," you reply. "I broke up with him earlier in private, returned the ring and everything. But he found me, out at a bar later and went totally ballistic, accusing me of all sorts of things. My friend Ricky ended up punching him in the face."

Aaron chuckles, looking up finally and revealing that he had, of course, been listening the whole time. "I think I'd like this Ricky kid." Anyone punching Matthew in the face was good in his book.

You share a look with Derek and there's a smirk dancing at his lips. He knew exactly who Ricky was.

Smiling, you lean into Aaron ever so slightly. "I think you would too."

You'd felt him tense earlier as you told Emily about Matthew's proposal - you weren't sure if it was because of Matthew or the proposal. You'd had to resist peaking over at him while you spoke with Emily, knowing he'd notice that for sure. You didn't want to send the wrong impression. Not that you were expecting a proposal anytime soon. It hadn't even been a whole year since the two of you were together, and with Aaron, you weren't sure if a proposal was coming at all.

You knew if you voiced this to Emily or anyone, they'd tell you were crazy. That of course Hotch wanted to marry you - how could you think he wouldn't. But Aaron had already done the marriage thing and it hadn't gone so well. After Haley, you were surprised he wanted to risk his heart again at all. Your relationship was already more than you could have ever imagined or hoped for. You didn't need to be married to him if that wasn't something he could give to you. He'd already given enough.

You looked across the aisle and saw that JJ looked a little pale. She hadn't grabbed a croissant like everyone else, which was fine of course. However she also had an unopened bag of Cheetos in front of her and that was definitely not normal. The plane gets some turbulence and her hands fly to her mouth. The next second she's up and rushing to the bathroom.

You share a look with Emily. That definitely wasn't normal. The two of you get up and walk towards the back of the plane to wait for her.

As JJ exits, you hand her a bottle of water which she accepts gratefully.

"Are you okay?" Emily asks, reaching out to smooth her hair in place.

JJ looks apprehensively between the two of you before nodding. "Yeah," her voice is soft as if she's trying not to be overheard. However something passes over her face and you can see her steel herself. Raising her voice, she draws the attention of everyone on the plane. "Actually I have some news to share. I'm pregnant," she announces, smiling slightly.

"Oh my goodness, congratulations." Emily quickly wraps her into a hug.

You hug her next as the three of you walk back to your seats and everyone else also congratulates her. Rossi kisses both her cheeks and tells her he's excited for a new bambino in the family.

You settle back down into your seat next to Aaron as everyone pulls JJ into baby talk. Aaron's hand finds its way to yours, intertwining your fingers together and giving you a light squeeze.

You look over at him and he's giving you a look. The look that asks, Are you alright?

You glance towards JJ and smile, before looking back at him. I'm not going to fall apart because JJ is pregnant and I'm not. I'm alright. He can read your looks well enough by now.

He nods hesitantly but doesn't push the matter. The two of you weren't even trying for a baby but Aaron felt a dull ache in his chest at the subject on your behalf. He worried that it affected you more than you let on, despite how you engaged with JJ and asked her when she was due and started discussing throwing her a baby shower with Emily.

He keeps his hand intertwined with yours the rest of the plane ride.

*------------*

Hotch assigns out roles to everyone - sending Prentiss and Morgan to the latest crime site and Reid starts working on a geographic profile while Rossi and JJ go to speak with the victims' families. He keeps you with him at the precinct to go meet with the lead detective on the case.

You'd made a phone call on the car ride over, speaking in accented Russian with a woman named Tatiana, and he realized he hadn't actually known you spoke Russian. French, Spanish, and Urdu he'd known about. He briefly wonders what else he doesn't know about you.

When he was still moving into the house, he'd come across some photos of you in a sleek white dress looking ethereally beautiful, dancing with a boy who looked barely old enough to drive. The white gloves and other kids dancing in the background suggested it was your cotillion. There were a few more photos - photos of you dancing with your father and brothers and then another of you dancing with a blonde man who towered over you. Finally there were the polaroids of what was obviously an after party to the same event. Your dress was the slightest bit wrinkled in those and you were mostly photographed with Julian and the blonde man, your young, age-appropriate date nowhere to be seen. The photo that had really caught his eye was one of you draped across both men, leaning against Julian with your legs on the blonde man's lap, your white dress splayed around you. You'd seen what Aaron was looking at and told him how you'd exchanged your original white dress for one that was more adult and had an open back and how you'd been the scandal of the season. He'd laughed, looking back at the photo in his hand. Julian was looking at the camera while you drank straight from a bottle of champagne. That blonde man however, his eyes were trained on you and you alone.

The two of you arrive at the precinct and are directed to the conference room where, through the windows, he could see a black man in a suit speaking with a uniformed officer. Aaron walks to the conference room with you at his heels and knocks on the open door to announce your arrival.

The black man looks up at the knock. "Agent Hotchner," he greets, walking over to the two of you, his eyes trained on Hotch before he catches sight of you and his eyes get wide. "Y/N! What're you doing here?" he exclaims, leaning down to give you a slight hug.

You smile wide, returning the gesture. "I'm with the BAU," you explain.

"You're a Fed?" He seems very surprised at that and Aaron watches as you chuckle.

"Hey, you aren't Officer Lewis anymore, you're a detective. So looks like we both moved on up in life," you tease, giving him a friendly shove.

Detective Lewis laughs at that though he still appears surprised.

Hotch looks between the two of you, eyebrow quirked up in question. "You two know one another, I presume."

You nod. "Yeah, back when I lived in New York, the then Officer Lewis helped me out with a little stalker issue I was having. He was the only one that believed me," you explain with a slight smile on your face.

You had had a stalker? Aaron starts to ask for more information on the matter, however he's interrupted by the uniformed officer telling you that the evidence you'd asked to see on your way in was available. You quickly excuse yourself with another smile at Detective Lewis and himself.

As if sensing his need to know more, Detective Lewis turns to Hotch, to explain how you'd had a stalker who had been following you around for the better part of two months and when you'd reported it, no one had taken it too seriously until the guy had cornered you with a knife one day and cut some of your hair to take with him. "Nasty piece of work. Her lawyer got the judge to issue a warrant and they ended up finding child porn on his computer so they got him for that. The whole place was like a shrine to her though. There were photos of her everywhere, even inside her apartment. Completely nuts dude who was probably on the path to do something much worse than cutting some hair."

Aaron nods grimly as he watches you speaking with the officer across the room. Even in heels you stood a head shorter than most people. Sure, you were strong and could fight now, but he knew that hadn't always been the case. He could just imagine some terrifyingly large man cornering you at night and shoving you against a wall before knifing hair off of your head. The thought alone made bile rise in his throat.

"Anyways," Detective Lewis continued, "there was a prison riot a month after his arrest and he died during that. Good riddance I say."

So much for the small blessings.

*------------*

Later that evening once the team had made some headway in the case but it was far too late to do much more, everyone headed out to drive to your place. Aaron pulled up to the address on the GPS - an older building just across from Central Park and close to the Midtown precinct the team was based out of.

Everyone exits the vehicle, Morgan and the rest in the car that had pulled up right behind him. An older man dressed in a plain yet well-fitted suit had exited to meet you.

"Petyr!," you greeted, meeting him halfway and kissing both cheeks.

The man - who appeared to be Eastern European - respectfully returned a smile. "Hello Miss. It is lovely to see you again."

You hand over both of the car keys to Petyr and ask that they be fueled and ready by eight in the morning, before leading everyone inside. Aaron can sense the collective mixed energy of the team - excitement and apprehension and exhaustion from the day they'd all had. It was rare for the Bureau to put them up in a nice hotel and as they entered the lobby of the building, it was clear that this was nicer than any place they'd ever stayed in prior.

They all follow you, past a desk of similarly suited men - all of whom are carrying firearms, Aaron notes - seated in front of screens monitoring the location. You wave at them and Aaron sees one of the screens populate with the entire team's names and faces as the security personnel glance over the group.

He expects you to lead them to the elevators behind the desk, however you open a door to the right just past the security desk, revealing a second set of lifts. You enter last, pressing the only button available and the elevator begins to rise. And rise. And rise.

The team spills out of the elevator, directly into a large living room with floor to ceiling windows, of what is quite obviously the penthouse. The gasps from Prentiss and JJ as they walk towards the windows to get a view of the city and park below are telling. Even Dave seems impressed.

Aaron looks around and he can tell it is your place - the deep navy blues and forest greens of the throw pillows on the large couch, the grand piano sitting in a corner (You'd recently began teaching Jack on the smaller one that sat in the living room at home.), the large marble kitchen island with a bowl of lemons sitting at the center. It was the wall art which truly stood out however - a lot more Warhol and Basquiat rather than the watercolors he was used to with you. It was a dialed up version of your home now. Your place in Georgetown was a muted version of this - a more grown up and less ostentatious version which spoke to how you'd tried to fit in early on with the team and underplay exactly how wealthy you were.

The team mills about remarking at the place as you point them all to rooms down the hallway to the left. From down the hallway he hears Morgan's voice. "There's a mint on my pillow!"

JJ walks to the kitchen and opens the fridge to reveal that it is fully stocked - drinks of every sort. The cabinets were stocked with snacks and Aaron notices that there were Cheetos for JJ and the pretzel sticks that Reid munches on mindlessly when he's deep in thought. The wet bar to the side of the kitchen has Rossi's brand of scotch. You point to an intercom machine and tell them they can order food using it.

"We can't have restaurants deliver here directly," you explain. "There's some people in the building who are sensitive about revealing their address, so the guys downstairs will handle it. Just ask for whatever you want from any restaurant in a reasonable distance. They'll take care of the check and everything."

"At some point, we're going to have to have a talk about how much money you have exactly," he mutters to you as you come to stand by his side at the edge of the kitchen.

You laugh, that laugh that causes his heart to skip ever so slightly every time. "Oh honey, we're gonna need lawyers for that conversation," you respond, your eyes twinkling with amusement.

He had a feeling you weren't joking.

He moves to head down the hallway towards the bedrooms but you stop him, indicating a different hallway to the side of the kitchen instead. The two of you say good night to the rest of the team, leaving Prentiss and Rossi sitting on the couch with identical glasses of scotch poured, JJ munching on whatever snacks she could carry with her, and Reid browsing through the bookshelves lining the corner behind the piano. Morgan had already retired for the night.

*------------*

You led Aaron down the hallway and to your old room. It was weird having everyone here, especially since you hadn't been back here yourself since you'd started with the BAU. The one time you'd come back to New York after joining the Bureau officially had been that first holiday season, and you hadn't stayed here then.

You couldn't deny that you were a little apprehensive about Aaron's reaction to the place. It was definitely a more vibrant and rebellious version of you - the version that had just found out about Julian and just broken it off with Matthew and had sought only to escape. Your entire apartment was a testament to that idea - a stark contrast to the Connecticut old money roots that you'd grown up in.

You watched as he looked around the bedroom. This was perhaps the room which would feel the most familiar to him. Your shared room back home was a near mirror copy, down to the mirror in the corner. You'd never really compromised on how you wanted your bedroom to be, though you couldn't deny that it fit in a lot better with the Georgetown house. Here it felt washed out compared to the rest of the apartment.

You see a smile appear on his face as he sees the mirror in the corner. "Never took you to be such a creature of habit," he remarks, undoing his tie.

"Only when it comes to the bedroom. I don't play around with where I sleep."

You find yourself watching as he removes the tie with a soft pull and the jacket comes off right after, followed by the belt.

"I'm going to take a bath," you tell him, heading towards the door to the bathroom. You hope he'll decide to join you but don't bother asking.

After turning the water on and finding the bath bomb you like, stocked to the side, you drop it into the large tub. Quickly taking your clothes off, you climb into the tub and let the hot water envelop you. It had been a long time since you'd really enjoyed a bath, and the warmth from the water seeped into your bones as you relaxed against the back of the tub, the smell of gardenias wafting around you. Tatiana was about to get a wonderful tip for her work today. The bath bomb had been an unasked for extra.

You're so far blissed out that you barely hear the sound of the bathroom door opening as Aaron enters. He sees you with your head leaned back and eyes closed, the bubbles in the tub grazing the top of your chest and hiding the rest of you beneath.

"Hey." His voice is soft so as to not startle you.

You open your eyes to see him taking off the rest of his clothes, before he dims the bathroom light so that the two of you are bathed in a warm yellow glow. You shift forward and give him a hand to help him climb into the tub and slot himself behind you. His long legs nearly touch the other end as they stretch out on either side of you. Aaron pulls you back to lean against his chest. The water is too warm for his taste but he knows you run colder than he does. There's a view from the tub of the entire city and he can see the Empire State Building entirely lit up.

"Are there any other homes I should know about? You're not hiding a chalet in the Swiss Alps, are you?"

You chuckle, tilting your head back to look at his face. "There's a few more properties that I kept. I handed off most everything in Europe to my mother, besides my first place in Florence."

"Your first place?"

"I helped my father with a business deal when I was fifteen," you answer, tilting your head up to look straight out into the city. "He told me to pick a city and he'd buy me a place there if the deal went well. I always loved Florence."

Aaron takes note of the slight conflict in your tone. Your father is very much a touchy subject and he knows you find it difficult to enjoy the things in your past that are still linked to him. He doubted you'd been back there since.

"We should go to Florence then," he whispers, placing a kiss to the side of your neck and resting his head on your shoulder.

You smile, bringing your hand up to touch his cheek. He kisses the edge of your palm, the only part his lips could reach. "Maybe you can grow out the beard again then," you joke. There was a small part of you that was curious and regretted having been on the outs with him for those two weeks when he'd been back and had a full beard. It had never happened again. Jack hadn't been a fan apparently.

Aaron breathes out a laugh, the sensation causing goosebumps on your skin. "You liked the beard?" He sounds amused and a little bit…cautiously curious.

"Mm I think I just regret having missed out on that experience. We should've just had hate sex or something when you got back from Pakistan."

This time his laugh is deeper and he pulls you back against him tighter, drawing a squeal from your mouth. He cups your face towards him, capturing your lips in a sweetly insistent kiss, causing a moan to escape from you. His touch is gentle. It always is with you. A reminder that hate sex isn't really a concept between you. Even in the moments when you're rougher with one another, a touch more aggressive, pushing boundaries and testing limits, it's never hate. Frustration, sure. Anger, maybe. But hate? No. Never.

You lean back against him, allowing his body to hold you up entirely. His hands roam. Past your arms, brushing the underside of your breasts, moving lower. He peppers the top of you shoulders with soft kisses and you allow your eyes to flutter shut and simply enjoy his touch.

You dance your fingers against his thighs, feeling the thick muscles there flex and unflex as your touch moves back and forth.

His hand cups you under the water, one finger grazing against your opening, then two. With his other hand he cups your breast, his thumb brushing back and forth over the nipple, each graze sending the barest of sensation rushing through you, as he gently coaxes it into a peak. You know you're growing wetter and its not just the bathwater.

His light touch is dizzying in its barely thereness. He enters you with two fingers, softly exploring. He crooks his fingers just barely, finding the rough patch inside and grazing over it as his thumb finds your clit, rubbing it in languid circles. He continues the light touches until he's drawn far too many soft and wanton moans from you. The water is warm and your head is heady from the perfume that sits over the entire room and Aaron is solid behind you, taking his time working you up to the edge. When he finally lets you come, it is almost as an afterthought. His lips have never once left you in their devotion.

Hate never really was an option.

*------------*

Derek had been an absolute drill sergeant, knocking on your door at five thirty in the morning. You'd forced yourself to get up so he wouldn't wake Aaron, grabbing the workout clothes from your bag and taking them outside with you. Derek had turned around as you quickly got dressed and the two of you had run five miles, after which he made you do burpees and push ups in the park. You had gotten back to your room completely exhausted, promising yourself you wouldn't even look at a croissant again. Yeah, right.

Aaron was already up by the time you had returned. He'd managed to figure out the coffee machine in the kitchen after realizing it was a slightly older version of the one you had at home and had made you a latte just how you liked it. He handed it to you as you exited the bedroom dressed in a suit he hadn't seen before. It looked like you'd gone shopping in Paris, the dark green suit fitting you like a glove. You'd paired it with black stilettos as you were going to be spending most of the day at the precinct anyways.

"Good morning," he says, smiling appreciatively at the new outfit.

You hopped up onto the kitchen island as you usually did on mornings when it was just the two of you. He leaned against the counter across from you, drinking what was sure to be his second cup. You took a sip of the latte he'd made and it was perfect. Sometimes you wondered how Haley had dealt with him, because while Aaron was certainly capable there was a lot of stuff which he did automatically now that you'd had to teach him - making the perfect cup of coffee being the most important one. Though it hadn't all happened over the course of just your relationship. The coffee thing, he'd learned for you much earlier.

It appeared you two were the first ones ready, though you could hear sounds coming from down the hallway, indicating that the rest of the team was at least awake. The early morning sunlight was streaming in through the large windows, reminding you why you'd chosen this place. It hit Aaron just perfectly, creating a halo around him.

You reach out drawing him closer to you by his tie, intent on saying good morning properly. He looks back towards the hallway, before allowing you to pull him down to meet your lips. He's slow and methodical, kissing you just so, before his tongue darts out to lick your lips, prompting you to open your mouth to him. Your hands are still clutched onto his tie and his hands run up your legs, your thighs, and your waist. He can feel your legs instinctively start to wrap around him, the heel of your stiletto digging into the back of his thighs. You let go of his tie to wrap your arms around his neck, drawing him in even closer as he releases you with a gasp. You barely have a second to draw a breath before he returns, the two of you lost in your own world.

Only the insistent clearing of a throat accompanied by Emily's claps are enough to break you apart. You turn to see Rossi, Derek, and Emily standing at the edge of the kitchen. Rossi appears unbothered, Derek seems embarrassed, and Emily is exuberantly thrilled as she congratulates you for getting a morning makeout session in, before stealing your coffee. You and Aaron quickly adjust yourselves, however you're glad to note that he appears mostly unaffected as well. Life was far too short to be embarrassed by having your coworkers (who were staying in your home) catch you kissing your boyfriend.

To be honest, it was probably good for Emily to see this on occasion. She'd been convinced that Aaron was, in her words, the human equivalent of vanilla pudding. She figured that between both of your lack of a wide range of sexual partners, that the two of you only fucked in missionary. She couldn't be further from the truth, however you didn't really care to clear up her misconceptions. Not everyone needed to be bound up and choked to the brink of death in order to feel something.

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