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#spectacular writing reblogs
mediocre--writing · 2 years
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Chapters: 17/17 Fandom: Captain America - All Media Types, Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s), James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers/Original Female Character(s) Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Original Characters, Tony Stark, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Jarvis (Iron Man movies), Bruce Banner, Original Female Character(s) Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Artificial Intelligence, Technology, Friendship, Fluff and Angst, Slow Burn, Character Development, Existential Angst, Polyamory, Bisexual Character Summary:
Stark seems to start at the comparison, glaring suspiciously at the intelligence. “My name is one thing, but how the hell do you even know about JARVIS?” When Stark glares at a nearby camera incredulously (he worked on those security measures for a WEEK), JARVIS is swift to explain the situation. “I’m afraid our database has been hacked, sir.” The polite AI announces sheepishly. “The curious newcomer seems benign, however.” “It’s a pleasure to meet you, JARVIS.” AIVA pipes up, still processing easily accessible files, while Stark cusses out her coding. She is sure to skip all the pictures after scanning a couple of unfortunate personal photos that are most certainly not meant for the public. “The pleasure is mine, AIVA.” Exasperated, Tony throws his hands in the air. “They’re flirting! Stop that! Stop it! She’s probably got enough malware to contaminate each device separately.” “She?” Barnes gives the genius a curious look, he’s never considered the AI to be a person, much less of a certain gender, even if it’s voice is quite feminine. “What? Can’t you see that her synthetic feminine wiles have clearly messed with poor JARVIS here?”
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kingdom-dance · 4 months
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Hi hello I can’t stop thinking about my OTP
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nerdycacti · 2 years
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C. J. Samson's 'Revelation' thoughts post
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Stripping Away Our Armor
Din Djarin x fem!reader (no use of y/n)
Word count- 5.6k
Prompt/Summary- “Who did this to you?” / You are an informant for the Mandalorian, and secret, unspoken feelings start to blossom between you. But how does he react when he comes by one night and you’re hurt?
Warnings- smut (18+ only!), sex worker reader (we respect sex workers in this house), oral (m receiving), soft romantic sex, praise kink, mutual pining, kind of forbidden romance, hurt/comfort, protective!Din, Din likes cheesy jokes, allusion to violence (nothing excessive), injured reader (nothing super descriptive), minor character death, slight grumpy/sunshine vibes
Notes- Surprise @misspearly1 I’m your Pedro gift exchange writer!!! 💖 I’ve had fun being a sneaky anon and writing this for you!!! I’m sorry this is a little late but I hope you enjoy this!! And thank you @pedrostories for organizing this event!!!
Reblogs/asks/follows are highly appreciated! 💖
@flightlessangelwings-updates is my update blog so feel free to follow that too and turn on post notifications to stay up to date on when I post!
Graphic made by me (I love the Star Wars vibe of this so much!!)
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Colorful lights flickered to the beat of the dance music in the club as the Mandalorian walked through the crowd. All types of characters surrounded him: from the young and eager to see the spectacular around them to those who tried to blend in while on the run. Men crowded around the small tables and threw credits and sleazy looks at the dancers. Women with barely anything on their bodies sauntered by carrying trays of drinks. Some gave him a flirty glance, but most recognized him and left him alone. 
There was only ever one person who he saw at the club.
“She’s not here right now, Mando,” one of the other girls, Sonya, set her tray down at the bar and addressed him as he approached. She gave him a subtle flirty glance before she flagged the bartender and gave him a drink order for her table. 
“What happened?” he replied, his voice masking the concern that laid below.
Sonya shrugged, “I think she’s on a personal visit to a vip client. You’re welcome to wait for her,” she gathered fresh glasses and filled them as she spoke, “I’ll let her know you’re here when she gets back. But it might be late,” she eyed the Mandalorian up and down and her done dropped as she smirked, “I can always keep you company in the meantime,” she traced her finger along the beskar on his arm. She knew that the Mandalorian only ever asked for you, yet she couldn’t help but grasp the opportunity while she had it.
Mando gently moved his arm away from her reach, “I’ll wait for her,” he stated plainly yet without malice.
Her expression dropped as she let out a heavy exhale, “Suit yourself.” Sonya knew it was a long shot, yet she wasn’t immune to the beskar-clad man’s effortless charm. But she took his rejection with dignity as she turned and walked away. 
The Mandalorian turned to face the crowd and leaned against the bar. Keeping on high alert at all times, he scanned the crowd and studied the faces he saw. There were some he knew he recognized from bounty pucks, but they weren’t his concern at the moment. He had a higher paying target he was after, and he needed your help to find him.
This arrangement started many months ago when Mando first came into the club to look for a target. Most everyone else who was there at the time was too scared or too intimidated by him. Except for you. You took him into the back and gave him all the information he needed… and then you gave him a taste of your services.
From then, he was drawn back to you time and time again. Mando refused to admit he was addicted to you. But there were times that he looked more forward to the time he spent with you than the information you provided. And once you were behind closed doors, the facade of the toughness you kept up melted away to reveal a kind, good person. And that only made Mando more mesmerized by you. 
It was something he understood fully: keep your emotions out of your line of work. He did the same. Yet, when the two of you were alone together, the Mandalorian felt like you were the only person in the galaxy that really saw the true him. And the way your tough exterior faded away as your face relaxed and your smile lit up the room told him that you trusted him too. You were even the one person to actually make him laugh too, and it felt so good to Mando to let his guard down. 
As he stood at the bar and waited for you, Mando couldn’t help but drift back to the day the two of you met… 
*
“I’m looking for someone,” the Mandalorian asked the bartender as he set the bounty puck down, “He been by here?”
The bartender just huffed and turned to serve others at the far end of the bar without even glancing at the holo image.
Mando let out a heavy sigh as he turned around and faced the crowd. Most danced to the pulsing music and didn’t even give him a second glance. Some scurried out of his way, but he paid them no mind. 
The target had to be here somewhere…
“Need something, Mandalorian?” a sultry voice called his attention, “Perhaps I can… be of service…” your tone dropped as you bat your eyes flirtatiously and shimmied your shoulder subtly. 
Mando looked you up and down and his posture stiffened; you were captivating. Even as a hardened bounty hunter, Mando couldn’t help but notice the way your tiny outfit sparkled right at your breasts to draw men’s eyes. His fists tightened as he fought to keep his composure, “This man… Supposed to be a regular here…”
Just as Mando was about to activate the holo image, you covered it, “Not out here,” your eyes narrowed as you leaned in, “Follow me…” 
The Mandalorian wasn’t sure why but he felt a pull as you slid your hand in his gloved one and took him back to one of the private rooms. And that’s when it happened: the hardened exterior faded away the moment the door was closed and the sultry expression morphed into a genuinely bright smile. 
“Man it smells like upbabe in here…” you sighed in exasperation once you and the Mandalorian were alone.
He stood silent, the slight tilt of his helmet was the only movement as you felt his gaze heavy on you.
You rolled your eyes playfully, “You’re supposed to say ‘what’s upbabe’ and then I say ‘not much what’s up with you!’”
The Mandalorian was caught off guard by your joke once our tough exterior melted away. He stared at you for several moments before he couldn’t help but let out a soft laugh- the first time he did that in a very long time…
“Mando…?” 
Your voice broke him out of his thoughts, and he was brought back to the present where you stood before him. You looked as radiant as ever, and Mando couldn’t help the wave of relief that washed over him at seeing you were alright.
“Hey,” he replied.
“Here for the usual?” you asked coyly. When he nodded in response, you slid your hand in his gloved one and your tone dropped seductively, “Follow me.”
He welcomed that familiar touch… that familiar routine. 
Once the two of you were alone in one of the private rooms, you placed a hand on Mando’s chest and gently guided him backwards. His visor never left you as he allowed you to lead him: something he didn’t let anyone else do. He couldn’t explain it, but there was something different about you. The Mandalorian didn’t trust easily, but he trusted you. 
All the breath left his body as Mando landed on the chair behind him. But he wasn’t sure if it was the landing that knocked the breath out of his chest or if it was the way you looked at him with a fire behind your eyes. Mando’s knees instantly parted to allow you to settle in between his legs, and neither of you broke eye contact as you slowly dropped to your knees on the floor before him.
Mando breathed your name as he reached out and cupped your chin. Your hands landed on his inner thighs just above the plates of beskar on his legs and you gave his flesh a firm squeeze. But just as Mando tried to reach for you and touch you more, eager to make you feel as good as you always made him feel, you stopped him. 
“Let me, Mando,” you whispered as you ran your hands along his thighs and fiddled with the seam at the center of his pants, “I want to take care of you today.”
He couldn’t help but groan as his cock hardened at the thought of what you had planned. Mando watched as you freed his cock from the confines of his pants, and his hands balled into fists when you licked your lips involuntarily. You glanced up at him for a moment before you settled yourself and wrapped your hand around his length.
You worked slowly at first, raising and lowering your hand along Mando’s cock. You watched with eagerness as he hardened more and more with his pump of your fist until he was fully erect before you. A soft whimper escaped your lips as you shifted your position to rub your thighs together for some friction that you suddenly desperately needed. 
Before Mando could address your action, though, you leaned forward and wrapped your lips around the tip of his cock, your tongue lapping at the sensitive head as you did so. He growled as his hands landed on your shoulders as you lowered your head down his shaft, taking as much of him into your mouth as you could.
“Fuck,” Mando hissed as the warmth of your mouth engulfed him, “So good mesh’la…” the praise dripped from his lips in a low tone before he could help it.
You hummed around his cock as you hollowed out your cheeks and sucked him off as hard as you could, knowing exactly what he liked. Raising your head back up, you popped off his cock to instead lick at the salty sweet skin there. You nibbled gently at the head before you ran your tongue flat down the shaft.
Mando groaned your name as you made your way back up his length, your tongue hitting every vein and sensitive spot along the way. Before you took him into your mouth again, you paused and looked up at him and Mando swore the universe froze for a moment. You looked so tantalizing as you looked at him with a desperate fire in your eyes, a trail of spit still connected the two of you.
“You look so fucking beautiful like this,” he sighed heavily.
Without replying, you took Mando’s cock into your mouth again and swallowed as much of it as you could. This time, you had a specific intention in mind, and you weren’t going to stop until you got what you wanted. Mando growled as your warmth became his whole world once more as you bobbed up and down on his cock.
“Fuck… Cyar’ika… I’m…” was all he managed to get out between a string of curses in Mando’a before he exploded in your mouth.
You never let up, even as Mando’s cum filled your throat. You kept going, working and sucking his cock as he came hard into your mouth. And you greedily lapped up and swallowed every last drop, not wanting even one bit to go to waste. You kept going until Mando grabbed onto your scalp and pulled you off of him when he was completely spent.
The two of you stayed in a heavy silence for several moments. Both of you just panted as you both caught your breath, and even though you didn’t see his face, you felt the intensity of his gaze behind the helmet. It sent a fresh wave of need through you and you couldn’t help but moan as you suddenly became aware of how tightly he held you.
In a rush, Mando pounced off the chair and crashed your bodies to the floor. Normally, he preferred to fuck you in a bed, or at least a table, but there was something about you today that filled him with need. He couldn’t wait. He had to feel you, hold you… taste you…
“I need you, sweetheart,” Mando growled as he covered your body with his own and his hands roamed all over you. 
All the air was suddenly forced out of your chest as you hit the floor hard. Too wrapped up in the euphoria of having the Mandalorian on top of you, his hands roaming all over your figure, you almost forgot about why you didn’t allow him to touch you for a moment. But you were painfully reminded when his large hand grabbed your waist and pulled you close against him.
You cried out in pain and all the ecstasy of Mando’s touch completely vanished.
Right away, Mando pulled off of you and sat up on his knees, “What is it?” he asked in concern as his hand hovered over you, “What’s wrong?”
You were not going to shed tears in front of him. You were determined not to show any sign of pain or vulnerability. But the pain in your side screamed at you until you could barely hear anything else. It wasn’t until Mando said your name again that you opened your eyes and looked at him. And even though you didn’t see an inch of skin on him, you could tell he was concerned just from the way he held himself in front of you, his chest puffed up and his shoulders tense. 
“It’s…” you let out a deep breath as you steadied yourself, “It’s nothing,” you tried your best to hide your pain as you scooted away from him slightly, “I’m alright. Just hit the ground a little too hard…”
“It’s not nothing,” Mando’s tone turned serious as he inched forward to stay in your proximity, “Let me see.”
“N-no…” you tried to protest.
“Cyare…” His tone was soft yet it left no room for argument, and the Mandalorian moved too fast for you to block anyway. That came as no surprise, considering he was the best bounty hunter in the galaxy. What did surprise you, however, was the tenderness and care in his touch as he held your sides and carefully lifted your shirt up.
Mando couldn’t stop the low growl that escaped his lips when he saw the wound on your side. It was fresh, but not bleeding. And a scan with his helmet told him that it wasn’t deep, which provided some relief. He sighed as he looked up at your face and he internally kicked himself for not noticing the slight swelling just below your eye before now.
“What happened?” Mando couldn’t help the anger in his voice, though it wasn’t directed at you, “Who did this to you?” he tenderly cupped your face with both hands. When you stayed silent as you looked into his visor with sad eyes, he added softly, “Tell me.”
You let out a heavy breath as you caved, “Shaun…” your voice was hushed as your gaze dropped to the ground, “Shaun Deggs.” All the light that Mando admired in your eyes was gone, and the normally bright smile that drew him back time and time again was clouded over with the tears that you fought back. 
Mando knew the name: it was the target he came to ask you about. His blood boiled as he thought about all the ways he would make him pay for hurting you. You, who was his one light in a dark world. You who was the only person he looked forward to seeing. You, who Mando… cared a lot for. 
He let out a low growl as his grip tensed.
Feeling the intensity of his emotions, you filled the tense silence, “He’s been a regular at the club for some time… deep pockets. He gets himself into trouble with gambling though,” you rambled, “I don’t know how, but somehow he found out I was working with you…” you sighed wearily, “He didn’t like that…” your voice trailed off as you let the Mandalorian piece together what happened.
Mando never felt a rage like this before; he never felt the need to protect someone so greatly like this. At that moment, it didn’t matter that Shaun was worth more alive than dead. He was going to pay for what he did to you with his life. He was going to pay for taking away the light in your eyes.
“Where can I find him?”
*
“No, no, no… P-please…” Shaun begged as he crawled on the floor. Bruises erupted all over his skin as cuts bled and he was sure he had at least three broken bones.
Hovering over him was the imitating figure of the Mandalorian. Blade in hand, he leaned over and smacked him across the face once more as he grumbled lowly. Never before had the Mandalorian felt a rage like this, and with every smack to this low life, he saw your face flash before him. Mando wondered if you looked like this when Shaun paid you a visit, if you were this scared. And he wasn’t there to protect you…
“Tell Gar I promise I’ll pay him back,” Shaun’s voice cracked as his body weakened, “Just don’t kill me please… I’m worth more alive, Mando.”
“I don’t care,” Mando growled, “You hurt someone… Important to me,” he spoke your name, “You remember her?”
Shaun bit his lip and nodded as he whimpered, “I-I’m sorry… I won’t go near her ever again. I swear!”
“I know you won’t…” 
The scream Shaun let out echoed in the room. 
*
You let out a heavy sigh as you ran your hands across your face. It was late into the night, and Mando made you promise to stay at your place until he got back after he walked you home and bandaged your injuries. He barely spoke while he carefully set the bacta patches on the gashes in your skin, but you felt the tension there without the words needed. Even through the layers of amor, you felt his anger radiate and you saw the tension in his arms and shoulders. You had never seen him like this before, and it made your mind spin.
Ever since you first laid eyes on the Mandalorian, there was something that drew you to him. Instead of being scared of him, you felt safe in his presence, and he was the one person you felt like you could let your guard down around. The routine came easily for the two of you: he would come by the club for information on a target, and you would take him to a back room and give him what he needed… and then some. Fully expecting him to be rough with you, it came as a pleasant surprise when Mando was so tender with his touches and he handled you so gently.
Feelings weren’t a luxury you could afford in this life, though. And you knew being a Mandalorian, he couldn’t let himself get too close either. So you kept your true feelings buried deep down, and you were grateful for the time you got with him. It caught you completely off guard though when Mando went into a rage once he saw you were hurt.
“That has to mean something, right?” you whispered to yourself as you clutched the small vibroblade Mando handed you, not wanting to leave you unarmed. There were two things you knew about the Mandalorian and his culture: the helmet never came off, and weapons were as important as air. 
You bit your lip and held the weapon close to yourself as you heard his words to you in your head: “Stay here. Keep this close. I’ll be back as soon as I can.”
But you were jolted from your thoughts by a knock at your door. A specific, rhythmic knock. Your face lit up as you set the blade down on the table and jumped for the door. When you opened it, the familiar figure of the Mandalorian greeted you on the other side and your shoulders dropped with a heavy exhale of relief. 
“Mando…” you breathed.
He cupped your face as his heart fluttered in his chest at the sight of your smile, “You’re safe now.”
Glancing down, you noticed a small splash of blood on his beskar. Your eyes went wide as you realized what his words meant, and the way he held your face confirmed your suspicions. You grabbed onto the fabric around his armor and dragged him inside without another word. Emotions ran high as he locked the door behind him and gladly followed your lead.
“Mesh’la,” Mando murmured as he leaned forward and rested his forehead on yours. His hands lightly trailed down your face so that he caressed your jaw on both sides as he exhaled deeply.
“Mando,” you repeated, too lost in a whirlwind of emotions to form any other words. What he did for you was… 
“Din.”
You blinked your eyes open, not even aware you had closed them, “Is that…?”
His hands trailed down your sides so that they rested on your hips, though he was still careful of your wounds, “Yes.”
Tears of happiness filled your eyes as you smiled brightly, “Din…” you echoed his name.
Din groaned at the sound of his name in your voice. “Close your eyes,” his tone was soft as one hand came up and cupped your jaw, “Trust me.”
“I do trust you.” A soft moan escaped your lips as you obliged without a second thought. You trusted the Mandalorian… Din. And you were sure he trusted you too. From the way he reacted when you were hurt, to him leaving one of his weapons with you, to killing a target that would have brought him a higher payout if he had been alive. There had to be something there.
When your world went black, you felt the hand come off your hip before a soft hiss echoed in the room. Your breath caught in your chest as you felt his breath on the skin on your face. He murmured your name as his fingers caressed your jaw before the gap between your faces closed.
This was the first time he kissed you; every time before, the hamlet always stayed on. And kissing Din was even better than you had imagined. Without words, his kiss conveyed all the unspoken emotions, and when his tongue touched yours, everything bubbled over into an explosion of affections. 
Din moaned into your mouth as his hand tightened on your face and he kissed you deeper. Your lips parted as you tilted your head and surrendered to him completely. The taste of him sent a wave of heat through your body, and your core fired up at the way his tongue tangled with yours. 
Keeping your eyes closed, you grabbed onto his shoulders and dragged him back towards your bedroom. Nerves tingled against your skin as vaguely you realized this was the first time you took him back into your private, personal room. But, you felt safe with him, you trusted him, and you wanted him there.
Din broke away from the kiss when he crossed the threshold into your room, and he lowered his helmet only to have his hands free to hold you. His arms wrapped around you carefully as Din savored the lingering taste of you on his tongue. He let out a contented sigh as your warmth wrapped around his heart, and he had you safe and sound in his embrace.
But, you had other plans in mind, and after you stayed in his arms for a moment, you lifted your head and started to yank at the pieces of his beskar. A soft laugh escaped Din’s lips as he let you strip him, and his heart fluttered as he watched how expertly and with such care you took off his armor: a gesture he allowed to you and you alone.
Once the outermost layer was off, and only fabric adorned his body, Din decided it was your turn. As you tried to rip off his shirt, he tenderly took your hands and lowered them, “Let me, love.”
Your eyes scanned his helmet, as if you desperately tried to read his expression though the beskar. 
“Let me take care of you, tonight,” he clarified in a soft voice, echoing your own words as he delicately stripped you of your clothing piece by piece before he ripped off his own clothes.
As hot as you felt, a chill still ran up your spine as the fresh air hit your skin as you allowed Din to strip you. He had seen you naked many times before, yet this time felt different. You were in your home, no music from the club played in the background, and he took his time with you. Times before, he seemed to be in a rush, or he was still riding the adrenaline from a bounty hunt, or you were on a timer.
This time, though, you both had all the time in the galaxy.
That same vulnerability was reflected in Din’s helmet; he had never before been stripped completely. Always needed to keep his guard up, he usually left most of his armor and clothing on, until now. But, just as you felt safe with him, that same security and trust beat in Din’s heart. And it fluttered in his chest as you gasped softly and your eyes poured over every inch of his skin, and a rush of heat pulsed through his veins at the wanton look of desire in your eyes. The way you licked your lips involuntarily made his cock twitch with need. 
Din scanned you over once you were both bare, and a fresh pulse of anger flooded his system as he saw the bacta patches on your skin. Carefully, he ghosted his fingers across the wounds, “I’m sorry I wasn’t there,” his voice was nothing more than a whisper.
Tears filled the corners of your eyes as you looked into his visor and this time you had no doubts what his expression looked like, “It’s not your responsibility, Din.”
His hand trailed up your body, pausing as he tickled the skin of your breasts and for a moment Din really soaked in how beautiful you were. When his hand reached your face, he wiped away the tear that threatened to fall from your eye, “Yes it is,” he said plainly yet with firm conviction. 
“Din?”
He let out a low growl as he took control and guided you back to your bed. Need guided his movements, yet Din was still careful not to hurt you as he lowered you onto your bed so that you laid on your back. Wide eyes looked up at him, nothing on his body but his helmet, and you gasped as you noticed how hard he was.
“Please Din,” you pleaded, “I need you…” You felt a rush of wetness in your pussy as he climbed over you without hesitation.
Din hovered over you as he rocked his cock along your folds, yet he was still careful not to hurt you or brush against your injuries. He groaned as he felt how wet you were, and his cock twitched between your bodies. Your name escaped his lips in a prayer as he shifted himself to caress your breast with one hand while staying over your body.
The moan you let out went right to his cock, and Din brushed across your nipple with his calloused fingers. Your breast was so warm and soft under his grip, and every time you cried out in pleasure, he inched him closer to losing control. But, Din fought to keep his composure. This wasn’t like times before. This wasn’t a desperate need for release. This was… something more.
“Fuck me,” you breathed, “Din…” you bucked your hips against his body, grinding yourself against him.
“Fuck…” he groaned as he felt your wetness on his length, “So beautiful… You’re so beautiful.”
You opened your eyes as you took in the sight before you. You couldn’t help the way your eyes roamed down to his chest as Din stayed overtop of you. It was then you noticed the way his arms strained on either side of you, his muscles tight and tense as he held himself back for fear of hurting you. But, the way he cared only made you more desperate, and this time it was your turn to caress his face.
Reaching up, you cupped his helmet, mirroring the way he touched you earlier, “I’m ok, Din,” you reassured him, “I’m ok because of you,” he heard the emotions in your voice as the room warmed, “You won’t hurt me. I want you… Need you…” you pleaded. 
He moaned your name as he dipped his head down and touched his helmeted forehead to yours once more, “I…”
Din interrupted himself when he slowly pushed into you, still careful not to hurt you as he filled you with his cock inch by inch. You broke the connection from his forehead as you dropped your head onto the pillow as you felt the familiar stretch. Instead of fucking you quickly, though, Din pushed into your slowly, taking his time until he bottomed out inside of you.
“So good… Feels so good…”
Neither of you were sure who spoke those words. Perhaps it was both of you overlapping at the same time.
“Din… Move please…” you pleaded as you ran your hand along his back before you slipped it under his helmet. Soft, thick hair met your hand at the nape of Din’s neck and you couldn’t help but give it a gentle tug.
Unable to deny you, Din groaned as he rocked back and slowly thrust forward again, filling you to the brim. You cried out in pleasure as he fucked you at a slow and steady pace. There was no rush, no need to pound into you. All you both wanted was to feel the other, and you clung to his shoulders as his cock hit that sweet spot inside you over and over again.
Din wasn’t just fucking you this time. He was making love to you. And it was everything you ever thought it would be. Tears filled the corners of your eyes again, but they weren’t tears of sorrow. They were tears of joy, tears of elation, tears of emotions. A string of curses and praises flowed from both your lips as your warmth engulfed Din over and over again as he rocked into you.
“Fuck… Din… Yes…” you moaned as you dug your nails into his skin and wrapped your leg around him, desperate to keep him close, “You’re gonna make me cum…”
He growled as he fought off his own climax, “Show me how beautiful you look when you cum on my cock, cyare.” Din snaked a hand between your bodies and rubbed at your clit as he sped up his thrusts. 
Without the music of the club to fill the room, Din was able to hear the wet sounds of your pussy with every thrust. And it turned him on unlike anything else before. He growled softly as the need to send you over the edge fully overwhelmed him. At that moment, nothing else in the galaxy mattered: only you. 
“Din…” you cried out as he pushed you over the edge. Your entire body trembled as you came hard, your inner muscles squeezing his cock as you rode out your climax. 
“Fuck,” Din growled your name as your orgasm triggered his own as he came deep inside you, spilling himself into your body and filling you up even more. 
Just as Din was about to collapse onto your body, he stopped himself. The ecstasy of his climax took over all brain function for a moment. But, he caught himself and instead carefully pulled out of you and landed on your bed beside you. Right away, you rolled over and laid your head on his chest as you wrapped an arm around his waist. Together, the two of you came down from your highs, lost in the other’s arms.
Your eyes stayed closed as you peppered soft kisses on Din’s chest and listened to the pounding of his heartbeat. A warm smile lit up your face as you felt his hands gently stroke your back comfortingly, and you were aware of how careful he was to avoid any of your injuries. 
“Din…” you waited for him to hum in response, “Thank you,” you whispered.
His breath hitched in his throat, “You never have to thank me, mesh’la,” Din replied, “I’ll always keep you safe.”
You trembled as his words went right to your heart. You stayed in the comfortable silence for several moments before you spoke again, “Hey Din…” your voice wavered as you traced random patterns on his bare chest. You felt him tighten his grip on you and you summoned the courage to ask, “Do you think love is in the stars for either of us? Do you think our lives would allow that?”
Din was silent for a time, and you knew he was choosing his words; he knew exactly what you meant by asking that, “Probably not,” he answered honestly, “But,” he interrupted your heavy sigh, “That doesn’t stop me… or you…” You’re stronger than you know…
He felt the way your entire body relaxed in his grip and he knew you understood the meaning behind his words. The truth was, he would do anything to protect you, to keep you safe. It didn’t matter who it was, Din wouldn’t hesitate to plunge his vibroblade into the chest of anyone who would dare harm you…  
As you laid in his arms, Din lifted his helmet for the second time that night and placed a soft kiss on the top of your head. The contented sigh you let out told him you were still awake, and you felt it. He smiled against your scalp, another gesture he saved only for you, before he lowered the helmet and settled in your bed.
When the sun rose, the two of you could face what lay ahead. But for now Din just savored the feeling of your body safe and warm in his arms. And while the words themselves remained unspoken, the feelings were there. And he was sure you heard them loud and clear: 
I love you, cyar’ika…  
2K notes · View notes
agentstarkid · 5 months
Text
SZÍVEM ✦ DR3
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"In the symphony of emotions, "Szívem" resonates as a melody of love and tenderness. This Hungarian term translates to "(you are) my heart" in English and carries a depth of emotion within the context of love. Beyond a mere anatomical reference, "szívem" embodies a profound and sentimental connection. It's a tender expression, encapsulating the heart's vulnerability and openness in love. When someone refers to another as "szívem," it reflects an intimate bond, signifying that their heart beats in unison with the other. It signifies a poetic intertwining of hearts, acknowledging that love is not just a fleeting emotion but a permanent residence within one's very essence. In the language of love, "szívem" conveys a sentiment that goes beyond words, expressing a deep, intrinsic connection and an acknowledgment of shared emotions at the core of a meaningful relationship."
✦ pairing: daniel ricciardo x famous!latina!reader
✦ type: social media au
✦ fc: becky g
✦ warnings: female!reader, fluff, mentions of sexual acts, age gap, language, internet meanies, horniness lol.
✦ pit wall live: Holii loves! I'm so sorry for the wait but so much has happened since I posted chapter 3, the main problem was that my laptop's battery died and I had to buy a new one and that took me weeks 😢 but I came back with a new ace up my sleeve...I KNOW HOW TO MAKE GIFS NOW!!! 🤩 (well, kind of lol). Also, I'd like to give a massive shoutout to Tally (@onceuponaoneshotfanfic) for being my personal English-er and always being an angel, letting me bounce on her all my ideas and all my constant ramblings 😝💖 — go and check out her fics, they are masterpieces! PLEASE don't forget to feed this fic monster with reblogs and/or comments! Enjoy this extra sweet chapter! 😘
─── The Joker & The Queen (Masterlist)
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JANUARY 1, 2021
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JANUARY 4 - 7, 2021
yourinstagram has added to their story!
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danielricciardo has added to their story!
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JANUARY 15, 2021
yourinstagram
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♡ liked by rubendias, mclaren, danielricciardo and 6,452,325 others
yourinstagram SURPRISE!!! Excited to share that my studio album 'Chrysalis' is taking flight tonight at midnight! 🦋✨ To put it plainly, for the first time in my life, I just couldn’t stop writing songs. To try and put it more poetically, this album embodies a journey of love, growth, and the beautiful chaos in between. This couldn't have been possible without my muse, the one who untangled all the strings around my wings that were tied. Now, I remember what it feels like to fly ❤️
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user i would like to apologize now for the person i will become after this album comes out
danielricciardo I'm glad to witness your journey. You're the one soaring, and I'm here cheering you on from the ground. Keep reaching new heights, love ❤️
yourinstagram You might be cheering from the ground, but your love has been the wind beneath my wings 🦋❤️ Grateful for your unwavering support 🥰
lilymhe talented, brilliant, incredible, amazing, show stopping, spectacular, never the same, totally unique, completely not ever been done before, unafraid to reference or not reference
user3 "I love you so much and so you can imagine how much, count all the stars and add one more" <- "Tanto" is such a romantic song 😭
user4 i wish i could gatekeep this forever…
user5 we, the dan-y/n nation, claim butterflies as one of our anthems!
userA ‘Enchanted’ will forever be our #1 anthem, but ‘Butterflies’ is #2 🦋
user6 "boys will be boys but girls will be women" you should be damn sure i'm gonna blast that song in the office 24/7
user7 if the word ‘aesthetic’ was an album:
user8 what's everyone's chrysalis holy trinity!?
userA Butterflies, Cowboy Like Me, Golden Hour userB Peace, Lightweight & Little Did I Know — I'm a sucker for songs where the singer shows vulnerability userC userB i did tear up a little bit with Peace ngl — "Give you my wild, give you a CHILD"!?!? SCREAMING!!!! userD is2g miss yourinstagram if you come out announcing a baby ricciardo after this i'm gonna send you all my hospital and funeral expenses 🫠
user9 Mom help my emotional support global superstar is fucking with me again
userA AHDHERKR YEAH userB me every single day, this woman lives to terrorize me lmaoo userC she's insane and i just deal with it tbh I mean releasing a whole album after releasing another one not even 6 months ago?! that's NUTS!
user10 good morning to "With your boots beneath my bed, forever is the sweetest con" and "You set my world on fire and I know, I know everything's gonna be alright" and "little did I know you would be the one I confide in...Little did I know it was you before I ever decided" and "Never knew I could laugh 'til I couldn't breathe, never thought I could show someone all of me, things are better than they've ever been" and "I watch superman fly away, you've got a busy day today. Go save the world I'll be around" and "My name is whatever you decide and I'm just gonna call you mine. I'm insane, but I'm your baby" and "My heartbeat is a sail, your heartbeat is a wave" and "The way you look at me, I'm starting to believe that I could call you mine and you'd still let me shine" good morning to daniel ricciardo for the masterpiece he inspired.
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FEBRUARY 4, 2021
danielricciardo
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♡ liked by yourinstagram, georgerussell63, landonorris and 9,435 others
danielricciardo To the woman who makes every day brighter and my heart fuller... Happy anniversary, Chip ❤️ Here's to the love that grows stronger with each passing day.
View all 5,201 comments
yourinstagram One year down, forever to go! ❤️ Let's continue reaching for the stars together 😘
georgerussell63 Happy anniversary, lovebirds!
natalie_pinkham Happy anniversary to the dynamic duo! 🌟 Here's to many more years of joy and laughter! 🥂❤️
user Happy anniversary to the power couple that leaves our hearts racing 🏁❤️
kymillman Cheers to the love that keeps burning rubber and breaking records! Happy anniversary, Daniel and Y/N!
yourmomsinstagram Love you and miss you both ❤️❤️
userA not the queen mother only commenting on dan's posts 😂 yourinstagram userA don't be fooled by "both", she only means him. He's her favorite child now 🫡 yourmomsinstagram yourinstagram no seas celosa!! 🤨😅
user2 the difference between their captions speaks so loud lmao
userA maybe daniel is realizing that what he needs is a woman by his side, not a girl. userB uh I think you misspelled it, you meant he doesn't need a SLUT*
martingarrix Who would've thought that when I introduced these two, I'd be creating a masterpiece! 🤷‍♂️ Happy anniversary, you crazy kids!
danielricciardo Haha Garrix, the man of many talents! Thanks for playing Cupid that night, mate!
ausgp POWER COUPLE GOALS!! 😭
scottyjames31 Who knew Daniel's biggest accomplishment would be convincing Y/N to love his terrible jokes? Love sure is weird! Congrats mates! 🎉
danielricciardo I'm sure you can relate mate, right chloestroll? chloestroll all I can say is that yourinstagram and I desperately need a girl's trip yourinstagram i'm already packing my bags babe, see ya at the airport chloestroll danielricciardo 💔 scottyjames31 💔 x2
user3 Congrats! Just feels like male celebrities aren't even trying to find girlfriends over 25 anymore. Well good luck and God bless
user4 Their age difference is so gross 🤢
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yourinstagram
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♡ liked by danielricciardo, drewbarrymore, jessicaalba and 6,107,435 others
yourinstagram Every love story has a beginning, and ours started with a smile. Fast forward, it's been 365 days, countless memories, wild adventures, and a heart full of unwavering love, and it feels like we've only just begun. Thank you for being my constant, my greatest love, and my best friend. Happy anniversary, Danielito! Here's to the countless sunsets, slow-dancing in the kitchen and the beautiful journey of growing together.
I love you ❤️
I'll always feel enchanted to have met you. ✨🃏
View all 17,201 comments
user she loves romcoms so much she’s now in one of her own 🥰
user2 Universe conspired, hearts collided, and now they're inseparable! ❤️
danielricciardo it's been a journey I wouldn't trade for anything, amor 🥰
martingarrix Happy anniversary to the dynamic duo I proudly orchestrated! 😎 As the undisputed mastermind behind this love story, I must say, you're welcome!
itsvittoriasousa uh nope, this was a joint effort 🤨 this wouldn't have happened if we didn't drag her to that party when all she wanted to do was to stay at home and watch re-runs of friends all night 🤦🏻‍♀️ iamdannaschwarz I wouldn't disagree with a pregnant woman if I were you, man 👀 yourinstagram itsvittoriasousa that was a great plan!! but I do prefer this outcome better so, thank you, guys! 😝
corey_wilson Happy anniversary, legends! Watching you two navigate this journey together is pure magic 🌟
zendaya the most attractive couple of all time!! Sorry to reduce you to looks 🤷🏾‍♀️
yourinstagram zendaya if you don't objectify us it doesn't count, babes 💕
user after everything she went through on her past relationships i'm really happy she's found someone who could love her and cherish her how she deserves! 🥹❤️
kristenanniebell Happy anniversary to the couple who defines love and friendship in the most beautiful way! ❤️
selenagomez such genuine souls 💕
user2 they just called me single in too many languages 😭 this video is so adorable! I feel like we are intruding in a sacred moment
userA their song choice is making me cry even more because ‘start of something good’ by daughtry conveys a sense of hope and optimism and the anticipation of a promising journey ahead and it's just perfect for them 😭❤️ userB He kisses her three times when "and all my scars don't seem to matter anymore 'cause they led me here to you" plays and now I'm on the fucking floor sobbing 😭
jvn Don't mind me, I'm just here melting because this is too damn cute 💖
user3 lucky girl, she is not that pretty, nothing special in her beauty
fioamato Happy anniversary, you two lovebirds! 🥂 Can't believe it's been a whole year of watching your love story unfold. Here's to many more chapters filled with laughter and adventures! Love you both! 💖✨ #ThirdWheelingForLife
user4 this looks like a fresh faced teenager with an old geezer. it's weird. Anyways, this relationship is not gonna last
donatella_versache Wishing you both a day as fabulous as you are ❤️
salmahayek Happy anniversary, danielricciardo and yourinstagram. Your journey is a testament to the power of true love. Here's to many more years of happiness! 🍾💖
user5 I’m gonna hug a tree at 90mph
user6 not my heart melting for these two 😭
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MARCH 9, 2021
yourinstagram
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♡ liked by danielricciardo, natalie_pinkham, chloestroll and 7,402,385 others
yourinstagram Giddy up, loves! 🐎✨ Excited to unveil the 'Cowboy Like Me' music video! This marks my directorial debut, and who better to have as the leading cowboy than the hottest man in town 🤤 This song, this video — it's all about him. Get ready for a wild west love story with a dash of cuteness, a sprinkle of sexy, and a whole lot of us. Join the ride! 🤠
View all 21,475 comments
danielricciardo Howdy, need a ride? 😏 You know what they say about a cowboy with a large belt buckle 😏
yourinstagram oh sir, i'm feeling really very altruistic lately and y'know what they say... save a horse, ride a cowboy 🤘🏼😜 btw it's that a pistol in your pocket or are you just happy to see me? 😏 userA hello? 911? 👮🏻‍♂️ right here these two are being horny on main AGAIN 👀👀👀 JAIL TIME!!! 😩 userB I SPAT MY WATER!!! 😳
danielricciardo I had a hog-killin' time filming this 🤠 i'm waiting for my academy's nominations already 😎
user Mami? No. Mami? No. Mami? No. Mami?? 🥵🍑
camila_cabello OMG YES YES YES 🔥🔥🔥
lilyjcollins Always in awe of you 😍
user2 cant wait for y'alls kids to look back on this video in 20 years and be like wow my parents are so fucking cool
chloestroll forever obsessed with you ❤️
michaelitaliano i'm free next time you need an extra, just saying
yourinstagram sure, you can be the rodeo clown. I know you are a natural 😊 user lmaooooo 💀💀💀 it screams sibling energy 😂
user4 THE TAG PLACEMENT I CAN'T 💀💀 MISS Y/N YOU'RE A SAVAGE
user5 He's so proud to be with her!!! No one else has showed this amount of pride — they are both glowing 🤧❤️
lilymhe not a crumb was left 👏🏼 literally ICONIC
user6 He doesn't wreck her plans he helps them happen 😭
user7 she gives off desperate for attention vibes
user is it her or is it you hun? get off of her page
user8 LOOK AT MY MOM AND DAD!! 😭❤️
user9 WE ARE SHAKING MISS L/N
user10 flop flop flop flooooop 🤡
userA she really is so embarrassing lmao userB she needs to put on some fucking clothes because she looks like a slut 🤢
user11 can you imagine creating so much drama wherever you go, can't be able to keep your legs shut for once, leech off of your bf fame to promote your music video and still being the queen of flop 😂
user12 it is criminal how good they both look in this 🥵 when he had his hand lingering on her waist at the bar????? i was about to fucking COMBUST!!
userA what about at the rodeo??? when she runs her hands on the back of his shoulders and winks at him??? 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 userB this whole video is a religious imagery fr userC the little scenes of them in bed and around her room and house??? MADE ME REALIZE THAT I WAS NEVER AS STRAIGHT AS I THOUGHT I WAS 🤯😩
user13 the harries miss her so much 😭 but she looks so happy, she's absolutely glowing and I can't help but feel so happy for her ❤️ I hope he gives her the world because she deserves it so much ❤️🥺
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MARCH 14, 2021
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APRIL 1, 2021
vanityfair
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♡ 3,170 likes
vanityfair When fame meets speed, love takes an exhilarating ride! #Y/NL/N and Formula 1 star Daniel Ricciardo heat up the cover of VF's April issue, sharing their rollercoaster ride of love, the challenges of distance, and electrifying plans that'll leave you wanting more! Their candid insights provide an inspiring portrayal of love amidst fame and busy schedules.
"Love is a beautiful and complex journey, and everyone's story is unique. While I can't speak directly to someone else's personal experiences, for me love has the power to heal and transform," the singer-actress tells VF.
In 2020, they experienced the global quarantine together in Australia, navigated the ups and downs of fame and long-distance relationship, celebrating wins and more.
View all 5,475 comments
yourinstagram Absolutely thrilled for this opportunity and be able to share it with my love. Grateful for each moment and excited for what's to come! ❤️
yourinstagram somebody call the fire department because we are smoking hot 🚒🔥
user 👆🏼 get yourself a woman that can do both 🤭 danielricciardo you lucky mf
[danielricciardo and others liked this]
user2 Who knew quarantine could lead to this much romance? 🥰
user3 Dreaming of falling in love during quarantine like Dan and Y/N. Can't relate, but happy for them! 😂💕
user4 suddenly i can't breath 🥵
user5 FUUUCK SHE'S WEARING HIS INITIAL 😭😭
userA smth smth "I want to wear his initial on a chain around my neck, not because he owns me but 'cause HE REALLY KNOWS ME. Which is more than they can say" userB in my eyes that's a big and subtle "f u" to the haters 🤭 userC UGH WHAT. A. WOMAN. 😩
user6 I can't decide if I wanna be Daniel or if I wanna be Y/N 🤯🥵
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MAY 9, 2021
yourinstagram
📍 Catalunya, España
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♡ liked by rubendias, mclaren, danielricciardo and 6,452,325 others
yourinstagram you make me feel sweet like papaya 🧡
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mclaren Rocking the papaya color like no other 🧡😍
user she slays in every color 🔥
danielricciardo can I have a taste por favor? 👀
user2 #TeamYN forever and always 🧡
user3 her first time on the paddock this year and she ATE 🥰
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MAY 16, 2021
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itsvittoriasousa has added to their story!
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yourinstagram and danielricciardo have added to their stories!
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─── Please don't forget to reblog and/or comment! ♡
154 notes · View notes
juyeonszn · 7 months
Text
POISON IN MY MIND
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PAIRING lee hyunjae x f!reader
WORD COUNT 5.54k
GENRES smut ﹒ some angst (but very little)
WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, ceo/ceo’s son!hyunjae, assistant!reader, power play tbh, hyunjae is an asshole (for what he thinks is good reason), another jacob bae appearance, juyeon is also mentioned, there’s a rain scene bc i love my rain scenes <3, hyunjae is a stupid idiot, making out (aggressively), nipple play, no foreplay lol, unprotected sex, sex on a desk x2 — but one is missionary & one is doggy? style?, overstimulation, degradation, brat taming?, creampie lol, the aftercare is there i promise
SUMMARY who really cared that you supposedly hated your boss?
MORE HELLAURRRRR FAWNTOBER DAY 4!!! im hoping i have no delays with the rest of the fics but idk bc the burnout is starting to kick in….. someone pls help…. it’s bc my brain is making me write more than i planned 😭 anyways! pls reblog if u enjoyed!
PERM TAGLIST @winterchimez @maessseongs @itsbeeble @zzoguri
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“Look at you, rutting against me like a fucking bitch in heat,” Hyunjae growls, lips beside your ear as he pounds into you from behind, your hair wrapped tightly around his fist. “Thought you hated me, sweetheart.”
“I— fuck— I do,” you whine, back arching off of the desk and into his chest. “I hate you s-so goddamn much.”
Okay, let’s rewind for a bit of context.
Truly, you hated Lee Hyunjae. He was such a pretentious prick, always dead set on being right about everything. He couldn’t stand those who he felt were inferior to him, those who he thought were incompetent. If he felt you couldn’t do your job to his standards, he’d fire you on the spot.
Despite not being the CEO of the company himself, he practically carried all of the perks that came with the position. That was only because he was the actual CEO’s son and the future heir to the conglomerate his father owned.
You had the unfortunate pleasure of being his assistant, tied to doing his bidding until your contract with the company timed out. You originally applied for the job for two reasons. The first was due to the fact that you genuinely loved the initial purpose pushed forward by the CEO. He shared a lot of similar ideals with you and had spectacular visions for bettering the business world. The second was because at the time of your application, you wanted to be the CEO’s assistant. And that was what you’d gotten hired for.
It paid more than well enough and it was your dream job. You loved what you did for at least the first year and a half. Until he announced that he’d be retiring within the next couple years and his son would be taking over as a form of practice for being in charge when he inherited the entire conglomerate.
You’d never met him in person before, only hearing the high praises Mr. Lee had for his precious son. So on his first day, you had extremely raised expectations for the male. You dressed your best (not that you didn’t put effort in before) and put on your sweetest personality, wanting to make a good impression on your new boss.
Imagine the disappointment you felt when you realized he was nothing but an entitled asshole.
He made you feel stupid, as if you didn’t know how to do your own job. What started as sitting in on important meetings and going over different documents with Mr. Lee, turned into running errands for Hyunjae and cleaning up his messes. If you weren’t out buying his coffee or grabbing his dry cleaning, you were sorting his paperwork for him and making sure he was prepared for his upcoming conferences, as if he wasn’t capable of doing so himself. You felt like a fucking babysitter rather than an assistant; like an errand boy rather than an employee.
You were so incredibly tired and it had only been four months. A few, tortuous months of you being treated like you hadn’t already given an arm and a leg for this company. Half of you wanted to just throw in the towel, rip up the damn contract right in front of the fucker and walk out of those gold plated double doors for good.
“Just push through, Y/N,” Jacob sighs over the video call. “Your contract ends at the end of the year, and if you still feel like quitting, then that’s that. You don’t have to worry about renewing or trying to reinstate your job.”
You were on your lunch break, holed away in one of the many unused conference rooms on the top floor. Hyunjae was being extra irritating today and if you didn’t speak with a voice of reason, you thought you’d make a drastic decision that would alter the course of your life forever. Whether that was tossing your employee contract in the shredder, or committing premeditated murder, the world may never know. Shout out to Jacob Bae.
“What if I push him out of the floor-to-ceiling window in his office? I could make it look like an accident. Everyone would probably rejoice instead of mourning him, because we would all be so much happier.” You throw the back of your hand over your forehead. Well, that answers that.
“You’re not killing anyone. If you got caught, you wouldn’t look good in a prison jumpsuit. Orange isn’t your color.” Jacob shakes his head, rolling his eyes playfully.
You gasp scandalously, sitting upright to gape at him. “What the hell? Yes, I so would! I would make that prison jumpsuit my bitch—“
Someone clears their throat behind you, causing you to flinch, whipping around in your swivel chair to find the culprit. When it’s none other than Lee Hyunjae staring back at you, you feel like your life has just flashed before your eyes. You wonder just how much of that conversation he heard before making his presence known.
“Um, Cobie, I’m gonna have to call you back…” You don’t allow your friend time to respond, ending the call before he can incriminate you more than you already have.
Hyunjae leans against the doorframe, arms crossed over his absurdly broad chest. Did this guy have to wear the tightest dress shirts possible? Maybe it was time for him to update his wardrobe. You tuck your hair behind your ear, slowly standing up from the chair. His expression is unreadable, not that you ever had it easy when it came to understanding the many faces of Lee Hyunjae.
“Mr. Lee, what— uh— what can I do for you?” You ask with a slight waver in your tone. So much for not incriminating yourself. He purses his lips, taking a step closer to you.
“Juyeon can no longer accompany me on the trip to Tokyo next week. Which means you’re second on the totem pole,” he says simply, loosening his tie. “Better pack your bags, ‘cause I’m not taking no for an answer.”
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This was horrible.
You were mentally cursing Lee Juyeon over and over. Why did he have to back out at the last minute? This was the one part of the job that you couldn’t allow yourself to do. You’d much rather drive in circles around Seoul and grab iced Americanos than be in a completely different country, with no other company aside from Lee Hyunjae himself.
When he gave you your demise, you immediately tried to get out of it. Your excuse was valid; you didn’t have a passport and that’s kind of essential when traveling to another country. But even then, it wasn’t enough to get you out of this predicament. Being the rich, influential man he was, Hyunjae had your passport expedited and sent to your mailbox within a couple days. You gave up after that.
There was nothing he couldn’t do.
Except maybe being tolerable. You think that was most likely his only fault. He could’ve been the complete package had he mastered the art of bedside manner. His father was one of the kindest, selfless men you’d ever met. You were often curious why those same traits didn’t translate to his son. Then again, he had probably been raised as a spoiled brat who got everything his heart desired.
To make matters worse, you had one of those suites with a Jack and Jill bathroom, meaning he could enter yours without difficulty if he wanted. You supposed that was because the rooms were reserved with him and Juyeon in mind. Perhaps the case would be different if you were the first pick for this trip.
You let out a deep exhale, waiting outside of the conference room that Hyunjae was currently in. This was meeting number seven, and the last of the day before you could finally go back to the hotel and relax. You’d be flying back to South Korea the following day on the Lees’ private jet. All of your time in Japan had been spent both sitting in and sitting out of board meetings, so much talk about business plans that you felt dizzy.
All you yearned for was a nice warm bath and some room service, wanting to call it an early night because of your flight in the morning. You were exhausted, eyes growing heavier and heavier the longer Hyunjae sat in that room full of old men that came from bloodlines of money. Even though it was your job to be here, you felt so out of place. There were moments you found yourself contemplating your career path. You were surrounded by people who could just sign a check to get rid of their life problems. That wasn’t you.
Before you can fall down a rabbit hole, the door to the conference room is swinging open and Hyunjae is storming out, some of the other board members calling after him. Your eyes widen and your eyebrows furrow, your body springing up to follow after him. Wearing some flats instead of heels was probably the smartest choice you’d made today, making it less of a struggle to chase after your boss.
“Mr. Lee!” You cup a hand around your mouth, trailing him like a lost puppy to the elevator. It closes before you can get on and you groan, running a hand through your hair frustratedly. As you wait for the next one down, you call the driver so the car is waiting out front. According to the recent weather notification on your phone, it was pouring outside.
The elevator dings when it arrives back at the floor you were on and you hurry to get on, pressing the lobby level aggressively in hopes it would move faster. Even the soothing music playing over the speakers isn’t enough to calm your nerves, picking at your nails as the numbers transition to the corresponding floors you pass. This was one of the numerous occasions you wished your boss wasn’t so impulsive. What did they even say to him in that meeting to cause such a reaction?
The doors open and you’re rushing out, frantically searching for Hyunjae in the lobby. You spot the driver parked under the carport, waiting. Your feet carry you to the car, knocking on the window to get his attention. He rolls it down with a confused look.
“Have you seen Mr. Lee?” You ask, a bit winded by all of the running you’d been doing.
“I thought I saw him walk that way,” he points ahead, though it hardly answers your question. “I didn’t realize you weren’t with him.”
Just fucking peachy. He was making you chase him into the rain now? You needed a pay raise.
Thankfully, it’s a breeze to spot him, since he’s the only person in the crowd without an umbrella. You pinch the bridge of your nose, forcing yourself to walk out into the cold rain, weaving through pedestrians to get to him faster. He’s not much further from you, but you’d rather drag his ass back to the car sooner rather than later, the precipitation seeping through your dress shirt and pants, chilling you to the bone.
“Mr. Lee!”
You reach for his wrist and wrap your fingers around it, yanking slightly to yield his focus. He turns around with hardened features, but they soften just enough for you to notice when he realizes that it’s you. Your lips form a flat line, eyelashes coated with a mixture of mascara and rain water, obscuring your vision.
“I don’t know what happened in there, but I don’t have it in me to ask. Please, can we just go back to the hotel?” You ask almost desperately, teeth beginning to chatter. He frowns, but nods nonetheless, letting you pull him to the safety of the carport— where you’re free from the unrelenting pelts against your body— and into the car.
You don’t say anything the whole drive to the hotel you’re staying at, biting your tongue because you were afraid you might blow up on him over his stupidity and get yourself fired. Your bottom lip quivers and you hug yourself for warmth, the car’s heater failing to bring back the color in your cheeks. In spite of hating nearly everything about him, you thought the one good thing Hyunjae had going for him was his wits. He might’ve been stuck up, but he was smart as hell. Except right now. In your books, he was the biggest idiot in the history of idiots.
The silence continues even after you’ve arrived at your hotel, shadowing you into the elevator and to your respective rooms. You don’t acknowledge him, unlocking your suite and entering to avoid any conversation. The remainder of your energy for the day was used when you were attempting to save him from getting fucking hypothermia.
You stand in the shower until your fingers have pruned, resting your forehead against the frosted glass as the scorching water battered your back, easing the tension in your muscles. While changing into your pajamas, your phone buzzes with a text message.
[9:23pm] mr. lee (DNI): i don’t know if u’ve eaten already, but i ordered a lot of food if u’d like to have some of it.
[9:24pm] mr. lee (DNI): left my bathroom door unlocked so u can just let urself in
Your lips purse as you mull over his offer. It wasn’t exactly an olive branch, but even if it was, you wouldn’t take it as such. You had too much pride for that. Instead you viewed this as him just feeling guilty for having you pursue him in the rain. That was definitely not in your job description. Perhaps he wasn’t as heartless as he made himself out to be, and he just didn’t know how to extend an apology without being awkward about it.
Reluctantly, you give in.
[9:27pm] you: sure. be right there
You slide your feet into your slippers and shuffle through the four doors between the two of you that lead to his suite. It takes everything in you to not visibly react to the difference between your rooms. His is so much more spacious, with enough room for a table and couches, aside from the usual desk. Even he looks expensive, a silk pajama set adorning his body— the first few buttons undone to give you a glimpse of his chest, though it hardly leaves room for the imagination.
Hyunjae sits at the table, various sushi roll platters in front of him. He holds up his chopsticks as he scrolls through his phone mindlessly, glancing up when your slippers shuffle against the floor. He takes in your appearance as quickly as he can without making it obvious, the corner of his lips curling up when he sees the teddy bears on your feet.
“You know, I didn’t think you’d come,” he starts after a few minutes of eating in an awkward quietness. “Not just here, to my room, but on the trip in general. I thought you’d put up a bigger fight to get out of it.”
“It’s part of my job, Mr. Lee.” You say flatly, taking away as much emotion from the statement as you could to avoid getting in an unnecessary argument.
“We’re not at work and it’s outside of working hours, Y/N. You can call me Hyunjae.” He tries to meet your eyes but they’re focused on picking at the skin around your nails, legs criss-crossed on your seat.
“Why do you go by Hyunjae?” You decide to ask, glancing up at him finally. “Your dad said your birth name was Jaehyun.”
“I don’t remember when exactly it was, but when I was in grade school, a classmate called me Hyunjae by accident and it just stuck. I’ve never really liked the name Jaehyun, if I’m being honest. It was a common name, and well, you of all people should know that I’m all about my individuality.” He leans back in his chair a bit, folding his arms over his chest. You ignore how it makes his pectorals squish together. God, you were no better than man…
“Is that why you’re nothing like your father?” You don’t mean to say that out loud. The thought popped into your head, as it always does, and for some reason this time it just shimmies its way through your mouth. You press your lips together, shifting uncomfortably at the sudden tension that arises in the room.
“I’m well aware of what you think of me, Y/N,” he chides, tapping his fingers against his biceps. “You may think you’re good at hiding it, but I’m very perceptive. And I also overheard that conversation with your friend— the one where you were plotting my assassination and whatnot.”
“Are you open to rebuttal?” Perhaps you should just stop talking, maybe pause the hole you were digging yourself into. Did you want to keep your job? Sure this was all off the record, but be fucking for real, it was Hyunjae you were speaking with.
He shrugs. “Shoot. Let’s hear it.”
“You’re kind of a narcissist,” you kick off strong, hitting him right where you think it may hurt. “You don’t take in the consideration of others, and you always have to be correct. If someone even slightly disagrees with you, you lose your shit. You’re condescending, you’re a perfectionist, you’re hot headed, and after the stunt you pulled today, you’ve exhibited that you’re also really fucking irrational. I’ve done so much in the time I’ve been with the company prior to you, I’ve given so much of myself for the improvement that your father was aiming for and you took all that hard work and crushed it between your fingers, just to have me running around like I’m your maid.”
Hyunjae wears an amused smirk on his lips, like he couldn’t be bothered with your grievances. Your eye practically twitches, irritation boiling up like water ready for a pasta dinner. You stab your chopsticks into a piece of sushi with a raised eyebrow.
“You’re cute when you get worked up,” he hums, carding a hand through his hair. “I almost want to keep my thoughts to myself.”
You choke on your saliva, smacking yourself on the chest to regain control of your breathing. Whatever you were expecting him to say wasn’t that. Should he even be calling you that? He was your boss. Not just that, but you sort of hated everything there was to hate about him. The tiny compliment shouldn’t make both of your heartbeats quicken.
“W-What are you talking about?”
Hyunjae stands from his chair, walking around the table to sit on the edge of the desk in the room, not much further away but enough distance to keep you calm. He rolls his neck, scratching at the nape to relieve some of the awkwardness seeping into the suite. “My father has done nothing but sing your praises since he hired you. I know how capable you are of this job, Y/N. I know that you’ve accomplished more than individuals who have been with the company even longer than you. Trust me, I know.”
“Then why do you discard me the way you do? Why do you treat me like I don’t know what I’m doing?” This time you don’t stop the emotions from creeping beneath your words, your voice cracking just slightly. If Hyunjae heard, he makes no effort to show it.
“Because, I had to keep myself as far from you as possible,” he admits, finally making eye contact. “From the moment I laid eyes on you, I was fucked. I knew I wouldn’t be able to control myself around you and as your boss, I couldn’t do that. As my father’s son, I couldn’t do that. So I resorted to the next best thing, making you hate me and having you do shitty side tasks to separate myself from you. I thought, ‘If she thinks I’m the worst boss ever, she’ll want nothing to do with me’. And that’s exactly what my goal was. But now you’re here in Tokyo, alone with me in my hotel room and I’m starting to rethink that decision.”
You stare at him— mouth agape, heart in your throat. Once upon a time, you believed Lee Hyunjae was one of the brightest, smartest businessmen of your generation. It seemed that he just wanted to go and prove you wrong on that today, in multiple instances. How could someone be so fucking stupid? You were genuinely curious what went through his head.
“You’re unbelievable,” you scoff, a laugh devoid of humor sneaking in along with it as you stand from your own chair. “Actually unbelievable. What made you think that was a good idea? You made me feel like I wasn’t good enough to be in this position because you didn’t think you could keep it in your pants around me?”
And just as you’re about to leave, he wraps his fingers around your wrist to stop you. You were getting a weird sense of déjà vu. He pulls you into his chest, your body sandwiched between his legs as he holds you close to him. Your eyes are wide and your lips are parted. (Though you don’t know if it’s out of shock, sudden arousal, or both.)
In this proximity, you can see every small detail of his face. From the freckle on the bridge of his nose to the thick eyelashes framing dark eyes to the softness of his lips. You’ve never had the opportunity to properly look at Hyunjae, always too pissed off to even be within ten feet of him. But standing here— face-to-face, eye-to-eye— you’re starting to wish the object of your hatred and many complaints wasn't so handsome.
“If you push me away now, I’ll leave you alone forever,” he breathes, hands fisting the material of your pajama top, as if that would ground him. “If you tell me there’s absolutely no possibility of you wanting me back, I’ll let you go back to your room like none of this happened.”
You don’t respond. The words are right there. They’re perched on the tip of your tongue, just anticipating to climb out of your mouth and put him in his place. It’s been months of constantly feeling like you were meaningless to the company you’ve given so many sleepless nights to— months of second guessing just how much you’ve actually contributed. But with one glance down to your lips with eyes resembling the night sky, Hyunjae has managed to wipe all of that from your memory.
So instead of turning around— instead of walking through the four doors that divide your hotel rooms— you stay planted between his thighs, grabbing the sides of his face and pulling his lips onto your own.
He groans into the kiss, tightening his grip on your shirt and bringing you closer to him. You feel him against your stomach, hard and ready for you, ready for any contact you’re willing to give him. It’s so much and too little at the same time, fingers slipping beneath your top and searing your skin.
He nips at your bottom lip, as if asking for permission to permeate your mouth with his tongue. You welcome the wet muscle with gratitude, moaning when it tangles with yours. The blunt edges of his nails dig into your lower back when the sound hits his ears. You tug at the hairs on the base of his neck, one hand sliding down the front of his body to feel him up.
Through the thin silk of his pajamas you can make out the outline of his sculpted torso. If Hyunjae was more coherent and less intoxicated by your lips on his, he’d tease you for your desperation. But because he's neither of those, he, too, finds himself clawing at every bit of fabric of your clothing he can, longing to touch anything he can get his hands on. You feel drunk, and you wonder if he makes you feel like this with his lips alone, what else can he do?
The straps of your top fall off your shoulders the longer you stand there, making out like it was second nature to both of you. When you take a step back to catch your breath, lips swollen and glistening with a mixture of both yours and his saliva. Your chests are heaving up and down, foreheads resting on the other’s.
“Can I take that as a yes?” Hyunjae rasps, pushing your straps further down your arms. You whine, connecting your mouths again. This was embarrassing enough, you didn’t want to have to say the words out loud. Saying it out loud made this real, and you didn’t want to accept the fact that you were about to fuck your boss.
He chuckles against your lips, undoing the buttons of his shirt without parting from your kiss. You help him toss it somewhere in the room, your hands groping his arms and squeezing his biceps. He spins the two of you around so you’re the one with the edge of the desk on your back. His arms hook under your thighs, placing you on the surface so it’s less strain on his neck as he leans down.
You instinctively spread your legs to make room for him, throwing your head back with a drawn out sigh when he presses two fingers to your core. Even with your panties and your flimsy pajama shorts in the way, the pressure relieves some of the ache you feel in your gut. Your top slips off enough that your bare breasts are now on full display for Hyunjae. He keeps circling your clit through your clothes, mouth enveloping one of your peaked nipples and tongue swirling around the sensitive bud.
“C-Can’t hold on anymore,” you whimper. “Need to cum on your cock.”
Something shifts in Hyunjae when he hears you beg. You’d always been so set in stone when it came to standing your ground, so for you to surrender yourself to him, in spite of reiterating how much you despise him, it did a number on his sanity. You have no idea what you’ve just done to him.
“No foreplay? Think you can handle it, sweetheart?” He goads, but his fingers dip into the waistband of both your underwear and your shorts to pull them down your legs anyway.
“You’re talking a whole lot for someone who’s still wearing their pants.” You bite back, but almost immediately retract your words when he rids them, revealing that he wasn’t wearing anything underneath them. No fucking wonder you could feel him so much.
He’s huge, like so huge you kind of regret skipping the foreplay. But it was too late to go back now, your pride as big as his dick. One of your hands reaches to wrap around his length, your teeth finding purchase on your lip as you stroke him gently. Every pulse and every vein beneath your touch has you curling your toes in excitement. He hisses when your thumb swipes over his tip, collecting the precum that’s formed there.
Hyunjae drags you closer to the edge, prying your legs wider so he fits perfectly between them. You guide him to your entrance, a moan ripping from your throat when he presses into you. He’s not even fully sheathed inside of you, but the stretch is so fucking delicious, stinging just enough that it provides pleasure rather than pain. He pulls out to drive back in and repeats, a little deeper each time he does.
When he bottoms out, his hips snap into yours, large hands keeping your thighs apart as he begins to thrust into you. His cock is snug within your warm walls, kissing so deep inside that you start to see stars well before the coil in your abdomen has begun to wind up. The noises leaving your mouth are insane, loud and echoing throughout the hotel room. It made shame bubble up in your chest, because why couldn’t your detestation overpower the urge to crumble at his fingertips?
“Fuck you’re so tight,” Hyunjae groans, eyes concentrated on where his cock slips in and out of you. “You needed this, huh? Needed me to fuck you real good? Like a filthy slut?”
You’ve never thought you’d be into degradation. In fact, a man calling you demeaning names actually pissed you off. So you felt like you’d end up picking a fight if ever in the situation where someone tried to degrade you. However, the words falling from Hyunjae’s lips have the opposite effect on you. They have you clenching around him and mewling like a goddamn pornstar.
His pace is relentless, inching you closer and closer to your breaking point. He lays you flat on the desk, one hand gripping your hip and the other sneaking to your clit. His thumb rubs ovular motions into the engorged skin, his body folding over yours to capture your lips with his. He swallows your cries when your climax washes over you suddenly, your walls fluttering around his cock.
Hyunjae pulls out before he can follow suit, flipping you onto your stomach like you were a fucking pancake. He bends you over the edge of the desk as his thumb continues to circle your clit slowly, languidly just to ride out your high. He propels forward, his dick still so hard as it breaches your hole once again. He curses, extra sensitive after depriving himself of his own orgasm.
You push back on him, wanting to feel him even deeper. Your whole body burns beneath him, his chest slick with sweat as it presses you flat to the desk. You need him everywhere, God you want him everywhere. It’s not enough to have him buried inside of you. You need to be one with him; one body, one mind, one soul. You need him filling your senses— blinding your sight, obstructing your scent, stealing your touch, invading your taste, muting your hearing.
Okay, now let’s resume.
“Look at you, rutting against me like a fucking bitch in heat,” Hyunjae growls, lips beside your ear as he pounds into you from behind, your hair wrapped tightly around his fist. “Thought you hated me, sweetheart.”
“I— fuck— I do,” you whine, back arching off of the desk and into his chest. “I hate you s-so goddamn much.”
“Yeah? I’m sure you do. You hate me so much, yet you want me to fuck you full of my cum, don’t you? Gonna let me finish inside you?” His voice is exerted, and you can tell he’s close. But you are too, so you’re not above pleading for your sweet release. Not when it rewards you so well.
“Mhm,” you whimper, cheek smushed to the surface under you. “Please, Jae… Need it so— oh my god— need it s-o bad.”
Hyunjae hikes one of your knees onto the desk, allowing him to plunge extensively. Your clit bumps the edge, that coil in your stomach fracturing little by little until it’s busted completely and you’re a babbling, incomprehensible mess. The sight of you fucked absolutely stupid tips Hyunjae into his own spiral, painting your velvety walls with thick ropes of his cum. He lets his forehead fall on your shoulder, rocking into you with delayed groans as he spills all he has to offer you. It’s so much that even his cock plugging you up isn’t sufficient to keep it from dribbling along your thighs.
You’re both too winded to move, much less fathom what just happened. You feel him panting on your back, eyes shut as you also attempt to regain your bearings. Where the hell do you go from here?
“H-Hyunjae…” You wince when he stirs inside of you. “Can— uh— can you pull out?”
He grunts as he carefully does what you’ve asked, running a hand down his face when more of his release trickles out of you. He knew you couldn’t afford another round. Just by looking at you he can see how spent you are. What you needed was another bath and some good rest. Without skipping a beat, he reaches out to tuck some strands of your hair that were stuck to your face behind your ear, wiping away the sweat that glued itself there.
“We have a lot to talk about,” he says, grasping your hands and caressing the backs with his thumbs. “But that can wait until tomorrow. For now, just let me take care of you, okay?”
“Okay.” You agree, tone no more voluminous than a whisper.
You did have a lot to discuss pertaining to tonight, but that wasn’t a priority at the moment. Who really cared that you supposedly hated your boss? All you could focus on was how gentle his fingers were as he washed your body for you, massaging your muscles so delicately you might as well have melted in the palms of his hands. And all you could pay attention to was the hushed sound of his voice as he kissed your temple and lulled you to sleep, within the comfort of his arms.
Yeah. You could revisit the whole Lee Hyunjae hatred train another day.
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bihansthot · 7 months
Text
Name: Mid-Autumn Festival 1,000 Follower Spectacular!
Rating: Mature
Pairing: Bi-Han x afab!Reader
Word Count: 4,000
Summary: You and your husband Bi-Han enjoy a nice family dinner at Madam Bo’s for the Mid-Autumn Festival and later enjoy some alone time with one another, experimenting in ways you never have.
Author’s notes: Happy Mid-Autumn Festival lovelies! Have I got a treat for you and it involves mooncakes but that’s not all! Y’all wanted Bi-Han getting a prostate massage and fuck if I didn’t deliver it! This is kind of a mash up of things I wanted to write, one being festival stuff, the other being a celebration of hitting over 1.000 followers here on tumblr! It’s so wild to me that a blog that just rambles about Bi-Han and writes about him has so much love but here we are! This story has some dirty talk and possessive Bi-Han in it but also has some soft moments, its a good mix of fun and filth and hopefully y’all enjoy it! If you do please don’t be shy with the likes, comments, reblogs, DMs etc. Let me know you liked it please! Enjoy lovelies!
You giggle and shove Bi-Han’s heavy body off of yours, “Polar Bear, stop, we’re in public,” your words are slightly slurred as you find yourself pleasantly buzzed. You look around the expansive tea house and despite the size everything seems warm and homey, you’re always happy when you’re out with Bi-Han at Madam Bo’s.
“Come on qīn, it’s the Mid Autumn Festival it is all about the love between Chang’e and Hou Yi, you shouldn’t be stingy with the affection,” Bi-Han laughed and you could tell by the blush high on his cheeks that the cryomancer was drunk, or at least tipsy, Bi-Han could hold his liquor quite well and you didn’t think you’ve ever actually seen him drunk.
“Brother, why don’t you have some more to eat, that’s what the Mid-Autumn Festival is really about, sharing food with your family,” Kuai Liang chimes in pushing a delectable-looking bowl of steamed crabs toward Bi-Han. “Father always used to talk about the importance of spending time together as a family.”
“Fuck Father, I’m glad he’s dead,” Bi-Han slurs before reaching for a steamed pork bun instead as he bit into the light, fluffy bun.
“Polar Bear, please not tonight, tonight is about family, don’t upset your brother’s please,” you urge, your face clouding with worry.
“Tch, sorry qīn, you’re right tonight it about celebrating family and being together,” he grumbles reluctantly and motions for you to pour him another cup of baijiu.
You’re hesitant to pour another cup for him, but you don’t want to deal with his complaining and posturing if you don’t so despite your better judgment you pour the liquor into his cup. You reach for some of Madam Bo’s delicious har gao and happily eat the plump, juicy shrimp dumpling leaving the crabs for your husband and brothers-in-law to share.
“It was a good idea coming down to Madam Bo’s for Mid-Autumn Festival this year, none of us have to clean up afterwards,” Tomas laughs and takes one of the crabs for himself. “I know I appreciate it! Do you know how much work it is cooking and cleaning up for the three of you?” You laugh and take a sip of oolong tea, trying to pace yourself on drinking, you’re well aware you can’t hold your liquor quite as well as Bi-Han can, well not baijiu at any rate.
“Who cleans up qin? Huh?” Bi-Han raises his eyebrow at you and you have the decency to look sheepish knowing full well the cryomancer always did the cleanup when you did the cooking.
“I, uh well,” you shove some roast duck in Bi-Han’s mouth to silence the cryomancer’s protests. “Tomas, how are things lately, I feel like I haven’t see you or Kuai Liang in ages,” you switch the topic.
“Things have been challenging but very rewarding, work with the Shirai Ryu are going well and we’ve even managed to find a promising new initiative, his name is Hanzo,” Tomas answers with ease in between sips of his own glass of baijiu.
You were so pleased the brothers had managed to work out their differences after Fire God Liu Kang and intervened and the two of you had talked some sense into Bi-Han. Kuai Liang and Tomas had still kept their Shirai Ryu to be the guardians and protectors of Earthrealm whereas Bi-Han kept his Lin Kuei and they were granted more of a prominent role in the tournament and guiding Earthrealm. It had been harder to convince Sektor that his army of drones were no longer necessary, but thankfully Bi-Han had seen sense and had commanded Sektor to stand down. There was still definitely tension between the brothers, but you were content that you were all in a good enough place that you all could come together to celebrate the Mid-Autumn Festival as a family. The festival was a foreign concept to you when you first arrived in Fengjian, but you had fallen in love with the holiday when Bi-Han told you the story of Chag’e and Hou Yi, their beautiful, tragic love story made you weep, but despite the sorrow you loved the idea of being able to celebrate their love. “Hanzo huh? Well that’s good, I’m glad to hear things are going well, but I will admit things are lonely without all of you.”
“Earthrealm needs the Shirai Ryu, its a sacrifice we all have to make,” Kuai Liang interjected before you could get too involved in clan politics.
“Yes, of course, I understand,” you reply, sneaking another dumpling and a sip of tea, the table was laden with so much food there was no way the four of you would be able to finish, you regret not inviting Sektor and Cyrax, but thought it was better they weren’t there as there was still bad blood between the two clans.
“Who’s ready for Moon Cakes?” Madam Bo suddenly interrupts, placing a heaping plate of assorted pastries on the table.
“Moon cakes!” You squeal with excitement and suddenly you somehow feel hungry again, you had never had the pastry before you started dating Bi-Han, but after trying them you were hooked on them, the custard-filled ones were your favorite. As if she were a psychic Madam Bo pops a mini custard-filled one in your mouth and you can’t help moaning with delight as the flaky pastry gives way to the luxurious custard inside.
“Madam Bo, you spoil us,” Tomas smiles at the elderly patroness as she smiles at your happy reaction to the confection.
“Nonsense Smoke, it’s Mid-Autumn Festival! Everyone gets moon cakes! I can’t have my customers unsatisfied on such an auspicious day,” Madam Bo chirps happily.
“Thank you Madam Bo,” you manage after finishing your miniature moon cake, a look of satisfaction plastered to your face.
“The one with the black dot is the sesame one Bi-Han,” Madam Bo laughs before slipping him the bill and heading off to tend to her other customers.
Bi-Han doesn’t hesitate grabbing one of the ones with the black dots, sesame moon cakes you know are his favorite and he acts like a little kid when he gets one, to the point that you’re surprised he doesn’t ask you the make the confection year round. He finishes off his moon cake before draining his umpteenth cup of baijiu, he counts out his bills carefully before adding some extra for Madam Bo, despite tipping not being customary in China, it was a holiday after all and Madam Bo deserved it for her warmth and hospitality. “Shall we?” he asks standing up and swaying on his feet slightly.
The four of you make your way back to the Lin Kuei Temple as you bid good night to your brothers-in-law and giggle drunkenly toddling after Bi-Han.
You flop on your shared bed as Bi-Han struggles with getting his belt off, he finally works his way through all the layers of his belt and lets it fall on the stone floor. You watch him wrestle with the rest of his complex uniform, in no state to be able to help him with the various layers and complex knots holding his layers off. After several long minutes, Bi-Han seems to finally work his way out of his excessively complicated robes as he flops on the bed next to you. “I’m proud of you Polar Bear, I know letting your brothers leave and create their own clan isn’t easy for you, but you did a very good job acting very civilized tonight.”
“I don’t want to talk about them, show me your tiddies,” he smirks at you reaching for the hem of your qipao you had worn at his insistence.
You laugh at his immature behavior, “help me unzip it then,” you whisper running your hand along his smooth cheek.
“Fine, fine,” he agrees, giving you a slightly petulant pout as if to say, how can’t you just become instantly naked, as he tugs the zipper down and carefully helps you out of the garment.
You’re pleased that even in his inebriated state Bi-Han had the common sense to remember this was your favorite qipao, one based off of one of his mother’s, and he was gentle with it. You lay next to him in just your lingerie, one of your favorite sets, dark blue and lacy, it was equal parts delicate and sexy, it also fit perfectly, there was no overflow or pinching and the underwear hid your imperfect little belly.
“Fuck your tits are huge,” He laughs drunkenly burying his cold face in between your ample chest making pleased little noises as he rubs his face back and forth.
“Polar Bear,” you giggle as you tug his hair loose from his tie, his ebony locks spilling down his well-muscled back, you stroke his silken locks as your husband continues to amuse himself with your breasts.
“I love your tits so much, they’re so soft and so jiggly, they’re like big ol’ flans,” he chuckles as he reaches around to undo the clasp of your bra to be able to manhandle them with ease.
You let out a soft sigh of pleasure as his cold, calloused hands squeeze and grope your sensitive breasts. “I want to play with you tonight, please?” You pull Bi-Han’s head up to look him in his beautiful chocolate eyes as you give him your best pleading look.
He sucks in a low breath and reluctantly rolls off of you to give you free rein of his body, “what did you have in mind qin?”
“There’s something I want to try, keep an open mind Polar Bear, its supposed to feel really good for you, I promise,” you bite your lower lip, sucking it into your mouth as your eyes roam over his flawless body.
“What?” He asks sitting up on his elbows, trying to fight off the pleasant floaty feeling the baijiu has given him.
“I’m not going to tell you, you just have to trust me, you know I’d never do anything to hurt you, but it might be kind of weird,” you explain running your warm hand along his aching, cold cock.
He leans back with a pleased groan as he lets you stroke his cock with slow, gentle strokes, “fine, but it better feel good,” he mumbles, bucking his hips up slightly.
“Where’s the lube,” you ask pressing a kiss to his cold cheek.
“Lube? What the fuck do you need lube for?” Bi-Han bristles immediately at the mention of the lubricant.
“I need it to jack you off, you said you’d keep an open mind Polar Bear,” you frown at him as you straddle his narrow hips.
The cryomancer grunts unhappily as he relents, “its in the draw in the bedside table,” he tells you as he squirms under you trying to get some friction for his neglected cock.
“Got it,” you grin triumphantly as you pull the tube from the drawer and make your way back to Bi-Han’s dripping cock, it's so pretty you lick your lips, huge, dripping, and heavy against his perfectly cut abs. “Mmm Polar Bear your cock looks delicious right now, I’m a little jealous of my hand,” you sigh almost wistfully as you squeeze some of the lubricant in your hand as you grasp his big cock and give it a gentle tug.
“You can suck it instead,” the cryomancer grins at you as he lifts himself back up on his elbows to watch you.
“Maybe I will,” you muse sticking your tongue out playfully as you fist him gently, not applying much pressure yet, just teasing the cryomancer, loving the feeling of his thick, veiny cold cock in your hand. You lay with your head on his rock-hard abs as you can’t help but let your tongue dart out and gather the pearly fluid leaking out of Bi-Han’s cock, it’s cold but not bitter, salty but not unpleasant, musky and masculine and perfectly him.
“Mmm qin, that feels nice,” the cryomancer practically purrs in his drunken state, something you absolutely loved was how Bi-Han didn’t seem to care about how vocal he was when he had been drinking.
Your hand works along his cock, stroking him with a firm grasp as you twist your hand in a circle when you reach his soft, velveteen head, “Bi-Han,” you whine his name as you look up at his pretty flushed face, his hair hanging loose around his face as he bites his lip with pleasure, it was the perfect picture a sight no one but you were privy to see. Your hand moves faster now, pulling another groan from the cryomancer as you jack him off, you seize your chance while he’s focused on the feeling of your hand gliding over his dick, you switch hands so your lubricated hand is no longer stroking the cryomancer, who hisses at the added drag your other hand offered. You take a deep breath and swallow audibly as you carefully nudge his legs further apart and there it is, the little pucker that you have your sights set on. Slowly, carefully you trace the outside of the hole with your slicked-up finger and before Bi-Han can react or stop you, you slowly sink the finger inside.
“Wha-what the fuck!? What are you doing qin?!” He starts, body going rigid, his ass clamping around you instinctually.
You ignore him though and fish around inside him for that little bundle of nerves that you know in spite of himself is going to make Bi-Han feel good, and you find it as you stroke it with a come hither motion.
“Huh, wha, why hnnnggghhh,” the cryomancer can’t hold back the pleased noise as you stroke his prostate, “fucking stop this is weird,” he starts to sit up.
Your hot mouth drops over his cock, swallowing him down as best as you can in a practiced motion, your finger wiggling further in his tight hole.
“Ah, fuck qin, that, that feels kind of good, do… do it again,” he pants and squeezes his eyes shut as he relaxes against the bed enjoying the feeling of your warmth encompassing his cold cock.
The noises he makes are like heaven to you as your mouth works his cock over, your tongue laving every inch of it as you suck it further into your throat. Slowly you work a second finger into the tight ring of muscle as you massage the cryomancer’s prostate, your fingers dancing across the fleshy nub.
“Ta ma de,” he groans deeply in his native tongue as he subconsciously grinds his perfect ass against your fingers, the baijiu loosening his inhibitions enough to enjoy this very rare role reversal.
You pull away from his delicious cock to echo his sentiment, “fuck,” you take in his flushed, blissed-out expression as you thrust your fingers in and out slowly, applying steady even pressure to the small organ inside the cryomancer.
Bi-Han lets out a low moan as your fingers speed up, his body starting to tremble with his impending release, “shit qin, that feels really good, keep going, please,” he practically bites his own tongue to stop himself from begging like a little bitch in heat.
Your tongue massages the underside of his shaft as your fingers keep moving in and out of the cryomancer’s tightness, you never actually thought you’d get this far, you thought maybe you’d get one finger in before he wigged out and stormed off for the night but actually getting to finger fuck your husband made your brain short circuit. You shift and rub your thighs together trying to alleviate some of the mounting pressure, seeing Bi-Han look so fucked out had you nearly cumming from the sounds he made alone. Your stomach feels tight as arousal pools in it and you don’t know how much longer you can keep yourself from making the cryomancer fuck you, you want to see him cum though, you want to taste his cold, viscous fluid filling your mouth, so you don’t stop, you can’t stop, you ignore your own desires and focus solely on his. You bob your head along his cock, forcing as much inside as possible, it burns as it stretches your throat, but the little shout Bi-Han makes is worth the discomfort. Your finger twist and screw in and out of the cryomancer’s tight confines, each press and thrust of your fingers massaging his prostate more and more.
“Qin, I’m gonna,” he gasps and lets out a choked-off cry as he tries to warn you, but you get the message, your fingers double their efforts as you pound into his prostate and you pull back until only the tip of his huge cock is left in your mouth. With a loud growling shout of pleasure, Bi-Han is cumming in your mouth.
You moan as the icy liquid splashes against your tongue the saltiness coating your mouth with the thick liquid. Your tongue swishes the cold fluid around as you swallow frantically trying not to spill a drop of the cryomancer’s cum, you can’t help it though, Bi-Han cums so much more than a mouthful as some of his release flows down your chin.
Bi-Han just moans with satisfaction as his release keeps seeping from your hot mouth, his hips still as do your fingers, “fuck me, what was that?”
“A prostate massage,” you answer, pulling off his cock with an audible pop as you swallow down more of the cryomancer’s essence. You wipe your chin off and make a show of licking your finger clean watching Bi-Han’s lust-darkened eyes, you raise an eyebrow as you look down at his still-hard cock. “Someone’s not done apparently,” you comment gesturing to his huge dick.
“Well of course not, my girl hasn’t cum yet, I still have a job to do,” he growls before pouncing on you and pinning you down. The cryomancer all but rips your soaked panties off as he rubs the velvety head of his cock against your dripping walls.
“Fuck Bi-Han, please, I need to cum so bad, seeing you like that has me so turned on, you were so hot,” you babble as his dick slowly opens you up as his cock sinks into your tight pussy. You cry out loudly at the feeling of the cryomancer rearranging your insides to make room for his massive cock, it feels so good, the stretch and slight burn as he buries his cock inside you.
“Mmm fuck qin, you were made just for me weren’t you? You’re always so pretty and so wet for me, such a good little slut,” he growls possessively as he holds himself inside you balls deep letting you get used to his huge cock.
“Ahhh, Bi-Han please,” you whimper as he starts to move, the pressure in your stomach teetering on unbearable, you knew your little pregame session sucking his cock and finger fucking the cryomancer had turned you on, but you didn’t realize how much it had turned you on. One thrust from the cryomancer and you were practically seeing stars, you shout and throw your arms around him tangling your fingers in his loose hair.
“Hold on tight qin, I don’t feel like taking things slow tonight,” the cryomancer shoots you a smirk and all you can do is moan in response.
You cry out his name over and over as he begins to piston in and out of your tight, wet hole, everything feels too much all at once but perfect all at the same time. Each stroke of his cock drives deeper and deeper into your welcoming pussy as the fat head of his cock assaults your sweet spot. You’re dizzy and lightheaded within minutes and it had nothing to do with the alcohol you consumed, it was all from the cryomancer’s actions, the way his cock moved in and out of your body, the way his weight bore down on you, the way he claimed you as his own.
“Such a good little slut, whining and whimpering so prettily for me, you just love getting stuffed with my big cock don’t you? It’s what you were made for, taking my cock and only my cock, no one else gets to touch you qin, you’re mine,” the cryomancer growls, possession dripping from his words as his grip moves from your hips to press the undersides of your thighs towards your stomach.
“Only you Bi-Han, I’m only yours,” you cry out as the pressure becomes unbearable and heat pools in your stomach despite your body being chilled from the inside out. You cling to the cryomancer, trying to ground yourself but only wind up pulling his hair causing Bi-Han to let out a low, warning growl.
“Only I get to touch you, only I get to fuck you and only I get to paint that pretty little pussy white with my cum, but you’re such a little slut you love every minute of it don’t you,” Bi-Han continues, his words edging you closer and closer to your peak as his cock rams into your cervix over and over causing your entire body to tremble and shake in his grasp.
“Only you Bi-Han, oh fuck only you!” You cry out as your toes curl and the pressure bursts, you cry out his name shrilly as your head thrashes back and forth as your tongue lolls to the side as you cum hard around Bi-Han’s perfect cock. Stars burst before your eyes and pleasure floods your body as you shutter and heave below Bi-Han’s flawless, thrusting body.
Bi-Han groans deeply as he presses your thighs almost flush to your stomach, plowing in and out of your body with little regard for how oversensitive you were in this state, he was only concerned with his own orgasm. He keeps fucking you hard, pounding your cervix open with each thrust as he chases his high, loving the way you cry and tremble for him, “what a good little slut, such a good girl for me, I’ve going to fill you up with my cum now,” he grunts out in between gritted teeth as his hips start to falter and lose their rhythm. “Oh fuck, that’s it, that’s my good slut,” he lets out a low bellow as he stills inside you.
You cry and shake as the cryomancer’s final onslaught brings you to your peak once more, hot fat tears drip down your cheeks as he pushes you past reason. The sensation of Bi-Han’s cold viscous cum painting your walls white does you in, with a weak little sob of his name, you’re tumbling over the edge hurtling towards darkness as your orgasm consumes you.
Neither of you move for a while, you couldn’t even if you wanted as you’re trapped under the weight of the cryomancer as you finally regain consciousness. You whimper softly, unable to find your voice yet as you shiver with cold brought on by the cryomancer being buried deep inside you still.
Reluctantly the cryomancer finally rolls off you to the side of the bed, “fuck qin, that was, well that was something else alright.”
“That was so good,” you whisper, barely able to form coherent thoughts yet, “your cock is too good, I still feel drunk, but I don’t think it’s the liquor anymore,” you giggle softly as you grab one of the fur comforters from the bottom of the bed and roll up in it before slotting yourself next to Bi-Han, laying your head against his rock hard pecs.
“We should, uh maybe try that again sometime,” Bi-Han admits, his cheeks colored with a rosy shade of pink as he looks away not wanting to make eye contact.
“Anytime you want Polar Bear, anytime you want,” you agree and smile before slipping into a very deep and very restful sleep.
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daisynik7 · 7 months
Note
hi nikki, congratulations on 2k! it's so deserved <3
for your event, can I request sk8er boi by avril lavigne with nanami specifically "he was a punk, she did ballet" + fluff
thank you <3
Sk8er Boi
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He was a punk, she did ballet, what more can I say?
Pairing: Nanami x f!reader
Word Count: ~2.4k
cw: fluff, modern day au, no curses au, college au, reader is a ballet dancer, Nanami is a musician and a skaterboarder
Summary: You’ve had a crush Kento Nanami ever since you first saw in him your class, dressed in the typical skater boy attire with baggy jeans and flannel shirt wrapped loosely around his waist. You don’t ever expect to cross paths any further until you find out that he’ll be performing as part of the orchestra for your spring recital. Soon, you learn that the two of you, despite your seemingly obvious differences, are more compatible than meets the eye.
Author’s Note: Thank you for this request @75songs and for always supporting my Nanami content, I appreciate you so much! This is such a fun song for the y2k karaoke party, I really had a blast writing it. I did a bit of research on ballet, so to any/all my ballet dancers on here, I apologize if I got any details completely wrong or inaccurate! Likes, reblogs, and/or comments are ALWAYS appreciated, thanks so much for reading and I hope you enjoy! Divider credit to @/saradika.
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You’re drawn to Kento Nanami from the start, ever since you first lay eyes on him spring semester of your junior year in Music Appreciation. It’s a small class, no more than thirty people in the lecture hall early morning on a Monday. It’s not uncommon for students to travel around campus on a longboard or skateboard, but when you notice Nanami put his on the rack, donned in ripped baggy jeans, white tee, and a blue checkered flannel wrapped around his waist, you can’t help holding your gaze on him a little longer than necessary. As a dance major, with a concentration in ballet, you’re used to your classes being filled with the same people you’ve been with since freshman year. So, when you spot someone new, someone different, it sparks your interest. There’s nothing wrong with admiring from afar, right?  
Two months pass of you crushing on him in secret, sneaking glances during lecture, your heart skipping a beat whenever you spy on him outside of class either in the library or cafeteria. You would have never expected your paths to actually cross in March, when your troupe prepares for the spring recital. Mei Mei, your ballet master, instructs you all to gather at the main theater on campus to meet the orchestra, who will be performing the music for the concert. To your pleasant surprise, Nanami is among the ensemble, carrying a bass clarinet in his hands. 
“This is our grand orchestra for this spring’s recital,” Mei Mei introduces. “They are some of the finest musicians in the city. Some of them are even your fellow peers here from the university. I expect you all to show them your utmost respect and gratitude for volunteering their time to make this concert spectacular.”
You give them a round of applause, eyes flickering to Nanami, wearing his usual skater boy attire. His gaze meets yours, and he smiles, giving you a small wave. Heat rushes into your cheeks, tummy fluttering nervously, flustered by the fact that he’s acknowledged you. You search around, trying to see if it’s someone next to you that he’s waving at instead, but neither of your neighbors seem aware of him. When you look back, his attention is elsewhere, and the moment passes as quickly as it occurred.
The following Monday, you’re early as usual to class. You set up your laptop and take the extra time to people watch, especially eager to see one particular person. He arrives to the lecture hall with about three minutes to spare, placing his skateboard on the rack. Today, he’s in a black V-neck with a familiar logo on his chest, his collarbones barely visible. You expect him to take his usual spot on the other side of the room, a few rows ahead. When he walks towards you, beelining to the empty seat on your left, you’re dumbfounded, hastily collecting yourself as he asks, “Is this taken?”
You shake your head, attempting a smile, unable to coherently forms words into a proper response. He murmurs a soft, “Thank you,” before sitting down, retrieving his laptop to set in front of him. The professor still hasn’t arrived, and for the first time, you’re actually wishing they would to offer a distraction from this unusual situation. 
Nanami clears his throat, turning to face you. “We haven’t properly met yet. I’m Kento Nanami. I recognized you the other day from class. I’m excited to see your performance for the spring recital.”
You introduce yourself, too nervous to meet his gaze, instead focusing on his neck, which only flusters you further. “I’m excited to hear your performance as well. Are you a music major?”
“Yes, music education to be more precise. I want to be a music teacher.”
You smile, relaxing a bit with the easy flow of conversation. “What a coincidence. I want to be a ballet teacher.”
His expression brightens. “Really?”
“Yes, really.”
“Wow,” he muses, eyes twinkling at you. 
Maybe it’s just in your head, but there’s a spark. And when the professor finally arrives, you wish you could take back what you thought earlier, because now, you want nothing more but to be distracted by Nanami. 
~~~
Since that day, you and Nanami talk with each other every chance you get. Before lecture, on the way to your next class, the few minutes until practice starts, and even after, as he walks you to your on-campus apartment with his skateboard tucked under his arm. You learn that he plays a variety of instruments, including bass clarinet, drums, even a little bit of piano. His true passion is bass guitar, which he plays for his band Black Flash. As if you could like him any more than you already do, the thought of seeing him up on a stage, fingers working nimbly on the strings, slapping a riff with that smooth expression on his face does wonders to your heart. You’re shy every time he compliments your dancing, waving him off to say that you still have work to do to improve your technique, make your moves cleaner, more precise. Still, he continues to praise you, in awe of your flexibility and gracefulness. Sometimes, you’ll catch him staring at you from the pit when Mei Mei pauses the music to focus on a certain movement.  
A week before the recital, Nanami waits for you after practice to collect your belongings. You forgot to mention to him earlier that you’ll be staying behind to break in your new pointe shoes, a process that takes a while. “Just go ahead without me,” you tell him.
He lingers while you sit down on the stage, a hard mat in front of you, unboxing your shoes. “What are you doing?”
“Pointe shoes are very stiff, so I have to break them in before I can dance in them properly,” you explain. 
“What do you mean ‘break in’?” He peers at you with a curious expression on his face, kneeling down to sit beside you. 
You smile at him, clapping your shoes together to create a loud noise. “Hear how hard these are? I’m going to bash them against this mat to soften them up.”
“Bash them?” 
“Yup. Like this.” You proceed to smash the sole against the mat repeatedly, enjoying how Nanami gapes at you, shocked. You giggle at him, handing him the other half. “You can help me with this if you want. It’s a nice form of stress relief, right?”
He reaches into his pocket for his phone. “Sounds like a good opportunity to play some music.”
You scoot closer to him. “You should play something by Black Flash,” you request, smirking at him.
“Really? You want to hear something from us?”
“Absolutely.”
He smiles at you, a subtle blush surrounding his cheeks. “Okay.”
For the next half hour, you whack your shoes to the beat of the music, listening carefully for the smooth bass, knowing it’s Nanami. He watches you test them out with Black Flash still playing in the background, stretching and swiveling in them to mold to your feet properly. Usually, you’re alone or with your troupe doing this, and it’s as uneventful as you’d imagine. But with Nanami, this ordinary task is special. You appreciate him being so interested in your passion, even if it is vastly different from his own. You would have never expected the mysterious skater boy from your class to be holding your ballet shoes in hand or clapping politely as you stand on pointe for him, impressed by your skill. And you would have never expected yourself to fall so head over heels for him. 
~~~
The spring recital is a massive success. Mei Mei bows in front of the standing ovation, holding a fresh bouquet of flowers in her hands. She points at the orchestra in the pit, giving them her unending thanks. You glance over at Nanami, looking professional and handsome in his black-tie attire, though you can’t help but miss the typical baggy jeans and basic tee he usually wears. 
Backstage, exhausted but still buzzing with excitement, you all remove your makeup together, discussing the after party. “Are you coming with us? Or are you planning to go out with your boyfriend?” Your friend, Hana, smirks at you through the reflection in the mirror, wiping off her eyeshadow.
Before you can respond, the other dancer beside you scoffs. “Isn’t he a punk or something? What would your parents say if they knew you were dating him?”
Her blatant rudeness shocks you, and you’re unsure how to respond, blood gradually boiling with anger. Luckily, your friend does. “What the hell are you talking about, Kimi? Do you even know him?”
She barks a crude laugh. “I mean, just look at him. He’s always wearing those baggy clothes. You’re telling me she,” Kimi points to you, “will ever get with a guy like him?”
Your friend glares at her, ready to argue, but you interfere, mustering the courage to speak up for yourself, and for Nanami. “He’s a great guy who’s been nothing but sweet and kind to me. Not that it matters, but I happen to like his clothes. And you know what else? I like Nanami, so yes, I would get with a guy like him. So, I would appreciate it if you kept your judgmental attitude to yourself from now on.” 
Conveniently finished removing your stage makeup, you pack your bag, turning your back to her, giving Hana a passing high-five on your way out. 
~~~
“Are you sure it’s okay for me to go there like this?” You sit in the passenger seat of Nanami’s car, dressed in leggings and a comfortable t-shirt, an hour after your performance. He met you outside the theater back in his usual get-up with a dozen roses in his hands, congratulating you. After, you went out for burgers, it was then that he invited you to watch Black Flash tonight at one of the local venues downtown. 
“Of course. You look great, as always,” he answers, grinning at you. “Are you sure you want to go to this? I know there’s probably an after party you’d much rather attend – ”
You interrupt him gently, smiling. “I’d much rather be here than anywhere else right now.” 
When you arrive to the venue, Nanami leads you through the crowd, acknowledging some of the workers as he passes by, making his way backstage. There, you meet his bandmates: Gojo the guitarist, Geto who does lead vocals and guitar, and Shoko, the drummer. They all greet you politely, teasing Nanami for “finally bringing a date to the show.” He blushes, ignoring them, quietly setting up, tuning his bass. 
By the time Black Flash is ready to perform, your new friends direct you back to the audience to watch them. You maneuver your way through the throng of people, taking your spot near the front, wanting a good view of them, especially Nanami. When the MC announces their name, the crowd goes wild, hooting and hollering for them as they walk across the stage, waving at their fans like true rockstars. Your chest fills with adrenaline, heart pumping with excitement, attention focused on Nanami as he stands to the left, guitar hanging low with the strap wrapped around his shoulders. He glances up, searching the audience until his eyes land on yours; he smiles at you, giving you a small wave with his free hand, the left cradling the neck delicately.
As soon as the music starts, the bass reverberates from the speakers and up the soles of your feet, electrifying every nerve in your body. You recognize the song they’re playing; it reminds you of the week before, when you were bashing your pointe shoes against the hard mat, nodding your head along to the music. You’ve since added Black Flash into your daily playlist, listening to it often, imagining Nanami grooving with the bass nestled in his hands. His talent is other worldly; just a few hours ago, he was decked out in a suit, performing in an orchestra, and now he’s out here, rocking the stage with his fellow bandmates. Your pulse quickens, exhilarated by the familiar music and the realization that your little crush on Nanami is much more serious than you originally thought. 
~~~
Nanami skips the band’s invitation for a late-night bite to take you back to campus. In the car, you ask, “Are you sure you don’t want to go with them? I can find another way home easily.”
“I’d much rather be here than anywhere else right now,” he says, repeating the same answer you gave him earlier. You smile, holding each other’s gaze a second longer before he starts driving. 
You babble on and on about how impressive the show was, how completely starstruck you became by the end of it. “The bass really comes through when you’re playing live! I felt it in my soul, especially during ‘Overtime’. I think that might be my favorite song.”
He pulls up to the parking lot down the street from your complex, turning off the ignition. “I’m really happy you came tonight. I know you must be tired.”
“Are you kidding?!” you exclaim, shifting in your seat to face him. “I got a second wind as soon as you started playing! Yeah, my feet are a little sore, so I’ll definitely need to ice them tomorrow morning, but oh my gosh! That was truly amazing! I can’t believe I got to see Black Flash live in concert – ”
He leans into you, interrupting your rambling with a soft kiss on the lips. His hand slides around the nape of your neck, pulling you in deeper, and after the initial shock of it all, you melt into him, mouths moving seamlessly with each other. You only stop to catch your breath, pressing your forehead to his, whispering his name. “Nanami.” 
“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have done that,” he mutters, breaking apart from you, burying his face in his hands. “I should have asked if it was okay with you first. I just…I lost control because you’re so sweet, and so beautiful, and I – ”
“Nanami,” you say again, smiling at him. You pull his hands away from him, brushing your lips along his skin, kissing him softly on each knuckle. “I liked it. I like you.”
He swallows thickly, eyes widening at your confession. “You do?”
“Can I make it any more obvious?” you giggle. 
He lets out a relieved laugh, cheeks rounded with happiness, nuzzling his nose to yours. “I really like you too. I’ve liked you from the start.”
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jeonqkooks · 10 months
Note
a fluff drabble ; 37 & 50 w the supernova couple:(
ways to hold the sun | jjk
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SUPERNOVA SERIES MASTERPOST
pairing: jungkook x f!reader prompts: "you wrote me a song?" + "this isn't adrenaline, i want to spend the rest of my life with you." rating: PG genre/warnings: established relationship, idol au; fluff, itty bitty angst (for the supernova peeps?! shocking :o); kissing, implied smut, jk rides a motorcycle, unedited bc yolo 🤷‍♀��� word count: 1.8k note: thank you so much anon for sending in this request!! i'm almost a year late to this but like i always say, better late than never right? lol. anyways, this request gave me the chance to wrap up their story with a neat little bow. i can't believe this is the last thing i'll write for supernova :( this series will always be one of my personal favorites and i'm so emo that i'm ending their story with this drabble. but, they'll always have a special, special place in my heart and i'll always love them <3
as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡
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How do you hold the sun?
The answer is simple.
You hold him with two arms wrapped around his waist - tightly, because it feels like he holds your life in the palm of his hand. In more ways than one, he does.
You hated that motorcycle that he loved so much, calling it unsafe even though he isn't reckless at all. He may be a daredevil sometimes, and the most adventurous compared to his hyungs, but Jungkook would never neglect his safety. He returns home to you every day, that's always his number one priority.
He'd convinced you to let him take you out on his motorcycle today, to this spot he knows just outside of the city to watch the sunset together. You'd been against the idea at first, but it was a losing battle and you were all too aware of it. Once he'd whipped out a pout and big puppy dog eyes, you knew you'd cave.
Now, as you sit behind him, holding onto him like a koala as the bike moves smoothly along with the wind, you're glad that you'd agreed to let him do this. The city grows smaller, and it feels like all of your worries seem more and more insignificant - manageable, like something you could easily overcome - by the second, until the whole skyline can fit into one single frame.
It feels nice, hiding in plain sight. The ridiculously chunky helmets that sit securely on your heads shield you from any and all outsiders. You can squeeze him as tightly as you want even at the red lights, and he can hold your hand without the fear of being recognized. To anyone else, you're just two lovebirds and a license plate. Two people in love. It's the most normal thing in the world.
When you arrive at your destination and he takes off his helmet, the radiance of his grin almost knocks you off your axis. It's ever-bright, filled with so much happiness that could make you cry for some reason. You'll never understand how a person can be the entire universe, so wonderful and spectacular and magnificent, but he is. He always will be.
There's that one poem that you hold close to your heart. Sometimes, when you retrace the words in your mind, you think it must have been written for you and him. "We deserve a soft epilogue, my love," it reads. "We are good people and we've suffered enough."
You aren't sure if you're a good person, but as he kisses you with so much love that must rival any other love in all of history, you think you do deserve a soft epilogue.
Your mother often says that good things should be repeated three times.
You and him.
You and him.
You and him.
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How do you hold the sun?
You hold him with your fingers intertwined with his, a soft smile on your face, and dozens of polaroids scattered across the floor.
"Just one more," Jungkook says, reaching for the purple Instax again.
"Stop!" you laugh, lightly pushing him away when he tries to point the lens in your direction. "You've said that twenty times in the last two hours."
This is a new hobby that he's taken up. Ever since Hoseok gifted him the damn camera, it's all that Jungkook has been doing. To say that he was obsessed would probably be an understatement. He snaps photos of everything and nothing, of his meals whenever you draw a heart on his plate with the mayonnaise, of the crescent moon outside the window at night, of himself as he makes silly faces at the camera.
But most of all, he takes photos of you.
He keeps so many of them in his wallet that the stack of polaroids dedicated to you is thicker than all of his cash, which is to say that there's a lot. He keeps one in the pocket of every coat, because he said every time he reaches inside for warmth and finds a piece of you there, it makes him smile and forget that he's even cold at all. You'd nearly melted when he told you that. It was so earnest and pure that it almost made you feel guilty for ever thinking there'd come a day where the adoration he had for you could fill anything less than the sky.
"Please?" Jungkook pouts, before pulling you closer and kissing your cheek sweetly. "I need just one more for my new coat."
At this point, it's not a matter of having enough polaroids for his coats anymore. It's a matter of having enough coats for his polaroids.
You roll your eyes with playful endearment, but you allow him regardless. It shoots pure serotonin through your veins when he grins. He lets go of your hands to hold the camera, immortalizing the grin that you mimic, a contented sigh leaving him as he takes the shot. He tells you he loves you afterward, like it's such a privilege to be able to have you at all.
No one ever warns you that when the sun holds you back, your heart will feel so full that it might just stop beating altogether.
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How do you hold the sun?
You hold him with your face tucked safely in the crook of his neck, his arm around your body, rubbing odd patterns on your bare back.
You're both calming down from the hour-long session of twisting around in the sheets on a lazy Sunday morning, your only witness being the sunlight that creeps in through the slit between your curtains. Jungkook hums a tune that you're unfamiliar with, and the soft vibration of his chest almost lulls you to sleep again.
"What song is that?" you mumble, your eyes fluttering close.
"Your song."
"Hmm?" You don't quite register what his answer, you already have one foot in dreamland already. "My song?"
"Wrote it for you."
And suddenly, just like that, you're wide awake.
He presses an absentminded kiss against your hair, like this is all just common information.
"Huh?" You push yourself up to prop your upper body on one elbow, looking down at him with a slight frown. "You wrote a song for me?"
"Yeah," he chuckles at your reaction. His other hand that isn't touching your back comes up to brush your hair away from your face, tucking it delicately behind your ear. If you weren't too focused on a different issue, you would blush, even though this is something he's done a million times. "I wrote a song for you."
"Be serious."
"I am serious."
"How?" you ask, unbelieving. "When? Why?"
"What do you mean how? It's literally my job," he laughs, pulling you flush against his body again. "Why? Because I love you. When? I started writing it after we first met."
"Jungkook," you breathe, full of teary-eyed affection as you press a kiss to his jawline, his neck, the top of his shoulder, anywhere you can reach while he's embracing you this tightly.
You repeat his name three times, then three more, then three more, until you're a broken record and he has to shush you with a kiss, one that makes your knees buckle even though you're already lying in bed.
If the world wanted to take him away from you again, you really wouldn't be able to survive. So you hold him desperately, thinking that you never want to let him go. Praying that the world will let you keep him this time.
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How do you hold the sun?
You hold him with all your might, even though you're blinded by how bright he shines. Even though he's the source of all life, and you're just a flickering light that can be snuffed out at any moment.
You're always the first person that he looks for. He runs to you at full speed, picks you up with his arms around your waist and spins you around despite your flushed cheeks indicating embarrassment as everyone - the staff and his members included - chuckles fondly at the sight. You can still hear the crowd out there chanting their names, still buzzing with postshow excitement. Jungkook is buzzing too, that much is clear.
You know he misses this - the stage, the fans, the bond he shares with all the people that adore him. It's in his eyes, the way they sparkle so brilliantly that could put stars to shame. If you were any good with words, you would write whole novels about the light in his eyes.
He presses you against the wall while everybody else carries on with their business. You suppose they're used to this from the two of you. The staff hurries to clear the set, moving equipment from backstage to the vans outside so they could finally wrap up an exhausting day. The boys shuffle wordlessly to their dressing rooms to wind down, to bask in the high that only the stage could bring them.
Jungkook peppers kisses all over your face, his nose bumping your skin as he moves from your forehead to your cheek, the bridge of your nose, to your jawline, to your chin, to your lips. You giggle quietly as you let him shower you with affection, the palpable love seeping through every kiss.
That is, until he says something that makes you stop breathing completely.
"Marry me."
You stare at him, dumbfounded, as you try to make your brain work again. His chocolate orbs stare back at you, and it feels like looking at the night sky on a cloudless night to find the entire galaxy twinkling, smiling down at you. It's unfathomable how you could be loved by someone like him.
"Marry me. Please, marry me." he says again, his fingers caressing your face like you're the most precious being he's ever seen. Before you can open your mouth to answer him, he continues, "This isn't adrenaline. I want to spend the rest of my life with you."
You know you're nothing compared to him who lies in the center of the universe. You will never be able to shine as brightly as he does, not even a fraction.
You know you're nothing compared to him, and yet, he revolves around you regardless. To the rest of the world, you're insignificant. You're merely a soul among billions of others. If you were to disappear one day, you don't think a lot of people would care.
But to him, you're everything. You're the reason he exists, you're his favorite person in the whole wide world, you're the only one who will ever have his heart, you're his soft epilogue. He doesn't dim his light for you, and he should never have to. Instead, he lifts you up. He makes you shine too, even if it's only the two of you who see it. It's only you and him, but it's more than enough. It's the only thing that matters.
So, the question remains: How do you hold the sun?
The answer, in the end, is simple.
You hold him with love.
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all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted 25.06.23]
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thepascalofus · 7 months
Text
Growing on Me - Chapter One
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AO3
Din Djarin x botanist!Reader
Word Count: 6.1K
Summary: The Plant Species Inventory Project is a one hundred day expedition in the forests of Nevarro. You’re Nevarro’s best (and only) botanist, which is something Karga doesn’t want to risk losing. Making sure you’re safe on this years expedition, Karga hired a Mandalorian to protect you—Mando.
Series Content Warnings: 18+ only, MDNI, swearing, completely made up species and/or irl species instead of canon ones, inaccurate descriptions of Nevarro (it has forests instead of lava plains), lots of biology and environmental stuff (I promise I won’t go too deep with it [i have a bio degree]), 70% strangers/30% enemies to lovers, semi-slow burn, lots of tropes (because what are tropes if we don’t use them am I right?), canon violence, eventual SMUT, eventual FLUFF, reader is described as gender neutral as possible but has female sex organs and is occasionally referred to as a girl, no Y/N, hurt/comfort, happy ending guaranteed!
A/N: I have had this idea brewing in my mind for a while now. I’m so happy to share this with all of you. I truly love the topic I went to school for (biology), so this is mostly for me, oops. There will be lots of biology related stuff in this series, but I promise it will be “comprehensible”, not textbook jargon. Every single like, reblog, comment, smoke signal (that’d be a fun one), and ask truly means the world to me. Sharing my writing is a new thing for me and I’m enjoying it so far. Alsssoooo, I’m planning for this fic to be a long(er) series. 
Leaves crunched underneath your hiking boots with every step you took into the forest. Further and further in, green soaked into your vision and found its home. The forest was moderately dense. Trees of various shapes and sizes were scattered throughout the land. Distances between tree trunks varied, but gaps still allowed for traversion.
The understory was spectacular. Biodiversity could be defined in a dictionary, and a picture of this landscape would take up two and a half pages. Tall, leafy plants with elongated petioles and broad leaves gave the small shade plants cover. Tiny collections of different mosses littered the surfaces of landlocked rocks. Vines found their way up tree trunks and retreated back down, hanging from branches as thick, green ropes.
Light peeked in from the gaps in the forest canopy. Small lizards basked on rocks where the light shined especially bright. Happy, buzzing pollinators made their way from flower to flower in search of sweet nectar.
The light also reflected off of Mando’s silver beskar, and right into your eyes.
You squinted at the white splotches that harassed your vision. In response, you turned your head and ignored the man that stood in the corner of your eye. Your feet continued to weave between plants, careful not to break too many with your steps. With each step, the brown rucksack on your back bounced against your torso and your blaster patted against your thigh.
Karga lent you the rucksack to hold the maps and forms needed for the expedition. It was one hundred days out here. You’ve done longer land surveys and experienced plenty of joy from doing them. But you were with your university mentor then.
Now you’re with Mando.
Karga insisted that the Mandalorian come with you. You sauntered into his office this morning to retrieve the rucksack and its contents, and were met with two men instead of just the High Magistrate himself. Karga pulled you aside and told you to, “think of him as more of an assistant,” but you knew he truly hired the man donning beskar to protect you.
You rolled your eyes in response, but thanked Karga nevertheless. The Plant Species Inventory Project was in its third year, and you were on your third year of running it. Every year you hiked through the surrounding forests of Nevarro for one hundred days to document the species of the forest.
But last year you had to stop early due to receiving a venomous bite from a lizard. Karga called in an airlift and had you rushed to the hospital. The doctors said that if you had arrived five minutes later, you would’ve been dead.
This year, Karga decided that your knife and blaster weren’t good enough against lizards. Instead of getting you better self defense tools, he bought a Mandalorian to protect you. From the lizards.
Right before you passed another rock with a lizard sunbathing on its peak, Mando made his way over to you and put his body between you and the rock. You huffed in response. The lizard had brown, pointy skin with splotches of blue along its back.
“That one is harmless, Mando,” you deadpanned to the man.
“Yeah? How do you know?” He quipped in response.
Taken aback by his sudden eagerness to talk to you—he hasn’t said a word to you since you both left Karga’s office—you quickly explained, “The harmless ones, Glendia ropensis, have blue spots on their back. The venomous ones, Glendia frediama, have green spots.”
Mando turned his helmet to look at you. You stared back at him, directly in his black visor. Other people have told you bits and pieces of folklore about the Mandalorians. The galaxy’s best warriors. They trained to develop their fighting skills as soon as they were old enough.
Yet, the beskar man didn’t phase you. Karga wouldn’t send you into a remote forest with a man he didn’t trust…right? You trusted Karga and his judgment, therefore you trusted Mando to not kill you.
“I thought you were a botanist?” The shiny man stated in confusion.
“I am,” you replied, “just because I know plants doesn’t mean I can’t know animals.”
His helmet tilted in a “fair enough” motion and you two continued to trek through the forest. Mando cleared his throat, “Karga said you were Nevarro’s best botanist.”
“I am,” you repeated, then continued with tight lips, “I’m also Nevarro’s only botanist.”
The man hummed, the sound crackling through the helmet. Facing forward, your gaze drifted downwards to the array of plants on the forest floor. Different leaf shapes popped out at you. Some plants had bright flowers while others lacked them.
BEEP BEEP BEEP.
Your watch went off, signaling for the first sampling. Bringing your rucksack around your shoulder and in front of you, you plopped it down on the ground and opened the sack. A holopad and two cubes were held in your hands as you brought them from out of the brown bag. 
Flipping the switch on one of the cubes, you tossed it to Mando. He stood there, examining the device, while you pulled up the proper programs on the holopad. One program mapped your hike while the other helped you record the species you sampled. You tucked the holopad under your arm after setting up your sampling preferences.
You looked up to see Mando fiddling with the cube you gave him. Your hand whose arm wasn’t holding the holopad flicked the switch on the corresponding cube.
A hologram square projected out of the cubes, the devices corresponded to two diagonal corners of the square. You walked closer to the Mandalorian and the square shrunk. You walked further and the square grew.
Selecting a small rock protruding from the ground, you set the device on top of it. Mando picked up on your motions and found a log to prop the corresponding device onto.
“Don’t all of the sampling plots need to be the same size?” The silver man questioned.
You retrieved the holopad from under your arm and tapped the screen to initiate the calculations on the size of the plot. Looking up from the holopad you pointed to the screen, and replied to Mando with a hint of sass, “The programs standardize everything, so the sampling plots don’t need to be exact.”
His gaze bored into yours while the program calculated the dimensions of the plot and ran other diagnostics of the area. You raised an eyebrow at him, shifting your weight to one foot, “Do you not trust Nevarro’s best botanist?” You asked jokingly, yet with a tone of seriousness.
At first Mando didn’t respond in words, but his shoulders rose, as if he let out a silent laugh at you. He shook his head, helmet rotating from side to side, “It’s only been a couple hours, we’ll see,” Mando drawled. Light glinted off the beskar donning his head as he turned to observe the surrounding woods. 
Bending down, you began to assess the leaves of the first plant to identify. The veins were parallel, running side by side to each other. Leaf arrangement was alternate, no two leaves shared the same growth point on the stem. No vein on the plant touched. They all went and came from the same direction, never meeting.
The second plant had net-like veining on its leaves. Veins crossed and morphed into each other. Leaf arrangement was opposite. Pairs of leaves pinched the stem with their petioles and crossed it perpendicularly. Every feature on the small herb met and weaved together. Each vein could only be minutely distinguished among the web of veins working together to keep the plant alive. 
Stenica aparinese and Wortanum tortanumus.
The pair of you haven’t met before. You knew nothing about the beskar man, besides that he didn’t talk much. But it had only been a few hours, as Mando said before, and you still don’t feel like your paths have crossed. Even though you two have been walking side by side. 
You completed ten samplings before you decided to call it a day. Squatting over plants and counting petals wasn’t mentally difficult, but it was physically. Knees aching and thighs burning, you two made your way through the maze of trees. The holopad glowed in the fading sunlight and aided you in finding the nearest safehouse. 
Footsteps created a chorus of crunches that echoed off the tree trunks. Your gait was focused on avoiding the small, rare plants on the forest floor. Occasionally, you’d stop to get a closer look at some—having never seen them before. 
Mando would pause behind you. His large hands settled on his belt, palm resting near his blaster. The helmet swiveled from side to side as he dragged his gaze over the forest. He would wait patiently near you as you took notes about the species, attempting to identify it. 
“Are we good to go?” He’d grit out after a couple minutes. 
You stood up from a squat and clicked the holopad off, throwing him a quick nod. The crunching chorus resumed, feet finding pockets of common grasses and clovers. Mando’s heavy boots tried to fall within the same pockets of green that yours did, but his success was debatable. 
Sunlight shining down from the canopy became scarce, but not obsolete. The blaster hanging in a holster on your hip tapped against your thigh. The crunches caused by footsteps were accompanied by a cadence of muted pats.
Mando cleared his throat, a sound that choked out of the helmet’s modulator, “Do you know how to use that thing?” The beskar man asked.
You turned to face him, stopping in your tracks. You’ve never had to shoot it, the blaster hung from a holster just in case you needed it. But it can’t be that hard, right? Just point and shoot.
“I mean, yeah,” you shrugged, “you just point and shoot.” Thinking that was an acceptable answer for Mando, you turned to continue towards the safehouse.
“Just point and shoot?” Dry exasperation churned out like gravel from his helmet. 
Lips became a line on your face, and your torso faced him again. Before you could start speaking, he cut you off. “You haven’t used it, have you?” Mando sighed.
You crossed your arms over your chest, exhaustion took over your expression, “Why does it matter? Does a Mandalorian need back up?”
Head turning, your footsteps resumed towards the safehouse. The holopad indicated it was less than fifty meters away. A warm shower and a comfy mattress sounded better than a shooting tutorial—from a man destined to be far better at it than you—would be.
Mando sighed and continued behind you. “What’s the point of carrying a blaster if you don’t know how to use it? If you’ve never shot it?” His helmet gave his tone a sharp edge.
“So I can look like I know how to use it. I don’t want to use it.” 
It was true. You didn’t know what you would do if you actually had to use it. Your biology courses always talked about the fight or flight response, but they rarely talked about freeze.
That’s probably what you would do. You’d freeze. 
“Firing bad shots at someone who does know how to use it, makes you look like you don’t know how to use it,” Mando said matter-of-factly. 
Shoulders dropping, you sighed and trekked forwards. “Look, I know that the bolt comes out of the barrel and to point it at what I want to shoot. And pulling the trigger fires the blaster. I feel like that’s good enough for now,” you rebuked. 
Thankfully, Mando dropped the subject, since the gray exterior of the safehouse came into view. The small building formed a basic cube of cement walls. Only a few windows interrupted the slabs of stone, and they were dark, bleak. Near the tree-brown door was the only sign that the safehouse wasn’t a long-lost monument—a glowing, yellow keypad. If you were the only humans in the forest, the safehouse shouldn’t have been used since last year. 
Approaching the brown door, you dug into your memory for the code that allows entry. Karga asked you what code you wanted when he had them built throughout the forest. 
That’s right! The code is your birth date.
You pressed the corresponding keys, the yellow glow bathed your fingertips in a warm light. The brown door slid open once the last key was pressed. Before you could even find the kriffing lightswitch, a crackle came from behind your head.
“What’s the code?” Mando asked with intention.
Mando must have assumed that you knew where the lightswitch was, because he continued his path over the threshold and directly into your back. The momentum from his body ramming into yours made you stumble, falling towards the wooden floors. You brought your arms up to brace yourself for the harsh impact.
And they hit nothing.
Instead, a large, gloved hand settled on your stomach and pulled you upwards. The muscles of his arm pressed against your side and burned their warmth into your skin. Suddenly, you were back on your feet and the lights were turned on.
You turned around, eyes wide in shock at the speed of events. Mando’s gloved finger dropped from its position under the switch. “Sorry about that,” he sighed.
Acting like he didn’t just seamlessly haul you back to your feet with one arm.
A feeling that was foreign—but not too foreign—seeped from your chest down to your stomach. The ticklish warmth emanated throughout your body in all directions. The same feeling you opted to tune out at while you were at university. Shit.
One guy put a hand on you and now you have butterflies? C’monnn. 
Just like every other time, you blockade the warmth from spreading too far out. Mentally, barricades went up before the feeling could leave your torso. It’s better to stay focused on the task at hand.
Shhkt.
The Mandalorian pressed a button that triggered the door to slide closed.
“Um…”
Were you supposed to thank him? Scold him? Leave it at that? Your mouth tightened and you gave the Mandalorian a curt nod and a, “Thanks.” 
Before receiving his reaction, you turned your back to him to assess the layout of the safehouse. A small, cozy living room with a fireplace filled up most of the space to your left. Knit blankets were draped over the thick cushions that sat upon the wooden furniture frames. 
The space continued into the equally small kitchen. Basic silver appliances filled up most of the kitchen space. Simple, gray pantry doors blended with the small, semi-shiny machines. On the right of you were two doors, one you assumed contained the fresher, and the other containing beds.
Turning to your left, you removed your bag and plopped onto the thick cushions of the couch. The burning in your legs made you unconcerned about making food for dinner or discussing sleeping arrangements.
The burning—or maybe lack thereof—in Mando’s thighs didn’t dissuade him from being persistent.
Mando sauntered over to the couch you were laying on. The thunks of his heavy footsteps became louder as he grew nearer. “Are you going to tell me the code?” Mando’s helmet came into your line of sight as he towered over your slumped figure.
You groaned, “Are you going to stop walking into me?”
The horizontal line of his visor tilted in your view, signifying a, “really?” emotion. His shoulders dropped, “I just want to be able to get in and out of the houses.”
Begrudgingly you told him the code, “It’s my birthday,” you explained.
“Oh, uh, happy birthday.” He gave you a curt nod and turned to walk into the kitchen.
A small smile spread across your face, and you sighed once more, “Today isn’t my birthday, metal man, the code is my birthday.” You propped one of your elbows on the couch to look over the back of the couch at him. He stood against the small metal sink, arms crossed. His large hands grasped his biceps on each side of him. The Mandalorian made the sink look like he stole it from a child’s playset. 
Once your gaze landed on him, his shoulders slumped. The T-shaped visor looked away from you and towards a map displayed on the wall. Silence ensued over the space. You too glanced at the map—yet there was nothing particularly noteworthy about it.
Mando’s visor pivoted on his shoulders and returned your gaze. After a few seconds his helmet crackled to life, “You’re getting a shooting lesson tomorrow morning.”
Your brows furrowed together and slanted downwards. “Ugggghh. I thought I told you I was good for now,” you gritted out. You let your elbow give out from underneath you and you flopped back down onto the couch cushions. 
A rumbling noise came from over the back of the couch. Footsteps followed. The heavy boots Mando wore sent muted dunks your way—then they ceased. A black T framed by silver entered your view yet again.
“I’m not good with it. Tomorrow morning after you eat,” Mando finalized.
You maintained “eye contact” with him after you rolled your eyes. Instead of staying awake—sore—and putting up with his banthashit, you willed your body to get up and to one of the wooden doors on the right side of the safehouse. Bending down, you scooped your bag onto your shoulder. Hopefully the room was the fresher.
A few paces. The turn of a doorknob. Creaking door opened. A sink, similar to the one in the kitchen, welcomed you with—metal arms? Either way, you were glad to be able to get to clean yourself after a long day. The heavy backpack slid from your shoulder and onto the floor in front of the silver sink.
Turning to close the door, you look up and Mando’s stare is directed at you. An eyebrow of yours raised, directed at him. He began to saunter over to the door next to the freshers’. His bag hung from a large, closed fist at his side.
His frame passed the threshold, making the rectangular entrance appear much smaller. A heavy object hit something soft. Hopefully Mando was finally laying down so you could be left alone. You paused for a couple seconds to see if the heavy footsteps would resume—but nothing.
Relief flooded your body, giving you the idea to close the door and get ready for the night. Water washed away the remnants of soil, tiny pieces of bark, and fragments of shed leaves from your skin. Liquid that once ran dark down the fresher drain steadily turned clear. Your body was a sponge, sucking the warmth from the water into your bones.
You finished your pre-sleep routine and ventured over to the room that contained the beds. Calling it a bedroom was too homey for this space. It was more of a room bunk beds would be kept in at camping lodges. Except there were only two adult-sized beds. And Mando’s confusedly still-silver frame covered most of the bed he chose. He laid on the mattress like someone was giving a eulogy—for him.
Peeling your gaze away from the Mandalorian’s mummy-like body, you peeled back the blankets and shuffled onto the mediocre mattress. You faced away from Mando, getting a nice view of a generic forest picture framed on the wall. It was the only decoration in the room.
“Night, metal man,” you murmured. He was already asleep, why not tease him again?
The helmet crackled to life.
“Metal man earned you one lesson. Say it again and you’ll earn another,” the words gritted out from the beskar helmet.
You laid in your bed, wide-eyed. Not knowing what to say, and honestly too tired to have this conversation, you opted to say nothing. After a couple moments, you heard shuffling from over your shoulder. The helmet crackled once more.
“Night.”
Your eyes drooped once your brain knew that social interaction was no longer required for the night. The pillow beneath your head lulled your slumber closer and closer.
“Ruus,” came from behind you.
Too tired. So sleepy. You’ll ask in the morning.
You woke up to birds chirping. Their calls and songs came in through your cracked bedroom window. Naturally, your brain deciphered the individual calls.
Cheep. Cheep. Cheep.
Shrrrrrk. Shrrrrrk.
Ki-ki-ki-ki-ki-ki.
A common house sparrow, a buzzard, and a finch.
You shuffled around in your bed seeking a couple more minutes of comfort before your alarm inevitably went off. Mattress providing a soft cushion of support for your body, pillow delightfully cold against your face, and your eyelids heavy, your body absorbed your surroundings and let them influence you. Everything influenced you to stay the fuck in bed. Shifting in and out of consciousness, your blurry dreams pulled you further into a deeper slumber. 
Dawn quickly approached, signaling for the birds to scream at each other that they’re awake. Bird calls blared through the air like tiny sirens. The rays of sunlight shone through the slits in the window blinds.
The extra-loud bird sounds snapped you out of your dreamlike state. Your gaze was trained on the warm glow of sunlight seeping into the room. Everything was natural. Ethereal. In sync and calm.
BEEP BEEP BEEP
Dank farrik. Whipping the duvet off your body and swinging your legs to let your feet touch the ground, you hurriedly zipped open your bag to find the holopad. Once your hands found it between clothes and your notebooks, you clicked it on. The bright screen made your eyes squint at the device. Clicking the screen once more, the alarm was silenced. Now that the blaring ceased, your mind began to catch up to your surroundings. 
Oh kriff, the alarm probably woke up Mando. Your voice was a whisper, “I’m sorry if that woke yo–.” You turned towards his bed and the silver frame of his body was no longer there. Once you noticed his absence, you quieted yourself and listened for any noise. Nothing.
But then you smelled caf. 
Your brain put two and two together. Your thoughts slowed down. After a second, you rummaged in your bag for a change of clothes and your toiletries. Once your outfit was changed, you strode over to the door and aimed to enter the fresher.
The wooden door opened to reveal Mando sitting on the couch, reading something on his holopad. Hopefully the helmet muffled any sounds you could make. You took one sock-clad step over the threshold. Then another. And another. Only a couple more until you reached the other door.
“Morning,” Mando’s speech crackled.
You turned towards him, holding up a hand, offering a quick, “Morning,” back. He didn’t say anything afterwards. Slunking into the fresher, you closed the door behind you and began your morning ritual. 
Mid-teeth-brushing, you remembered last night.
“You’re getting a shooting lesson tomorrow morning.”
Fuck.
Well, wouldn’t Mando remind you the moment he saw you in the morning. You didn’t even set one foot inside the safehouse before he demanded the code for the door. Maybe he forgot. You can only hope.
The wooden rectangle swung on the hinges, opening the fresher. You stepped out and made your way to the kitchen. Before you entered the pantry covered space, you glanced over Mando’s shoulder to see what he was reading. His gloved finger clicked the holopad off before you could get a good look. Silver beskar filled your vision as he leaned forward to place the holopad on the empty table in front of the couch. 
You continued to the kitchen, too hungry to care. Reaching into a cabinet, you retrieved a mug, then poured a generous amount of caf into it. In the adjacent cabinet were ration packs and miscellaneous hiking-friendly snacks. Trail mix. Jerky. Protein bars. Cans lined one section of a shelf—in case anyone wanted to craft their own meal, instead of tearing open a ration pack.
Being Nevarro’s best botanist had its perks, and one was that you helped Karga set up these safehouses. So your favorite ration packs were always in stock.
You reached for one and opened the pack, eager to satiate your stomach. Your fingers found the lip of a drawer and pulled, revealing small piles of cutlery in a wooden organizer. The same fingers danced over the utensils, determining which one you preferred. Opting for a spoon, you took the utensil and fed yourself generous spoonfuls. Hiking did a number on your hunger, plus you needed the energy.
After a few sips of your caf, finishing half the mug, and a ration pack, you leaned against the counter and observed the back of Mando. His large frame nearly spanned across an entire couch cushion. Silver donned his shoulders and traveled its way down his arms, towards his hands. He spread his wingspan across the couch, exaggerating his size—not that he needed to. The Mandalorian’s leather-clad fists also donned beskar on top of them. One of his fists flexed and relaxed in a slow rhythm. 
Bubbling began at the center of your stomach, threatening to boil over into the rest of you. Heat bloomed near your face at the sight of him.
Nope. Not happening.
You peeled your gaze away from his figure and went to wash the mug. Thoughts wandered and yours landed on how Mando still hasn’t mentioned the lessons. Maybe you got off this time, you got lucky. Warm water poured over your grasp. Suds coated the shiny surface of the ceramic drinkware. The faucet let out a steady stream of water, and it dribbled against the metal lining of the sink. Soundwaves from the water traveled to your ears, which blocked the sounds of Mando’s footsteps approaching the kitchen.
You shut the faucet off and turned to place the mug back into the cabinet. The Mandalorian’s towering beskar figure standing in the space between the living room and the kitchen made you gasp in a lungful of air. 
The modulator in his helmet crushed the tone of the sentence he spoke, “Let’s go, time for your lesson.”
Shit.
“You’re holding it wrong,” Mando stated sternly.
You sighed and rolled your eyes at him, “I’ve been holding it for, like, ten seconds. Not even.” Instead of focusing on the black T stamped on his silver helmet, you shifted your attention to the stump of a fallen tree. It was covered in moss and mushrooms, decaying. The fallen trunk with dense branches sprawled out on the forest floor behind the stump. Light could barely make it through the thick foliage.
Metal man insisted that the lesson should take place at a location far from the safehouse, “to keep it hidden, in case anything hears the blaster shots,” he reasoned. You supposed that it wasn’t a bad explanation, but the hike before your lesson was challenging. Mando guided you through the forest for so long, you thought he forgot about the lesson. But he didn’t. And this lesson sucked.
You were having more fun looking at the ground around you. A couple different leaf shapes popped out at you from below. Flowers were scattered throughout the area, and you matched them to their respective leaves, giving you quick identifications. 
Mando used one of his gloved fingers to tap you on the shoulder. The gesture returned you to the present moment from your resentful thoughts. His leather-gloved hands gripped his own blaster. It was much larger than yours, yet his grasp consumed the handle of the weapon. Another broad, gloved hand covered the one gripping the handle. 
Your hands attempted to match him on your own blaster. It was clear that you were struggling. Eyes in slits and brows furrowed, your gaze repeatedly shifted from his grip to your grip. Fingers stumbled to find their rightful places. Instead of giving up, you settled on something that sort of resembled the position his hands were in. 
His helmet tilted downwards at you and cocked to the side, another expression of, “really?” This gesture seemed common with him. Metal clicked onto metal when Mando re-holstered his blaster. Then, his hands were on your blaster, giving the weapon a slight tug to release it from your grip.
You thought he was going to demonstrate on your considerably smaller blaster. Instead, he grabbed the barrel of the blaster and pointed the handle at you. His other hand reached for your wrist. Worn, warm leather slid against your skin. A wide palm rested against the back of your hand. Thick fingers formed a loose—but stern—grip around the base of your palm. 
His hand was so warm. And strong. Every movement was done with purpose and confidence. The grip he had on your hand guided yours to the handle. Once you grasped the metal you expected him to let go, but his hold remained. Small flecks of light glinted off the barrel of the weapon when Mando turned your wrist.
Light shined off the helmet as well. He leaned down to check if your fingers were in the right places. Spotting an incorrect placement, he used his other hand to nudge a finger downwards and onto the handle. He nodded, “Good.”
The short praise sent heat flying towards your face, and you willed for it to sink back down. His thumb shifted on your wrist, giving you slight goosebumps. How could his fingers be that thick? And his hands so strong? What would they feel li—.
You backtracked in your head. Nope. You didn’t want to go there. You had one hundred days in this forest with this guy, and you had a job to do.
Mando took your other hand with his other hand, and placed it on top of the one gripping the handle. The hold he had over the new hand tightened. In exchange, your own grip tightened over the handle.
“This hand,” he tightened his grasp once more, “squeezes down on this hand,” he rasped as he shook the wrist holding onto the warming metal. Each squeeze threatened the bubbling in your stomach to evaporate into the rest of your body, but you repressed it. Managing to control your pointless butterflies, you did as he explained, and the hold you maintained felt better than it did previously. 
As you raised the blaster up towards your eye level, Mando stepped away. Shutting one eye, you looked down the barrel and at the old tree stump. Your arms were both steady and relaxed. Remembering only the second half of Mando’s lecture from earlier, you spaced your feet shoulder width apart, and squeezed your grip around the trigger.
A bolt shot out of the end of the silver barrel and into the top of the tree stump—much higher than where you aimed. Crackling came from your right, “The piece of metal at the end of the barrel needs to line up with the notches above the trigger.”
You let out a heavy exhale, that information was in the second half of his lecture, “That’s what I did,” you told him. He let out an exhale in response, but his was in amusement, “Well, you didn’t hit the center,” his head jerked towards the stump to make his point.
He stood with his hands on his belt, shoulders back, with one knee out. Chrome plated armor gleamed from the sun coming in through the forest's canopy. His dark leather and clothing contrasted the bright metal. Without seeing his face, you knew he had a smirk on it. 
You huffed as you turned towards him, “If it’s so easy, why don’t you do it?”
He gave you his signature head tilt towards the side, “You know that I would hit it,” he stated.
Honestly, you knew he could. The man is fully decked out in beskar armor and carries several weapons with him at all times. But you were fed up with the slight smugness he exuded. “Do it,” you challenged him.
Before you could even register he was doing so, he pulled his blaster from its holster. With a firm grip and confident aim, his blaster bolt hit dead center into the tree stump. Just as quickly as he pulled it out, he re-holstered his blaster and looked at you. 
His incoming responses went through your mind, “It’s because I don’t suck,” “Don’t even bother,” “Why’d you buy a blaster in the first place?”
“Just try again,” his helmet gritted and the black T shook from side to side, “I’ve just been doing this longer than you have. It takes practice.”
Without thinking, you responded, “And what is ‘this’?” The Mandalorian gave you a stare—not like it wasn’t always a stare—but his helmet didn’t move a bit, unlike the usual tilts and shakes you had been getting. 
“If by ‘this’ you mean shooting, then I’ve been shooting since I could hold a blaster. If you mean my profession, my occupation has required shooting since I’ve been an adult,” his voice stated, sounding like churning gravel.
Both of your eyebrows lifted and your eyes widened. You tried to hide it, but you probably failed. Only a few professions in the galaxy required shooting all of the time.
“So you’re a bounty hunter?” You asked with confusion, your mouth semi-dry.
Mando nodded, “Yes, now try again,” he pointed towards the stump.
‘Okay cool, we’re just going to gloss over that one?’, you thought. Instead of voicing your inner monologue, you raised the blaster once more. The metal lined up with the notch and you squeezed the trigger. Your shot landed half a meter above Mando’s. It was far from his shot, but much closer than your previous one.
“Better. But you flinched,” Mando critiqued. His gloved hands rested on his hips and his visor bored into you. 
Trying again, the notch lined up with the metal as you peered down the barrel. Instead of holding your aim and then getting ready to fire, you fired as soon as your barrel lined up with the center of the stump. Energy left the end of the blaster and shot into the decaying wood. It landed about fifteen centimeters above Mando’s.
You heard crunching on the ground as the Mandalorian walked towards you. Lowering your blaster, you pointed the barrel at the ground. Maker, if he showed you how to hold the blaster again, you were going to lose it. Once he reached you, he stood in front of you, hands clasped in front of his belt buckle.
The helmet crackled to life, “Good job. Those were better than my first shots,” he stated plainly, then turned, “Let’s get going.” Before waiting for your response, he continued on into the dense forest.
The section of the forest you just entered was darker than any other area the pair of you had been in previously. Light barely made its way down from the forest canopy. Shade-loving plants bathed in the lack of light. Small rodents scampered from shrub to shrub, picking the fruits off of their stems. Scuttles were heard in all directions, creating a chorus of sounds influenced by food-web interactions. 
Mando decided to lead the way. His helmet remained on a swivel as he constantly scanned the area. You had been this way before and knew there was nothing harmful, it was just dark and ‘scary’.
Then the scuttles stopped. And in response, Mando stopped. Which made you run right into the back of him. “Ufff!” You let out as your chest collided with his back. Rough, black fabric scratched against your face. It smelled like wood and musk, but in a good way. Did he usually smell like that or was it just the forest?
You pushed yourself off of him and stayed behind. Mando held a hand out to his side in a, ‘stay behind me’, signal. Everything froze, and left you freezing with it.
Then you felt it.
The ground shook softly. A steady rhythm of shakes became increasingly more intense. Trees sensed the waves too, as their leaves rattled above. You looked downwards and noticed that Mando retrieved his blaster from its holster. His stare was locked forwards. Almost as if he was looking beyond the dense foliage into the distance.
Dun. Dun. DUN.
Each shake caused your feet to vibrate in your boots. And then they stopped. In front of you, the large silhouette of a creature made its way through the foliage and towards you both. You squinted into the darkness in an attempt to identify the creature.
And Mando fired his blaster.
138 notes · View notes
wheneclipsefalls · 3 months
Note
Would you be willing to write a chapter where Neteyam gives Kxolo a lap dance? hehehe 😏😏😏👀👀👀
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Pairing: Omega Aged Up Neteyam x Alpha Male OC
Masterlist AO3
Warnings: eplicit NSFW content, omegaverse, established relationship, power imbalance, aged up characters, anal, dom/sub dynamics, stockholm syndrome, not an exhaustive list. MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!
Important note: This drabble takes place in the future in the Ma Neteyam universe, after the first book.
A/N: Thank you for waiting so long! You'll have to be patient with my writing on this one. It felt like word choice and I were duking it out, but I had a lot of fun writing it. If you enjoy it, as always, comments reblogs and asks mean the world to me and motivates me to write more! Enjoy<3
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Kxolo shifted the feathers laying across his shoulders again. Wearing the ceremonial clothing had always been an honor and one that the alpha never took lightly but right now it felt as if the material was going to suffocate him. Still, he couldn’t let the appearance of his annoyance shine through. Especially not on a day like today. His birthday. 
A day where the entire clan had come together and decided to throw a festival lasting from mid afternoon until deep into the night. He knew he had Neteyam to thank for many of the details that went into such an occasion. His sweet omega had been running rampant for the past moon cycle, organizing every little surprise and delight in secret until the big day. More times than one he had found the boy huddled in the healer’s tent to speak with his cousin in hushed whispers. 
Try as he might, Neteyam had been relentless in keeping every morsel of this day a surprise and truly he had to admit that it had been perfect. His favorite food, people, music and location all rolled in together in spectacular celebration. 
Kxolo subconsciously ran his thumb over the new smooth leather of his knife sheath. The same one that Neteyam had woken him up with this morning as a gift. His little mate couldn’t wait another five minutes before nervously presenting the hand crafted gift. His old sheath had been completely thrown aside and forgotten in favor of this personalized one, something he knew would continue to be the case. However, before he had the chance to thank his mate properly, they were interrupted by friends already putting into play the first part of the day’s festivities 
It had been a real strain to put on a wide smile and act like his closest friends weren’t being the worst cock block imaginable. 
As much as he loved the effort and true love that had gone into the celebration it was also the main thing that had kept Neteyam busy and away from their hut for the majority of their days. The boy had been zipping back and forth across the village with only small kisses to give before slipping from his grip to do the next task. 
The last time Neteyam had wiggled himself off of the alpha’s lap amid passionate kissing, Kxolo had been dangerously close to insisting on canceling the lavish events just so he could have his omega back for more than five minutes. However, he could never do that. Not when Neteyam looked up at him with those golden eyes that sparkled with excitement and mischief as he once again denied Kxolo’s request to be filled in on details. How was he supposed to take that away from his little love? 
“Brother, I can tell that extra year has already aged you into an old man.” Pulo settled beside him on a stump, handing over another wineskin full of strong drink. The party continued forward with a blurry of crowded dancing and intoxicated youth slipping off to hide their drunkenness. 
He considered going over to reprimand them, but resisted. 
Let the boys have some fun. It’s a party after all.
“I fear it is this mysterious concoction from Epok that has brought me there.” Kxolo responded but took another swig regardless. Even with his experience drinking the alcoholic fermented fruit, he had to admit that this was the strongest batch Epok had made in years. He made a mental note to keep the substance away from Neteyam. No doubt the sweet boy would be toppled over within a few sips. 
“Soft as a flower, you’ve become.” Pulo teased, earning him a playful jab to the ribs. “Your little omega is already running circles around you.” 
Kxolo’s eyes shifted back over to where Neteyam was continuing to dance without a care. It was a good look on him. A rare sight to behold, the eldest Sully child letting himself go. So far it had been the Olo’eyktan’s favorite part of the night, especially when Neteyam rolled his hips sensually to the beat of the base drum. At some point however, the dancing had turned into such erotica that Kxolo became ever more conscious of any wandering gazes. 
He knew pushing Neteyam to Vamai would come back to bite him. 
“He’s been doing that for weeks.” 
“Ah, I see.” Pulo mused. “Someone missing their one on one time?” 
Kxolo’s eyes shot like daggers to his chuckling friend. Leave it to Pulo to tease him on his birthday without a hint of remorse. However, Kxolo couldn’t deny that he appreciated how easily Pulo could read his emotions. Many times they required little words to communicate with one another. 
“Wait, does this mean you didn’t like our little surprise this morning?” Pulo let out an overdone gasp, hand placing over his heart with a feigned wounded expression. “Surely our mighty Olo’eyktan would never wish to be away from his People.” 
Kxolo rolled his eyes before swinging them back to his dancing omega. 
“Of course not.” Another swig of alcohol and it burned just as much as the first. 
His internal pouting, however, was cut short when Neteyam stumbled over towards him. Not willing to let the opportunity, or rather omega, slip away, his arms reached out and snatched the boy onto his lap. Neteyam’s drunken giggle rang through the air as he allowed himself to be manhandled across the Olo’eyktan’s muscular thighs. 
“There you are.” Kxolo drawled out along Neteyam’s ear. Pulo’s little snort was ignored as he continued to run his flat nose over the column of his mate’s throat. 
“You stopped dancing.” 
“I enjoyed watching.” Kxolo reviled in the way Neteyam still blushed at comments like that, even after all this time being mated. He nosed at the rising tint blossoming over his cheeks. 
“You’ve liked your birthday then?” Neteyam attempted to turn his face and get a good look at the male but his alpha was already nuzzled into the crook of his neck. 
“Mmm very much so. It’s perfect.” The feathers magically no longer itched as he was embraced with the sweet warm scent of his love. He basked in the swirled of essence that had been oh so missed over the last few weeks. 
Neteyam on the other hand apparently had decided this distraction would be the chance to grasp at the wineskin in Kxolo’s hands. The alpha just barely managed to whip it away before those small fingers could clasp around it. 
“Ah ah, this one’s not for you, baby boy.” Kxolo struggled to hold in the deep chuckle at the sight of Neteyam’s pouting, scrunched up expression. It was clear the boy was already tipsy from the watered down communal alcohol. One swig would be enough to swirl him into incoherency and for sure then their night would be over. “Trust me, you don’t want it.” 
To prove his point further, the open bottle was brought under Neteyam’s nose. Instantly the omega scrunched up even more and turned away. Kxolo’s laughter rumbled against the boy’s back. 
“I asked Epok to make the drinks but if you don’t like-”
“It is perfect. Mawey, sweet one.” 
Neteyam visibly relaxed but a hint of that mischief still shined through. 
“So perfect that you won’t let me try it?” Despite Neteyam’s batting lashes and lip bite Kxolo was compelled to once again deny his request. Instead he opted to playfully nip at that trapped bottom lip. Neteyam blushed a deeper red, pushing back at his alpha’s shoulders. He was not easily swayed, instead wrapping his arms around the boy's waist and pulling him closer until the omega couldn’t escape the persistent kissing. 
Contrary to Neteyam’s outraged little squeak, his tails flickered with excitement. 
“I suppose here is as good a place as any, but do let me know if I should herd the children away, brother.” Pulo smirked but it was short lived as a harsh yank pulled at his braids. Pulo’s mate did not back down from his responding hiss. Resaal flashed him a cunning smirk.
“Leave them be, won’t you? Olo’eyktan is not required to let your jesting slip by, no matter how long you have known him.” Resaal scolded but it only lit a fire in Pulo’s eyes. 
“I too am neither required to put up with your bossy attitude, paskalin.” 
“So you think.” Resaal purred, back away when Pulo reached for her hips. With confidence bursting from the seams she gracefully lured the other alpha away from the pair, a welcome intervention in Kxolo’s opinion. He made a mental note to think twice before sending Resaal away with a scavenging party for months on end. He loved his friend, but Pulo often became restless without his mate to challenge that fire out of him. 
“Sweet peace.” Kxolo sighed before diving back in to leave kisses along Neteyam’s throat. 
“Wait wait, I have a surprise for you.” 
“So many surprises, baby boy. You have done enough.” Kxolo leveled his voice to sound sweet and endearing but he couldn’t deny that a part of him dreaded another celebratory surprise, especially with his omega already so sweetly perched in his lap. So close to the goal and yet his own birthday seemed to be getting in the way of what he wanted most. 
“You will like this one. I promise.” It was the waver in Neteyam’s voice that caught his attention. Hesitation clearly spanned over the omega’s features and it made his own tail perk in alert. “Come.” Neteyam demanded, taking the alpha’s larger hand in his own to pull him away. 
Finally realizing that his wishes were about to come true, Kxolo let himself be pulled along. Excitement ramped higher as the omega began leading them towards the outskirts of the party. He did, however, not miss the way Vamai and Neteyam exchanged a secret look, the other omega nodding in response before running off to speak with the musicians. 
The only thing growing faster than his curiosity was Kxolo’s lust as he abashedly watched his mate’s hips side to side with each step. It had been too long, far too long and Kxolo suddenly remembered what it was like to be an insatiable teenager again. He hadn’t so desperately yearned for physical affection from Neteyam since the first few weeks he had stolen the boy away. 
It was an experience he had no desire to repeat, every day feeling like a battle as he held himself back from acting on his most carnal yearnings. 
Neteyam led them deeper into the forest until they were out of sight of any clan members but the music still rippled through the trees. 
When Neteyam gently pushed his shoulders down until Kxolo was sitting on a stump the alpha wasted no time in pulling his mate onto his lap and connecting their lips once more. He allowed his hands to wander greedily over the omega’s soft skin, squeezing at the plump flesh of his exposed ass. 
“You are right, I do enjoy this surprise, little one.” He breathed out, barely letting their lips disconnect for a second. Neteyam on the other hand was slowly starting reel back and fumble a sentence together.
“Wait, yawne. This is not-” He gasped when Kxolo teeth sunk down on the exposed hickey lining his throat. “N-not the surprise.”
The alpha simply hummed in response, already getting to work on bringing the bruise back to its full color. 
“Wait w-wait wait.” Neteyam rambled before somehow wiggling out of the alpha’s possessive grasp. Kxolo went to stand up and follow but he was gently urged to stay seated. 
“Neteyam,” Kxolo drawled, voice on the edge of a deep growl. 
“Just stay for a second.” Neteyam pecked his lips but that nervous demeanor had returned. Curiosity once again took the reins so Kxolo reluctantly listened to his orders. It was rare to see the boy so demanding and he was not about to scare its appearance away. 
Neteyam took a steadying breath, nerves already flashing over his angelic features but the omega’s hands told another story. They skated over Kxolo shoulders and along the vibrant feathers. He was ready to bask in the touch without the barrier so Kxolo rashly shrugged the traditional attire off.  For a moment he swore he could hear his father's rough voice scolding him.
An Olo’eyktan must always remember his status.
An Olo’eyktan does not carelessly toss such symbols.
His fingers  twitched, tempted to place it back over his shoulders but then there were Neteyam’s small hands tracing every vein along his neck and collarbones. His father’s brash voice floated away and there was only Neteyam. 
Only Neteyam.
The one person that Kxolo could truly be himself with. The only person that was able to wash away the burdens of leadership simply with his soothing presence. 
His father was not here, it was only them. 
Kxolo’s hands did their own exploring, marveling at the boy’s tapered waist and curved hips. Each male petted with a reverence that sung out like a silent prayer of appreciation. Although he could already feel his member straining against his restricting loincloth, Kxolo allowed himself to sink into the slow build up of the movement. 
Neteyam’s hips swayed, but this time not from simple walking. Instead they whipped to the beat of the drum. In perfect accordance with the music, that beautiful form curved and rolled sensually. He had seen Neteyam dance before, especially when under the influence of strong drink, but this was different. 
It was unashamed.
It was erotic. 
One leg swept backwards in a drawled semicircle along the ground before placing his foot on the other side of Kxolo's thigh. Now practically straddling the alpha’s leg, Neteyam dragged his inner thighs along him. It rippled a shiver up Kxolo’s spine and when he looked up to find Neteyam blushing profusely, it only tempered another flare in his heart.
His perfect omega. 
It was undoubtedly new territory for both of them. The closest thing that the couple had participated in were a few forbidden sensual dances at celebrations. Although Neteyam's nerves were ever present, the boy continued to grind and roll to the rhythm perfectly. 
His smooth transitions spoke volumes of the time that Neteyam had no doubt put into practicing this specific dance. Thinking of the omega practicing such an erotic dance Kxolo knew it had Vamai’s name written all over it. 
He went to rise and join his mate in this explicit dance but Neteyam shook his head once more, making the male sit down with a huff again. A flurry of emotions raged through him and when Neteyam turned the other way so he had an obstructed view of his perky backside, Kxolo swore he was on the edge of ruin. 
His sultry gaze couldn’t stay away from the beautiful display before him, not with his omega’s sweet scent now evermore present than before. It infiltrated the Olo’eyktan’s senses until there was nothing left but the throbbing of his loins. 
Kxolo went to pull him back towards him but this time Neteyam required little persuasion as he bent to hover his backside over his pulsating erection. Instead of sitting fully, the omega swiped his tail and ass gently over the area, creating figure eight patterns. It was a soft type of torture, the smallest touches creating an ravenous rush through him.
As he gripped those hips and watched the way bioluminescent lights bounced off of Neteyam’s swerving body, Kxolo swore this was the longest song in existence. The harder Kxolo dug his fingers into Neteyam’s flesh the higher the omega’s confidence slowly grew. Gone was the blossoming blush, now replaced with a flushed countenance and blown out pupils. 
Kxolo was sure his little mate would deny it but there was surely a part of him that enjoyed torturing his alpha. It was evident in the way his eyes sparkled every time he had to refuse Kxolo’s demands to sit down fully. 
He was tempted to stamp that mischievous fire out, to show what happens when naughty omegas taunt their alphas, but he let him continue. No matter how impatient and downright desperate he was becoming, the Olo’eyktan did not want to associate retribution with Neteyam’s new attitude too quickly. There was something all too satisfying about the push and pull of such interactions; not that he could let Neteyam know that. 
Kxolo swore he no longer had control over his hands as they wandered over his body incessantly. It was extremely rewarding however when a sharp tug to Neteyam’s nipple had that familiar gasp rising to the surface. The omega stuttered slightly in his movements but didn’t let it deter him for long. 
He was starting to question whether or not this was a surprise or a punishment when Neteyam stood back up and slipped out of his reach. The hanging crystals making up his shall worked perfectly to glisten in the moonlight and bring attention to every movement. 
A mental image of ripping those beads off with his teeth came to the forefront. Of course Neteyam would be upset. He would also be upset at Kxolo messing up the intricate designs painted across his chest and thigh, but he would recover. The Olo’eyktan was willing to take the consequences in any form that it came, as long as it meant having his way with the boy finally. 
It began to grade at his nerves this game of ‘you can look but you can’t touch’. At one point he swiped out to catch Neteyam’s tail but the omega tripped slightly and glared back at him. 
Kxolo was on the edge of pinning the boy down when Neteyam finally sashayed back over to him. Sitting backwards on his lap and circling those sinful hips once more, Kxolo did not wait to be invited to have a taste. He bit down harshly at the back of the omega’s left shoulder. 
The responding small mewl was a greater symphony than the entire song combined. It laced the contours of the drums increasing build in a perfect masterpiece. 
Neteyam struggled to continue the choreographed movements as his mate’s groping became strategically calculated. Those long fingers tickled and swirled along his most sensitive and private areas, ones that only his alpha knew by heart. When a warm palm slid over the front of his loincloth to cup him, Neteyam jerked back with a little shriek.
“That is not part of the show.” He managed to quip back. 
Kxolo simply chuckled, hand now slipping underneath the waistband.
“Perhaps the encore then, little one” 
“Let me finish.” Neteyam whined, hips already bucking upwards on the contrary. 
Kxolo’s hot breath tickled at his ears until those soft lips were tracing his right ear’s shape. 
“You will finish, omega. As many times as I decide.” That dark promise sealed his fate within a breath. It was endearing to watch the way Neteyam still squirmed and insisted on getting to the end of the song, even as his small cock twitched with each stroke against it. 
He would make it up to the boy later, let him do the dance to his heart’s content, but Kxolo was tired of waiting. 
Even an Olo’eyktan has a limit to his patience. 
“You keep trying to run off, rude little thing.” 
Neteyam whimpered, muscles in his legs finally giving out as the pleasure became too much. 
“Just b-been busy.” He exhaled out an exaggerated breath, finally letting the alpha dispose of his loincloth and get to work. “Wanted to make it per…ah…perfect.”
“It is perfect and so are you. Now stop trying to steal my omega away from me. Otherwise I can’t promise to always play nice.” 
Neteyam started to rut up against the male’s hand in rapid motion, but all that did was rub him back against Kxolo’s member tortuously.  
“Or fair.” Neteyam gritted out between clenched teeth. 
Kxolo chuckled darkly before tucking his chin over Neteyam’s right shoulder, giving him the perfect view of his mate’s twitching cock in his grasp. When Neteyam began to shudder and shake, eyes clenching shut with a cry, the Olo’eyktan simply cood out mocking praises and kissed his sweaty temple. 
It became ever so clear that he was not the only one wound up after so much time apart. 
Neteyam’s body had become familiar terrain for the alpha. Even a shift in his scent could trigger how close his omega was to finding sweet relief. It was a fact he took advantage of quite often because there was nothing more addicting than pulling out new sounds from his mate’s lips, that is besides the feeling of Neteyam’s tight heat milking him for all he is worth. 
“P-please c-can I…hmm….need to….”
“Perhaps.” Kxolo mused, placing another kiss to his shoulder blade as he sped up the pace. 
“Daddy please!” 
A feral grin spread over his lips.
“Cum for me.”
Neteyam followed the order almost simultaneously and when he did Kxolo gave in to his intrusive thoughts. With sharp fangs he gathered a chunk of beads and strands and ripped them away violently. The beads went flying in every which direction but now there was a no layer of protection between Neteyam’s soft skin and Kxolo’s torment. 
When his fangs sunk into the supple flesh, Neteyam shook uncontrollably.
He took his time nursing and sucking at the mark until his mate was whining and trying to pry Kxolo’s hand off of his overstimulated length. 
The omega’s chest heaved up and down in a rapid pace but Neteyam’s wafting scent told him everything he needed to know. It spoke of that still ever rising desire, a flame that was easily recouping to match Kxolo’s own. 
“Soaked for me already.” Kxolo whispered, rolling his own hips up until Neteyam’s arousal was staining the front of his loincloth. 
“Alpha…” Neteyam reached back, fingers trying to grasp onto something; anything. They found a hold on the alpha’s waistband and that was all the encouragement Kxolo needed to rip off chuck the garment away. 
Were this any other night the Olo’eyktan would watch that neediness grow, appreciate every shift in Neteyam’s demeanor until his omega was so fucked out that pleas bled from his lips uncontrollably. 
Tonight, however, Kxolo found himself just as insatiable. Every minute without that tight hole wrapped around him was another of the alpha’s torment. Neteyam only made matters worse as he began to rub back against him, almost as if he could find a way to slip his alpha’s cock inside of him just from grinding. 
Kxolo’s hand snatched the front of Neteyam’s throat so fast it expelled all the oxygen from his lungs in a burst. Eyes rolling backwards, he rolled his head backwards to rest against the alpha’s collarbones. 
“Baby boy.” He growled. Using the other hand he reached beneath them and positioned the tip just barely at Neteyam’s slick entrance. “You’re going to take all of me, aren’t you?”
Eyes glistening with tears, Neteyam nodded hazily while pushing back.
Not good enough. 
“Say it.” 
His bulbous tip slipped just past the rim and Kxolo had to bite back a plethora of curses.
“Daddy I want to take all of your cock. Please!”
With one smooth thrust, Kxolo seated himself fully inside of the omega. 
Who was he to deny such pretty pleas from his little mate?
“Great Mother, Neteyam! How did this little hole manage to get tighter?” His chest rumbled fervently and Kxolo once again felt another oral fixation coming on. The pretty marks covering Neteyam’s shoulder captivated him endlessly. Refreshing the color could never hurt. 
“R-ready. Ready ready ready.” Neteyam babbled. 
It was tempting to tease it out longer but Kxolo’s hips seemed to have another idea in mind as it took all of his concentration to not buck up into him. When he did, however, the result was electrifying. That clenching cavern fit him so perfectly, letting him carve out the space until there was not a doubt that this angel of a being was his. 
No matter how many times they intertwined so intimately, nothing could ever erase the awe that washed over him every time Neteyam allowed him inside. The awe that they had finally made it, that they were mated and one before Eywa. 
It was as if Neteyam could read his mind because he was quickly reaching back behind him to connect their neural queues hastily. As with every other time, warmth crashed through him boldly. It was the greatest satisfaction to feel his mate’s pleasure strumming through the bond, to know that he was pleasing the love of his life. 
Their movements quickly became messy, spiraling out of control as Neteyam tried to rise up and down in tandem with Kxolo’s thrusts. When their lips found each other once more it was nothing but animalistic, a frenzy of urgency that neither was willing to live with. Had a clan member found them now, Kxolo was sure they would be shocked to see their naturally composed Olo’eyktan so untamed, unable to gather the slightest restraint. 
That was the beauty of it.
Neteyam from the very beginning had brought out a side of him that he could express nowhere else. 
Those special pieces of him belonged to his omega and his omega only. 
Kxolo had to admire Neteyam’s rebounding sex drive. His fragrant essence was already tipping towards that natural burst of ecstasy quickly. 
“Look at you. Already to the edge and ready for more.” Embarrassment was far from Neteyam’s mind, simply content to soak up the praise without objection. “What did I say?” 
He plummeted to that special bundle of nerves and Neteyam couldn’t hold back his vibrant cry. 
“As…..nahh….as many times as you decide.” 
“Good boy.” Kxolo’s eyes shut on their own accord as his hips snapped upwards frantically. “Don’t hold back on me. Want that glimmering cum painting you inside and out.” 
“Yes Daddy.” 
If the trembling was any indication his mate was just as close to coming undone as he was. A new resolve sparked within him. The Olo’eyktan increased his efforts tenfold but then there was a small hand grasping his jaw. Neteyam’s tongues forcefully pushed its way past Kxolo’s lips and to the alpha’s surprise, claimed that area with ease. Their groans danced heatedly into the kiss until it was hard to recognize which taste was his own versus Neteyam’s.
The omega’s gummy walls squeezed around him just as Neteyam bit down on his lower lip. The pain rippled into a beautiful harmony with the height of his pleasure as they both reached peak together. Kxolo’s body took control, arms reaching out to make sure that not an inch of space could be formed between them. 
Pelvis flush against the omega’s ass, warm seed painted those inner walls. 
Through the bond he could track the moment Neteyam felt that primal claim. Even when Neteyam’s own release died down he was forced to ride out his alpha’s release through the bond. It shook him to the depth of his core. 
Kxolo slumped forward against him, body shaking from the aftermath. 
Several long moments passed with only heavy breathing to fill the silence. It was borderline painful to still be seated inside of such a tight channel but Kxolo didn’t dare to allow a gap between their bodies. 
His stamina would ramp up again and once it did, he didn’t want the slightest chance of his omega teasing and running off again. Not that it would be possible in the first place. From the way Neteyam laid back against him completely limp, he figured it would be out of the question. 
“I hope you aren’t too wrecked yet, baby boy.” He mocked, lips flickering up into a grin.
“As if.” Neteyam’s confidence wavered in its execution as his voice still trembled.
“Glad to hear because I know one last birthday gift you can give me.”
That perked Neteyam up, their eyes meeting finally. 
“My omega all too myself.” 
Neteyam’s lips parted. 
“No more chores, no more late night tasks, baby boy.”
Neteyam giggled softly.
“I hope you don’t have any plans tonight or tomorrow because the only place I want to see you for the next day is in my bed.” Kxolo didn’t hold back the possessive growl lacing every word. 
Their tails wrapped together until they were intertwined. 
“Deal.” The omega whispered before connecting their lips in a soft kiss. 
“Happy Birthday, Ma Kxolo.”
“Happy indeed.” 
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Taglist: @itchaboi-itchyboy @kayjaydee17 @theunfortunateplace @4ashes-stuff @neteyamssyulang @tallulah477 @perfectprofessorloverapricot @namjooncrabs @creepytoes88 @young5643-blog
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mediocre--writing · 2 years
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Chapters: 26/26 Fandom: The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types Rating: Not Rated Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Reader Characters: James "Bucky" Barnes, Steve Rogers, Wanda Maximoff, Natasha Romanov (Marvel), Sam Wilson (Marvel), Reader Additional Tags: Angst, Self-Hatred, Complicated Relationships, Break Up, Mental Health Issues, future smut, Bucky Barnes Feels, Avenger Reader (Marvel), Originally Posted on Tumblr, Bucky Angst, Bucky barnes x reader - Freeform, Bucky Barnes Recovering, Unplanned Pregnancy, romantic relationship between a therapist and an ex-patient, mentions of injury, mention of gunshot, medical procedures that might be poorly written, Birth, Sappy, dad!bucky Summary:
You and Bucky used to be in a relationship. Feelings were hurt, you left. Now, it’s been two years and you’re back. You both will handle the reunion well, won’t you?
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carlos-in-glasses · 1 month
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Thank you for the tag most heavenly H's @honeybee-taskforce and @heartstringsduet 🩷
Today in BJ Fic, Carlos is having a little crisis. Thought I'd share because of this perfect gif set I reblogged the other day):
“Cooper said the same thing tonight.”
Cooper.
Cooper.
“Cooper?” Carlos asks breezily as the sharp rocks in his stomach start to roll. “His name’s been popping up a lot lately.” He spins a finger as if to count infinity mentions.
TK has mentioned him a few times over the course of the week, always with a smile and glowing praise.
Hearing another man’s name come out of TK’s sweetly smiling mouth has roiled Carlos’ blood since they first got together. Always, it’s so obviously harmless. Usually, it leads to spectacular sex – during which Carlos reminds TK whose name should be on his lips. But something about this feels different and Carlos isn’t sure why.
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Open tag and tags below:
@cold-blooded-jelly-doughnut @im-overstimulated-and-im-sad @sznofthesticks @lemonlyman-dotcom @welcometololaland @reyesstrand @bonheur-cafe @strandnreyes @literateowl @my-little-tilly @paperstorm @safeaswrites @orchidscript @goodways @strandnreyes @theghostofashton @liminalmemories21 @ladytessa74 @herefortarlos @thisbuildinghasfeelings @fallout-mars @carlos-tk @vineofroses @louis-ii-reyes-strand @wandering-night19 @alrightbuckaroo @lightningboltreader @rmd-writes @whatsintheboxmh @three-drink-amy @freneticfloetry @never-blooms @chicgeekgirl89 @sanjuwrites - if you want to share/haven't already, with no pressure ever! ❤️🩷🧡💛💚💙🩵💜
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ducklooney · 1 month
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Happy birthday, Carl Barks!
On March 27, 1901, near Merrill, Oregon, Carl Barks was born, the famous writer and artist of Donald Duck comics who would turn Donald Duck and his family into something spectacular, starting with Duckburg and the Duckverse universe. He had a difficult childhood and was constantly looking for work until he started working for Disney from 1935. He worked on writing scripts for many classic Donald Duck shorts, and from 1942 he started writing and publishing the comic book "Donald Duck Finds Pirate Gold" and since then he has been writing famous comics that will be read all over the world and that Donald Duck will be even more famous. Although Al Taliaferro invented Donald's nephews, Huey, Dewey and Louie, Gus Goose, Grandma Duck and Bolivar the dog, while Walt Disney Donald and Daisy Duck, Barks remains famous for perfecting these characters and inventing one of the most famous characters without that the Duckverse wouldn't even exist. They are certainly Scrooge McDuck (created in 1947), Gladstone Gander (created in 1948), Beagle Boys (created in 1951), Junior Woodchucks (created in 1951), April, May and June Duck (created in 1952), Gyro Gearloose (created in 1952), Cornelius Coot (created in 1952), Goldie O'Gilt (created in 1953), Flintheart Glomgold (created in 1956), Magica De Spell and Miss Quackfaster (created in 1961), John D. Rockerduck (created in 1961), Abner Whitewater Duck (created in 1962), as well as Neighbor Jones, Soapy Slick, Pig mayor, Matilda and Hortense McDuck and other characters.
He stopped working with comics in 1967, but continued to draw special artwork and developed a duck style that influenced other artists and writers to follow him. Although he established his own rules for the Duckverse and the duck family, he never established it as true canon and let other authors make up their own. He strove for excellent humor (sometimes dark humor), and his comics are proof of that, even though conclusions about adventure comics were drawn from it. Those comics will later greatly influence other media, not only for Disney, but for the creation of the Indiana Jones movies. Influenced a lot on Osama Tezuka, the founder of manga. It also influenced the creation of Ducktales in 1987. He traveled around European countries and met other Donald Duck comic artists and writers. He especially influenced Don Rosa, Romano Scarpa, William Van Horn, Guido Martina, Carpi, Vicar and other authors. He married three times and left two daughters. He died on August 25, 2000 in Grants Pass, Oregon.
And now the best pictures of him in memory of the great Donald Duck artist who won The Will Eisner Award Hall of Fame in 1987. He was also called The Duck Man and The Good Duck Artist. If you love this comic artist and writer, feel free to like and reblog this and tell me what your favorite Carl Barks comics are. Happy Birthday Carl Barks!
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Designer baby
Content - age regression, cg!tony, cg!pepper, designer labels, wealth (obviously), dummy use, fruit, bottles, cuddles, tooth rotting fluff, don’t like don’t read.
Summary - some days your mommy and daddy can’t help but spoil you.
Authors note - I don’t even remember how I started writing this I just felt the need to be spoiled with the nonexistent money I don’t have so I wrote about people that would, reblogs are greatly appreciated I worked quite hard on this one, I hope you enjoy<3
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Tony stark and pepper Potts were not short on money.
Very far from it.
You knew that they would go to spectacular lengths to make sure you were well taken care of but you never thought that they would go this far.
As soon as you stepped foot out of your bedroom this morning you were greeted with the sight of glowing fairy lights, new toys, some new clothing and tony and pepper laying out a selection of personalised clothing.
What on earth were they up to?
“Good morning baby” you heard pepper say brightly walking over to you and taking you hand in here leading you over towards tony.
“Morning mommy” you yawned skipping over to tony keeping hold of peppers hand “hey skippy” tony chuckled lifting you off the ground and placing you on his hip.
“Morning daddy, what’s this?” You giggled kicking your legs to signal towards the empty boxes and packages strewn across the floor “well angel we thought we could have a spoiling princess day today, how does that sound”
He didn’t even have to ask, you loved days like these and it was very clear to them by the excited squeal that you let out.
“I think that answers our question tony” pepper chuckled picking up some of the discarded boxes and putting them to the side.
───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────
A few hours later you had played with each of your new toys more than once, and named all of of your new soft toys, your favourite was a small black kitten that you had decided to name shadow.
There were only 3 problems, the first one was you were so caught up in playing that you had forgotten to have any fluids or anything to eat, the second one was that you hadn’t gotten changed out of your pajama’s yet and the third was you felt in desperate need of your dummy.
This was the only problem about days like these, the two of them had done so much for you and you didn’t want to bother them with anymore.
You didn’t have long to stew in your thoughts because a few seconds later your tummy let out a light growl.
“Oh no, tony it looks like we’ve forgotten to feed our little baby!” She gasped getting up from her space on the floor “it looks like we did, I think we also forgot something else” he chuckled gently poking your pajama trousers with the telly remote.
“How about I go and get the little rascal something to eat while you get her dressed” pepper chuckled placing a kiss on your forehead before making her way to the kitchen.
───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────
A few minutes later tony had dressed you in your favourite Burberry jumper and a pair of black leggings and fuzzy brown socks.
Making your way back into the kitchen on Tony’s hip you saw pepper place down a bowl of your favourite fruits. After tony helped you into the wooden chair he picked up a tea towel and placed it into your jumper as an extra precaution in case you spilt anything.
After he helped spoon the fruit into your mouth he went over to the sofa where another package was awaiting.
“Do you wanna open this one princess?” He asked signalling for pepper to come over “yes please” you smiled reaching for the package that had been loosened by tony so you wouldn’t need to use that much effort.
Pulling out the package you saw a white box with a new baby bottle inside, an Armani baby bottle.
This one was clearly peppers work they intricate design up the top of the bottle would have caught her eye.
“Thank you!” You squealed reaching up to give a cuddle to your mommy and daddy listening to them chuckle proudly at your manners “it’s okay angel we’re glad you like it.”
───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────
While tony washed and heated up your bottle pepper brought you to lie against her chest on the sofa while she gently eased the dummy into your mouth while you waited for your bottle.
“Thank you mama” you whispered behind the shield nuzzling into her blonde locks “it’s okay my love” she whispered back placing a kiss on your earlobe.
“The wait is over your royal highness” tony said in a very poorly executed posh accent presenting you with the bottle before passing it to pepper making you shriek with laughter.
Once she replaced your dummy with the bottle you immediately began drinking down the milk, after a few minutes you felt the effects of the milk catch up with you and you felt yourself grow tired.
“It’s okay little have a little nap if you need it you’ve had a big day” tony smiled looking at you with loving eyes.
Once you finally succumbed to sleep tony and pepper were left in silence looking down at you “god she’s adorable” pepper laughed watching your nose wiggle in your sleep.
“She sure is, our little designer baby.”
───── ⋆⋅◇⋅⋆ ─────
Taglist - @bootlegmothman420 @littlephia @whippedforhongjoong @youngstarfishdinosaur @patchesofwork @buggyateabug @autisticbeauty @friendlyneighborhoodkillerbunny @sparklybuck @2-gay-possums-in-a-trench-coat @hopelesswritergall @stuckysgirl27 @sleepyprinc3ss @chaotic-little-witch @looksthatkilledd
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madarasgirl · 8 months
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A Night for Hunting Ch.9- Courtship
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T/W: Alucard(Ultimate) x F!Reader, fluff alert!, romance, heights, “kidnapping.” Lonely, mild vampire. Alucard is a shithead and you can’t even be mad.  Words: 4120 On AO3
Thank you for over 250 kudos! Not to mention all the comments and (mostly private 🤣) bookmarks and subscriptions! And the likes and reblogs too! The reception this story gets continues to astound and humble me. An incomplete fic getting all this attention! Who would have thought?! This chapter is one of the ones I wanted to write for several months. It took so long to post because I saw a scary movie trailer (“The Exorcist”) and then I was too spooked to sit in the living room alone to write at night for over a week.  I hope you guys enjoy it! As of this chapter, this story is now my longest piece of writing.
“This place is incredible.” Everywhere you inspected continued to inspire awe. From the paintings on the walls, to the details on the ceilings, or the shininess of the floors, the restaurant was lavish in the most tasteful of ways from every angle.
You finally accepted Alucard’s invitation to the Shangri-la. Fortunately, you never took him up on his prior offer to feed you properly every night. You were like a duck sitting in a nest of swans. You could dress like the rest of the patrons and act gracefully enough, but this sort of grandeur would never suit you.
A portion of the restaurant was sectioned off for your private use with Alucard, which brought about another problem. While you were thankfully shielded from the prying and admiring eyes of other guests towards your companion, you were also stuck in a public setting where you were forced to interact with him. 
You were on a date with a freaking vampire. This just wasn’t how you envisioned life would turn out.
Most of the meal consisted of him watching you eat while he sipped wine from an engraved crystal glass set on a stem of gold. Such extravagance. You weren’t one to complain though. The food was divine, the complex flavours melted into your tongue and you nearly moaned as you swallowed. 
“I see you are enjoying your meal,” he observed. The light reflected off the orange lenses of his sunglasses at such an angle that you couldn’t see his eyes through the glare. But his grin was ever-present.
Honestly, it didn’t even seem like the vampire was attempting to impress you with the fancy scenery. He was completely at ease and disinterested in the setting, like he was born into grandeur such as this. Opulence was simply a natural backdrop he was used to being surrounded by.
"Soo…vampires can turn opposite sex virgins into baby vampires, but if they bite a non-virgin, they become zombies instead?"
"That is correct."
"Who decided on this? Why does being a virgin change anything?" Maybe he was a pervert who was insecure about his sexual prowess.
The said ‘pervert’ chortled and set down the wine before his glasses followed, mirth glittering in those liquid pools. They were the colours of the autumn leaves that filled the lush treeline with spectacular shows of foliage a month ago. "You will never cease to amuse me little one. I assure you, I didn't create this rule, but it is the one we must abide by."
Damn vampire getting in your head again. The lack of mental privacy was aggravating, especially when you recalled the night he glimpsed your moment of insanity, when the briefest thought of intimacy with him flitted across your mind. 
"This rule is stupid," you told him defiantly.
The grin stretched wider, the tips of two sharpened canines poking through. “I am inclined to agree.”
You had the feeling he was reading your mind again and while you didn’t want to verbalize how much it bothered you, knowing it would predispose him to doing it more frequently, you couldn’t keep your mouth shut.
“Stay out of my head! You’re being rude!” You stabbed a morsel of meat with a fork.
He merely chuckled at your reaction. “I can attempt to refrain from doing so, but humans are so fascinating.”
“You were human! Have you forgotten what that was like? Anyways, you are planning on turning me into a zombie?!” If that was the goal, with his superpowers, he could have done so already, with or without your consent. But that didn’t make sense because he saved you from a crowd of ghouls!
An elegant brow lifted. 
So you elaborated. “You keep trying to convince me to sleep with you and you just drank my blood! You want to bite me!”
Alucard howled with laughter and pinned you with a pointed look. “You truly are fascinating, little human.”
You bristled with indignance at the way he found humour in everything you said and did, irritation making your skin turn hot. What was the point in coming here tonight if all your date did was mock you? Ever since you met this creature, it was one supernatural encounter after the other. It was all made worse by how he was privy to your myriad of thoughts. Slamming a vexed glare back to him, you found the vampire with his face propped up on a fist, staring at you with a soft expression. A tiny smile tilted the corner of his lips.
He was teasing you. And you fell for it. You felt like a foolish schoolgirl as your ire deflated, but goodness, how can anyone look so gorgeous? It was too unfair. Your fork slipped from your grasp and fell to the floor with a metallic clatter, not that you wanted to stick cutlery in his face anymore.
One moment he antagonized you and the next he gazed at you like that. You swallowed your displeasure and sat up straight, eager to recover some face.
"Then how about you? Do you have a sire?"
Something changed in his expression. His eyes dulled and the smile fell a fraction, as if he really didn't like thinking about this aspect of his past. Recalling how comfortable he was with the brutal slaughter of the undead, you realized he must have an extended history with violence and bloodshed. Alucard was dangerous, and you didn’t mean what he was capable of doing to you. It seemed there were secrets in this world larger than the existence of vampires and ghouls. Concern about what you were getting yourself into if you spent more time with this vampire crossed your mind. 
But as you studied his face carefully and his mild gaze slid back to yours, suddenly you felt guilty for asking about things he wasn’t ready to share.
“Um, you don’t have to tell me anything if you don’t want to.”
"To be or not to be, that was the question," he finally murmured cryptically.
Huh? Shakespeare?
Was Alucard referring to his decision to turn, to become a vampire? But you doubted someone so sophisticated would miss the deeper meaning behind those words and misquote Hamlet. 
…Did he too wish for death? Ironic for someone who already died once. His choice of words bothered you, but you weren’t in the headspace to ponder this point further at this time. The orangey-yellow in those mesmerizing pits swirled slowly as he studied you. The silence stretched long during this intimate moment, when you felt closer to him than he probably ever allowed anyone. You didn’t want to let it simply slip away.
“Do…do you ever miss being human? Or seeing the sun?” You ventured cautiously, not wanting to push him away when he was letting you view this other side of him, so different from his usual cockiness and menace.
“Silly child, you do not comprehend the preciousness of your humanity, nor the curse of so-called immortality.”
Your mouth opened to protest, but no, he was right, you never stopped to ponder your humanity. It was such an intrinsic part of you that was taken for granted.
“Alucard, how old are you?”
His expression once again filled with amusement despite his gaze remaining warm. “I have seen over five centuries come and go.”
Okay that was really old. Much older than you assumed. Your eyes dropped from his piercing stare as you thought back to all those times this ancient creature chased you around and attempted to woo you. Was it strange for something so old to court someone your age? Then again, were there many other ancient vampires for him to choose from? Human standards probably didn’t apply any longer.
“I haven’t lived through the ages like you, and I don’t know where I was trying to go with this conversation, but maybe I was just trying to say that I miss the day. It’s…sometimes difficult to always work at night, especially now that it’s winter. The nights are long –it’s dark when I leave home and dark when I return. And then my body is so confused once the shifts are over and too soon, it’s time to switch back to a daytime schedule.”
Alucard leaned back and crossed his legs, his chin tilting up as he regarded you. “The garish light of day will never compare to the beauty of the black night. Her generous velvet wakes the imagination and makes the senses come alive.”
“The blanket of night hides creatures such as yourself,” you stated flatly.
In his eyes, a mysterious light shone. His attention was entirely devoted to you. This vampire was genuinely interested in your words. You squirmed in your seat under the intensity of that sparkling gaze, totally unprepared for the weight of his scrutiny and you wondered what he saw in you. Unlike him, you weren’t made to live in darkness.
“When the sun rises above the horizon and beats back the darkness, or when its dying rays fade away for the night, it paints the most dazzling gradient of colours across the sky. Even at high noon, the world comes into sharp contrast through a sea of cerulean. Daylight is warm, bright, comforting.” 
“...”
You sighed in exasperation. “Do you truly not miss the beauty of daytime at all?”
"No. I despise the sun. It is a mercy that each day must die." 
You laughed sheepishly. "Ahaha. I guess debating this point is moot. You're a vampire after all."
--------------------
The rest of dinner flew by smoothly. Alucard could wield his words like a dagger, yet there was artistry in the way he spoke, an old world pattern to his speech that at times sounded like riddles holding profound meaning beyond your understanding. His intellect was captivating. You were surprised by how pleasant the conversation was when he wasn’t intentionally seeking to get a rise out of you.
He wasn’t so bad at all.
Besides the server who occasionally came to check in on the two of you, you were alone. Before you knew it, you reached out to brush away the stray strands of hair hiding an eye that gleamed like the fiery sun he so hated. Your hand twitched when you caught what you were doing, yet you don't pull away. Neither did he. After a moment, your hand dropped to cradle his cheek.
The vampire’s eyes widened fractionally before dropping to half-open. He sighed and leaned into your touch. His skin was cool, but it wasn’t unpleasant to touch. You traced circles on that strong jaw that captivated you the first time you got a good look at him in your kitchen.
Alucard was crooning and purring, nuzzling his face into your palm. The back of your fingers on your other hand rubbed up his throat to stroke his chin. 
Distantly, the server returned with something you asked for. You couldn’t remember what it was, but they left promptly when Alucard’s gaze fell on them. His hand gripped yours to keep it on himself when you tried to pull back.
"More. Touch me," he demanded. 
So you played with his hair, twirling the lustrous tresses between your fingers and massaging his scalp. You boldly traced a finger down one of his fangs, grazing the sharp tip with the lightest touch. He stayed very still for you with his lips slightly parted and lidded eyes glowing fiercely. 
It occurred to you that he was very much like a cat. He liked to nuzzle his face on you, purred like an engine, and was constantly sniffing around. He loved body heat and being pet, and had slit eyes that often blinked slowly at you. 
Would he let you? You lifted a finger at him, making the rumbling vampire follow it curiously with his head tilted. You gingerly pressed the pad to his nose before pulling away. His eyes opened up before a content grin spread over his face, and he brought his face closer to bump the tip of his nose against your fingertip again.
--------------------
It was getting late, but Alucard insisted on having you stay up with him, stating there was somewhere he wanted to show you. Imagine your shock when he immediately scooped you into his arms before you could rescind your begrudging agreement and began leaping impossible distances from building to building. The wind cut through your jacket and chilled you down to the bone. It was not meant for the weather of these late winter nights. 
Your hair billowed into your face and filled your mouth. You barely heard yourself shriek through the howling wind as you clung to the vampire’s shoulders while he took you soaring through London from up high. You peered down at the sea of lights at your feet and gulped nervously. The ground was so far away! 
This wasn’t the kind of commute I had in mind! You desperately thought to him.
His smirk was devious when he gazed down. You are safe with me. He told you with a squeeze to your legs for reassurance.
With no other warning, you were suddenly thrown into the air and you screamed bloody murder at the loss of your anchor as you started to free fall –the wind whistled into your ears and slipped past your splayed fingers. The loose ends of your clothing flapped uselessly as you plummeted back to the earth…only for your flailing body to be quickly bundled into Alucard’s red duster to protect you from the winter chill. 
He was grinning like a maniac as you landed back in his arms with a squawk. You stared back in betrayal with huge frightened eyes and resisted the urge to smack him, but only because you didn’t want to risk him dropping you again for fun. 
Still he ran, jumped, and landed on various structures, sometimes sideways or even upside down. The rapid changes in direction was disorienting and made the cutting wind slap against you, so you clenched your eyes. The laws of gravity did not apply to him. With your arms trapped within the heavy jacket, neither were you able to grab onto him for safety as the two of you hung from another overpass while Alucard traversed its underside. You were forced to trust the vampire not to let go of you. 
Somehow, you barely felt each landing before he jumped again. The longer you lay in his embrace, the more apparent it became that the ride was surprisingly smooth. 
Land. Jump.
You must now be nearing the outskirts of the city. How did he know where you were going? 
You felt the derisive snort in your head. Humans today, so lost and helpless without your electronic devices. He stopped on the rooftop of a house.
"Look there, little one," his fingers weaved a pattern in the air and you followed their trail without seeing the constellation. "Do you see that? That is Ursa Minor, which may be hard for your mortal eyes to visualize with the city lights, but that bright star at the end is Polaris. It has many names dating from antiquity. You might also know it as the North Star or Guiding Star."
He looked at you expectantly like he wanted to tell you more, but sighed and hopped off and continue his jumps when you stared at him blankly, unable to pinpoint exactly which specks in the sky he was pointing at.
Gradually, you abandoned the light pollution of the city and the sky became inky black. There was no longer any light at your feet, only the darkest abyss that was entirely opaque. Your racing heart and gasping breaths eventually eased during Alucard’s leisurely journey through the city. Together, you sailed through the sky, ascending and falling in an endless loop. It was intimidating, but the vampire’s grip was strong. You huddled into his chest, at last feeling secure cradled like treasure in his arms. 
You were blind to what was below, but up above, the vast, glittering expanse of sky stretched to infinity. Billions of twinkling stars smiled down. You considered the planets that surrounded them, as well as the moons that orbited those. You thought of the galaxies out there, yet knew what was visible was only a tiny window into the universe that existed. It was all so close when Alucard leapt into the air again, and you reached out to grasp it. 
You were so small in this world. The existential humbling was profound, yet also exciting. The night sky promised adventure and filled you with vigour. The wind still stung your face, but you screamed in joy, at the freedom granted by the stars themselves as you drifted amongst them.
That exhilaration ground to a halt when you finally arrived at your destination with Alucard.
A private airport? 
--------------------
“What are we doing here, Alucard? Where are we going?” You faced him in alarm.
“Faroe Islands,” he instructed the pilot waiting by the aircraft as he sauntered up the ramp to a jet with you in arms. You started kicking your feet in protest.
“I-isn’t that Denmark? Y-you’re just going to spirit me away to another country in the middle of the night?!”
The vampire finally set you down on a plush seat while he settled in the one across from yours. You jumped up and attempted to unroll yourself from Alucard’s duster in a frenzy, only to get tangled in the lengthy garment pooled around your feet and nearly tumble over.
“I don’t have my passport!” Any reason to dissuade him from his crazy idea. This was madness!
“Don’t worry about it.” A wine bottle floated up to arm’s reach and uncorked itself. He tipped it into a long-stemmed glass and offered it to you. You didn’t take the drink.
“You are afraid, Sweet?” He cocked a brow at you with a challenge.
You sputtered and glared at him with disbelief. “What? You’re acting like you didn't suddenly drop this trip on me! You can’t just steal me away to a different country! And I’m going to freeze to death! Do you know how far north that place is?! When are we coming back tonight? Are we returning to London tonight? Is this even allowed?!”
The vampire paused to consider, “Integra may be displeased, but there will be no issue,” he chuckled to himself.
You continued to gawp at the ridiculousness of the situation before opening your mouth to argue again. This was definitely not how you envisioned any first date, even with this creature, would proceed.
“You are fretting over nothing, Dear.” He placed a finger to your lips gingerly and strapped you into the seat for takeoff, still mostly bundled like a burrito in his jacket.
Eventually, your indignance and dismay passed. It was just like Alucard to do whatever he wished and force whoever was part of his plan in line. ”We’re going to fly past all of Scotland, and not even visit Edinburgh Castle or Loch Ness. Or the Isle of Skye!” You pouted wistfully. 
The vampire sipped his wine, his legs crossed and posture casual, until you decided to join in. After all, he already had a bottle to himself earlier. Wriggling out of the encasing scarlet prison, you took hold of your glass with a stiff fist and gulped it down in one mouthful, much to the vampire’s amusement.
You continued to grumble about being dragged out to the middle of nowhere in the freezing cold and dead of winter. 
Two hours and several glasses of wine later, the jet was landing. You felt the pressure in your ears. Alucard stood and headed for the side of the jet where the storage was, revealing a bundle of winter attire. He returned to offer everything to you.
You walked out together onto a snowy field atop a cliff, overlooking…well, it was too dark to see anything. No doubt the sight would have been spectacular if this was during the day. Waves crashed down below from what you heard and the skies were clear.
“So? You brought us here. Now what?” Displeasure at being kept awake at this hour made you snippy. The feeling was accentuated by the frosty puffs with every breath you took. There was no way Alucard brought you to the middle of nowhere only because he could, right? Right?
”Patience. They are supposed to appear tonight.”
The jet rumbled in the silence. Staring in the direction of its beam of lights, you rubbed your eyes to refocus and made out vague shapes of something. Edging closer in that direction, you gasped at the dramatic mountainous landscapes in the distance. They were marvelous, even in the dimness. The jet lights died abruptly, leaving you in darkness, except it wasn’t black. The canvas that made up the heavens came into even starker contrast than in the suburban cityscape. Glimmering starlight splattered every visible inch in the sky.
This was also a desolate location. You were far from any other souls, in a world belonging to only you and him (minus the pilot). You hunkered down in your jacket and boots, glad to finally be in proper winter attire, then looked back at Alucard with a questioning stare after glancing up to admire the speckled expanse again.
The air was too crisp. The tip of your nose stung and was beginning to run. It was freezing. The wind was even worse than the subzero temperature. Burying your gloved fingers within the crook of your crossed arms, you sniffled, resisting the urge to wipe yourself on the back of the hand. 
Your eyelids started to droop. What time was it? It shouldn’t have been long since you arrived.
“There.”
Your eyes shot up and were blessed by the most miraculous vision. A translucent layer of green light undulated in the heavens. The ribbons of light swayed ever so slowly, a ghostly apparition haunting the land. Your eyes widened at the extraordinary show, a feeling of tranquility overcoming any prior exhaustion, and your lips fell open slightly in awe. Coherent thought ground to a halt.
How can anything in the world be so breathtaking? You took back every negative comment you made during the trip here. Everything Alucard put you through tonight was worth experiencing the Northern Lights.
"Isn't it remarkable?" The vampire also appeared to be at peace, a small smile gracing his lips. When did he come this close? His large palms went around your hips as he found his place at your back. He unexpectedly placed a kiss to your neck under the scarf and you jumped from the frigid caress.
His affectionate laughter subsided as you huffed. “Rest assured, I have no intention of biting you. You will not become a ghoul with me.” His whisper sent cold air tickling your ears. He withdrew from your side to let you enjoy the view.
Having trusted him the entire night already, the vampire behind you was no longer a cause for worry. The lightshow remained enchanting. You basked in the carefree, electric dance of the auroras above and felt your tension releasing. This was transcendent. 
Your eyes finally adapted to the faint lighting. In this darkness, the aurora borealis casted a sublime glow on Alucard. His features were pale, yet refined. You blinked. His silky midnight tresses reflected the light’s radiance in a circle, almost like he was crowned by a halo. He looked like an angel.
What were you thinking? You weren’t.
You took the half-step needed to close the distance between you and leaned towards him, your head barely reaching halfway up his chest. But you craned your head way up to drown in those ruby irises, for the first time seeing him in a new light. Getting up on your toes, you initiated the kiss softly, tentatively. It was exploratory and chaste when you brushed up against his chest with a feathery touch.
His lips were cool and smooth and tasted like fine wine. Your fingers found their way into his lapels to tug him in as his palms found your hips. He was just too tall and your neck hurt. Starting with a light peck, like you were seeking permission, you deepened the kiss when he didn’t protest. Again and again, you pressed gentle kisses to his mouth.
It was an eternity until you pulled apart. There was no need for additional words. You turned to take in the heavens on earth again. His arm draped around your shoulder to pull you nearer and you leaned in with your face resting on his chest. His chin dropped on top of your head.
For now, this was enough for both of you.
~To be Continued~
Next Chapter- What Makes a Meal?
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