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grapesodatozier · 3 years

Text

so close to the real thing (closer than you think)

rating: explicit

word count: 6.8k

summary: Eddie's been pining over Richie for as long as he can remember. He loves everything about Richie; especially how much Richie loves touching him. It's a little inconvenient, though. Eddie copes with his pent up sexual tension by constantly checking a porn blog he's obsessed with on tumblr. This guy has the same type of body as Richie, he talks like Richie, his name is even Richie! It makes it all too easy for Eddie to pretend it really is Richie while getting himself off to all of the blog's content.

You'll never guess what he finds out when he starts sexting this stranger named Richie from his anonymous porn blog.

tags: friends to lovers, porn with feelings, love confessions, dom/sub dynamics, bi dom top richie, gay sub bottom eddie, the most oblivious pining idiots in the world lol we love them

notes: this is one of my more ridiculous ideas but I had so much fun with it lol. also as a note you probably should not approach people on the internet the way they do in this fic, but they're just v enthusiastic and everything here is v consensual!! still tho definitely don't take this indulgent fic as a guide on how to approach real people online lmao. okay have fun!!

read on ao3 or below!!

notsfw under the cut

Eddie Kaspbrak’s friends were his entire world; time spent with them meant everything to him. But he also really valued his alone time. He’d always been the sort who needed time to just sit on a grassy hill and watch the trains go by, to catch up on comics in his room, to get lost in Netflix shows or even just his thoughts as he moseyed around his apartment—one he live in by himself, for when these moods hit. He needed time to himself to unwind. And sometimes he unwound by scrolling through some porn blogs on tumblr with his hand in his pants.

There was one blog that he was particularly fond of. There were other blogs more catered to his personal interests, namely blogs that didn’t feature women like this one did. But there was a good balance of genders represented, so Eddie figured he could just scroll past those posts. This guy was worth it. His pictures were ridiculously hot, and his dirty talk was even hotter.

Also, his name was Richie. Which Eddie refused to acknowledge as part of the draw.

It was harder to ignore tonight. He’d been out with the losers, and Richie had just been so touchy. And there was something about the way he'd been talking; his voice was lower than normal, slower in a way that made Eddie’s stomach flip. And his touches had lingered, his hand squeezing Eddie’s hip slow, then lazily brushing against his ass as he dropped it. Eddie could hardly take it. He brushed it off as Richie just being tired from work, but god, Eddie wanted it to mean more. The hardest part was hiding how much he wanted Richie to keep doing it.

There were so many things Eddie wanted Richie to do to him. He wanted Richie to touch him harder, to grab him by his hips with both hands. Richie’s hands were so big; Eddie just knew Richie could manhandle him so easily, so roughly. He wanted to know what it would feel like to have Richie’s hands all over him, grabbing at his ass and his thighs, holding his wrists down, making him feel so small. While Eddie would never admit it, huffing at every short joke Richie made, but he loved being shorter than Richie. He loved how safe he felt when Richie held him. And he was dying to know how small he would feel with Richie looming above him, or sitting in Richie’s lap, bouncing on his cock. He wanted to hear Richie talking to him in that low, slow voice, with that condescension Eddie did his best to pretend not to be affected by. He wanted Richie to whisper in his ear and call him all those pretty names he always dropped so casually, all those sweet ones and also ones that were a lot meaner. He wanted Richie to want him.

But it was easier to think about it than to ask for it. He knew Richie had way more experience than him. Well, okay, maybe not way more necessarily, but they were starting their third year of college, and he hadn’t wasted any time. Eddie, on the other hand, hadn’t done anything more than hand stuff with someone else. The guys he’d hooked up with were nice enough, and hot enough, but they just… weren’t Richie.

He supposed this guy on tumblr wasn’t Richie either, but at least he was everything else Eddie wanted. None of his hookups had been so, well, dominant, and that was this guy’s whole thing. He was dominant and a top and into guys that looked like Eddie. He even kind of talked like Richie, and he was apparently pining over his best friend, just like Eddie was. It had him completely smitten. Plus, internet-Richie’s crush had brown eyes like Eddie, and he ran track, just like Eddie did. Internet-Richie had posted once about his dick getting hard watching his friend at his track meet, and Eddie had come so hard that night, his track shorts around his ankles, imagining his Richie thinking those things about him.

Eddie was in bed now, in nothing but his boxers and one of Richie’s old shirts that had been Eddie’s for a while now. Still reeling from the way Richie had been acting that night, he logged into his porn account on his phone and scrolled through his dash for a grand total of thirty seconds before going immediately to internet-Richie’s blog. A thrill went through Eddie’s body when he saw that he had just posted. He’d written, “god my friends gonna fuckn kill me with that ass, i wanna plow him so bad” then reblogged it and added, “reminder that my asks and dms are always open if any pretty needy little subs need help getting off. please come be sluts in my messages.” Eddie’s breath caught in his throat when he saw that there was a picture, too, one of him gripping his hard cock, his boxers pulled down just enough for Eddie to see the dark hair around the base of his cock. Eddie moaned at the sight. His cock was so nice, so long and thick and pink. And fuck, his fingers. They were so long and slim, almost as nice as his-Richie’s.

Eddie scrolled a little farther down, his heart racing. There were a lot of reblogs, but some original posts here and there, things like, “what i wouldn’t do to have a pretty guy drooling all over my cock rn,” and, “in the mood to get someone dick drunk. wanna fuck a someone so hard they forget their own name.” One that made Eddie nearly choke said, “want someone i can pump my come into whenever i want, over and over again. want a sub i can keep full of my come all the fuckn time.” That post had Eddie getting out his lube.

It also had him thinking about internet-Richie’s most recent post, his post about his DMs being open.

Eddie bit his lip and thought about it. He’d sent internet-Richie some asks before from his porn blog (his blog didn’t have his name on it, just the teddy bear emoji, since he privately thought the teddy/Eddie rhyme was fun and clever, and also it was cute), and he’d seemed plenty happy enough to respond then. Still, it felt like a much bigger step to DM him, to talk to him just one on one. But the more he read his posts, the more he thought about his-Richie and how he’d touched Eddie that night, the easier it was to convince himself to shoot his shot with this stranger.

Eddie just messaged him a simple, “hi,” with a heart emoji. It was innocent enough, but his heart was still racing.

Internet-Richie responded a lot faster than Eddie was expecting. Honestly he hadn’t been expecting a response at all. But he said:

hiya cutie (; ive been hoping youd message me

Eddie flushed. He couldn’t help but hear cutie in his-Richie’s voice—especially given how often Richie used the nickname. really? he typed back.

fuck yes, ur cute little messages make me so hard. i can tell ur a pretty little thing just from the way you type

Eddie was blushing deep. Pretty little thing. That was hotter than it should’ve been. He wanted his Richie to talk to him like that, in that deep, sleepy voice.

there’s no way you can tell that from some messages :P, Eddie sent.

His heart stopped at the next messages internet-Richie sent.

oh, u dont think so?

why dont u send me some pics to prove me wrong (;

Oh my god, Eddie thought, his breath coming short. His head swam at the thought of sending this guy nudes, of showing himself off to someone who clearly wanted to see him, who would know how to take care of him and fuck him the way he liked, a guy with his crush’s fucking name and body type and hands. It had Eddie’s cock hard and leaking, and he slowly slid a finger inside of himself.

But just because the thought turned him on didn’t mean he was gonna send this stranger what he wanted so easily, even if he desperately wanted to.

you’d like that, wouldn’t you?

He fingered himself open as he waited for a response, working his way up to two fingers. It was nearly impossible to ignore his cock, but he didn’t want to come before the conversation even had a chance to start.

fuck ya i would, internet-Richie responded. Then, in a second message, whats wrong baby? you shy? ill show u mine ;)

Eddie's breath caught. God, this guy even made stupid shit sound hot, just like Eddie’s Richie. This was unreal.

i’ve seen yours, Eddie pointed out.

ya and you musta liked it if ur messaging me rn

Eddie bit his lip. ...maybe

aw thats cute sweetheart. u know i can see all the needy little tags you add when u reblog my stuff right?

Eddie blushed. He’d kind of always hoped he’d read them, but he never thought he actually did. i didn’t know you read those

oh ya, read them, jerk off to them. bit of a size queen, aren’t you? ;) it’s cute. makes me so fuckn hard when u talk abt how u want me to fill you up

Eddie whimpered out loud, sliding a third finger into himself. Fuck, he wanted that cock inside of him so bad. But right now one of his toys would have to do, once he was stretched out enough. He sped up his fingers, getting impatient. Gathering up all of his horny courage, he sent, show me.

what, no please? only good boys who use their manners get dick pics babydoll

Eddie pouted and whined to himself, making quick work of sliding his hot pink vibrator inside of himself—well, as quickly as he could without hurting himself. He moaned as it filled him up, making pleasure spread deep through his body. Slowly pumping it in and out, he reached for his phone. please, he typed, please let me see? wanna know what to picture while i fuck myself with my vibrator. He even added the wide eyed pouting emoji to really milk the whole begging thing. He knew he’d been playing a little coy, but now with the way internet-Richie was talking to him he was getting desperate.

well fuck baby since ur begging ;)

Eddie held his breath as he waited for the picture, slowly rocking his toy in and out, savoring the feeling. He wished it was Richie doing it, wished it was his cock. The lines between which Richie blurred; he wanted to get fucked by either of them, both of them.

What Eddie received when his phone lit up was not a picture, but a video. It was short, just a few seconds of Richie’s hand dragging wetly, smoothly over his cock, but it had Eddie drooling. The room was dark, so he’d used a flash, and it made the mix of what Eddie assumed was precome and spit glisten as the swollen head of Richie’s cock disappeared and reappeared from behind his fingers. Eddie must’ve played it at least five times, fucking himself a little faster, before remembering to say something back. And to take a video of his own. fuck, I want you so bad, want you to fucking ruin me, he wrote back. A part of him couldn’t believe how openly desperate he was being, but he found that he liked it; he liked the way it made him blush, he liked the way it felt to beg, to ask for what he wanted.

Richie’s response came fast: show me kitten. show me how you want me to fuck your pretty little ass.

Eddie moaned at the pet name; casual little nicknames were such a weakness for him. He was already so far gone, just picturing Richie’s cock inside of him, picturing him stroking his cock to thoughts of Eddie. The attention had his cock hard and leaking as he thrust his vibrator even deeper inside of himself, pumping it in and out a few more times before rolling over and getting on his hands and knees. It was hard to take a video from this angle, but he wanted to show off his ass and hide his face. Plus, there was something so hot about having his ass in the air and his face shoved in his pillow, looking like the perfect image of someone desperate to be fucked. He loved the way it made him feel, loved the thought of being so open for someone. For Richie.

He ended up shooting a short video as well, about ten seconds of him sliding his vibrator slowly in and out of himself, letting out soft little moans. He was pretty pleased with the way it turned out, his hole pink and smooth and wet as it stretched around his toy. The angle was a little weird, showing a lot of his room once or twice when his hand slipped a little, but overall he thought his ass looked amazing, if he did say so himself. He sent it and said, feels so good. do you want me to go faster?

As he sent it, he got settled on his back, forcing himself to go slow as he fucked himself while he waited for internet-Richie’s response. It was taking longer than before, and Eddie was getting antsy; it was so hard to drag it out, to not get ahead of himself. But whatever Richie was doing, Eddie knew it would be worth the wait. Still, he pouted as his cock ached, begging for attention.

He almost jumped out of his skin when he heard a knock at the door.

He groaned to himself and stayed put, fucking himself even slower as he waited for whoever it was to leave. But then the knocking continued, loud and incessant and obnoxious, and Eddie knew exactly who it was. He also knew he wasn’t going to go away any time soon, which honestly made him smile and blush. Richie had terrible timing, but Eddie would never be upset to see him.

Reluctantly, he slowly slid the toy out and pulled on his shorts, leaving his shirt off. He still had a pretty obvious boner, but his horny brain did not mind the idea of Richie seeing it. So he strode lazily down the hall, shouting a performatively annoyed, “I’m coming!” Finally, he opened the door, cocking his hip to the side and giving Richie an expectant look. “Can I help you?” he asked, a small smile dancing around the corner of his lips. He had to fight off a smirk at the wide eyed look Richie gave him as he ran his eyes over Eddie’s body.

“Fuck,” he muttered lowly, his eyes trained on Eddie’s cock, which was getting even harder the more Richie stared. Eddie bit his lip and grinned a little, making doe eyes at Richie. But Richie didn’t meet his gaze—instead he brushed past Eddie, his mouth still hanging open as he made his way urgently toward Eddie’s bedroom.

“Richie?” Eddie asked, a little let down that Richie’s hands weren’t all over him right now. But hey, if he was heading to Eddie’s bedroom he figured that was at least the right direction. He closed his front door and followed Richie into his room, where he found him staring at the bright pink vibrator on the bed. As confident and horny as Eddie was feeling, that still made him blush. He was only human. Crossing his arms, he said, bashful now, “I was kind of in the middle of something.”

Richie looked over at him, his cheeks bright red under his freckles. Then he got a glimmer of that trademark shit-eating grin on his face. “Eds, you fucking slut,” he said, sounding both delighted and breathless. “You are so fucking hot.”

Eddie flushed and tried not to squirm, but he couldn’t help but press his legs together, his eyes brightening. Fuck, was this actually happening? Shit, he needed to think of something witty to say. “You gonna do anything about it?” Okay, that kinda sounded like a corny porn, but he had to give himself credit for even being able to form words just after his lifelong crush and personal wet dream had just admitted his attraction to him.

“I think I already have been,” Richie said, still grinning.

Eddie cocked an eyebrow at him. He couldn’t help but smile back. “Oh yeah? How do you figure that?”

Eddie was expecting a confession. He was expecting something along the lines of you think I don’t notice how you look at me? or did you really think those were casual touches earlier? What he was not expecting was for Richie to unlock his phone and hold it up, showing Eddie the video he had just taken, the video he’d sent to internet-Richie.

Oh. Oh. Oh fuck.

“Oh my god, that’s you?” Eddie cried in disbelief.

“You’re telling me you didn’t recognize this dick?” Richie asked, swaggering over to Eddie, clearly enjoying himself.

“How did you recognize it was me?”

Richie nodded toward the Thundercats poster on Eddie’s wall, then to the model train that sat on his dresser. “What other guy has decor like that and the ass to match?”

Eddie grinned and shook his head. “That doesn’t even make sense.”

“Well pardon me for not being especially eloquent when I’ve just learned that the guy I’ve been masturbating to since I learned how to and been in love with for even longer has been masturbating to me too.”

Eddie’s eyes went wide, all thoughts of getting fucked leaving for a moment. “You’re in love with me?” he asked, his voice as soft as his smile.

Richie was not a bashful person, but the little laugh he let out just then was close to it. “Have been my whole life, but thanks for finally noticing.”

Eddie shook his head and stepped closer, until he had to crane his head up to meet Richie’s gaze. “I love you too.”

Richie’s eyes widened behind his thick frames. Eddie had only seen that look in Richie’s eyes a few times before, but he never wanted to lose sight of it again. He always wanted Richie to look at him like that. But then Richie was closing his eyes and leaning down. It only took Eddie a second to get with the program, drinking in the moment just a little longer before letting his own eyes fall shut as he pressed his lips against Richie’s.

It started gentle enough, if deep and passionate and intentional. But then Richie’s hands were on Eddie’s bare waist, skin against skin, and Eddie was gasping into Richie’s mouth, his hands coming up and resting against Richie’s chest. He curled his fingers into Richie’s shirt as Richie ran his tongue over Eddie’s lips, just before pulling away. He laughed at Eddie’s indignant little whine.

“Oh, you mean you don’t want me to take off my shirt right now?” he smirked as Eddie tried to pull him closer by the offending fabric. Huffing, Eddie conceded and let go long enough to let Richie pull the shirt off over his head.

“Oh,” he said softly, his voice a little, awed moan as he drank in Richie’s chest. It wasn’t like Richie had never been shirtless in front of Eddie before, but Eddie had never felt like he was allowed to really look at Richie all those times. But now he could; now he could touch. And he did, running his fingers over Richie’s smooth, warm skin, over his acne scars and blackheads and freckles. “Fuck, Richie,” he sighed before pressing his lips to Richie’s collarbones, trailing them all over Richie’s beautiful chest.

Richie gave a breathless, almost shy laugh as he stroked Eddie’s hair. “Damn, Eds, never pegged you as a tits guy.”

“Oh, fuck off,” Eddie giggled, bringing his lips back to Richie’s. They both smiled into it, getting lost for a moment as Richie’s hands slid slowly down Eddie’s sides. His hands lingered on Eddie’s hips for a moment before he slid them further down and grabbed at Eddie’s ass, making him gasp.

“Is that any way to talk to the guy who’s about to rail you ‘til you can’t walk?”

“What’re you gonna do about it?” Eddie asked with a mischievous glint in his eyes. “Spank me?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you?” Richie smirked. He gave Eddie’s ass a playful smack, making Eddie gasp again and fall into him, needing more. Richie’s voice was dripping with adoration as he purred, “Little brat,” and pulled Eddie against him, kissing him again. Eddie went with it easily and happily parted his lips to let Richie lick into his mouth. Richie had one hand gripping Eddie’s jaw and the other on his ass, touching him in a way that exuded a command Eddie was desperate to follow. God, Eddie knew Richie had big hands, but they felt huge on him like this. It was dizzyingly hot. And the way Richie’s tongue was teasing his had Eddie’s knees going weak. His dick was throbbing in his shorts, aching to finish what he’d started, what had been interrupted. When he thought about it all—about playing with himself for Richie, about the video Richie had sent him, about all those things Richie had said about filling Eddie up—he felt himself clench down on nothing, desperate to get fucked. Desperate to feel Richie’s cock so deep inside of him.

“Richie,” he whined into the kiss, pulling on Richie’s belt loops, “please.” He pressed himself urgently against Richie and rutted shamelessly against his thigh.

“Fuck, you’re a needy little thing, aren’t you?” His voice was cocky and teasing, but there was an apparent undercurrent of wonder there as well.

Eddie shoved his face into Richie’s neck and whined, grabbing onto Richie’s wrists without even knowing what his goal was. “Richie,” he whimpered, sounding pitiful and ruined already.

“What do you want, baby?” Richie’s voice made it clear that he was enjoying seeing Eddie this wrecked, and that just made Eddie even harder. “Come on, tell me, use your words.”

Eddie squirmed as Richie held him close, but still not touching him in any relieving way. “I need you inside,” Eddie said, his voice high and soft as he squirmed in Richie’s grip. “God, please, Richie, need you to fuck me. Fuck me so hard I can’t even think. Fuck me like I’m your little toy.”

Eddie could hardly believe the words coming out of his mouth, and judging by the gasp he heard Richie let out, he’d caught Richie off guard too. But if the hard bulge in his jeans that brushed up against Eddie was any indication, he was apparently just as turned on as Eddie was. Besides, Eddie knew from his blog that Richie was really into that sort of thing too—and, apparently, really into the idea of doing those things with Eddie. The realization that Richie had been saying all those filthy things about him had him grinding against him with even more fervor, kissing his neck with a heated confidence. Richie moaned, and Eddie could feel the warmth of it spreading through him. “Yeah, sweetheart? You want to feel me inside you? You think you’re ready for me?”

“Yes,” Eddie sighed, looking up at Richie with wide, desperate eyes. He shivered at the new look in Richie’s eyes, the blue nearly entirely eclipsed by how wide his pupils were. He looked hungry for Eddie; Eddie wanted to feel it. “‘M ready, Richie, please, so open for you.” He looked to the toy on his bed pointedly, but Richie only gave a deep laugh.

“Oh honey, that’s cute that you think that little thing is gonna have you ready for my cock.” Eddie’s breath caught; that toy wasn’t small. Before he could gather his scattered brain enough to react, Richie was scooping him up and tossing him on the bed, the toy falling forgotten to the floor. Richie moved Eddie onto his back, and Eddie went happily, pliantly. Richie’s fingers were cool against Eddie’s burning skin as he hooked his fingers into the waistband of Eddie’s shorts, slowly dragging them over his hips and down his legs, tossing them to the floor. Eddie’s cock was dripping with precome, his chest flushed a bright red as he squirmed under Richie’s gaze. Eddie been dreaming of Richie manhandling him like this for he didn’t even know how long; he couldn’t help the way he reacted. And he especially couldn’t help the pleased little sound he made when Richie murmured, “God, you’re gorgeous, Eds.” Then Richie was grabbing him by the ankles, gently but firmly spreading Eddie’s legs, and Eddie let out the most pathetic, genuine moan he’d ever heard. “Fuck, baby, you sound pretty. You like when I spread you open?” Richie asked. He was smirking down at Eddie, but Eddie could see how flushed he was, could see the thrilled awe in his dark, hungry eyes as Eddie nodded.

“Richie, please,” Eddie whimpered. “I need you so bad.” He sat up, reaching for Richie’s belt, but Richie easily pressed him back against the mattress with a large hand on the center of his chest. The confidence in Richie’s dominance took Eddie’s breath away, and he stayed right where he was, nice and obedient, as he watched Richie get off the bed and slowly undo his belt, then his button and zipper. He took his time dragging his jeans and boxers off, enough time to let Eddie’s eyes linger on the reveal of the dark hair under Richie’s waistband. Then Richie’s cock was bouncing up against his stomach, hard and flushed and fucking long. Eddie moaned at the sight and fisted the sheets underneath him. He wanted so badly to get his mouth on Richie, to breathe him in and be nice and good for Richie on his knees. But he was also desperate to get fucked; his hole clenched down on nothing at the thought, and then it was all he could think about again. “Richie,” he repeated, whining now as he reached for him. “Stop being such a tease.”

Richie laughed as he moved easily out of Eddie’s grip and climbed on top of him. Eddie gasped softly at the sight of Richie above him, his dark curls surrounding his face, his full, pink lips pulled into the most beautiful smile Eddie had ever seen in his life. He ran his hands over Richie’s chest and sides, marveling at the fact that this was really happening. Then, his eyes flickering down, he tentatively brought his hand to Richie’s cock.

“Oh, fuck,” they said, both at the same time, making them giggle together.

“Fuck, Eds, your pretty little hand looks so cute wrapped around my cock,” Richie teased in a low, rough voice. Eddie shivered; he couldn’t tell if Richie was praising him or degrading him, but either way it made his head fuzzy.

“‘M not that little,” Eddie grumbled out of habit. But he was clearly breathless. He’d never been good at pretending not to like Richie’s compliments, however teasing.

“Aw, but you are, baby,” Richie cooed, nuzzling his nose against Eddie’s and pressing a lingering kiss to his lips. “You’re so cute and tiny for me. I don’t even know if we’ll be able to fit my cock inside you.”

“I can,” Eddie whined, both indignant and impatient. He bucked his hips up, but Richie held him down. He gasped when he felt the warm, soft skin of Richie’s cock press against his stomach. Looking down, he saw that Richie had his cock lying on Eddie’s stomach, showing just how deep he would be once he was inside Eddie.

“You sure about that, babydoll?” While the teasing note was still there, Richie’s voice got noticeably softer as he said, “I don’t wanna hurt you.”

Eddie’s chest swelled at that. Cupping Richie’s face in his hands, he insisted, “I can take it.” Then he reached down and took Richie in his hand, glowing with pride when Richie let out a low moan. “Richie, please, I want you so bad.”

“Okay, baby,” Richie agreed, turning his head to kiss Eddie’s palm. “Fuck, I want you, too.” But he stalled. “Have you ever… like, been fucked before?”

Eddie flushed. “Well, not by someone else, but I have some toys. I’m not gonna break, Richie.” He huffed, but the way Richie was looking at him soothed any ruffled feathers.

“I’m your first?” His smile was soft, and while his eyes glittered, there was nothing teasing about his tone.

“I didn’t wanna do it with anyone else,” Eddie mumbled. He tried to look away, but Richie pulled him into a kiss.

“Fuck, I never thought you’d want me,” he chuckled. “Sorry, that was depressing, I just mean I can’t believe we didn’t do this sooner, you know?”

Eddie beamed, a small, giddy giggle dancing on his lips. “Well it’ll happen sooner if you stop talking so much.” But his smile, and all of the little kisses he planted on Richie’s freckled shoulders told Richie that Eddie never wanted him to stop talking.

“Alright, alright, sheesh, I know I’m hot but you don’t gotta rush me.” Eddie was still giggling when Richie kissed him, and he could feel that Richie was smiling too. “Where’s your lube?”

Eddie stretched his hand out and patted the bed for a moment, searching. After what was probably only four seconds but felt like an eternity, he finally found the bottle and handed it eagerly to Richie. “Oh, right,” Richie smirked, “you’re already wet for me, aren’t you?” Eddie moaned as Richie swiped his fingers over Eddie’s slick hole, pressing in just a bit. His fingers went in easily, and he pumped them slowly, drawing little, breathy moans out of Eddie. Richie’s fingers were a lot longer and thicker than his own, and they felt amazing, but they weren’t what he wanted in that moment.

“Richie, fuck me,” he whined.

“Aw, no please? Again?” Richie tsked and shook his head, curling his fingers against Eddie’s prostate, making him cry out. “I told you, sweetheart, only good boys who use their manners get fucked.”

“Please,” Eddie cried. He rocked his hips and grabbed at Richie’s shoulders, at his arms, not even sure what his goal was there other than to get Richie closer, to get his attention, to show him how desperate he was. “Please fuck me, please.” He sounded pathetic begging like this, but that just made him harder. And it made Richie’s pupils even wider as he slid his fingers out of Eddie and pressed a kiss to his lips.

“Good boy,” he purred. Eddie moaned and arched into Richie’s touch, but he only gave Eddie one more kiss on his cheek before pulling back and covering his cock in lube. Eddie watched, entranced, as Richie’s hand moved smoothly over his cock, glistening and slick. Then Richie was gently spreading Eddie’s legs even further and pressing the head of his cock against Eddie’s hole.

“Yes,” Eddie whimpered brokenly, grasping at the sheets beneath him. “Richie, please.” Meeting his gaze, he said softly, “I need you.”

“I’ve got you,” Richie assured him in a voice that made Eddie feel like he was glowing. Richie took Eddie’s hand in his and entwined their fingers, using his other hand to guide his cock inside of Eddie, who gasped at the feeling. God, he couldn’t believe this was happening. He couldn’t believe his first time was going to be with his favorite person. He couldn’t believe he was finally getting exactly what he wanted. Love flooded through him, warm and perfect, somehow both soothing and electrifying as he watched Richie’s face. Eddie’s mouth dropped as Richie pressed into him, deeper and deeper and still fucking deeper, until finally Richie let out a low moan and Eddie felt absolutely breathless. The stretch was intense, and he held onto Richie tightly as he caught his breath. “Are you alright?” Richie asked. His voice was strained, but the care and concern in it was clear. “You don’t have to take all of it if it’s too much.”

Eddie wanted to laugh at the remark or roll his eyes, but with how breathless and dizzied by pleasure he already was, he had to admit Richie had a point. “Just need a minute,” he gasped. Richie ran a soothing hand over Eddie’s skin, helping him even out his breathing and relax. The feeling of Richie’s cock twitching in anticipation inside of him had him letting out little moans as he adjusted, getting more and more used to the feeling until he felt comfortable enough to tell Richie he could move. Richie kissed him before he did, his lips soft against Eddie’s, a reassuring weight. Eddie breathed in sharply as Richie pulled back, grabbing at Richie’s shoulders.

Richie immediately stopped. “You okay, baby?” he asked, caressing Eddie’s face.

Eddie wanted to melt. Richie was always touching him, always jokingly flirting with him, but this unabashed concern and, well, love had previously been reserved for dire situations, like panic attacks or injuries. Eddie couldn’t help the dopey smile that bloomed on his face as he tilted his chin up and kissed Richie. “I’m okay,” he said breathlessly. “It’s just a little different from my vibrator.” They both gave a shaky laugh as Richie nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“Better, I hope?” he grinned.

“Can’t tell yet,” Eddie retorted. Another snarky comment was on the tip of his tongue when Richie pulled his hips further back, effectively sucking all the air—and attitude—from Eddie’s chest. And then Richie was pushing back in, and Eddie let out a moan he couldn’t have faked if he tried, relaxing back into the mattress as his eyes fell shut. It was the best thing he’d ever felt, pleasure and relief flooding through his body. They’d been building up this tension for years; Eddie had figured it would feel good to break it, but it really felt magical, like something had just clicked into place. Feeling Richie inside of him, rocking his hips carefully, feeling Richie twitch as he tried not to lose control had Eddie’s head reeling. Eddie’s eyes fluttered open, focusing on Richie above him, on how flushed his face was. When Richie met his eye, pressing in deep, Eddie let out a small, “Fuck.”

“Yeah? Does that feel good, sweetheart?”

Richie was smirking as he said it, but there was something else sparkling in his eyes. Something giddy and awed. Something that made Eddie sigh dreamily, “I love you.”

Richie’s eyes widened for a moment before he pressed his lips firmly against Eddie’s, his hands roaming over Eddie’s body like he couldn’t choose where to put them, where to touch him. “I love you so much,” he beamed, pressing a few more kisses to Eddie’s cheeks. Eddie giggled at the feeling, but then Richie’s hips moved just a little faster, pressing him in just a little deeper, and he was back to melting under Richie’s touch, clinging to him as he rocked his hips with Richie’s. “Fuck, you’re so amazing, baby, so fucking beautiful. You look so good like this, holy shit.”

Eddie smiled almost drunkenly at Richie’s ability to ramble even when blowing Eddie’s mind. “Feels so good,” he moaned, his voice breathy and just a little bit higher than normal. He wrapped his legs around Richie’s waist. “Please, Richie, please.”

“Fuck, baby, wanna make you feel like this all the fucking time,” Richie groaned as he picked up the pace. Eddie whined in pleasure at the change, and that just spurred Richie to go faster, harder, until he was well and truly fucking Eddie, both of them moaning with every thrust.

“Oh my god,” Eddie cried, “ohmygodohmygodhmygod, oh fuck, Richie, please.” It felt so amazing, Richie fucking into him like this, but he needed that little bit more. His cock was throbbing desperately, achingly hard; he needed to feel Richie’s hand on him. “Richie, please,” he whimpered, “please, please touch me. I need you, I need you so bad, please, Richie.” Eddie was pouting now, grabbing aimlessly at Richie, his legs still wrapped tight around him.

“Fuck, you’re so hard for me,” Richie marveled, his voice sweet and condescending as he wrapped his hand around Eddie’s cock. Eddie nearly screamed at the contact, his back arching off the bed. Richie laughed a little, which just made Eddie even harder. The way Richie spread his precome over his cock, twisting his wrist just so as he stroked him had that familiar tension coiling in his lower stomach. “Aw, does that feel good? You gonna come on my cock, kitten?”

“Fuck, yes!” Eddie screamed. He gripped at the sheets as Richie stroked him, his voice washing over Eddie, mixing with the pleasure of Richie’s touch, of his thrusts. “Yes, yes, yes, please let me come, please, please, please.”

“That’s a good boy,” Richie purred, and Eddie could feel himself tipping over the edge at the words, at how low and affected Richie’s voice was. He groaned out, “Come on my cock like a good boy, princess,” and pure pleasure crashed over Eddie like a wave. He arched his back and cried out as he came, his moans filling the room as he squirmed under Richie, grabbed at him, at the sheets. It was fucking ethereal. He felt somehow so in tune with his body and yet so detached, like he was floating. He was barely cognizant of what Richie was saying, but when he put the sounds together and realized Richie had just said, panting, “Fuck, baby, gonna come,” Eddie felt like a live wire again.

“In me,” he said urgently. His mind was still a little too scattered for full sentences, but he knew what he wanted. God, he felt like he needed it. Like he needed to feel that connected to Richie. “Richie, come inside me, please.”

Richie apparently didn’t need to be told twice; he let out a moaned, “Oh, fuck,” before burying his face in Eddie’s neck, his breathy moans like music in Eddie’s ear. And then, as Eddie was coming down from his own high, he felt the holiest thing in the world: Richie’s cock, twitching inside of him, then his warm come filling Eddie up. It was unreal, being this close to him. Richie clutching at him as he came. It was even better than the little fantasies Eddie occasionally allowed himself. Richie was here, in his arms, pressing kisses to his neck as he caught his breath. Eddie was stroking his hair and rubbing his back as Richie nuzzled into him. Richie’s skin pressed against his skin, his legs wrapped around Richie’s waist, then falling to his sides, but still pressed to him. Still keeping him close. There wasn’t a single thought in his head that wasn’t about Richie.

Richie pulled him from his dreamy haze with light kisses pressed up his jaw, then over his cheeks. Eddie giggled at the onslaught of affection, still reeling from how fucking hot and euphoric what they had just done together had been. But he happily accepted Richie’s kisses, his heart bursting, then racing as Richie pulled back to look in his eyes. “Holy, fuck,” Richie beamed, his face flushed and blue eyes hooded from the weight of his orgasm, even as they sparkled.

“I know,” Eddie said, returning Richie’s grin as he basked in the surreality of having Richie on top of him, his dorky yet charming smile framed by lips that were red and swollen because of Eddie. His glasses were knocked askew, and Eddie instinctively reached up to fix them. With a sense of wonder, he realized that his touch was allowed to linger this time. He ran his fingers down Richie’s cheekbones, over his jaw, cupped his cheeks. “I love you,” he said. The words spilled out over his lips like he couldn’t stand not to say them. And while it made his heart race a little to say it out loud now that the adrenaline and tension was all worked through, it felt even better this time when Richie’s face softened and he nuzzled his nose against Eddie’s.

“I love you so fucking much.” Richie’s voice rarely got that soft, that sincere; it felt like a blanket wrapping around Eddie. It felt safe, secure. It felt like a promise. And if there was anyone in the world Eddie knew he could trust, it was Richie. That feeling of everything coming together came back to Eddie as he lay there under Richie, their lips moving together, feeling light as a feather now that everything was finally out in the open.

#reddie #notsfw #reddie smut #reddie fic

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magnoliabloomfield · 3 years

Text

Possession

Chapter 1: The Princess Arrives

Structure. Maybe it was because he was a builder that he liked that word so much. He built structures, he knew how make four walls and a roof that wouldn’t come down on anyone’s head, he knew how to build a seat that wouldn’t give out under anyone’s weight, and he knew how to maintain it all and make it last. The small world he lived in demanded order and structure for everyone’s well being. Without it they would be sleeping on the ground, starving, and losing their minds. And if one cog in that machine didn’t turn as it should it affected every other part. Yes, the Glade had to be a well oiled machine functioning everyday as it should.

Thankfully there were no outside forces that tried to thwart that. The doors opened in the morning, they closed at night, and the box came every month. You could tell time by the Glade and its unchanging rhythm. After three years Gally knew it like his own heartbeat. He knew the answer to every problem that could crop up in his bit of the machine. He was good enough to be the Keeper of the builders at least. Maybe that’s why it hit him hardest of all.

Box day came like all the others before it, predictable and precise. But then the heart of the Glade skipped a beat and Gally’s own did too for the first time. Because in that box was something they would never recover from.

A girl.

That was the worst thing that ever could have come up in the box. The boys would lose their minds, they’d become distracted and competitive and the machine of the Glade would come to a rusty, grinding halt. Gally could see the writing on the walls: this was going to be bad.

She wasn’t awake, she was laying there almost peacefully and all the gladers remained eerily and unexpectedly silent, like they were waiting for someone to jump out and say it was all a joke and take her away, or if they stared at her long enough the mirage would fizzle out and it actually would be a boy like it was supposed to be. Alby and Newt carefully lowered themselves into the box so they wouldn’t startle her and Newt hesitantly checked for a pulse, letting out a breath as he nodded to say she was alive. Gally ran a hand over his mouth, feeling anxious but not wanting to look it.

She woke up slowly from a sleep she didn’t know she’d fallen into. Her eyes stared straight up at the sky before they started to focus on things like Newt and Alby and a whole crowd of boys looming above her. Gally waited for the scream, for the crying, shuck, even boys had screamed and cried when they came up. But she didn’t. She tried to sit up and winced, placing her palm over her eye and rubbing like her head hurt.

“You’re okay,” Newt said to her from where he knelt beside her.

“Do you remem-“ Alby started to ask her but was silenced by her holding up one finger.

“Just… give me a minute,” she requested as she pressed both palms to her forehead and brought her knees up toward her chest.

“Sure, no rush,” Newt assured her softly, earning a small glare from Alby who was more impatient and less coddling than him.

“Enough gawking, if you’re not a keeper get back to work,” Alby ordered the boys standing around whispering to each other and stifling giggles behind their fists.

Gally narrowed his eyes and shook his head at them. Weak willed hormonal morons. They were all shucking doomed. Slowly the boys began to shuffle off, the ones catching Gally’s glare wiping the smirks from their faces and moving even faster. He sighed to himself knowing their work was going to suck if it got done at all.

Gally stood around with the other keepers, his arms crossed as they all waited for whatever would happen next. The girls hands came away from her face and she held one out in front of her, seeing the tremors running through it and making it shake before she clutched her knees and took a deep breath.

“Okay… now, what?” she sighed, looking up at Newt and Alby, her eyes squinting in the sun.

She was cute, of course she was cute, she couldn’t ruin their lives if she wasn’t cute, Gally thought to himself as he looked away from her.

“Do you remember anything?” Newt asked her nicely.

She zoned out on the middle ground ahead of her and let a breath out through her lips. “Water is wet, the sky is blue, that kind of stuff. I can’t even remember my name,” She said, her shaking hands pushing her hair back from her face as that realization set in.

“It’s ok, it’s alright,” Newt did a good job of keeping her calm. “That happens to everyone who comes here. Sad to say that’s normal. Most of us eventually remember our names at some point though, so don’t worry too much.”

“So if I were to ask you where we are and why we’re here you wouldn’t even know?” she asked as she turned to him, causing him to rock back on his heels a little bit.

“Unfortunately that is correct,” Alby spoke up, earning her attention. “But we will tell you everything we do know, starting with the fact that… you’re the very first girl to come here in three years. So we kind of have a lot to talk about.”

She squinted up at him for a beat before asking “Am I dreaming?”

“I bet you would think being the only girl in a crowd of boys would be a dream,” one of the other keepers said, drawing those eyes of hers to him.

“Nightmares are dreams too,” she pointed out.

Gally felt the corner of his mouth twitch like he might have chuckled at that.

She got out of the box on her own, climbing onto a drum of drinking water and then the rest of the way. Alby and Newt took a hand to get out and Gally figured the girl wasn’t keen on being touched just yet if ever. They let her have her way. They set off for the gathering room, the girl carefully encircled by the keepers to either keep her from running off or keep anyone from running up to her. Alby yelled for someone to go unload the rest of the box and the girl flinched.

She wasn’t as short as Gally expected a girl would be, but of course she was a lot shorter than him. At least not all the boys were that much taller than her which might tip things in her favor slightly if anything were to happen. Gally would have to pay attention to how intimidating he was now. It was never an issue with the boys, it was quite essential in fact. If they weren’t a little scared of someone then nothing would get done. But just looking at her he could tell that he absolutely could overpower her without breaking a sweat, and she would most definitely put that together too, so he had to make sure he never gave her a reason to think he actually would.

They started the gathering with the basic Greenie intro to the Glade. This was usually handled by one person who took the greenie on a tour around the Glade, but this was not the usual greenie. Gally was actually glad she was out of sight of the boys who were supposed to be working.

He rested his elbows on his knees to keep his leg from jumping nervously as Alby and Newt explained the basics and each keeper explained what they did. Gally kept his eyes down, unintentionally staring through the spot where her feet were. As the builder he was running through all the work he would have to do, he’d have to build a safe place for her to sleep and wash up, how exactly was he going to do that, he’d never had to do that before. When Alby called his name he was almost startled. He looked around and found everyone looking back at him, including the girl. It must be his turn.

“I’m in charge of the builders. Pretty self explanatory,” he stated, holding her gaze for as long as he could manage. It wasn’t long.

“You’ve been surprisingly quiet, Gally,” Newt pointed out, looking at him curiously.

Gally didn’t like the attention. “Well, I am the one who has to do the most about this situation,” he pointed out. “Yes, she needs her introduction to this place, but while you’re telling it to her I’m sitting here thinking of how I’m going to build a safe place for her to sleep and to wash up. I’m thinking up the plans now so I can get to work first light and just maybe she’ll have a place to sleep by sundown tomorrow. So what are we going to do for her tonight?”

Alby pinched the bridge of his nose as his face scrunched up, realizing that they had lot of work ahead of them. When Gally had finished his rant he thought the girl was sitting a little smaller in her seat.

“The gardening shed,” Newt blurted. “Remember the time the rakes fell over? We couldn’t get in, you had to take the door off. There’s no windows either. It’s not the best accommodations but on short notice at least it’s a place where no one can get in.”

Gally had started nodding, remembering exactly what Newt was talking about and it was a good idea, at least for one night. “We’ll move out some of the tools and put a cot in,” Gally thought aloud.

“She can take mine,” Minho volunteered.

“Are you sure? Aren’t you running tomorrow?” Newt pointed out.

“Yeah,” Minho shrugged. “Maybe one of the other runners will let me use his cot, but I can’t volunteer anyone else’s but my own. Besides, it’ll be one night, two tops with Gally working on it.”

Gally was surprised to hear him say something vaguely nice about him. But most of all he was planning, drawing blueprints in his mind of the safest, most anti-boy structure he could possibly make. He was going to put the Princess in the tower.

@poulterholland @anniemylennox @crazysheeplyca @thesuitkovian @Poulterjonas @gladerscake @carp3d1em @neilox

If any of you don't actually want to be tagged in the future just let me know, I was just trying to remember the ones who were really interested in the last short Gally series I wrote.

Possession Masterlist

#gally #tmr #tmr gally #tmr gally imagine #gally imagine #gally fanfic #tmr fanfic #tmr gally fanfic #maze runner #maze runner gally #gally maze runner #maze runner fan fic #will poulter #will poulter protection squad

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lily-drake · 3 years

Text

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE-WAYNE, THE BEST BAT BOY OF THEM ALL!!! YOU CAN’T CHANGE MY MIND!!!!!!

Happy Birthday Tim

Tim never really cared for his birthday, afterall nobody ever remembered it, and he doubted that Bruce would care. He had never shown much of an interest in him, which was fine since he wasn’t supposed to get close to him. His entire job as Robin was to make sure Batman didn’t go crazy, he wasn’t supposed to get attached. So he didn’t, at least that’s what he told himself. It was around 10:45 PM when Tim went upstairs at Alfred’s request. Timidly the 14 year old walked into the kitchen only to be met with a small white cake. Upon closer inspection the cake had red and green letting that spelled out in neat scroll, “Happy Birthday Timothy” with perfectly cut strawberries decorating the sides. Tim stared at the cake in awe, he’d never been given a birthday cake before, except at galas; but that didn’t count as he wasn’t really aloud to eat any.

“Good to see you up here Master Timothy. Happy birthday young sir. I apologize for the others absence, but I’m afraid that they are ‘busy’.”

Tim swiftlet lifted up his arms in a placating manner,

“Oh no, it’s fine. Don’t worry about it, I wouldn’t want to bother anyone.”

Alfred gave him a small smile and nodded.

“Well, I believe that it is time for a bit of cake.”

Alfred walked around the counter and pulled out a plate, for, and knife before he cut a large piece and plated it. Tim held back tears as he took his first bite of the cake. This was the best cake he had ever had, and this was definitely his favorite birthday.

*******

Tim stared at the computer screen in front of him trying to figure out what he was missing. He was tired, he hadn’t slept in a few days, and he was on his 8th cup of coffee from that hour alone.

“Tim, come with me!”

Dick said, suddenly on his right side. Out of habit he turned and threw a punch at him. Dick quickly ducked and laughed.

“Your getting faster baby bird.”

Tim sighed and rolled his eyes turning back to the computer.

“What do you need, Dick?”

He asked typing something onto the screen and scrunching his brow in frustration at the facts in front of him. Dick rolled his eyes and sighed before he grabbed Tim and pulled him from the computer chair and onto his feet. Tim groaned and tried to pull away in protest, but Dick overpowered him and he was dragged up the stairs. Tim looked around to see where he was so he could make a quick escape if necessary. When he looked forward again he saw he was being dragged to one of the main room doors. He was thinking and going through all of the things he could have missed or forgotten, but nothing came to mind. When the door opened the lights were off until they suddenly turned on and loud voices screamed,

“Happy birthday!”

From all around the room. Tim blinked a few times everything catching up to him as he looked around and saw his family; Bruce, Alfred, Barbara, Stephanie, Cass, and Dick all around him. The room was covered in decorations and on the table sat a decent sized 3 tier cake, just like the one he had had when turned fourteen, but bigger. Tim ran through his memory and tried to recall what the date was and froze. Oh, it was his 16th birthday, he had forgotten all about it. He was pulled out of his stooped by Steph grabbing his arm and pulling him towards the table were 16 candles lined the rim of the cake and in the center it said, “Happy 16th Birthday Tim!” in the neatest cursive with a robin made of frosting right below it. There was also neatly plated and perfectly made sushi on another table near them. Tim smiled as everyone began to sing happy birthday to him and when he was done he blew out the candles happy and content with his day. There was so much warmth that spread through his chest as he talked and ate cake with his family. So much joy that surrounded the manor, he even saw Bruce smile. Tim didn’t need to wish for anything, he was happy, and that’s all he could ever wish for.

*******

Tim looked at his watch and frowned. He was now officially 19, but it didn’t matter, nothing mattered much now. He was alone in Paris training with Lady Shiva, and his family didn’t care. They were the ones who kicked him out afterall, he wasn’t wanted. He sat under a shady tree bench in the park and watched as people talked and interacted with eachother. It was peaceful, but that didn’t fill the hollowness he felt in his chest. As he stood and began to walk away he felt someone crash into him and fell foreword, someone landing on his back. Quickly the person got up and began to call out apologies obviously embarrassed. Tim got up and turned around and came face to face with a girl about his age with dark black hair that tinted blue in the light and show startlingly bright bluebell eyes. The girl was still talking and he wasn’t sure if she had even breathed yet.

“Hey, it’s ok. Don’t worry about it.”

The girl immediately bit her lip and bowed her head as she tried to hide her face. Tim smiled at the girl who was slightly shorter than him.

“I’m Tim.”

He said casually as he held out his hand. The girl gave an awkward smile before excepting his hand and giving it a firm shake.

“Marinette. Sorry again.”

“It’s nice to meet you Marinette. Do you know where any good coffee shops are, I haven’t slept in a while and I really need a pick me up to finish my things.”

Marinette lit up and nodded.

“I totally understand. I design and commissions keep me up all night half the time. I live in a bakery and have concocted the best wake up coffee. My friends say it’s very dangerous and I’m going to kill myself with it one day, but all well. Why sleep when you can get things done?!”

Tim smiled at the girl as she began to walk and talk. She was cute and was very dramatic in the way she spoke and expressed herself. They walked across the street to a small bakery, the one Marinette must live in, and walked to the front where a short Asian woman stood near the register. When the woman saw Marinette her smile grew as she welcomed them.

“I’m gonna make one of my specials for him!”

Marinette called out as she went to the back and started making some kind of coffee concoction. The woman rolled her eyes, but she still held an amused smile.

“Hello, I’m Sabine. Please choose a sweet, you’ll need it if you’re going to drink her “Miracle Cure”, as the college students like to call it.”

“Thank miss. Please, call me Tim.”

He said giving her a small smile back as he browsed the selection. In the display he noticed lots of animal themed treats and smiled. There were many ladybug and cat themed ones as well as an orange fox, a turtle, a bee, a blue snake, a monkey, and a red dragon. It was an interesting choice of animals and he wondered if they were important in some way here. He found a small tarte aux fruits with an assortment of fruits that formed the red dragon. When he looked up he saw the woman waiting for him still wearing her friendly smile.

“Could I please have the Tarte aux fruits du dragon please?”

“Of course dear.”

Carefully she opened the door to the refrigerated case and grabbed one of the fruit tarts and carefully put it in a small box. Tim went to the register right as Marinette had finished and placed the large drink in front of him. He pulled out his wallet but was stopped by Marinette’s hand.

“Nope, on the house. An apology for earlier.”

She said with a bright smile. Tim was shocked and felt a warmth he hadn’t felt in years begin to bloom once again. He gently took the coffee from her hands and carefully picked up the small box with a plastic fork atop it.

“Thank you, Marinette. That’s very kind of you.”

Her smile brightened and before Tim could stop or even think of what he was saying the words had already left his mouth,

“If you’re free, do you want to walk around Paris with me?”

Marinette blinked for a moment shocked, but then smiled again and nodded.

“Sure, that sounds nice!”

She took off the apron she had been wearing while making the coffee and hung it up on a wrack before walking out from behind the counter snd grabbing his arm and almost dragging him out the door. When she realized what she was doing she quickly dropped it slightly blushing and scratched the back of her neck in embarrassment.

“S-sorry. I should have asked first.”

Tim snickered a little, she was adorable.

“No it’s fine, so where to first?”

Tim asked as he gently placed the tart in his satchel and sipped the coffee. When he did he felt his mind begin to clear and he felt more awake than he had in a long time. He understood why it was called Miracle Cure now, this stuff was amazing!

“Well, where were you thinking of?”

“I was thinking of going to the Arc de Triomphe then head towards the Effiel Tower.”

Marinette beamed and nodded and began to walk towards the Arc de Triomphe. She knew the path by heart as she often went there for inspiration. The two talked the whole way there and bonded over their love of coffee and insomniac tendencies. As they arrived at their first destination the sat on the steps and watched people pass them. Tim pulled out the small tart and began to slowly eat it and smiled. It tasted like Alfred’s cooking, though he didn’t want to admit that this might just be a bit better. He glanced over at Marinette and noticed that she now had a sketchbook out and was drawing something. He didn’t want to disturb her as he didn’t like being interrupted when he was really into something and let her draw as he watched the people. Suddenly there was a loud crash. He looked up and was shocked to see a giant child walking around smashing and destroying buildings. He looked over and saw that Marinette had disappeared and he began to panic.

He stood up and began to move so he could get a better place to watch and analyze what was happening so that he could see if he needed to interfere. He watched silently from a roof and saw a bunch of people begin to surround the child all with the same theme. His mind flashed to the animals in the bakery and connected the dots as he glanced at all of the different people in animal costumes. He watched as the Ladybug ordered everyone on the plan and on what to do which lead him to believe that she was the leader of this group. It only took a few minutes and he watched the cat hero completely destroy a toy car from the giant child’s hand and a purple feather and butterfly flew out. The ladybug hero quickly caught them and released them into the air. She threw the object she had summoned into the air and he watched in amazement as thousands, maybe millions, of small ladybugs flew around the damage done and repaired all of it, including the bodies that had not been moving moments ago.

Tim ran back to the Arc de Triomphe and waited there to see if Marinette would come back. It took a few minutes and then he saw her figure running towards him with panic and worry.

“Tim, I’m so sorry! Are you ok? I shouldn’t have left like that, I’m so sorry.”

Tim gave her an awkward smile and nodded.

“It’s fine, you came back afterall.”

She smiled at him and he lifted his arm out for her to take,

“Shall we continue our walk Mademoiselle?”

Tim asked with a slight bow. Marinette giggled and gave a small curtsy before she placed her hand atop of his.

“Why of course Monsieur.��

They both laughed as they walked. They enjoyed the silence for a bit before Tim asked what had happened.

Marinette gave him a sad sigh and explained the situation that had been happening in Paris for about 4 years now. Tim was shocked that this hadn’t made it to the Justuce League, especially if it had been happening for four entire years. Tim asked a few more questions that Marinette happily answered and they felt happy and content in the warm companionable silence. Tim thought of all of his past birthdays, and he knew that this one was on the top 5 best list of his favorite birthdays.

#HAPPY BIRTHDAY TIMOTHY JACKSON DRAKE-WAYNE!!!!!!!!!#Tim Drake #Dick Grayson #Maribat #marinette dupen chang #dc x mlb #mlb x dc #mlb x batman #timinette #timari #romantic timinette #Bruce Wayne #alfred pennyworth #Tim is best robin #Fight me

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flooffybits · 3 years

Text

Gone Home

Idol: Kim Yoohyeon (Dreamcatcher), Jung Jinsoul (Loona)

When memories of the past come to haunt you, your emotions at the present make sure to keep you anchored, along with the promise of new memories.

A/n: i know i said i was prioritizing some stuff but i just could not help it with these two, they’re too adorable

ps: this is a YoohSoul centered continuation of What Could Have Been

☕buy me a coffee☕

I just wanna be the one

But to you we're already done

Resting your head on your desk with your arms folded under it, the words silently echo in your head as the woman singing it continues to fill each word with her own emotions, and you can't help but feel a little upset the more you listen.

Too much darkness for a rainbow

I feel so used

How am I supposed to live without you? I refuse

Was this really how she felt? Was it just her own emotions or was Jennie in on this, too?

You're so deep in thought that you don't notice the two pairs of eyes peeking at you from your door.

"Should we ask her about it?" Jinsoul asks softly, fingers clenching and unclenching when she sees your slumped up figure, but Yoohyeon shakes her head. "I don't want her to feel like we're pressuring her into talking to us." She whispers, brows pinching together in worry before she gestured for them to head to your living room.

Currently, the majority of your members are out except for Chaeyoung, Tzuyu, and Mina. The three were busy doing their own things in the dorm, yet they were quite welcoming of your two girlfriends, minus the second youngest - who you had to plead with in not telling the two eldest.

“You two look like kicked puppies.”

Yoohyeon looked up after being addressed and wasn't too surprised to see Chaeyoung standing there with a blank look written across her face. Though after the quick glance to your room, it isn’t too surprising to see her frown begin to form.

“What did you do?”

Jinsoul’s back straightens and she’s a bit alert by the possible growing hostility of your younger member. “W-We’re actually trying to figure out what’s wrong with Y/n.” She immediately says, though not fully convincing Chaeyoung but she decides to humor the two as she crosses her arms and leans against the wall.

“What’s wrong with unnie?” Yoohyeon let out a sigh. It was one thing that she was nervous about talking to her senior, but it was also another thing that she was talking to your members. But she reminds herself that this is part of your relationship and that she shouldn’t be afraid, no matter how much the shorter woman was scaring her.

“She’s been a bit down whenever she hears Rosé sunbaenim’s song. I’m not sure if she’s like that with other songs, but whenever she hears a certain song, her mood changes.” Hearing the name of her old friend and your ex caused the rapper to pause before she had to take another look at your girlfriends.

She’s a little confused when she sees that the pair was genuinely lost, so she asks the first question that pops in her head. “Wait, you don’t know who unnie’s exes are?”

Both Jinsoul and Yoohyeon shake their heads in reply, looking up to see the younger girl’s surprised expression before she took a seat to properly look at the pair, just so she’s sure they aren’t lying. “Y/n has never told us who they are, just that things didn’t work out.”

Chaeyoung sat quietly for a few moments, silently pondering on what to say. She’s been wary of the pair when it came to pursuing you with a relationship, but she believed that they did have good intentions. And seeing how neither of them knew about the entirety of your past relationship, she had to take a different stance towards them.

However, just as Chaeyoung was able to gather her thoughts, another one of your members cut in on the conversation.

“We may not be in the position to tell you about it or what you should do in the relationship, but I hope you guys can be a little patient with Y/n.” Mina’s soft voice greeted and everyone looked to find the girl walking over. “Her last relationship was a little too fast for her to fully grasp. So I want the both of you to know that rushing her into this relationship isn’t the ideal path you should be taking.” Chaeyoung let out a huff as she sank further in her seat.

“Why didn’t you ask her who she dated before?”

Jinsoul cocked her head to the side, her eyebrows pulling into their signature look as she pouted. “We didn’t want to remind her about it and we didn’t think it mattered who she dated before. It was obvious that bringing them up would make her uncomfortable though, so we didn’t want to remind her of bad memories.” She explained, earning a small smile from the resident penguin. “Whenever Y/n decides that she wants to open up about it, we’ll listen. But if not, then we can accept that, too. We just want to make her feel better.”

“I’m certain you will.”

Chaeyoung glanced at the brunette with a small pout on her lips. “How are you guys so calm about this?” She questioned and the older woman chuckled before patting her head. “Well, you have to admit that Y/n has been a bit happier ever since Yoohyeon-ssi and Jinsoul-ssi started hanging out with her.” Mina says while shooting the pair a kind smile, one they reciprocated. “I would rather see her smiling again than locking herself up in her room.”

And as much as she would want to say no, Chaeyoung had to agree. You being with Jinsoul and Yoohyeon has been the happiest she’s seen you ever since the messy breakup with their two old friends, and she had to admit that she had missed this side of you.

“We understand that not all of you are too excited with the idea of Y/n dating again, more so with two people, but we’ll do our best, we promise.” Jinsoul nods in agreement to her girlfriend and Chaeyoung’s shoulders slowly grew less tense when Mina gave it a small pat. “I guess. But with how unnie has been acting…”

Chaeyoung shares a look with the ballerina, who gives her a light shrug. “I think, while we do appreciate you not pushing her, it’s best for you to know at least where her insecurities are coming from.” She sighed out. “It might be shocking for you, but Blackpink is a sensitive topic for her.”

The two sit there, looking a bit confused before Yoohyeon’s eyes slowly widen when she glances at your room, only to see you already standing there with a hesitant look on your face that makes her quickly stand up.

“I really hoped that you didn’t have to find out.” You mutter and your members look worried but you smile at them to show that you weren’t angry before facing your girlfriends. “Can we talk inside?” You ask and Jinsoul follows quickly, bowing to the other two as you enter your room for a much needed talk while Yoohyeon pauses before bowing as well. "Thank you." She tells them before rushing after you and Jinsoul.

“We weren’t prying, I swear. We were just worried about you and-”

You cut Yoohyeon’s rambling off with a soft kiss to her lips, one hand cupping her jaw as she eases herself into your warmth when she closes her eyes and Jinsoul pouts from the side. “Really feeling the love.” She grumbles, causing you to pull away with a giggle before you had pulled your other girlfriend to give her a kiss that she happily accepted, arms resting comfortably on your sides before she nestled her head against your neck.

“I’m not upset, so don’t worry.” Yoohyeon visibly relaxed at your words, though it doesn’t wipe her worries away when she tucks your hair behind your ear. “We were a little worried about you, but we weren’t expecting Chaeyoung to suddenly talk to us.” She explains quietly and you nod your head in understanding.

“She was one of those who were most upset about the breakup.” You inform them and Jinsoul’s arms tighten around your waist. You look at your two girlfriends before sucking in a deep breath and then letting it out, resting your cheek atop Jinsoul’s head before speaking.

“Nayeon unnie was friends with Jennie, then Chaeyoung and Tzuyu were actually close with Rosé. After the breakup, things have been… tense.” You mutter and Yoohyeon purses her lips when she now realizes why you were so affected by the song.

“You dated them…” Just then, Jinsoul tore herself away from you, eyes wide when she remembered the day you finally gave them the chance to go out with them. “Wait, back then at the cafe, when I told you I met Jennie sunbae, you didn’t say anything.” She said with a frown and you offered her a small smile. “You looked so excited, and I didn’t want either of you to think any differently of either of them.” You explain and Yoohyeon frowned as she took your hand, lacing her fingers with yours before she pressed her lips against your knuckles.

“Y/n, you don’t have to keep defending them.” She says it so softly, so carefully that it causes you to pause and reanalyze her words.

Were you really defending them still? Even after all that’s happened?

“We understand that it’s hard and that there are still scars that need healing, but you also have to understand that you don’t owe anyone anything.” Jinsoul spoke up this time when you all took your seats inside the room. “Maybe you’re used to always defending them, but you don’t have to keep doing that anymore. You have to learn that it’s unhealthy if you always put everyone else before yourself.”

They took your silence as a sign to continue and Yoohyeon reached for your hand. “After hearing the song… how do you feel?”

Of course they had no doubts about what you felt, but there were worries that maybe your past was still holding you back from actually being happy despite the fact that you had accepted that it was all finally over and done with. Emotional scars healed far longer than any other wounds.

“I…” You purse your lips together while staring at the ground and Jinsoul placed her hand on the small of your back, drawing random patterns in a way she knew helped calm you down whenever you’d gotten stressed. “It made me feel like she was trying to apologize.” You finally utter out, still unable to look at the two.

“Why is that?” Jinsoul asked softly and the lyrics of the songs ring in your head again as though you’d memorized every single word. “She was saying the things that our relationship began to lack. It feels like she was saying that she’s acknowledged just how bad it all went, not just for me.”

“It feels bittersweet, if I’m being honest. It took seeing me being able to stand on my own and showing them that I’m no longer dependent of them to understand that being with them only ended up hurting me, but at the same time, it feels like we’ve both finally accepted the fact that we’re not the same as we used to and that we’ve moved on from that.” Yoohyeon listens intently to your words while Jinsoul pressed her face against the side of your neck.

While they know they shouldn't be worried, the way you spoke was a bit worrisome for them because of certain what if scenarios.

But they knew better.

As you finally explained to them the entirety of your story with Chaeyoung and Jennie, it made so much more sense why your members were so protective and why Chaeyoung and your older members were very much opposed to the idea of you being with the two of them.

"Oh, baby." Jinsoul pulled you into her arms and ran her fingers gently through your hair in a comforting manner as you laid your head against her chest. "You could have told us that from the start, we would have understood." She tells you in a soft voice while Yoohyeon stared at you, lips pressed together in a thin line since she isn't quite sure what to say that would make you feel better.

She wasn't the best at comforting people, no matter how bad she wanted to. So for now, she lets your other girlfriend take the lead as she presses kisses to your temple while rocking you side to side.

"I just didn't want you guys to feel intimidated or anything. You respect them and their group a lot. I was afraid that maybe it would change how you view them."

Something inside Yoohyeon suddenly broke at your words while Jinsoul cuddled you. Without thinking, her hand had reached your cheek and carefully turned your face so you were looking directly into her eyes before she pressed a gentle kiss against your forehead.

"I don't want you to feel scared about anyone or anything." She breathed out when she pulled back and Jinsoul looked just as surprised by the taller woman's actions. "What you went through with them isn't any of our business. Sure, it might be a bit awkward, but the only one that matters is you because we're here for you, not them."

Her words are gentle, yet firm, and you keep quiet as her thumb ran over the skin of your cheek.

"I used to admire you so much as an idol, but getting to really know you only amplified that admiration, and I know I can never really properly express how I feel, but I can say with my whole heart that I am in love with you and I'll do whatever I can to make sure you never feel that same pain ever again."

Jinsoul smiles quietly, pressing her cheek against your hair and nuzzling you. "It's a bit early, but I wasn't expecting Yoohyeon to beat me to it." She chuckled, gaining both your attention as you turned to face her. "To be honest, I was doubtful about being in this relationship, but Yooh didn't even try convincing me. Getting to know you fully was more than enough reason for my heart find its way to you, too." She explained while tucking your hair behind your ear.

"You probably wondered at some point 'what's so special about me' or thought 'I'm a difficult person to love' but that's not true. you just weren't ready." She added as Yoohyeon soon joined you on the bed, wrapping her arms around both of you. "You just need a little push and assurance, and there's nothing wrong with that. You still deserve to love and to be loved."

Jinsoul kisses your temple when she notices the tears building up in your eyes and Yoohyeon takes your hand back in her own, caressing your knuckles. "It's a long road, but we're only going through it with you, never without."

Somehow, your throat didn't feel so tight. It didn't feel like you were being strangled anymore and you could finally breathe properly, even as they held you. In fact, it made you feel lighter and it didn't take long for tears to finally come spilling down your cheeks.

Your girlfriends let you cry as much as you need and neither of them speak, knowing that it was what you needed because even when your members were there for you, there was only so much they could do to help relieve you from the torment you were going through. They loved you like a real sister, but the love Yoohyeon and Jinsoul held for you was much more and in that moment, you could actually feel and believe that you really were getting better.

It looked like taking the risk really was worth it in the end.

"Hey."

You look behind you when you were headed back to meet your members inside Inkigayo's waiting and blink in surprise when you see two familiar faces looking at you with shy smiles in their expressions.

It had been a while since you've had overlapping schedules so this was definitely a surprise.

"Hi, you guys did great out there." You compliment and the pair grin. "You guys weren't so bad, either. The new concept is killer." The shorter of the pair replied and you chuckle before shrugging your shoulders. "Well, we've learned to take a step out of our comfort zones."

There's a small pause and none of you know what to say, so the Australian decides to break the silence instead. "I know that it's a little bit late, Y/n, but I hope you know that I'm really sorry… about what happened."

Your eyes softened as you looked at Chaeyoung and you shook your head while offering them a kind smile. "It's okay - all in the past now." You assure her. "It's a stretch, but I hope we can at least be friends again?" It's Jennie that speaks this time and your laughter fills the air as you waved a hand. "Of course! I honestly hoped my members didn't have to let what happened between us ruin your friendship, but it's a step."

"It was our fault, so don't worry. We'll fix it." Jennie promises and you smile more while nodding again. "Nayeon unnie and Chaeyoung might still be a little rough around the edges, but don't worry, I'll deal with them."

The awkward air seemed to have lifted as the three of you giggled and smiled at each other. However, your time had to be cut short when you remembered that you couldn't be gone too long, so you shoot your exes a friendly smile. "As much as I'd love to keep talking, I need to head back."

When you nod in the direction of your waiting room, both Blackpink members nod in understanding when they see two pairs of eyes peeking with tiny smiles on their faces. Chaeyoung and Jennie smile back, waving at them before moving aside to let you pass. "Well, I hope you guys have fun." Jennie tells you with her signature gummy smile and you shoot them another grin while nodding your head. "You, too."

Watching as you walked away, it wasn't as painful as the day you had broken up with them. As a matter of fact, the pair felt a bit better as they saw you happily run into Yoohyeon and Jinsoul’s waiting arms with the same bright smile you would wear when you were with them in the earlier stages of your relationship.

Jennie took Chaeyoung's hand in hers and gave it a tiny squeeze. "Ready to go?"

The taller one of the two nodded, lacing their fingers together as they headed for the other direction where the rest of their group was. "Let's go."

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babytortie · 3 years

Text

unexpected

unexpected. ❘ stanley uris x reader.

a/n: this was requested by anon - love ur recent stanley fic! was wondering if you’re cool with doing a smut for him? (aged up of course!) if you’re comfortable, could you make the reader more dominant in bed/stanley being more submissive? perhaps and enemies to lovers, hate sex type. other than that, any plot line is just fine.

* hope this lives up to your expectations! tyty for requesting this one.

summary: in which stanley and reader argue worse than richie runs his trashmouth. after burning some pent-up tension one day, the two take a turn for the better and become more than just enemies.

warnings: s m u t. some fluff at end. <3

contains: enemies to lovers, degrading, hair tugging, harsh kisses w/ slight blood, mild orgasm denial, praises, rough and unprotected sex.

* all characters ( including reader ) of the loser's club are 18+ in this one-shot.

~ 3.4k words.

you twirled a strand of hair between your fingers, a magazine placed on your lap, and beverly's head rested on your shoulder, looking at the pages with you.

it was the summer and the group was all back home on break from college. the loser's wanted to hang out and all eight of you were at bill's house right now. on various couch cushions and seats in the living room. his parents were away for the night and the seven brought clothes to stay at his just in case it got a bit late.

"oh, do you think he's hotter? or him?" bev asked, leaning in closer to point at the page. it was some magazine about the hottest actors of the year, achievement wise. though some hot men that were in it was currently grabbing beverly's, well, and your attention too. you glanced down at the page, slightly comparing both actors and voiced, "definitely him."

the guys overheard this and rolled their eyes. they were taking turns playing on bill’s newest nintendo sixty-four. on the floor below you, sat the four a few feet away, this was because they wanted to be scooted closer to the television. even though it was perfectly fine to put their backs against the couch. typical males.

you worried for their eyesight, especially richie’s, since right now he and bill were battling on some game you didn’t know the name of while being too close to the screen. eddie was on a chair next to the couch and sat by you, wheezing as he watched how close of a tie it was between them. mike and stanley were sitting on the floor with them on either side, cheering on who they wanted to win.

this was while ben sat on the other side of bev and read some book that just came out earlier this week. a quarter of ben’s focus was on his hand. it was resting on beverly’s thigh and drawing small, mindless shapes in content. the two were newly dating after pinning on each other for forever.

"i think we should play would you rather!" mike turned his head and suggested after hearing your conversation with the red head. bill had just died on the game causing richie to jump up and cheer while blowing out the other three's ear drums.

ben closed his book and sat up straighter. he took a glimpse over at beverly to see what her decision was. eddie hesitantly agreed when you and bev nodded. “s-sure!” bill got up and pulled stan with him.

one weekend about four years ago when the denbrough’s were home and bill had the group of losers over, they noticed how you all squished on the seats in the living room. surprising bill with an extra couch a month after this, they were able to successfully squeeze it into the room and push it against the other wall.

the four others started to pile on the other couch a few feet away from the three of you and eddie who still sat on the single chair next to you. beverly pulled her head up and leaned over to whisper in your ear, “be nice to stanley please.”

knowing it wasn’t funny, looking at her anyway with a confused expression, you lied. "stanley who?" she immediately turned her neck back at you, probably receiving some whiplash and raised an eyebrow to challenge you.

"i'm serious y/n." beverly laughed dryly. you sighed and replied a short agreeable response. “alright bev, as long as he doesn’t start it, then i won’t do anything.” after, you zipped your lips and threw an imaginary lock in the direction behind eddie.

she smiled at you in thanks and then you two turned towards the room, noticing everyone was ready. “b-being as it w-was mike’s id-dea, he can g-go first.” bill announced while glancing around the room.

mike nodded and turned to the one who still wore coke-bottle glasses years later. “richie, would you rather never wear underwear again or never wear socks again?”

ben and bill stifled a laugh, already knowing what his response was going to be. eddie rolled his eyes as richie answered, “underwear since i go commando sometimes anyway.”

you put your finger in your mouth, pretending that you were about to throw up and mike shook his head at richie. you turned to your right and left, seeing eddie’s and beverly’s disgusted faces.

”okay, eddie spaghetti.” he paused. the seven of you looked at eds, who had already put his hand over his face in annoyance. you and beverly laughed when the shorter boy muttered, “here we go.” richie smirked and continued. “would you rather, accidently send a nude to your boss or your parents? and by parents i mean your mom and i.”

he rolled his eyes, “absolutely not richie. my mom would never get with you and i would die of embarrassment if it were sonia. she’d probably kidnap and lock me in my old room, never to be seen again. probably boss.”

eddie turned to you after the group cackled of laughter, especially richie at the response he was given. the two of you currently shared a science class together in college and the asthmatic based some of his question off of this. "alright y/n, would u rather hook up with one of football players or with mr. jackson down at the science lab?”

you placed the palm of your hand on your cheek, into a thinking position and replied. "well, i kind of answered that question at last weekend’s party?" beverly jumped up at this and gasped. "no way! with which one?"

"i don’t kiss and tell." you smirked. the others gagged at that. “ah okay, i see. that’s where you went when we couldn’t find you again.” ben commented. stanley had been a bit quiet during the conversation and decided to speak up. adding to this, while looking at you pointedly. "you kind of just did tell and admitted at the fact that you sucked off some guy.”

you weren’t usually the type to get flustered during conversations like this. instead owning it as if you weren’t bothered. this helped you avoid any teasing or any richie’s usual jokes. "at least i'm getting some!" muttering in stanley’s direction.

"i swear if you guys argue for one more minute, i'm going to shoot myself. go y/n. it’s your turn." mike spoke up in between you and stanley, trying to get the game rolling again.

you smiled, feeling a little eager at the next question. you looked at the curly haired sitting across the room from you. the others groaned knowing you were about to pick on him in some kind of way. "uris. for the rest of your sex life, would you rather be the top or bottom?”

he blinked in your direction, probably wanting to smack you for the inappropriate question. “depends, is it with anyone specific?” you looked down sheepishly, then back up. is this a trick question? i mean sometimes you did find stanley a little bit too attractive. “do you want it to be?” deciding to quip back with equal attitude, you asked.

the group looked between the two of you while waiting for a response from uris. the tension was so thick that it could be cut with a knife. letting out a scoff in return, he looked at you in the eyes and glared. speaking in a low tone, you almost didn’t hear him. "uh, i don’t know.”

"what do you mean? you don’t know?" richie snickered.

bill, beverly, ben, and mike started to get the picture together. eddie figured it out just a second before them, when you burst out giggling. before you could stop from helping yourself, you let out a harsh jab. “oh shit, that explains why you’re always so uptight! maybe you should unbutton some of that polo? might help so you aren’t choking on all that innocence."

that only made matters worse, the last pin in place to set him off. stanley angrily spewed some words under his breath. only catching your name, you figured it was most likely something badly about you. quickly getting up from his spot, his curls bounced up and down when he rushed upstairs to one of the bedrooms.

the others watched him disappear from the top step sadly and looked back at you with the look. you had the decency to look a bit guilty, an awkward grimace on your face. "uh, why are you all looking at me like that?"

eddie leaned over to elbow you and gave his puppy dog eyes in pleading. you sighed but started getting up anyway. you laced your hands together in front of your stomach, nerves a bit jittery at being in a room alone with him. "well, to state my case we were all having that kind of discussion! if he wasn't such a prude..." you trailed off.

ben got up, patting your shoulder. "we all know this but stanley is sensitive about these kinds of things. go apologize while we're on break now and we’ll get some drinks going."

you nodded and turned back around, starting towards the stairs and walked up slowly. richie decided this was a good time to be the loud trashmouth that he is and shouted. "it was nice knowing you, y/n!"

shaking your head, you reached the last step and rounded the corner. hearing a slap noise, you assumed tozier was probably getting hit on the back of his head. a moment later a "beep beep" came from mike and you let out a small laugh in relief that they had your back against the loud mouth.

strolling down the hallway, you spotted the second guest bedroom door closed and decided to knock on it. stan heard a faint knock and got up from the bed to open it, seeing y/n he groaned. "oh, it's just you."

you ignored his disappointed comment and bit your lip. looking up and down to observe his new look. he must have just changed. wearing a regular light blue t-shirt and grey sweats. you shook your head and looked up to see his grin, catching you in the act of checking him out.

rolling your eyes in response, like he usually did and walking around him, you closed the bedroom door shut after stepping inside. you grabbed a handful of stanley’s shirt and pushed him against the back of the door. more like he allowed you to do this but you were definitely in control of the situation.

you leaned in towards him and swiped the back of your thumb over his bottom lip to test his reaction. when he didn’t swat your hand away, you went on the tip of your toes and brushed his lips against yours.

stanley gasped into your mouth and deciding to use this as an opportunity, you placed the tip of your tongue on the bottom of his lip. right before you could actually do this, he apparently read your mind and left his mouth open purposely. you wanted to slap him.

nonetheless, he allowed you total access. surprising him on purpose, you shoved your tongue in his mouth. wishfully thinking about how you wanted to somehow choke him with it. he grabbed both sides of your shoulders and scooted you closer, clashing his teeth with yours. not wanting to let up the control he tried to grab, you grasped the back of his neck tightly and felt light-headed. sensing wetness pooling between your thighs from enjoying this too much, you cursed to yourself.

a small moan escaped out from your lips and as if it was his fault, you nipped his bottom lip. you tried to quickly get rid the thought of ever giving into stanley uris. he hissed sharply, tasting slight blood from the nick. uris mumbled. "bitch."

this angered you more. pulling away from his lips, you put on a fake smile. moving in a bit closer to mess with the collar of his shirt, you tugged on it roughly, your face still close with his. "ready to not be a virgin anymore, virgin?" you retorted.

he smirked, "as long as i'm not one anymore, i don't care who it's with. even someone like you." he emphasized in a nasty tone. you pulled the shirt up over his head and uttered out. "shut the hell up." stan hummed happily after his shirt was pulled up to see that you were glaring from his reply. the two of you heard loud steps down the hall by the stairs, so you placed a finger over his mouth.

after a moment later, you heard what you assumed was someone in the bathroom, closing door the shut. letting out a breath not realizing you were holding it, stanley took this as a distraction to slip your finger into his mouth. you gasped, eyes widening, "what the hell!"

pulling your hand back, you spoke and stared in his eyes to let him know just how serious you were. "here's how it's going to go if you want to get laid, uris. we're doing this my way. don't play around anymore and definitely don’t talk too much so i can picture literally anyone other than you."

stanley looked into your eyes, searching for any hints of a lie from your remark. when he saw your eyes looking clearly back into his, he sighed in defeat. not letting it show, he grinned nastily. ”fine by me, y/l/n.”

"now, bird-boy are you sure you can handle this?" you stated more than questioned, an eyebrow quirked up. you held onto the top of his sweats with an eyebrow quirked up. he clenched his jaw, gritting his teeth together so hard he hoped they wouldn't crack. "fuck you y/n."

“no, that’s what i’ll be doing to you.” disagreeing and putting your palm over him. “what do we have here?” you asked out loud, in general all snarky. he let out an annoyed noise when he felt you tease fingertips across his hard length. so, in retaliation, he grabbed your wrist and pushed the palm of your hand harder onto him.

you gasped at how big he was. you tried to cover the surprise, a ‘tsk, tsk’ falling from your lips. not letting go quickly enough stanley noticed this and smirked at you. frowning, you murmured. "ever heard of patience? such a bad boy."

uris let out a small, quiet groan from feeling your hands come off of him. which was something you caught and figured having teased him enough, you put your hands around the waistband of his pants. tugging them off along with his boxers. afterwards you pushed him down onto the bed and before he could do anything, you quickly made work of your shirt. pulling it over your head and unclipping your bra as well.

he put a hand through his curls, smoothing them out from the fall when he fell into the comforter. watching you, he could feel himself hardening painfully. he felt needy and done with the wait. pulling your wrist closer he pleaded. “come on, hurry. please y/n.”

”fine, you’ve waited long enough like a good little boy.” stanley flushed at your approving compliment and tried to hide it, looking down. you saw this when you moved to sit on top of him and smiled. grabbing his chin lightly, you tilted his head back up. while looking into his light brown eyes, you held his wrist and tugged his hand so it laid over on top your breast.

stanley’s breath hitched and you moved inwards toward his neck. your warm breath was touching his skin, feeling cheeks reddening more. uris felt, palmed, and squeezed a little as you sucked small hickeys on his neck. not to dark but enough to be just visible if one were close up.

kissing his cheek and tilting back up, he dropped his hand and you happened to see his cheeks and neck all red. the quick switch of his attitude still shocked you to the core. ”are you sorry for calling me a bad name, baby?” he ignored your comment like a brat and kissed the inside of your wrist. you melted a little in his touch before going back to the task at hand.

you slowly let out of his grasp to unbuckle the belt and unbutton your shorts. you shimmied out of them and wanting to hurry up, you just moved your panties to the side and out of the way. pumping him a few times, you started to align him to your center. before you moved down onto him, you placed your hand on his cheeks in a sweet gesture and silently asked for reassurance. he nodded and you slowly slid down into him, both of you letting out small moans. “feel so good.” you muttered.

stilled for a moment, you let yourself adjust to his length and him to the feel. your hips went back up and you moved in forward, kissing him again. it slowly turned into a sloppy make out when you slammed your hips back down again. his tongue shoved in your mouth when you gasped in pleasure. after you found a rhythm you babbled on and on about how stanley was doing so good for you.

"i need you to put your fingers on my clit and rub." you said softly but still in a demanding tone. directing his hand exactly where you wanted it, you nodded when he looked at you again. his fingers moved quickly, drawing out an orgasm that you felt nearing.

lacing your fingers through his curly hair. stanley let out a loud moan as you tugged the locks. "now for the sake of you being able to cum, i'm going to ask again. are you sorry my baby boy?" he really didn't want to have to see the satisfactory in your face if he apologized. though, after a small moment went by, he realized that you weren't joking.

he let out a small, almost incoherent whine. pleading you with his big hazel eyes, "i-i'm sorry y/n. so sorry, c-can i cum please?" stanley would have never thought he'd be the submissive type but he found himself melting at your praises, quite easily. he liked letting you have some control and for once being able to sit back.

you smirked at him and let go. patting his cheek in almost a mocking way. "awe such a good boy but i think you can wait another minute." his eyes widened and you placed your hands back up onto his chest, steadying your balance before moving your hips back up and down repeatedly and harshly against his. he moaned when you kept going back down on his cock. feeling his pelvis right up against your very sensitive bundle of nerves, you squirmed.

stanley smirked, feeling you tighten around him. knowing you were close was a relief. constantly feeling so good on him made him hard and straining inside of you. tears prickling in the back of his eyes and wanting to cum so badly was difficult. uris felt not wanting to disobey you was more important as he patiently waited. pushing harder on your clit is what caused you to unravel, tightening completely around him. "oh fuck! s-such a good boy. cum with me now."

he came so hard, the hardest ever. which wasn't much to go off on, from the obvious conversation before. feeling euphoria, you rode through your high and his, milking every last drop of cum. you started to feel shaky. before your hips gave out, you placed one last kiss on his slightly darkening hickey.

after you fell on the bed next to him, he pulled you close. you turned your head in his embrace, eyes widening. you knew without a doubt they looked like they were probably about to fall out of the sockets. assuming even bigger eyes then richie's usual ones due to his glasses.

uris pursed his lips, kissing the top of your forehead before he could overthink it. “we need to talk. y/n/n." you tried to open your mouth, but closed it again. stanley used your nickname, he has never used it before. you were in disbelief, frozen, and unable to say a word. he rescued you and spoke up again. "you know i don't hate you, right?"

you swallowed feeling like a brick was falling from your shoulders and nodded. "i don't hate you either stan. this is not what i was expecting though to make up." you giggled causing him to chime in. the awkwardness was finally settled but you paused and asked nervously. "do you think we're worse than eddie and richie?"

he shook his head, not even needing to think on it and responded sweetly. "no, we're okay now and i have a feeling that richie will tease eddie even after we're all dead."

you laughed together once more, agreeing with stan’s opinion which would probably be a proven fact one day. "that's true. poor eddie!" snuggling closer into his back and finally, truly feeling at peace.

162 notes · View notes

tundrainafrica · 3 years

Text

Title: Lovebug (3/10)

Summary:

“It might be a bug.”

“A bug?”

“Sometimes the developers of this application make mistakes. This is our first time meeting I’m sure so…Isn’t it a bit weird that we just met for the first time and it rings like this? And for two strangers to coincidentally ring each other’s alarms?“

Levi is the developer of the Love Alarm App and Hange is married to Zeke.

Link to cross-postings: AO3

Other Chapters: 1 2 4 5

Notes: So I was really planning on my posting the next chapter tonight and wahhhh right on time @renrampant posted this beautiful piece of art inspired by lovebug. I hope this chapter satisfies <3. I hope the zekehan kiss which will be coming in a chapter or two does justice to the art too.

Levi was a man of his word and he always had been. The night he created his tinder profile, such a penchant had turned out to be more than just an inconvenient truth.

Something so ideally simple as to create a tinder profile, shouldn’t have taken him more than a few hours. Yet, Levi found himself searching, grappling for the right words to say, finding some way to make himself more attractive than he actually was. It turned out with his own meagre attributes, drawing the right person was an altogether daunting task.

Maybe he was overthinking that night. Overthinking had been enough though to leave him exhausted, retiring for the night even before he even noticed he had forgotten to place the phone by his bedside.

When he came into his senses again, sunlight was streaming through the room, turning even the dimmest corners a little less black and a little more gray. The phone was a warm heavy weight vibrating on his chest.

He had to leave for the office soon.

His sleeping schedule only provided him a generous hour and a half to shower and to commute. Frustration at not being able to complete his bio the night before had him sluggish. It had him unwillingly reaching towards the back of his mind as he showered, as he shaved and pulled his light sweater on.

He considered extirpating that nagging thought. All you have to do is put a bio right? Levi thought to himself as he made his way to the subway station. He memorized the way to work like the back of his hand, all the way until the train platform He took the risk of walking straight ahead, eyes completely glued to the screen in front of him.

How it had taken him so much focus to decide on a bio. How it had taken him so much energy and thought. He didn’t know.

Levi though was a man of his word and thus, he had ended up clicking save after typing only a few simple straightforward words.

'Currently software testing. If interested, please swipe right.’

***

“So Levi, you’re a software tester?”

Levi found himself stifling a surprise snort at that question. The sound had come out as something he managed to disguise as a clearing of his throat. Hopefully it worked.

They had just settled on one of the corner seats of a chain coffee shop, a conservative choice for a first date. That is, if he were planning on impressing her. The date felt more like an obligation than an actual passion project. And obligations always had Levi’s mind running on overdrive, even with things as simple as ice breakers.

He didn’t expect that to have been the first line of conversation. He didn’t even know how to pronounce her name yet. The woman was looking expectantly though, bending a little forward. Whether she had been feigning interest or whether she had been genuinely interested, Levi couldn’t really tell.

Technically he tested software for a living and he didn’t need to really expose himself as the head engineer of the software so he settled for a nod.

“Oh, what kind of software do you test?” The woman in front of him pressed.

Levi snuck a glance at his phone under the table. Lynn. But was it pronounced ‘lint?’ Or was it pronounced ‘line?’

He was overthinking again. But when the woman had pronounced his own name correctly, it seemed almost criminal to have to mispronounce her name. Maybe he could table that question for a while.

Or never go on a date with her again. Levi thought to himself as he looked back up at her with the most casual face he could muster. “I test biology related software,” he answered. He purposely kept it vague. He had to note she was also a love alarm user. She had mentioned that part in her bio. Bringing it up in a conversation though was another issue altogether. If he brought it up, she might ask. If the conversation continued, she might ask more.

Did he want to expose then that he was the one who had designed the actual application?

“Biology sounds very interesting,” she commented. She didn’t seem interested in Biology though.

Not as interested as Hange. That quick comparison came like an uninvited visitor and Levi found himself just slapping the phone on top of the table on impulse. The clack of the phone on the table, the metal on hardwood rattled him enough to drive those thoughts away.

Lynn jumped in surprise. “Are you okay?” she asked.

Levi felt the blood rush to his face. When he was thinking longingly about someone married, and comparing her to Lynn, his date for the day, blushing seemed like an almost welcome sensation. “I heard you use the love alarm,” Levi started. When he was already making a fool of himself, might as well go straight to the point.

“You would like to check if we’re attracted to each other huh?” She asked. “But I don’t think we’d find out by the first date…”

“I said on my profile, I wanted to test a software so that’s why I’m here now actually.” Those words forced themselves out of Levi and they came out as a disturbed flow, as guttural sounds that burned in his throat. In the end, the honest man inside him prevailed.

“Test?” Lynn had been nice enough at least to mirror him and put her phone on the table. “You wanna test the love alarm now?”

Levi nodded as he fixed his eyes on the screen in front of him. He was familiar enough with the banner in the front of the screen to know with just a quick glance. The love alarm was active.

He didn’t have to open the application or pull down the banner to know the result. He was all too familiar with how the application would work even when placed on silent mode. The banner should at least appear, with the words ‘Someone nearby is in love with you.’

If there were at least two people around them then, if somebody else rang it, Levi would have been compelled to check. Both applications were void of hearts though. Levi closed the application and pocketed his phone. “It looks like we aren’t attracted to each other.” He only realized as those words escaped from his lips, how awkward or maybe how rude of a comment it came out as.

Lynn’s eyes were wide for a second before she furrowed her brows, framing those brown eyes. “Of course, we just met. I think attraction is something that can be built over time right?” Lynn answered.

“You’re not wrong,” Levi said. Really, he didn’t even believe he could be someone who could rattle off facts about love. Hange had said it herself, he was a little inexperienced.

He wanted to be right about it though. He wanted to believe attraction could be built over time. By extension, he wanted to hold on to the possibility that attraction could also dissipate into apathy. After all, all those emotions should have been in the same ballpark.

“So what do you think?” Lynn asked. She had said some words before that but maybe Levi had reflected too deeply to have processed anything more than the face of the woman before him.

If he blinked and squinted a little afterward, he could pretend that same wavy brown hair was Hange’s. Hange’s hair though was a little shorter and a little messier and when bright light shone at it from certain angles, it came off as a little red. Hange’s eyes were a little bigger and her face was a little rounder.

Lynn was just too different from Hange to ever be Hange.

When Levi let his vision blur though, let it focus on her features slowly then all at once, he could play pretend. When looking from his peripherals, settling for blurs instead of clear pictures, he could pretend the brown hair was Hange’s, the waves that fell on her shoulders as just another layer.

He didn’t even notice it, even after they had split the bill and when she turned down his half hearted offer to take her home. That was until her last greeting came out as they parted ways along the main street that led up to the train station.

Her last greeting was a long way off from a conventional goodbye but it had done its job to get Levi’s attention.

“By the way Levi, my name isn’t Hange.” She unmatched him on tinder after that.

***

Levi decided to put a small note under his name.

Software Engineer. Currently testing software. If interested please swipe right.

It turned out though, there were people who never read bios. “So, what do you do for a living?” The woman in front of him asked. His case in point.

Hange likes reading. An invasive thought tore through him then and Levi wondered how that could have ever been related to the situation at hand.

When he questioned himself, he found out why he even reflected on it in the first place. Right, since Hange likes reading, she wouldn’t have overlooked my bio if she found me on tinder.

Of course, she wouldn’t have tinder. Levi took a deep breath then, reminding himself for the nth time that he was going to have to settle for people who weren’t married to billionaire business tycoons.

He was going to have to settle for people who weren’t Hange.

But he didn’t have to settle for her either. She was underwhelmed yet underwhelming at the same time and Levi was starting to miss Lynn already as the more desirable option.

He quickly shook his head. You don’t have to see any of these people again. All you have to do is turn the love alarm on and watch it ring. But he was feeling so underwhelmed, so disappointed with the turn out of the date in front of him just minutes into meeting her. He had entertained just the thought of cancelling their food there, the only thing stopping him being the wasted food and the poor waitress who would have to clean the mess. So he decided he could at least stay long enough to at least try.

“So, have you heard of the love alarm Nanaba?” Levi asked. He may have put just a little more emphasis in her name. After all, he didn’t want the Lynn-Hange incident happening again.

“Of course, who hasn’t learned about the love alarm app? Actually I have it with me right now.” Nanaba pulled out her phone and dropped it in front of him.

Ten years of hard and stressful work made Levi immune to even the slightest compliments. “You wanna do some testing?” He asked. “Don’t you want to see if we’re compatible?”

Compatible. That was a complex word and Levi started to doubt the applicability of that application in determining compatibility. It was a love alarm, not a compatibility alarm.

Nanaba grinned. “Sure but I have to tell you, I don’t think it actually works.”

Levi raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. He hoped it seemed genuine though. “Really?” When he momentarily thought back to the numerous support tickets logged just within the past two weeks thought, his expression may have turned just a little genuine. It was a mess of an application after all.

“I’ve been using it for a few months already... And it hasn’t rung, not even once. .”

Maybe nobody likes you. Levi had some ironclad rules about testing, always start with user errors, not with application errors and that had him instinctively blaming her but he had to note, most people had one to two matches, Nanaba didn’t look particularly unlikeable either. Just with the thought of statistics, it should have at least rung once if she kept it on regularly.

Levi quickly switched from his engineering hat to his much more empathetic yet still very shitty customer service persona. “Maybe you just haven’t found the one who could ring it for you?” The words tasted so sweet they almost instantly clabbered into sour milk in his mouth. He felt like he was in some sappy Korean drama.

“Well, it rang with my friend Mike once but we don’t see each other that way…”

“Oh, really? Then why did you say it’s broken?”

“Because it rang with my best friend and that doesn’t count...” Nanaba wanted to say more. It was all over her face and her tone.

Levi was in no mood though to play love counselor. But he wasn’t an asshole enough to cancel the food and ditch a seemingly sad woman either. The food came at the right time when Levi was entertaining the prospect of just leaving.

Nanaba looked very much in the mood to speak, speak about something a little more emotional, a little more serious than hobbies and Levi found himself hesitant to force the conversation elsewhere.

Levi came out of that date with no second date, no results. Nanaba on the other hand came out of that date with new found confidence to confess her feelings to her long time best friend.

By the time they had exited the shop, Levi was already swiping again, grumbling obscenities about how testing wasn’t supposed to be that hard.

***

“Rico Brzenska,” Levi said. There were only too many ways to mispronounce ‘Rico.’ Still, two failed dates had him careful about names already. “So what do you do for a living?” And careful about other things as well.

“I’m a student.”

Levi almost spit his tea out at that. He should have been more careful. He had read her bio, she had mentioned something about a love alarm app and that had him swiping right already. He was sure if he had seen any indication of a minor, he would have swiped left. “Really? What kind of student?” He asked, having gone subtly for his phone and pushing it further under the table.

“A graduate student taking business and commerce.”

Levi only had to take a quick glance at his settings to be sure, there were no chances of him dating a minor, as long as nobody was lying about their age on tinder. Being an honest man though, Levi had a harder time looking through white lies.

Such awareness had him studying her round face, her large blue eyes for a little longer. She could have been a minor. Or he could just be paranoid.

But when dating a minor could actually mean jail time, Levi didn’t want to take any chances. “Do you have any ID on you?”

“ID?” Rico frowned. “Why would you need an ID?”

“You said in your bio you wanted to test the love alarm right?”

Rico nodded. “Yes, I just wanna make sure before I start dating someone, we already have the initial attraction. I don’t wanna waste my time with people who aren’t attracted to me or I’m not attracted to, if you get what I mean?”

In response, Levi hummed in understanding. He did get what she meant. The last thing he wanted to do though was inadvertently ring the love alarm of someone a good many years younger than him and risk jail time. He probably wouldn’t ring it anyway.

But just in case. Levi put his phone out on the table, leaving one hand outstretched as if to wait for an ID.

No ID. No Love Alarm. He was sure that was the sign he was giving.

"Wait you don't think I'm off age do you? You think I'm lying on my profile?"

"No, I don't think you are," Levi said. Maybe his expression betrayed his words.

Rico eventually let go of an ID, a school ID from a familiar university logo Levi was sure he had seen a few times. And her face then had been one of pure irritation and maybe a hint of fury.

She narrowed her eyes at him. "There? Legal enough for you?"

Still a student, still too young to be engaging in anything with an older man, at least by Levi's standards. Still, he found himself almost obligated to just test the alarm in front of her.

Rico didn't look happy at all to be heavily scrutinized, or doubted. When she activated her application, Levi saw it as a cue to activate his own.

All you have to do is press the button. Levi told himself. He knew it wouldn't ring. He felt no attraction to her but paranoia had his brain going in all sorts of directions at once. Maybe the blood that rushed through his cheeks then was love. Maybe his hands shaking then were nervousness and excitement at meeting one's destined partner.

Also Rico wore glasses. For some reason, that had him thinking back to someone else with glasses, he wondered for a second if her eyes were much larger without those on. And he wondered if it was similar for Hange.

How such a long train of thought could have occupied him in such a short frame of time, interrupted by a quick sleight of hand, Levi didn't know.

But it had ended so abruptly, almost violently with the familiar cacophony of two love alarms ringing at once.

For a second, Levi sat frozen on the table as his mind went ahead, racing over theories and potential testing methods to deduce the root behind the outcome.

Do I have a glasses kink? That had been Levi's first thought. He looked down at his own phone to see the one heart and the bright message on top.

One person nearby is in love with you.

His second thought had been a little more objective. It's a bug. He told himself. I'll just have to do further testing.

Rico’s eyes were wide in shock. For a few seconds or so, she struggled to move and he couldn’t blame her. After all, the ringing of multiple love alarms in such a silent place like a cafe on a weekday morning was a scene that definitely had the potential to catch some people’s attention.

Levi couldn’t be too sure. He didn’t want to survey his surroundings either so he narrowed his view to just his own love alarm and back at Rico. The latter went for her phone.

From his own angle, Levi couldn’t see her interface but he was familiar with the way she had swiped it, to know she had turned it off. The two love alarms continued to ring in the silence. Even with the tension and awkwardness so thick that made it difficult to slog through, his brain was still moving.

He was blessed with at least enough deduction skills to quickly figure it out for himself.

He was in love with someone else in the room. But who? He surveyed his surroundings, keeping his view closed to only one person at a time. That gave him enough time to brush away the rest of the stares that surfaced from having made such a scene with the harsh ring of the love alarm.

Only after scanning for a second longer did his spatial awareness catch up to him. The other ringing was coming from behind. Levi turned behind him, quickly enough to catch the mop of chestnut brown hair. Fortunately, he had been slow and careful enough to pull away at the last second, missing her forehead by a hair’s breadth.

“Watch where you’re fucking going!” That had been Levi’s first instinct. After all, he was still seeing red, just imagining their heads slamming into each other in the middle of a very silent cafe.

The brunette in front of him, put one finger to her masked mouth, pointing at one of the old fashioned signs just above her seat.

In silence, there is eloquence. It read.

Hange was a very eloquent person. Levi had read enough messages from her and stalked enough of her works to know that much. Any other day, maybe any other minute, he would have been happy to listen, learn a thing or two from the master of diplomacy.

But Hange had virtually come out of nowhere. In the middle of a date.

Giving her a onceover though, noting her masked face. The only two things that made her recognizable then was her mop of brown hair tied in a ponytail and her masked mouth. Still, that had been more than enough for Levi to have seen through it.

She had settled on the seat behind him. The way she looked back at him and the way she had seemed a little too relaxed with a half finished cup of coffee just in front of her, Levi was sure she had been there for a while.

How much did she hear? Levi couldn’t ask just yet. The alarms were still ringing and as soon as Levi turned it off on his end, it stopped. Yet people continued to stare. More importantly, Rico was still staring from behind him.

“Do you two know each other?” She asked.

The answer didn’t come as quickly for Levi as he would have wanted it too. They knew each other, they’ve met at least twice. They’ve eaten out together once. But technically, did it count as ‘knew?’ Did Hange feel the same way?”

“We’re colleagues, working on the same project,” Hange answered for him.

Levi almost instantly realized he liked that answer. Colleagues. It was definitely more intimate than ‘knew each other.’ While at the same time, it held more respect in one’s skills and talent than the word ‘friends.’ And it implied in its own little way that Hange cared about the project just as much as he did.

It had been difficult to muster a straight face then. Still, he pushed forward, nodding when he struggled to stifle the motions of his mouth and the blood that rushed to his face then.

“But the… the love alarm… it…” Rico continued to speak. She shifted her eyes quickly between both Levi and Hange. “And you…” Her eyes fixed on Hange then.

Levi followed her eyes instinctively. Did Rico recognize Hange? He couldn’t confirm it for himself. Soon after that, Rico didn’t say anything in response. Instead she blinked back surprise. She started to clean out her things and place them into her bag.

“Wait, you’re leaving?” Levi wanted to pull her back. For a split second, he had reached out his hand, grasping his hand before pulling quickly back. He didn’t mind losing the chance at a second date. Just the thought of putting someone in such a tight and uncomfortable position had his stomach turning. He couldn’t for the life of him tell what she was thinking but he at least felt the tension.

Rico didn't have the most eloquent response either. “Sorry about this… I guess on my end it just feels wrong meddling in somebody else’s relationship… I don’t wanna be the one who’d stop people from getting together.”

Levi was quick to understand though. His thoughts flew back to Nanaba just a date ago and the long one sided counseling session which consisted of Nanaba’s long drawn monologues and Levi’s own grunts of understanding. The date which eventually ended with Nanaba finally figuring out for herself the best course of action.

You know, you’re right, Both of our love alarms rang. And that’s the whole point of this app right? If they both ring, it’s a sign, we should act on it.

And that was the whole point of the love alarm. How many times had he reviewed marketing material, love story commercials which ended with that same message?

Levi opened his mouth ready to speak up. By then, Rico was already out the door, any evidence of her presence just a second ago disappearing within seconds of her leaving. The chimes by the store entrance gradually slowed to a weak dance, the people who watched her leave eventually fell back to whatever they were doing beforehand, and Levi’s own protests had deadened into a light whisper.

It’s a bug. Besides, she’s married. The words had settled in his tongue like a familiar friend and he was sure if given the chance, he would have managed to say it loud and clear.

Levi looked back in his phone to see Rico had unmatched him, just a little too quickly.

“I think we should get that bug fixed soon,” Hange whispered. She sounded like she was stifling a laugh.

"For someone who's worried about the bug, you looked like you had a swell time ringing our alarms just a while ago," Levi said bitterly.

"Zeke's on a business trip and I'm bored and lonely."

“Well, don't take it out on me.” Levi took out his wallet and dropped the cash by the side of his drink, counting enough to pay for Rico’s drink too. He didn’t think too much about the receipt or the change.

The murmurs around him were more than enough to have him hurrying out of the cafe. Did they recognize Hange?

He thought it an appropriate time to satisfy his curiosity when they were both a good distance from the shop. “Do you think people recognize you as Zeke Jaeger’s partner?”

Hange put one finger to her mask. “I saw you outside the shop and when I thought of ringing your love alarm, I did what I could to prepare." Her eyes were still smiling though and Levi was sure there was a laugh behind that mask. "Besides, even though most people recognize Zeke, I don't think they'd notice me. I don’t join the interviews or events as much as he does,” Hange said.

Levi noticed though that Hange was the type to just get lost in her surroundings. Ort hat was at least what Levi had picked up on her the first few times they have gone together. She quickly relaxed after that short and quick question and answer, and in the way that she navigated through the crowds a little too clumsily yet a little too playfully, Levi found evidence backing up his mini theory.

Even if anybody did recognize her, she probably wouldn’t have noticed. And that little realization had made it much harder for Levi to stomach what just happened in the cafe. They needed to get the bug fixed fast. “Let’s go back to the office, maybe do some more testing.”

“Isn’t that why we’re here now?” Hange asked, pointing towards the general direction of their building. “I visited your office this morning because I didn't have much to doand I thought I could be helpful. You weren’t there so I asked around and one of the people from the support team told me you were out. She said probably in your favorite tea shop.”

“You met Petra?” Levi asked. “Redhead? Short?” He soon added, noting her confused expression.

Hange snapped her fingers. “Yes, that’s her name.”

“Yeah, she knows my favorite tea shop. Gets me my favorite mix of tea leaves every year for Christmas,” Levi said, more to fill the air with at least some conversation on the way back.

It took Levi a while to notice Hange had peeked at his face even as he averted his gaze, looking elsewhere.

She spoke up. “Say… Have you ever tried testing your love alarm on her?”

***

Petra was one of the newer employees, a little shy but particularly mature for her age. She was notably competent and had a particularly better handle of her emotions than most of the other colleagues. Her most important asset had been her level headedness even under the pressure of scrutiny. Petra was the type of person to know when she was attracted to someone and she was the type of person to admit it for the sake of a smoother testing process.

Thus, she was one of Levi's favorite volunteers when testing the love alarm.

And Levi was sure, to some degree she could have liked him. If he were to consider her words as truth, and the hearts at the bottom of the screen as some indication.

When they were testing every release on fifty employees over a one week period, putting results side by side with checklists and biometrics tests, they were as thorough as it could be. It was always the case that when it was the two of them testing with each other, Levi’s love alarm always rang, Petra’s didn’t. Every single time, Petra would tag that instance as ‘QA passed.’

It could have been a placebo effect or it could have also been just an admittance to get the testing process done just a little faster but Petra never seemed like the type, breezing through the awkward scenes that came with testing a love application like they were part of a job. If it ever bothered her, she never showed it.

Levi’s alarm never rang in any of the tests he had ever taken anyway. When he double checked though, lining up the results side by side with checklists of what to look out for when one was in love, he found that it never had been a big deal. He had never been attracted to anyone in particular anyway.

“So, I’m the only one your love alarm rang with huh?” Hange asked.

Except maybe Hange.“Yeah, when doing QA work, I’ve had to test with the other employees and it never rang with any of them,” Levi admitted.

“How does QA work?”

“We test with employees, users… All on a volunteer basis if I may clarify.” Levi added that last part for just a touch of professionalism. “We have acceptable ranges for biometrics, checklists and we have a certain number of results which need to fit there to consider a release viable.”

“Why don’t we test using the QA procedure?”

“Because the QA process is a logistical nightmare. We plan a venue. We plan a schedule and we have to get a certain number of people to show up.”

“No, I meant… What if we try it, just the two of us. We answer the checklists, we take each other's biometrics and see if that falls in the exact range for ‘love'?” Hange suggested and her excitable tone only made it seem like she was suggesting something almost revolutionary.

Levi sighed. “I’d rather we use QA testing as a last resort.”

Hange’s face fell. “Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“Because…” Levi would have liked to leave it at that. As he looked at Hange who had leaned on the wall, crossing her arms and staring back at him expectantly, he remembered, it was a professional relationship. If the partner of their very important investor demanded answers, she would get answers so he settled for something seemingly acceptable yet very pathetic in the grand scheme of things. “We’re going to have to answer standardized psychology quizzes and take some physical tests.”

“And I’m sure you’d have a few samples lying around. Let’s see what information we can get,” Hange said.

There were other reasons Levi had been hesitant to suggest such an exam in the first place. It had been difficult to grasp for the exact reasons until they arrived in the conference room Levi had reserved.

The room was a vacuum that had the special power of just drowning out voices, footsteps from just outside the hallway. The tables were empty, the white board put away towards the side of the room. It was clean, empty, void of any presence or even trace of it. It made Levi just a little more painfully aware of his heartbeat, his moist palms and his wild uncoordinated breathing.

He might just fail the physical exam. More specifically, he might just fail if he took it then, at the exact moment.

Grasping for some win, or at the least some comfort in that situation, he had half the mind to run through the ‘Am I in love?’ checklist or at least what he remembered from it. If he were a little honest, there might have been some things he would have checked.

But it didn’t mean he would fail it right?

“What do you think?” Hange pressed. She had settled for one of the chairs in the room.

Levi had answers, but he couldn’t share it just yet. Inviting her to take that meant that he was entertaining the prospect that they might just be in love with her---a cursed prospect.

“Or do you have any other ideas?” Hange asked. She cocked her head to one side in thought.

“If you give me a little more time to come up with something…” Levi said.

“Petra told me you have a week or two before they release the next fix. You’ve done most of the coding work. You just need to fix this bug right?” Hange was very talkative. It turned out Petra had been just a little talkative too with the right prodding by Hange. “Why don’t you wanna just test it now?” Hange's face darkened then to something almost threatening.

And maybe Levi was a little intimidated. He quickly turned away, unable to control whatever expression would force itself out of him then.

“Levi?” Her voice was grating. The echoing in the room didn’t do much to help alleviate it. “Come on, please? I want this investment as much as you do.”

If the partner of their very important investor demanded answers, she would get answers.

But it didn’t have to be the correct answers. “Fine,” Levi said. “You know, maybe the way we test this application… the way we test for love might actually be flawed so maybe some feedback from a researcher like you could be useful.”

Hange grinned from ear to ear, the ominous face of a while ago just a memory Levi could probably forget. “So where do we start?”

***

Testing for the biological numbers was quick with the right tools.

Heart rate. Hormone levels. Stress Levels. Pain Sensitivity. They had all the right test kits on hand with a document detailing the acceptable range.

All reasonable levels, albeit a little too far from the midpoint that Levi held on to the possibility that maybe they could log it all in as some coincidence. The checklists were just a little more difficult and maybe Levi was just thinking a little too far off that he had started to have a mini identity crisis.

I think about my partner a few times a day.

Partner: Referring to the person one tests the application with. Levi was aware of that much having tested the application long before. Yet for some reason, he had to loudly remind himself of that, even within the confines of his mind.

He entertained hypotheses. If Hange were his partner, that would be polyamory and that could even start the scandal of the year, or even the decade. He didn’t want to be part of that.

So he ticked ‘never’ because technically Hange wasn’t his partner anyway.

I want to be with my partner everyday.

Hange was Zeke's partner. Just the idea of getting in between a married couple had Levi's stomach turning and it had been easy to tick never right next to it.

My partner trusts me.

It was too early to tell, or so that was what Levi told himself then.

The word ‘partner’ had been a convenient term. Zeke had been a convenient presence in his mind. And that had him ticking all the 'nevers' towards the edge of the page just a little more confidently.

Technically, Hange wasn’t his partner. Technically they just met, so words like trust, amicability, happiness, charisma, compatibility and charm, didn’t have to apply to them just yet. A few minutes later, he had checked enough ‘nevers’ to have armed himself with the confidence to look her in the eye.

Hange though wasn’t reciprocating, looking deep in thought with whatever question she had been answering. She bit her lip.

Hange eventually met his gaze. Instead of being just a little more satisfied, Levi was a little disappointed, more in himself than in anyone else. For that few seconds that Hange bit her lower lip in thought, her cheekbones had seemed fuller, her hazel eyes held an almost imperceptible yet still very enthralling glimmer, and regretfully, he didn’t take the time to relish it when it was right in front of him.

“How’s the test?” Levi asked.

“It’s fine,” Hange said.

Levi slid his own answers towards her. “We just have to calculate the number of ‘always,’ the number of 'sometimes,' the number of ‘nevers’ and just match it on the document over here.” He turned his laptop towards her.

“I can do it,” Hange said, pulling the laptop towards herself. The next few minutes passed in silence. Levi stared at the ceiling, trying to keep his heartbeat in time with the clack of the keyboard. Hange typed fast and chaotically but in a way, there was rhythm and order and that had helped him get into a position where he could just drop his shoulders and fall back on the chair behind him.

“You don’t think I trust you?” Hange asked.

“It’s too early to tell right?” Levi said. That answer had been scripted and it slipped out of his mouth easily.

Hange’s let out a light sound, a cross between with a hum and a chuckle. “Well, to tell you the truth, I put here that I didn’t trust you either.”

“Well that makes both of us, I guess,” Levi said.

Hange continued to type, filling the room with some predictable rhythm, a predictable rhythm his own wild heartbeat failed to provide. Eventually, it stopped, with one loud clack on the ‘enter’ button or at least, Levi guessed it was the enter button.

Soon after, Hange leaned back on the backrest of her own chair. “Biometrics all fall in the acceptable range. Test results all fall in the unacceptable range,” she said, her tone unreadable. Too professional but Levi surmised it could be her usual ‘research’ tone. He hadn’t known her long enough to be certain.

“Maybe we should get to know each other first and try to answer again?” Hange suggested. “We just met so I can’t fully trust you yet but I think, we could get along with the right…”

Environment? Amount of time? Mutual Processing? Levi couldn’t be too sure of the answer. She had said something else after the word ‘right’ or maybe she didn’t. Still, there was a problem that needed to be solved, there was an issue that needed to be addressed that extended beyond the need to resolve the feelings between two strangers.

Or two colleagues. Levi decided he liked the word colleagues better. “So what do you suggest Hange?” Levi asked.

“I wanna do further research with this application. We can tweak whatever processes you’re using now to QA, whatever processes you’re using to determine whether people are in love. Maybe we just have to fix that a bit.”

“This application took years to develop. It’s gonna be difficult to overturn a lot of the processes.”

“Without the right funding…” Hange said. She wagged her finger and gave Levi a knowing look.

Levi narrowed his eyes accusingly at Hange. “So how’s convincing Zeke been going?”

“That’s the caveat,” Hange said. “He’s not a very techy guy. He’s an investor and scientist more than anything and sometimes, even with the right proposition, he’ll stick to some really weird reasons why he wouldn’t invest in something. I don’t blame him though since millions of dollars are usually on the line with each investment.”

" So, I’m guessing you tried to convince him?”

Hange nodded. “I did. And it looks like he won’t budge unless you fix that ‘bug.’”

“The bug which caused his love alarm to not ring around you?” And the bug which is causing our love alarms to ring. Levi added silently to himself. “Can you explain to him that we need the money to continue improving the system?”

“I’ve been with him for years, Levi. I know how he is.”

“So what do you suggest we do?”

Hange hummed. “I don’t know how programming works but...Maybe you can program the application to make it work just the way that Zeke likes it... For the time being?”

***

No. Just no.

Those were the words written all over Petra’s expression. Levi only had to look at the other faces around him to be very much sure, everyone agreed with Petra

For posterity’s sake, he repeated those words. “I understand that the regression test is done but unless I am able to get to the bottom of this bug, we won’t be able to release the fixes,” Levi said. He kept his words soft, yet still loud enough to echo through the conference room. He said it slowly and clearly. Just in case it was a bit harder to hear through shock and surprise.

“Sir, a lot of the fixes in this release have been promised for months,” Petra argued. The professionalism in her voice was still admirably apparent.

“Erwin’s orders. I’m just repeating them now,” Levi said.

“Is there anything we can do to help?” Gunther asked. “Have you found the reason behind it? I’m guessing if you do… we might have to make some changes to the code and go through regression testing again.”

“If ever that happens, I’ll handle the testing on my end,” Levi said. “It wouldn't be too hard, it’s just a blip in the code.”

“So you’ve found the cause?” Eld asked.

“Yes.” If Levi didn’t open his mouth to speak then, he was sure no one would have for the next few minutes. There was something festering in the silence, some common sentiment that he sensed among them, among those doubtful faces tinged with irritation and confusion.

He had always told them before. Always assume a user error first. And there was an apparent user error which he was sure everyone was entertaining.

What if Hange just didn’t love Zeke? A prospect that was ambrosia to Levi’s lips but at the same time a piece of ambrosia that he was sure was laced with poison. He couldn’t chew it, he couldn’t swallow for fear of just letting go for a few seconds longer, letting a smile curl up his lips during the most inopportune times.

Levi turned to Oluo in particular who he guessed would have been the one most likely to bring it up. The latter remained begrudgingly silent. It looked like no one else wanted to bring it up either. After all, Zeke was a huge opportunity for company growth, a huge opportunity for investment.

Eld spoke up.“If there’s anything we can do, just please ask. It might be too difficult of an investigation to do for one person.”

Levi shook his head. “I think this is an investigation I’d rather do alone.” There were parts of the investigation he hadn’t admitted to the team yet. All they had gotten in the report from Erwin was that Zeke’s alarm didn’t ring with Hange there but the scandal of their alarms ringing together was something he didn’t want circulating around the building.

And more importantly, there was another plan he and Hange have been entertaining, an almost unscrupulous scheme and he didn’t want anyone else involved.

***

It felt like he had run a marathon and he had been doing that slow jog for at least three days already. Or maybe it felt like he was trudging through a dessert and had been trapped there for the past three days.

He couldn’t tell for sure but his throat was constantly dry, his heart was constantly beating fast and any notification from Hange was either a water break or an oasis.

Three days ago, Zeke came back from his business trip. Four days ago, Levi sent the apk file to Hange.

“It’s a test build,” Levi said as soon as she confirmed she received it. “A test build I hard coded just for Zeke’s use.”

“Meaning…”

“Just say it’s a test build. Say I’ve fixed the code.”

“Meaning…”

“I hardcoded his data and the expected result. If he opens the alarm around you, his phone will ring," Levi explained. "It’s just a quick fix for now.”

Just a quick fix. Levi told himself multiple times. He had changed the code drastically enough though that the love alarm wouldn’t work as an expected love alarm, having customized it just to fit Zeke’s desires. For just long enough to get the money and long enough to find the actual cause of the bug.

“And tell him we’re asking for feedback before we release it,” Levi had added then.

The last time he had met her was three days ago when he dropped her the file, explained its use and when she had promised to download the apk file to Zeke’s phone.

She sent intermittent updates over the four day period. He liked it. He was enjoying it. He had confidence in the application.

Levi had to ruefully note though that the conversation never strayed too much from work. As expected from colleagues, as expected from business partners working towards the same goal.

Maybe a few times he had asked some vague questions just to get a hint of her daily life.

How’s Zeke? How are you guys?

Still, the answers always went back to updates on the application. When he was trudging to the desert or while running through some dirt track in his mind, even when the water tasted too artificially like plastic---too professional for his taste---he settled for it.

That was the only water he had after all.

Hange limited herself to ten messages a day, mentioning something about being bad at replying, apologizing for late replies. Levi had to admit though when he was working, he was guilty of a similar thing. Yet he found himself just a little irritable, a little desolate at such an outcome.

A week after he had last seen Hange, he decided to start reading the books about love again.

Love is a choice. Overused.

To love others, one must love themselves. He got that already.

Levi dropped his reader by the side of his bed and stared at the blank ceiling above him. The books on love were biased. They created for themselves an assumption, an assumption that she was his and whatever he had to deal with was some inner turmoil inside him, an inability to love. But what if he was willing to love? What if it was just a matter of circumstances just not letting him indulge in such an emotion.

He had entertained that for just a second before brushing away the nagging thought and the annoyingly sticky guilt that clung to it. Maybe there was merit in just turning off his emotions then, just discarding the overall idea of love. He deleted the books Hange had sent him from his ebook reader.

If the company got the funds, if Hange got the greenlight on her research, he would see her again, he would be forced to read those books and they would be forced to work together.

Then and there, he didn’t need to think about it just yet. He didn’t have to put himself through the pain of analyzing circumstances and emotions that left a heavy weight and an ache in his chest.

He could forget Hange until then. He could ignore her messages and maybe focus on something else like an action movie or a video game. He had streaming service subscriptions, he had game emulators on his laptop. Soon he discovered, with the right combination of focus, willpower just getting through slow starts, it was easy to immerse himself in something as mundane as a city building game.

He was halfway through building one of his farms and was already attached to the regular city goers of the small city he created for himself when his phone rang. That abrupt and grating sound had been enough of a reminder, Levi still wasn’t completely over being sad. He quickly reached for the phone on the side of his bench in an ungraceful and seemingly desperate chain of motions that had him almost ashamed of himself.

His laptop had been one of the victims, toppling over to the side of the bed but by god’s grace it had only skimmed the edges before laying flat on its side.

Levi muttered a soft curse. This message better be worth it. And the only message he decided would be worth it, would be a message from Hange which didn’t involve that stupid application.

Leviiiiiii are you free? :))))))))))

Free when? Levi was quick to reply. Now? Tomorrow? Next week? Really, he was always free, it was just a matter of asking for a leave and opening his schedule. He didn’t want to seem so pathetic as to tell her that though

Long weekend this weekend so Zeke offered to take us south to one of our country clubs.

Us?

Erwin is coming too. Levi didn't’ know whether to feel relieved or disappointed at that exposition. Before he could reply though, the messages kept coming.

Think of it as a thank you for the app ;)

And a start to a great partnership ;)

Hange had too many smileys, too many winky faces but recently, she had started to pepper her messages with just a little too much. They were colleagues, very friendly colleagues. For a second, he wondered how many smileys Hange used when messaging Zeke.

Still, Levi saw some glimmer of hope and optimism in the fact that they were creating a special bond in their own way.

And who would he be to turn down a special invite from a special colleague. I’ll see you there then :) He added his own smiley in the end, trying to forget the fact that he had wasted a good few seconds vacillating between the winking smiley face and the normal one.

Hange’s reply came quickly and maybe a little more enthusiastically. Okay! We’ll pick you up Friday night at the office :D

Levi was grateful at least he had something to look forward to.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction #zekehan

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wri0thesley · 4 years

Text

Marked - Part 1 Dio x Fem! Reader (Kinktober Day #2: Abduction)

NSFW. AFAB reader, fem pronouns. Vampirism. Abduction. Oral sex, biting, blood, marking, fucking around with Jojo vampire canon to my own ends. 5k.

Your father receives a missive at dinner; George Joestar is dead, and Dio Brando is missing, and Jonathan Joestar is set to inherit the estate. You push away your father’s suggestion that you get close to the Joestar boy - everyone knows that you and Dio Brando have a history. Your father, perhaps, does not know quite the extent - but as the memories resurface and your pounding heart does not let you rest, you retire to your bedroom for the evening. You are not to know it’s for the last time in your life. At least, the last time with a beating heart.

News travels fast, even by horseback.

Well, that’s not entirely true. Bad news travels fast - you hear of marriages of eligible suitors your father wishes you had accepted proposals from and deaths of friends who are struck with terrible consumption and melancholy quicker than you ever hear of invitations to country houses or balls. So it’s no surprise how quickly the knowledge of George Joestar’s death reaches you, being only a few cities over - your father reads the missive over dinner, and gives you the sad news with the air of a man rather too pleased by another’s misfortune.

“Wasn’t his son briefly courting you?” He asks, and you neatly wipe your mouth with the lace napkin by the table settings. You do not let the flush show on your face, even as memories of Dio Brando come rushing to the forefront of your mind. “The adopted one?”

“Mr Brando?” You ask, delicately. The thought of Dio’s wicked smile and his fingers on your back, touching the lacing of your dress, his body pressed hot and too close to you makes itself far too known for so early in the evening.

“That’s the one,” your father says. His eyes scan over the paper, his lip twisting to one side. “Looks like his adopted son’s done a runner, anyway. Perhaps you should be a comfort to his biological son in his time of need?” The way your father stresses the word ‘biological’ makes you repress a shiver; it makes you think of how he has been needling at you, reminding you that a proper young lady ought to be out of her father’s home and fulfilling her biological duty.

You have fulfilled some biological duty, at any rate - with Dio Brando, his hand between your thighs, your own fingers around his hips and your mouth open wide for the placket of his trousers to open. You’re certain that’s not what your father meant by ‘biological duty’ for his unmarried daughter.

“I’d rather think I should let him mourn in peace,” you say, your voice very quiet, your hand as steady as you can manage as you take a sip of tea from the fine china teacup. “If you don’t mind,” you stand up, slowly, “I have some correspondence that I should be replying to.”

Your father’s eyes follow you as you stand, his face set in disapproval.

“Of possible suitors, I hope,” he mumbles, low under his breath - and you decide to keep your dignity and leave the room in a flurry of skirts, trying not to let the thought of Dio Brando’s mouth hot on your neck and his body pressed snugly between your thighs overwhelm you altogether.

The correspondence is a lie, of course - you get letters, but most of the time, you throw them to the side. Your father’s ideas for suitable matches are so boring - they’re nothing compared to the fire in Dio’s eyes, the cut-glass accent slipping into the rough accent of a boy raised on the streets, the filthy words he’d given you that no respectable young lady should know. They pale in comparison, too, to Dio’s broad frame and his golden eyes and the carefully coiffed golden hair. How are you supposed to satisfy yourself with the droning on of a boring aristocrat who’s never done anything dangerous in his life when you’ve tasted danger on Dio’s lips and in trails of fire under his fingertips?

His fingers. You bite your lip, stealing a guilty look behind you. Your father will take his dinner and then retire to his study, a glass of port in his hands until he falls asleep in a stupor. Your maids are long finished with their daily tasks with only dinner things to take care of, your household rather less bustling since your mother passed away and your brothers and sisters have been married off. If you were to steal back into your bedroom instead of into the pretty little blue and white receiving room with your writing desk, nobody would be around to spy on you and wonder what you were doing.

And your body is aflame with memories, and your corset is squeezing you tight, and every rub together of your thighs as you hurry up the narrow passageway to your bedroom is torture. The maids have already lit the gas lamp, in case you want to retire to bed early, and you catch sight of yourself in the looking glass opposite your bed - your cheeks are flushed, your eyes bright, your bosom (already put to its best advantage by the tight lacing of your corset) heaving. This is the kind of look that Dio always saw you with, pulling you behind him into disused nurseries and cupboards.

“Look at you,” he’d say, bending his mouth low so that his breath tickled the shell of your ear. “If I didn’t fuck you now, somebody else would certainly get it into his head to. You look like you’re begging for it.”

Teeth dig into your bottom lip as you let yourself lay down upon the bed, soft pillows and covers beneath your back. Your fingers pull at your skirts, rucking up lace-trimmed petticoats to around your hips so your fingers can draw patterns on your thighs as your eyes flutter closed and you let the memories of Dio Brando overwhelm you entirely.

You rub softly over your mound, sweet shivers whispering down your spine as you remember how the first time Dio had touched you between your thighs, you’d been utterly scandalised.

“My chastity,” you’d hissed, through your teeth, though you’d already allowed him to kiss you harder than a husband would ever kiss his wife. “You’ll ruin me for marriage?”

Dio had raised one eyebrow cockily, his hand not moving - you had, he’d noticed, not moved his hand away from its place trapped between your thighs.

“You don’t like the idea of being ruined, darling? Because your body is telling an entirely different story.”

He’d pulled his hand away and it had glistened in the candlelight with your own slick, both at the way Dio had kissed you and the way he’d manhandled you and the dangerous position you’d allowed yourself into. Something about the thrill of danger had set a pounding between your legs like you’d never know.

You’d been unable to look away as he’d raised the fingers to his lips and tasted you, tipping his head briefly back as if savouring a fine red wine.

“Mm,” he’d said, looking at you through low eyelids, his pupils blown wide. “You taste like you want to be ruined.”

You gasp as your fingers brush your swollen clit, the organ sensitive to the touch. Dio, too, had taught you how to do this, laughing as he’d found a guest bedroom in one of the expensive country manors and he’d pushed you onto the bed, caging you beneath his massive frame.

“Touch yourself for me,” he’d said, your cheeks had flamed. “I want to see how you make yourself come apart, and then . . . then I want to show you how I’d do it.”

“I can’t,” you’d tried to say, weakly. “I-it’s not proper--”

Dio Brando had kissed you, teeth nipping at your bottom lip, hard cock in his trousers grinding into your leg.

“Is anything we do together proper?” He’d asked, pulling back, and you’d had to admit that he was right. You and he were hardly models of propriety - and if he wanted to see you touch yourself . . . well. Nothing he’d done so far has been anything close to unpleasant, and you were eager to see what other tricks he’d picked up on the streets.

One finger slides down to your entrance, toying with the pulsing hole, circling it with the lightest of touches until you can practically feel the throb in time with your heartbeat. Your breath comes in soft little pants. You would do anything to have Dio here right now instead of you, his big fingers stroking and exploring you instead of your own. But all you have is your own imagination, so your eyes flutter closed and your hips cant upwards softly.

“Dio,” you breathe out, your voice a quiet prayer in the silent room.

Where has he gone? You had gotten the impression, from your father’s face at dinner, that there was rather more to the story than just Dio Brando running off when his father had died. But then again, your father had always disapproved of your dalliance with Dio, even without knowing the real truth. He’d sniffed.

“The boy won’t inherit,” Father had said to you. “You’re better off chasing the brother, unless you want to spend the rest of your life a pauper.”

It’s like Dio to be a mystery, but not like him to run from luxury. He had always loved the feel of your expensive silks and fine embroidery beneath his fingers, had a sarcastic comment to make about an ugly and out of fashion hat, had sniffed at cheap reproduction furniture and sighed when a host had skimped out on the wine at a ball. You wonder why he hadn’t stayed - and somehow, the mystery of it all seems almost romantic.

You swear that the air in the room gets colder. One eye opens to see that the lace curtains are billowing; you suppose a maid must have opened the window a crack to let some air in. Your eyes flutter closed once more.

One finger slides inside of you, smaller and shorter than Dio’s fingers inside of you had been. It licks at the edges of the fire inside you but doesn’t stoke them the way you want, and though you gently pump it in and out of you (the slick sounds of your fingers inside you heart-rendingly loud in a way that makes you vibrate with excitement), it isn’t enough, Your second fingertip twists, stretching you open wider, and again you whimper out;

“D-Dio, please--”

There’s a whumph of displaced air, and your eyes snap open as your body is suddenly once more caged by a frame far larger than yours. You find yourself staring directly into hungry golden eyes that can belong to only one man.

“You were calling out for me,” Dio Brando murmurs. “And would I be any kind of gentleman if I didn’t help a lady in distress?”

You think of a hundred ways to respond back to him in kind; flirty little barbs about how he is no gentleman, alone with a lady in her bedroom. But instead, all you can whisper, your fingers still inside of you, your throat dry;

“H-how?”

He smiles, and you swear that his teeth were never so white and sharp. His eyes, too, you think . . . they were gold before, but did they shimmer like liquids in his face? Was his skin quite so pale and smooth and perfect? Was his voice so low and lilting and musical, as he opens his mouth to say;

“It does you no good to ask that now, darling girl,” He leans down, his lips brushing yours, and you melt against him. “Just lay back. Be good for me now.”

You do. You’re helpless under his charms - your thighs fall apart as he rears onto his knees, as his hand gently removes your fingers (those he pulls up to his mouth, kissing the fingertips, mouthing where they are dripping with your slick and making a noise that’s all pleasure to taste you). You’re maneuvered like a ragdoll - and though he does not unlace your corset or strip you of your dress, he makes you feel utterly exposed under his gaze as he drinks in how helplessly pliant you are for him.

“You’re just as beautiful as ever,” he hums, lowly, drawing one fingernail up your thigh. Were his nails so sharp, before? Like claws? He sighs as he watches the thin red line form, the bright beads of blood. “Don’t worry. It won’t hurt for long.”

You’re not sure you want his fingers inside you with claws like that, but somehow when his fingers do touch you there is nothing sharp at all. There’s just his finger, toying with your clit, as he looks down at you.

“If you knew how lucky you are,” he murmurs. “That I’m doing this for you--”

He bends his head and you feel his tongue press against your entrance, flat and wide. Your own fingers tangle in the bedsheets, back arching, as Dio laps at you. His mouth and breath and tongue feel unusually cold, but you can’t dwell on that when he’s licking at you like this, teasing your back to arch and your body to tie itself in knots.

The finger working your clit does not cease for a moment, grinding and rubbing and circling, making hot sparks of want and need burst into life in your stomach. He laps at you broadly, from perineum to just below your clit, and you’re helpless under his ministrations as you always have been, all thoughts of how he ended up here banished from your mind with how good his tongue and fingers feel. There’s nothing to muffle the soft whimpers escaping your mouth as your peak begins to build, urged inescapably forth by Dio’s tongue and clever treatment of your clit--

Dio chuckles low against you, his breath cold, and the vibrations have your back arching even higher and suddenly he’s alternating sucking on your clit and flicking it, his hand moving away to hold onto your thigh, and all of the hot tight tension in your body comes to the forefront as your peak hits you, your body a shivering mass of white noise--

Something sharp like the pricking of a needle in your thigh. The high of your orgasm, sharp in its intensity, as you take a deep gulp of air and find it will not go down properly. Darkness, edging your vision. And Dio’s voice, low and quiet, somehow muffled as if his mouth is full of liquid as he murmurs;

“Don’t worry. I’ll take good care of you.”

Your eyes open slowly, though your head is still fuzzy. You feel somehow freer - and when you look down, you see that you have been relieved of your corset and neat dress, and instead you’re wearing a nightgown of flowing white chiffon, your hair unbound from the complicated fashion of the moment. You see, too, that this is most certainly not the pretty blue and white bedspread of your own boudoir. Beneath you is a dark red blanket, the colour of blood.

Memories of Dio’s fingers and mouth on you come rushing back, and you bite back a gasp as you realise that he’s . . . kidnapped you? Can you call it that, really? Because you always thought kidnapping was done against your will, by nefarious men who wanted your fortune - right now, you’re pleased to be in a luxurious and cavernous bedroom with a man who has haunted your thoughts since you first met him.

“You’re awake.” The voice is soft and cultured, and you pull yourself up on the bed (the nightgown slips, exposing your shoulder - any other lady might feel scandalous, but Dio has seen enough of your body by now that it barely registers. “Good.” Dio is smirking, seated by the bed in a wingback armchair.

Now, you see him more clearly, without the heady arousal of your senses that had marred your judgement last time. His skin is indeed paler, his eyes brighter, his lips very red - and at the corner of his mouth, where he is smirking, a sharp white fang glints menacingly.

You know what he is. The memory of sharp pain in your thigh and how he’d stared at the blood welling in the cut from his nails, the cool breath against your own heated skin. You are well-read, you are clever, you are perhaps a little too fond of things that your father thinks macabre - and you whisper it softly.

“Vampire.”

Dio’s smile widens.

“I knew you’d guess, darling,” he says, coming to stand from the chair, leaning towards you and taking your face in his grip, turning you to look into those golden eyes. “That’s why I chose you. If you’re willing, of course.”

“Willing for what?” You ask him, breathlessly. The smile does not leave his face.

“I do not have a fortune,” he tells you. “I have been cast out by my . . .” His mouth twitches in displeasure, “brother. I have no riches, aside from my own intellect - I have survived on that before. And now, of course, I have . . .” The hand not holding your face gestures down to himself. “This preternatural blessing. I am faster and stronger and better than mortal man. And I am extending you, my darling girl - the only one who’s ever kept up with me, whose lips I cannot stop thinking about, whose eyes and mind sparkle so unlike the other dullards I’ve been forced to put up with you . . . an invitation to join me.”

“You want to make me like you?” You breathe, and though you know it should be horrifying, the prospect is not all that displeasing.

Oh, you know that he is supposed to be a reanimated corpse. That you’ll lose any chance at a heaven, that you’ll have to feast on the lifeblood of other creatures to maintain an eternal state of not quite being . . . but Dio really is glowing, in a way you’ve never seen a man do before. His grip is tight. His body draws your eye, his face even more beautiful than you remember it - and is it really so bad, to spend an eternity beside him? Beneath him?

“You can say no,” Dio says, and the hand moves from your chin, fingers stroking over the pulse point in your throat so your breath catches. “For you, I’ll make it painless. But if you say yes . . .” His eyes are bright as he sits on the edge of the bed, close to you - you can see excitement writ plain across his expression. “We’d be fierce, my darling. We’d be unstoppable. With you at my side . . . You would have everything you could ever want. Anyone who has ever hurt you, ripped into pieces. Armies at your command. And . . .” That smirk again, the one that always makes you wonder what filthy things he is planning. “We would have a hundred lifetimes to learn each other’s bodies in every conceivable way.” He reaches forward, his lips a hair’s breadth from your own. “You have no idea it feels like in a body like this, to touch and be touched . . .”

He does not have to convince you any further. You close the distance, kissing him hungrily. You moan into his mouth as his arms go around you, holding you like a ragdoll, like you weigh nothing at all.

He could kiss you for hours, you realise, without needing to draw a breath - and so, you pull back from him, and you look at him with blown wide eyes.

“Yes,” you breathe to him. “A hundred times yes.”

His eyes grow brighter, and he kisses you again - and this time, as he kisses you, he hooks a leg around you until he’s straddling you, your body pliant beneath his. The candles about the bed flicker, the air cool as Dio’s hungry hands pull at the light chiffon, ripping it as if it were paper. You’re bare beneath the fabric - and as you look down, you can see that there are angry red pin pricks on your thigh.

He bit you, then - in the bedroom, when you blacked out. The idea makes you feel heady and intoxicated. You want him to bite you again, to leave his mark all over you so the entire world knows that you belong to Dio Brando.

The thought of abandoning your old life does not make you feel in any way aggrieved - but the thought of an unfettered existence, at liberty to do whatever you want (no matter how scandalous or improper) with Dio by your side does make you feel as if your entire body is filled with fizzing, boiling water, threatening to tip over and scald you any moment.

“I want to mark you,” Dio whispers. “Any marks that you leave this life with, you take with you into the next - and I want your thighs and hips and breasts and every private part of you to scream out that you are mine body and soul.”

Spirals of heat all through your core, making a pulse beat needy between your legs. Dio’s fangs are visible, now, almost imperceptibly lengthening as you feel his cock press into your stomach where he straddles you.

“I’m yours,” you tell him, winding your arms about his neck. His silken gold hair brushes your skin, making gooseflesh rise on your shoulders. Every bit of your body sings out for his attentions - to be thoroughly and utterly claimed by Dio in any way that he sees fit. “Do whatever you want to me.”

“I’ve imagined you saying that so many times since I ascended,” he murmurs, nosing against your ear, kissing and biting at your earlobe, his lips brushing where your pulse beats an excited rhythm in your throat. “But it has never sounded so sweet.”

His body presses against yours - and though he is not hot, your own body feels like it’s burning up. He urges your thighs to spread so he can settle between them, already peeling off his own layers of clothes to reveal a body which is more marble than skin. He is so pale he almost glows in the light - but a few scars remain from his rugby days, pink and faded. They look like kisses with rouged lips on his torso, and you long to kiss them yourself. But not yet - right now, you are at Dio’s mercy, and he clearly is relishing being in control.

“Oh, but I’ve missed this,” he breathes, his mouth lowering to your nipple, his tongue coaxing it to harden beneath his lapping. “You’re so warm, darling . . . I cannot wait to have you beside me for the rest of our existences--”

He does not use the word ‘lives’ - you do not mind.

His tongue is cold, and you shiver from both the sensation of the temperature and the other sensations that he awakes in you. He kisses the nipple, pulling his mouth free with a light pop - kissing the swell of your breast, circling kisses to the underside . . . and you yelp as fangs slide into soft flesh, as Dio groans and laps at the blood that beads over the pinpricks.

They will be hidden by your dresses. He wants you marked only in the most private places - places only his eyes will see. Everyone else will know you are his by the devotion in your eyes and your own words.

He continues to kiss along your skin, his fangs every so often sinking into sensitive patches of skin, suckling lightly at you. He kisses your hips, leaving three perfect bite marks in the curve of them. Your other breast, a matching set of pinpricks that will fade into a scar. Your other hip, the dip of your waist--

Each suck and bite and kiss of the wound has another shockwave of lust emanating through your body, making your entire self throb with need. You are empty, between slick thighs - and Dio’s cock seems so far away from entering you. You sigh and clutch at sheets and cant your hips, wondering if you are soaking through the bed - and Dio chuckles, as he bites into soft flesh again and you spill for him like a ripe peach.

It is fortunate the sheets are red, for you know he is spilling much of your blood. You’re light-headed and pleasantly fuzzy as he finally - finally! - presses kisses to your thighs.

These bites send shockwaves even more potent through your body, each slide of his fangs into your flesh like they have a direct line to the pounding heat in your core. Your mouth lets out needy moans and whines as Dio methodically sinks fangs inside of you and pulls them out, as he kisses the marks and sucks at the lifeblood that he’s drawn forth from you.

Three up the right leg. You’re breathless. Three up the left leg. Your vision feels like it’s swimming - there is nothing left in the world but you and Dio, where your bodies are joined, where he is now moving and you feel his cock against your thigh.

His mouth is stained with blood when he kisses you, but you pay no heed to that as you feel his cock open you up. Your sex - slick and needy, more than ready to finally be filled - welcomes him hilting inside of you to his very base with no resistance.

“Still so tight,” he murmurs, against you, as your thighs wrap around his muscled torso, urging him deeper and deeper inside you. “Has nobody else touched you, my darling?”

“It’s only ever been you,” you breathe. “It’s only ever you I want.”

It’s true. Other men have flirted, have come to your father, have told you of grand prospects for you as their wife - but all you have ever needed is this. Dio inside you and the promise of a life far more interesting than anything they could give you. Damn your dowry and your biological expectations and everything else - after tonight, you’ll fulfil the biological expectation of you alright. You’ll dig your fangs into yielding throats and feast on other people and fuck Dio with the taste of their blood still singing in your throat.

Dio’s body and mouth against yours, the sound of him rocking inside of you, the cool flesh pressing against your heated skin. You’re overwhelmed, entirely - partly from the blood loss but more so to have him here, so real and yet so unreal. Could you really have been in your bedroom, alone, hours ago? As he rocks inside you and his cock strokes all of those sweet parts of you your own fingers can never manage, it feels like you’ve never been anywhere but beneath him. Time seems to slow down.

Each thrust of his cock hits you impossibly deep, his shaft impossibly thick, fitting inside of you impossibly well. His kisses along your face and mouth and neck seem to linger for hours and stop in moments. He fits inside of you perfectly, like a glove - when he rocks out of you, his hips pulling his length so only the head of him is still inside you - you moan out in discontent to not be filled.

With every thrust as deep inside you as he can go, there’s a coil of pressure like a ribbon being tightened around you - like corset strings, threatening to snap. You can feel it when his pelvis rubs against your nub, grinding against it and sending hazy pleasure signals to your mind. Dio does not miss it either - he pulls out, murmuring platitudes at you, only to spear you again, his rhythm speeding up as you realise that the pressure is about to overwhelm you entirely.

You pant out his name, weakly.

“Dio,” you beg, as he kisses across your throat, as he growls low in his chest and his hips seem to fuck into you impossible fast. “Dio, please--”

The beg pushes him over the edge. His cock pulsates inside of you, twitching, cool seed filling you at the same time as he grinds his pelvis just so and the ball of pressure inside you that’s been threatening to snap comes all undone. He’s never come inside of you before - too much of a risk, in the old days. But as he gives you his release, he kisses your neck and he slides his fangs into your throat and he suckles hungrily at you, far more fierce than he did for any of the other marks on your body. Once more, your vision gets hazy, aftershocks of your orgasm still lapping at you even as you sigh and think;

If he kills me now, and I never wake up . . . It will have been worth it.

You do wake up, of course. You awaken tangled in sheets and scraps of what was once your nightgown, the chiffon marked all over with blood. You wake up with your skin deliciously cool and Dio’s body pressed beside yours. You look down at your own body; your skin somehow more vibrant, though there are pin prick scars all over where Dio had bitten you. You absent-mindedly bring a finger to your throat, stroking the final scar, and Dio’s golden eyes blink at you.

“Admiring my marks on you?” He murmurs, and you laugh - even your voice seems changed. Richer and prettier, the kind of voice that could convince a man to do anything for her.

“We have an eternity together now, my darling,” Dio murmurs, shifting closer to you on the bed. You let yourself be pulled into him, resting on the hard planes of his chest. “But tonight, your first kill. The true shedding of your mortal coil. Have you any thoughts? It ought to be someone . . . special. It will be such an event for you to look back on, after all. Mine certainly was.”

His mouth curves into a smirk - and you think of George Joestar. You think of what your father wouldn’t tell you. You think of Dio, fleeing from the estate, and the ruined castle with the drafty halls that you lie on a bed within even now.

You think of your father’s disapproving looks. The way he’d suggested crassly you ought to get close to Jonathan Joestar, how he’d told you not to bother at all with Dio Brando - worthless, if he wouldn’t inherit.

Oh, you’re supremely glad you bothered with Dio Brando. And wouldn’t it be poetic parallel, for both of you?

“I think,” you say, carefully, “I should like to pay one final visit to my childhood home.”

#writing #jjba #dio brando #not sfw #kidnapping #abduction #afab reader #fem pronouns #blood #vampirism #biting #marking #kinktober collection #sexy victorian sex with VAMPIRES

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sayonarasanity · 3 years

Text

Chance With You

Summary: It is hard to see beauty in everything. Especially after a life as a soldier who had witnessed so many of his fellow comrades’ and thousands of people’s death. But Hanji wears that word as an outfit every day. It is drawn aesthetically in the way her eye lights up despite everything, in the way she examines each living being she finds in the garden, in the way her curiosity never leaving her mind. She is neither a tree nor a bird. She is a forest; she has a universe and a variety of colours in her land. Beauty is a butterfly that has perched upon her shoulder and it never leaves her side.

Link to AO3

notes: for the first part of this story I was kind of inspired by this ask. I highly recommend you to check that out as well also for Hanji's short hair see this post

A house, surrounded by some young, some old trees and green grass, with a little garden outside colourful with flowers, herbs and vegetables of different species. In the morning, the birds chirp just beyond his window, they welcome the new coming day with a melody in their tongue. The sun illuminates the sky brighter as if it had a mind of its own and it thought that a world after a gruesome war, painful sacrifices and unreasonable hatred deserves to shine more.

The familiar touch of warm fingers traces the line of scars on his face while he is still half-asleep, lying one side of his face buried on the pillow. The fingers move upwards to comb his hair back, then they slide downwards to his bare shoulders, to the space between his shoulder blades where old, pale wounds are inked permanently. Then a pair of lips are pressed on his temple, they are warm, and the touch is undeniably real. If it wasn’t, he would pray for it to go away, to disappear. Because if it wasn’t, ripping his heart out of its place would be less painful to open his eyes to the empty side of a twin bed.

“Morning, handsome.”

“Hmm,” he murmurs. Insomnia post-war still has its fair share of control over him. It is like a friend that he never intended to be close to, yet he is stuck with it inside the same cell in the same prison.

But Levi post-war had something else against it. Someone else, a third one in the cell to be accurate.

She presses her lips on his shoulder, and he half opens his right eye then shifts his head a little so that he can see her properly with his only functional, left one. Her dispersed, brown hair is the first thing that comes into his view. Then her eyes, one wounded like him and the other glittering with the daylight and her smile when she rests her head on her pillow.

“Hey,” he says with a rusty, morning voice.

Hanji reaches out with her hand to cup his cheek, her thumb caresses the scars again, goes over his blind eye then fixes his brow. “How romantic,” she sighs. “We match like broken glass.” Then her hand moves down to his undercut, her fingers warm on his rough, shaved skin. “Maybe I should get an undercut too.”

He touches the old scar on her left eye, and then her hair with his three remaining fingers. It is shorter than before, now it ends a little below her ear, curling on her nape. “It would suit you.”

“You think so?” she asks a mischievous smile shapes on the corner of her lips.

“Yeah,” he tries to suppress the smile, but his lips move slightly, nonetheless.

“Armin and Onyankopon will come for a visit today,” Hanji says.

“For what?”

“They said they had something to show us,” she shrugs one shoulder. “And that it was a surprise.”

Levi cannot think of anything. Nor his or Hanji’s birthday are close, or any holiday is on sight. Levi wonders if it is Gabi and Falco’s doing. Though as far as he knew they were away, travelling.

He raises himself on one elbow and gets his face closer to her neck to press his lips on her skin. “How much time do we have?” he murmurs as he puts his right arm next to her head to balance himself and intertwines their fingers with his other hand while leaving another kiss to her jaw.

“I don’t know,” she sighs as he kisses the sensitive skin under her ear. “An hour or so, I guess.”

“Good enough,” he whispers and finally catches her lips with his own.

“Good morning, Captain,” Armin greets him when he steps inside the kitchen. He wears a black suit; his hair is combed neatly, and he carries himself with a maturity the war he had to face so early in his life and his age has brought about. There are no traces of the insecure, irresolute boy upon him any more. But his smile and the shiny blue eyes are still the same.

“Morning,” he responds as Onyankopon and Hanji follows Armin into the kitchen. They all gather around the kitchen table. He is not a captain or anything anymore, but he lets it slide whenever Armin or one of the other kids call him that. It feels nostalgic and works well as a reminder that everything that had happened wasn’t a daydream or a shitty nightmare but an unfortunate reality.

“How do you feel, Levi-san?” Onyankopon asks, sitting across from him. He too wears a suit, a light grey one and has a matching bowler hat on his head.

“Not bad,” he says sipping from his tea.

Hanji serves their visitors two cups of tea then sits down next to him. “He actually means, I feel very good and I’m glad to be fucking alive, Onyankopon. Thanks for asking, what about you?”

Armin hides a silent chuckle behind his fist, pretending to be coughing while Onyankopon smiles and even laughs quietly. “I’m great, thank you.”

“Good,” Hanji beams.

“Stop translating me,” Levi says, glaring at her. “We speak the same fucking language.”

“Yes, we do,” she approves then adds, raising her brows with a knowing look. “But they don’t.”

“Tch,” he grunts and then sees the two younger men watching them with a weird expression on their faces. Half smiling, half questioning. His body tenses without control, and he grips the arm of the wheelchair. “Armin,” he decides to ask, just to be sure. “Do you see Hanji here?”

The blond boy blinks in confusion and stares at Hanji for a few seconds. “Yes, of course, Captain. She sits next to you.”

“Right,” he sighs.

A hand slides slowly on his back, drawing circles on top of his shirt. It immediately does its magic. His strained body relaxes under her touch. “No need to be confused,” Hanji explains, and Levi doesn’t look at her, but he just knows that she is smiling. “He is just making sure that I’m not a ghost and he hasn’t gone batshit crazy.”

Levi nor approves or rejects this accusation as he quietly proceeds to drink his tea. No one plans a murder out loud.

“Well,” Onyankopon starts, he sounds a little nervous and when Levi looks at him, he sees that his expression is also the same. “Don’t worry, Levi-san. She is as real as the greys in your hair.”

The hand on his back stops its movements, Armin freezes with the teacup half lifted to his mouth, his eyes are wide and terrified and for several seconds nobody even dares to fucking breathe.

Levi feels Hanji’s body shaking. He knows she is trying to suppress her laughter. Onkankopon opens his mouth, ready to explain himself. “I didn’t—”

“It’s okay,” Levi cuts in. “They both mean that I’m still fucking alive.”

They go outside after breakfast to see what Armin and Onyankopon came here today for. Levi had only been getting used to the midday sun dazzling his vision when he heard Hanji shrieking with joy and excitement.

“Is it what I think it is?” She exclaims bending over a black thing that he had likened to a wheelchair. He doesn’t understand the reason why she is so thrilled over it.

Onyankopon joins Hanji to explain the gadget while Armin stays next to him. “The hell is that?”

“It is a special wheelchair, Captain,” Armin explains. “Hanji-san had told us that you were sick of being pushed everywhere and we had been thinking about a solution. It took a while though,” he says sheepishly. “We’ve been kind of busy. But it’s finally completed and ready to be used.”

“This was her idea?” Levi asks, watching the excitement radiating through her body. Especially her eyes are shining even brighter than the sun hanging on top of their heads.

“Well, kind of.” Hanji sits on the wheelchair, curious idiot, and presses upon some things on the arm of the chair then screams when the thing suddenly moves forward on its own. Levi blinks his eyes, surprised. “I think she didn’t want you to feel like you were being a burden to her, so she didn’t directly ask for this, and to be honest I already had an idea in my mind when she had talked to me. So, yeah, this happened.”

Levi continues to watch Hanji who is moving forwards, backwards and to the left and right. Laughing and smirking like a child in an amusement park. “It’s amazing!” she yells. “Armin, you are a genius!”

The boy laughs and clears his throat seemingly embarrassed. “I’m glad you liked it, Hanji-san.”

“Levi!” she jumps up, and walking to where he is, she catches his hands. “Come on, you have to try it!”

She helps him get up from his wheelchair. “You know I can still walk on my own, right, four-eyes?” It takes quite an effort though, but he can.

“Don’t ruin my only excuse to touch you in public, shorty,” Hanji replies as they take slow steps towards the other, more technological wheelchair.

“You don’t need an excuse to touch me,” he says.

“Oww,” she coos. “How sweet of you—”

“Because I don’t want to be touched,” he goes on as he sits down. “In public.”

“Cruel, old man,” Hanji mutters, shaking her head.

“I’m not old, I’m only in my forties,” he objects, glaring at her. “Stop acting as if I’m a walking funeral.”

“Yes, of course, grandpa,” Hanji pats his head and Levi slaps it away.

Hanji and Armin quickly show him how the thing works and apparently it doesn’t require much of a genius to understand. He pushes upon the buttons hesitantly at first, moving only inches here and there as the three of them watch him expectantly and with an annoying curiosity. It is actually quite useful, at least he won’t need Hanji to push him whenever he wants to go out for some fresh air or he won’t need to overuse his arms. It is also more comfortable, and there is even a place on the arm to put his teacup.

“Did you like it?”

Levi looks up to see them expecting his answer. Hanji was the one to ask the question, yet it is obvious that the other two are also waiting to hear what he has to say. “Yeah,” he says causing them to take a huge sigh of relief. “Thanks.”

“I’m so happy to hear that you liked it.” Onyankopon smiles and Armin nods.

“Come on now, take a stroll.” Hanji claps her hands excitedly. “Let’s see what this baby is capable of.”

Levi had been planning to just do that. There is enough space in the yard to test the machine properly. However, before he sets on to do what Hanji has offered, he looks into her eye, intensely enough for her to frown and her expression to change into confusion. Armin and Onyankopon had already started to talk with each other and are too much preoccupied to realise what is going on. So, with that bringing him more courage, he brings one hand down and pats his knee.

She is quite surprised and a little embarrassed as a cute flush colour her cheeks and she laughs nervously, combing her hair behind her ear with one hand. “Okay.”

“Have you put on weight?” Levi questions when Hanji sits down between his knees and curls her knees to her stomach. She secures herself by putting her feet next to his leg.

“Shut up,” she chides him and wraps an arm around his neck.

He holds her by the waist with his left arm, just in case. “Ready?”

She nods and sends him a toothy grin. “Always.”

Levi presses upon the button and they move forward. There is no hesitation in his control as the machine goes faster this time, stumbling when the wheels go over some rocks or little bumps on the lawn. Hanji is ecstatic. The wind ruffles her short hair, eyes wide and lips parted slightly. It is hard to see beauty in everything. Especially after a life as a soldier who had witnessed so many of his fellow comrades’ and thousands of people’s death. But Hanji wears that word as an outfit every day. It is drawn aesthetically in the way her eye lights up despite everything, in the way she examines each living being she finds in the garden, in the way her curiosity never leaving her mind. She is neither a tree nor a bird. She is a forest; she has a universe and a variety of colours in her land. Beauty is a butterfly that has perched upon her shoulder and it never leaves her side.

“Why have you stopped?” Hanji asks, and only then does he realize that they aren’t moving anymore and that he had been staring at her thinking how fucking lucky he is to have this, this thing which is called love.

Rather than answering, he holds her nape and brings her face closer, resting her forehead against his. Then closes his eyes and inhales the smell of the soap they share together, and the odour of the tea leaves still fresh on her breath.

He feels the moment her body melts, as her fingers touch his neck, and her thumb caresses his cheek. “You okay?”

“Yeah,” he says. “Just checking.”

She laughs quietly, then leans in for a brief, soft kiss on his lips ignoring the fact that they are being watched by two of their former subordinates. Levi uses that moment to press on one of the buttons which quickly swirls the wheelchair to the right with a sudden movement. The kiss is over in a second as Hanji yelps then laughs heartily tilting her head backwards. The sun shines on her skin, and a butterfly flies around her head, fluttering its wings.

And despite all those years that had passed, and despite the places, they had seen during the last few years Levi is still positive that it is the best fucking sound this crocked world has to offer.

That was just a dream.

Levi stirs and blinks his eyes open, then almost immediately winces at his stiff neck. Curses at himself as he lifts up a hand to massage the skin. He had fallen asleep on the couch again with the TV open. His mother would’ve killed him if she were here. Good thing he had moved away for his job. He is still too young for this shit.

Accepting the fact that he has to deal with a stiff neck for the rest of the day he sits up reaching for the remote control.

That was just a dream, says Michael Stipe on the TV. The clip is almost over and the song fades. Just a dream.

He turns it off.

It is almost five in the morning and there is not even a drop of sleep left in his system. He walks to the bathroom yawning and stretching his body. His neck and shoulders crackle and he wrinkles his face. “Goddamn.”

He washes his hands on the sink and then his face, getting rid of the crust around his eyes. After that, he uses a towel to dry his face, and when the towel covers the right side of his face and his right eye, and he stares before him to the mirror he stops.

Bits and pieces of strange images slide inside of his head, a man around his forties who is sitting on a wheelchair, a blind eye, a scar running up and down one side of his face, a woman with short hair and bright eyes, a house with a garden, the sound of genuine laughter, the feeling of—

He drops the towel to the side of the sink and breathes heavily. His fingers touch the smooth skin on his face absentmindedly and he stares at his reflection. And his, thankfully still functioning blue eyes stare at him back, like they have no idea what the hell is going on. He checks his right hand to see all of his fingers are in place. Then he bends a little and slaps his leg, taps his foot on the ground for good measure.

“Huh,” he murmurs then. “Weird.”

Shaking his head, he settles on the idea that whatever he had seen was just a bizarre albeit a little too much realistic dream and sends it away to the back of his mind. Although he realizes that after remembering it, he feels somehow lighter. It is similar to the feeling one gets when the winter quietly recedes, and the trees start to give life to little flowers. That feeling of being lightweight and carefree even if it is just for a little while.

He takes a shower.

When he sits back down on the couch after the shower with a cup of tea in his hand, he opens his laptop to deal with some unread emails piled up in his inbox. He leaves the tea on the coffee table, next to his phone and puts away the towel he had been using to dry his hair.

Minutes later, when he reaches for the cup, he catches the moment his phone lighting up with a new notification.

Are you awake? The text says.

Taking the phone in his hands he taps, what do you think?

It takes only a second for his phone to start ringing. “Hey,” he opens the call. “Couldn’t sleep?”

“I’ve only just woken up,” she says but her voice sounds clear, dispersed of the sleepy roughness like she had been awake for a while. “Had a dream.”

“Bad one?” he asks as he takes a sip from his tea, his eyes scanning his laptop screen.

“Well, not really but kind of.” A pause, like she is lost in thought, then she adds. “I saw you.”

Levi hums, approvingly. “Naked?”

She lets out a loud, heartfelt laugh. “Oh my God, Levi. No,” she giggles breathlessly. “It wouldn’t be a bad dream if you were naked, you know.”

“Right,” he chuckles. “What was it then?”

“It was weird.” She stops again for a few seconds. “Like really weird.”

“You should tell me first if you want me to believe you, Hanji,” he says, not quite seriously.

She sighs. Then there is another pause which is relatively longer. Levi knits his brows and sits a little more upright. Something is wrong.

“What is it—”

“You were sitting on a wheelchair,” Hanji spills eventually, and the words die on his tongue. “And there were scars on your face. They were like war scars like you were once a soldier, a veteran. And—and you looked peaceful but also a little sad too. I don’t know. You were also older. Then there were two young people with you and a tall man. I don’t really remember their faces. I think you were travelling, you looked like tourists though I am not so sure but I-" she breaths fast, she hasn’t stopped talking for a while. “I wasn’t there.”

“Hanji,” he manages to say, despite the fact that he feels like he is choking in his own breath.

“It felt so wrong,” she goes on with a thin, frail voice. “I remember how I felt in the dream. I wanted to reach you, but I couldn’t, I tried to call out to you, but you didn’t hear. It was almost like… like I was a ghost. I was invisible. I was so desperate to just be with you and it felt so damn wrong that I wasn’t.”

“It was just a dream,” he whispers when he finds his voice. His body is frozen like he was paralyzed by something he had no control over.

“It felt so real.” He hears the tremble in her breath, and he notices how tight he had been holding the teacup. It is almost a miracle that it hadn’t been shattered to pieces yet.

“I had a dream too,” he decides to tell her.

“Oh?” She sounds interested and he is relieved to hear that her voice is back to its natural tone. “What did you see?”

So, he tells her the dream, not leaving much out except for the things he remembers himself feeling. She listens without almost a sound. He only occasionally hears her gasps and thoughtful hums and the quiet rhythm of her breaths. Only when he tells her that one of the men's in his dream was looking suspiciously similar to Armin, she adds thoughtfully that now that she thinks about it, the man in her dream was very much like Onyankopon. He flicks his fingers, of course, the other man was Onyanokpon. Though the identities of the two younger people remains a mystery.

When he finishes she is silent for a while. Possibly thinking.

“Hey, Levi,” she says, at last, drawing him out of his own deep thoughts. “Do you think we might’ve lived another life together?”

He examines the keyboard of the laptop for a handful of thoughtful seconds. “I don’t know,” he replies, honestly. Frankly, it is not that much of a long shot. “Maybe.”

“I don’t remember anything, though,” she continues. Levi imagines her lying on her back, watching the ceiling, her dark hair scattered on the pillow. “Do you?”

He almost says no, but then he recalls the dream again, and the way her skin reflected the morning sun, how her laughter touched the forgotten, drought lands in his heart and how lucky he felt to have her right beside. “I remember loving you,” he blurts, surprised even himself.

For an uncomfortably, and terrifyingly long second, she doesn’t respond. He chuckles, somewhat nervously. “Too much?”

“No,” she breathes. “No, it’s not. I just didn't expect you to say something like that.”

“Yeah,” he says dryly. “Tell me about it.”

“So, what do you think?” She asks, shifting the matter masterfully. “Which one was real?”

“How would I know?”

“Might be both,” she reasons. “Alternate realities and all that.”

“Yeah,” he mutters and shrugs although she can’t see it. “Why not?”

“Weird.” Levi holds the handle of the teacup and taps the table absently. “I wonder what happened. In my version, you know. Did I die before you? Maybe I was a soldier as well.”

Levi doesn’t like that possibility. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth but considering the two obscure dreams, it is likely. “You had a scar on your eye,” he says remembering his dream. “You most probably were.”

“Oh,” she sighs woefully. “Sorry for leaving you alone, then.”

“Yeah. Sorry for letting you die.”

She laughs. “Well, you probably had no other choice.”

He runs a hand over his face. What the actual fuck they are talking about in the goddamn wee hours? “Hanji, this doesn’t make any sense. Seriously, go back to sleep.”

“I don’t want to go back to sleep. I keep remembering the dream. I wish I had seen your version.”

He wishes the same too, to be honest. “Forget about it. Just sleep.”

“I can’t forget about it,” her voice comes muffled, like a part of her mouth is pressed upon her pillow. “You looked so fine with that scar.”

He pinches his nose but cannot stop himself from grinning like a lovesick fool for the life of him. “Idiot.”

“Would you like to hear something disgustingly cheesy and cliché?” She asks, drowsily.

“No.”

She goes on as if he had never talked. “I’m your idiot.”

“Dear, fucking Lord,” Levi struggles very hard to keep his laughter inside. “Just sleep already.”

“Hmm,” she murmurs, she is most probably about to fall asleep. “Will I see you tomorrow?”

“No, you will see me today.”

“Right, good, good,” she sighs, sleepily. “Later, then my handsome, my shorty, my one and only.”

“Dumbass,” he says affectionately but she is already snorting on the other side of the line.

#levihan #levihan fanfiction

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alice-in-wonderart · 4 years

Note

Can I request a pregnancy hcs for Lan Wangji, Lan Xichen, Wei WuXian, Song Lan and Xiao Xingchen? Thank you!!!

Hello, hello, dear. These turned out a tad shorter, since it's 5 characters, (and pregnancy is Xtreme to write) but regardless - I hope you enjoy ❤️ One fluffy request coming right up~

Lan Wangji

"I'm pregnant" "Mn"

It's not like he isn't happy, he just needs some time to realise what you've just told him. And boy oh boy, does he realise it.

*cue smol content smile*

Lan Wangji has already taken care of a child, he raised Lan Yuan. But a baby? That would be a novelty to him for sure. But a novelty he's more than ready for. Even if he doesn't think so.

Despite that, he'd take great measures to make sure he'll be the best father possible.

His excitement would be hidden, but fully noticeable to you. His eyes would sparkle more, he'd generally appear more relaxed, he'd spend more time with you. (as much as possible, that is) The only other person who'd see the excitement in his icy stare would be Lan Xichen, who'd be the second to learn of the pregnancy, right after LWJ.

Now, he isn't the #DreamHusband™️ without a reason. He'd be fully prepared with anything you might need during those 9 months. He'd talk to his brother, albeit reluctantly, for any advice on how to deal with any side effects of the pregnancy, so he could make sure you are heathy and happy.

He'd silently watch over you, always making sure you are not in harm's way. His cold glares would double towards anybody who'd dare approach you about anything, outside of Lan Xichen, Wei Wuxian and Lan Sizhui.

He wouldn't necessarily stop you from going anywhere, although he'd want to but rather - he'd just tag along. You want to go down town? He'd escort you. Want to cook something? He'll help. Oh look, a puppy! Protective husband mode - on.

Sometimes, before the two of you go to sleep, he'd lay a strong hand over your stomach, gently rubbing your skin, basking in the joy, that you are carrying his child - the product of your love. And should the baby kick? A surprised, almost mute yelp would escape his thin lips, before he'd move to leave a gentle kiss on your stomach.

He never thought, never even imagined, that one day he'd have a family of his own, with a wonderful wife right next to him, and a child to call him papa. He didn't even so much as thought he could have one of those "happy endings". It seemed such distant a future, almost as if it was make-belief. Yet during those rare moments in the dead of night, he'd think, that perhaps a happy ending is possible. Perhaps he'd get to experience that normal, domestic lifestyle loving families have. And then sleep would come a little easier, knowing you'll stay by his side until the very end.

Lan Xichen

"Oh?"

What wonderful news! He'd be the most calm and collected out of everybody. He'd hug you, pouring all of his love into the hug, promising to be by your side until the very end, that he'll try his best to be a good father, to take care of you and your child and to love you unconditionally. (which he already does)

The two of you decided not to tell everybody just yet. It would be while before it became noticeable, so you decided to keep it to yourself to avoid unnecessary attention and possible bad omens or whatever. The only person who'd know would be Lan Wangji.

At first glance, nothing much would change. He'd still have responsibilities to get to, he'd still be your loving, kind, compassionate husband.

But every time he is left alone, his mind would immediately travel to you. In fact, such occurrences would begin happening while he's presumably busy too. Zoning out and day dreaming while working were pretty uncommon for Lan Xichen, yet the constant thought of you and your well-being would cloud his vision.

That, in turn, would be a dead giveaway that something was happening in his more personal life. The first to address this would be none other than Wei Wuxian, who'd turn to LWJ. Slowly but surely, more people would begin noticing the slight, yet unusual changes in Lan Xichen. He'd leave a little earlier, reply a little later and he could be spotted with you every second away from work.

When you decided to finally announce the pregnancy, a collective "I knew it" would be all but the response you'd expect.

Behind closed doors, he'd be so sweet and affectionate with you. And don't get me started on how much he'd play music to the baby you. He'd want your child to grow up with music, which included singing and playing different instruments around you before it was even born. And you wouldn't really mind - after all, Lan Xichen's music rivalled the gods' voices, or so it was said.

In fact, with time you'd realise, that your child would indeed react to his music. If the baby was exceptionally wild, kicking and moving around, Lan Xichen's calm melodies would put it at rest. (had this happen to a friend, it was crazy) Even his voice would act as a natural lullaby to the baby.

And you already knew, that the child would grow up to fall in love with music, just like his father.

Wei Wuxian

"Wait what? Really???"

*Happy pterodactyl noises*

The happiness. The joy. The love. The pride. Wei Wuxian would be beyond ecstatic! He'd be on cloud nine the moment your announcement hit his ears. He'd have the most OVER-THE-TOP MELODRAMATIC reaction to your pregnancy imaginable.

Imagine a tsunami. Now replace the water with joy. This is how EXTREME his happiNESS IS.

But then, he'd sit down and talk to you about it properly, about how this baby would change your life together, what you'd need to do, how you'd do it. Together you'd figure out your future, as much as possible that is.

He'd make sure both you and the baby would be well taken care of, well-fed, living a nice, domestic life. He knew poverty, famine and sickness. They were his old friends. He knew what is was like growing up without much on your plate. He knew of every struggle imaginable, which came with being less fortunate, so he'd be ready to do absolutely everything to provide for you.

Once he settled down, believing he's planned ahead well, the realization would finally kick in - Wei Ying, The Yiling Patriarch, Founder of Demonic Cultivation and the pinnacle of darkness and despair, was about to be a father. And with that came in the insecurities. He'd constantly worry whether he'd be a good father, whether he'd set a good example, whether his reputation would ruin his child's life. He knew how judgemental society is, how quick it is to draw conclusions and ostracise those, who stood out. In those moments you'd have to remind him of how far he's come and how much farther you'll go together - as a family.

And a family he's wanted all of his life.

He's had some practice when it comes to kids. After all, for a brief moment he'd taken care of little A-Yuan. But then again, he was already old enough to speak, talk and think completely on his own. Wei Wuxian had never had the chance to actually take care of a baby, a newborn. That thought both terrified and thrilled him.

He'd be quick to announce of the pregnancy to all of his closest friends, but try to avoid spreading the news. Even though he was no longer considered the villain™️, you can never know who's scheming from within the shadows. With that in mind, the Twin Jades, Jiang Cheng, Nie Huaisang, Wen Ning and the Juniors would be the ones he'd excitedly inform. Soon he was going to have his own progeny! Would it be a strong, fearless handsome boy like its father, or an intelligent, masterfully cunning and dangerously beautiful girl like its mother? Stay tuned to find out!

And boy, would he celebrate the pregnancy! You'd almost make him quit drinking just to sympathise with you. Almost.

Xiao Xingchen

"We're going to have a family? Together?"

Words wouldn't be enough to describe what he'd feel. Fleeting worry in between bouts of utter elation and delight, mixed with a hint of surprise and a whole lot of internally sappy thoughts occupied his better judgement. He'd pull you in for a gentle hug, before moving to rest a hand on your head, stroking your hair, whispering lovingly how delightful a family with you would be and how he couldn't wait to meet his child.

He'd want to teach his child everything he knows, everything he was taught and everything he believes in. You'd have to remind him, that there's still much time to go before he'd have a chance to do that. A toddler can only do so much, you see.

Of course, the question about his endless travels would come up eventually. Truthfully, Xiao Xingchen would be more than willing to set his travelling aside for the time being, at least until your child is old enough to travel with you. In fact, a domestic family lifestyle suddenly wouldn't seem so out-of-reach for him and that would bring him utter delight.

The thought of a having his own loving family with a wonderful wife and adorable children had rarely crossed his mind, seeming as nothing more than a distant thought. But as you stood beside him, with a small baby bump and a child on the way, he'd realise that indeed the gods had smiled his way in the best possible way.

He'd often rest his hands on your stomach, wanting to feel the baby kick. Of course, he'd also use that excuse to be ever-closer to you. Physical affection would double, as Xiao Xingxhen found himself attached to you whenever any of you had time.

You two would often joke around about the baby too, since laughter was something sacred to both of you. And Xiao Xingchen would absolutely never fail to make you laugh, whenever worry would overcome you.

" Maybe our child will be as tall as a giraffe" "A-Chen, my love, it's 3 in the morning. Go to SLEEP."

He'd never taken care of a child before, hell you were his first love, but you'd seen him around kids when passing through different villages. His caring nature and innocent heart made him a wonderful father.

He'd never expected to one day have a family, but the very thought that you were there and you were carrying his child, would make his heart swell with pride and love. After all, he wouldn't have wanted it any other way.

Song Lan

"..."

Tall, dark and handsome over here would be utterly starstuck. He never thought he'd get to a point in his life, where he'd actually become a father. He never thought he'd have children, who would become his legacy. And as all that raced through his head, worry swept over him. Did YOU want that?

"Are you happy...we're having a baby?" The first words he'd utter.

"Of course! Are you not?"

The moment he sees your worried expression, his eyes would soften and he'd pull you in, leaving a kiss on the top of your head. "I am surprised, worried, yet thoroughly overjoyed." he'd mumble into your hair and the world around you would melt away.

Song Lan is a man of a few words, but many actions. He'd become twice as protective, keeping a steady hand on your shoulder as you walked thorough town, going out of his way to make sure you're comfortable and content, safe and sound, and of course happy.

He'd try his best to spoil you, getting you absolutely everything you might want or need. He'd even cook for you! He'd put you as his number one priority. After all, you were all he had left.

Would he silently panic whenever your stomach hurt, or you were feeling sick, or just in general felt any discomfort? Yes. Has he read a ton about pregnancy to make sure he was prepared for anything? Yes. Did he imagine every worst-case scenario in existence? Yes. Did any of that happen whatsoever? No. But Song Lan - big scary, dark and broody Song Lan, would absolutely cower at the thought that something so much as MIGHT go wrong. Of course, he wouldn't show it.

Well into the later stages of the pregnancy, he'd try to spend as much time with you as possible, to make sure he was there when the baby was going to be born. You'd already have a few names planned out, no matter the gender. The two of you would be READY. Hands down the most prepared.

He'd often lie with you, imagining what it would be like, being a father. He'd wonder whether you'd have a girl or a boy, whether it would resemble you or him more, whether it would be quiet and stone-faced, or kind-hearted and cheerful. And your answer to all of his what ifs would remain the same. "We're about to find out."

And those exact words would make his heart swell, both with love and anticipation. Of course, he wouldn't show it. But you knew better.

Thank you for reading~

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mudhorn-djarin19 · 3 years

Text

Mission: I Do - Chp. 3 (Agent Whiskey x f!reader)

Summary: A new mission has come up and you are sent off on it with Agent Whiskey as your partner. However, you have to go undercover as his fiancee. What will this mission mean for you and your harboring crush on him? This chapter is the set up to the mission. This chapter is fairly long. Makes up for the shorter and kind of lacking content in the last chapter. Hope ya enjoy ;) Rating: Explicit Warnings: mutual pining, language, hangover mention, poisioning, fighting violence, bomb mention, protected sex, and fingering (let me know if I missed any) AO3 Link | Masterlist | Join my taglist via here! Chp 1 | Chp 2 | More chapters to come!

You awake the next morning to hear Jack talking. You roll over, cracking an eye open and see Jack sitting up on the edge of the bed, glasses on his face. You make out in your hungover state that he is going over the mission with who you assume is Champ.

“Yes sir. I will inform her. She’s asleep still but she’ll understand and be okay. I’ve got her. Thank you.” He says, hanging up the call and placing the glasses back down on the nightstand. He turns around and sees you looking at him through half open eyes.

“That was Champ. I’ll tell you what he said once you are awake more. You look pretty hungover and I figured you’d be so I already ordered us breakfast in. Make sure you take the meds I left on your nightstand too for we have a big day ahead of us.” He says as he rubs a hand gently on your cheek. “You know for working at Statesman I figured you’d be able to hold your liquor better.” He teases, getting an eye roll out of you.

About half an hour passes and breakfast has finally arrived. You two sit at the table eating, your hungover state slowly going away. Thank god for the medicine, good warm food and water Jack provided to you.

“Okay so Champ got the information I sent over to him last night after you passed out. He said we’ve done good so far. Just need to use the poison he has given us to take the rest of them out. He said there shouldn’t be many more. Hopefully some of them will be at the club again tonight. Kind of hard to do at the convention. He did say that the restaurant we are to go to today for dinner has been found to be the local headquarters for the crew. We need to take anyone there out and prevent an explosion from happening since a lot of couples are going there for a special banquet meal today.” He says. “He wanted me to inform you that he knows you are new to being an agent on the field. You’re used to being behind the sense as a tech agent but, he knows you are strong with a gun and knife. So he knows you can fight. I’ll be there right beside you though to help if any trouble arises.”

You nod. You’ve only been an agent for about a year and have yet had to do any actually fighting thankfully but you trained a lot. Having an experienced agent like Jack though by your side helped you feel a lot more calm about the situation.

You two finished up eating breakfast and going over the plan for the day. By the time all of that was over you were feeling a lot better and your hangover had passed. Jack was in the shower while you stayed in the room to get dressed. Since you were just going to be attending the convention and restaurant for the day until later this evening you decided to stick with another casual look. A simple t-shirt, skirt and some boots to match with Jack’s. You were all set and ready to go aside from makeup and hair which you needed the bathroom for. You were about to knock on the bathroom door when it swung open and Jack stood there in front of you. He was shirtless but had a towel wrapped around his waist.

“Uh sorry.” He says scooting aside to let you into the bathroom. “Forgot my clothes out here.”

“I- it’s okay.” You say trying to avert your eyes. “I need the bathroom anyways for my hair and makeup. We can trade.”

God why does he have to look so good shirtless. You saw him that way at night and during missions when requiring medical attention but, seeing him now glistening from the water of his shower and wearing nothing but a towel had your heart doing back flips and your core warming. You quickly rushed into the bathroom to avoid making yourself feel anymore flustered, shutting the door behind you so he can have some privacy.

You two had made it through the convention again but found no sign of anyone new, hoping to find someone at either the restaurant or club this evening.

You made your way into the restaurant which was supposed to be the headquarters of the crew you were to take down. You stayed close to Jack, a bit worried about having to fight for the first time, and not knowing when it may happen. The host seats you at your table and presents you your menus to get started for the banquet. Jack looked over his menu while you listened to the lady talk about wedding planning and looked around the venue for anyone.

You tap Jack’s hand once the host leaves. “Over there.” Nodding your head in the direction of a crewmate going into the kitchen.

He nods, standing and follows your lead. You both sneak into the kitchen, and see 10 crewmates standing around, all have either a knife or gun on them.

“Oh sorry… thought this was the bathroom.” Jack laughs. “Just kidding.”

And on that last statement he pulls his whip out of his belt knocking two out immediately with impact. You draw your gun out shooting down and chucking your knife into another chest. Thank god your guns have silencers on them so no one out in the banquet room can hear the battle going down. You turn to shoot the other two Jack had knocked out with the whip for good measures. Okay 4 down 6 to go. You go to pull your knife from one's body when a crewmate starts to sneak up on you. Jack soon snatches his lasso out, sending the electricity flying through it and cutting the guy in half. You nod to Jack as a thank you, grabbing your knife and sinking it into another crewmate's chest. 6 down 4 to go. Jack in the meantime had already knocked 2 of the 4 left to go out with his whip. You quickly toss your gun to him for him to take them out fully while fighting one who had grabbed onto your back off. The final one comes running towards your front but you quickly take him out by sinking your knife in one final time for the fight. You struggle to get the guy on your back off but he quickly releases you after Jack shoots him down. You look down at all the bodies and sigh. You didn’t do bad for your first time really fighting. Jack took down the majority but you did take down a few and you were proud of your work. Now for the hard part. To find the device and quickly deactivate it. You two look around the kitchen until Jack finally exclaims he found a bag. You rush over and look into it and sure enough, there it is.

“This is too high tech for me. That’s your department.” He nods.

You look over the device and notice a lot of wires, you ask Jack for a knife and he gladly hands you over his pocket knife. You start cutting at wires, pushing some buttons as the time ticks down slowly. You still have a good amount of time left but, any wrong move and it could go off any moment now. After a bit of a fuss with it the timer finally disappears.

“Done!” You say, wiping your forehead and handing Jack his pocket knife back.

“How you techies figure this shit out I will never know.” He chuckles. “Well, objective one done. Champ says there is a chance of another this weekend so we have to keep our eye out. He’ll send us more information as he finds out. But we still need to find and see if we can take out the boss. Chances are we can catch him at the club tonight. If not him at least more of his damn goonies.”

You nod. “I’ll meet you back at the table. Going to clean up before going back out there.”

Jack nods in response and heads back out to the banquet room, acting as if nothing just happened. You return soon after, from fixing your hair and cleaning up any wounds.

You two were sat at a large table with some other couples, you make conversation with some and find out that a few of them surprisingly were crewmates, dropping some of the poison provided you slipped it to them when they weren’t looking and took note of who they said would be at the club tonight aside from them. You eye Jack to make sure he heard so you two can be sure to attend tonight after finishing up the dinner. Once you see the poison take it's work on the crewmates you and Jack inform those who were attendees just like you of the danger and help guide them out to safety.

Once again you are back at the club hoping to catch the boss or anymore of his crewmates. Jack once again finds himself a comfortable spot at a table while you go mingle around the dance floor to see if you can find anyone. You didn’t have as much luck tonight finding anyone like last night but, you glance over at Jack to see he has managed to grab the attention of the two men who are now sitting at the table with him. You give him some time to pick their brains before heading back over. You don’t want to disturb them and scare them off before he can get any information, assuming they are crewmates. Once you see it’s clear and he is left alone again you make your way back over to him. But as you are making your way back over you are nearly stopped in your tracks with anger.

Jack sits at the table you left him at, back turned towards you and you see a random girl walk over to him and plop herself right down onto his lap. You stay a far enough distance to watch and listen but close enough to step in soon if need be.

“Hey cowboy.” The girl winks at Jack as she wraps her arms around his neck, removing his hat to place it on her own head. “You look pretty lonely here. Need some company?” She asks and she wiggles in his lap.

You figure by now as much of a flirt Jack is he’s giving into her, not gonna let her go and will probably find some way to have some fun with her. Ruining a big part of the damn cover for the mission. But next thing you know Jack is unhooking her arms from around his neck, grabbing her by the waist to lift her off up him and set her down on the table in front of him.

“Don’t think my fiancee would much appreciate that now girl.” He says sternly. “Now go on. Get.”

“Pfft. What fiancee? I see no one around.” She snaps back irritatedly.

You then approach and set the drink you had ordered next to her, plopping your ass right down on Jack’s lap sideways, grinding down a little bit to where he audibly groans for not only you to hear but the girl as well.

“This fiancee.” You say, grabbing his hat back off her head, placing it on your own and flashing the fake ring at her. You then plant a kiss on Jack’s jawline, working your way over to his lips, capturing his between yours. You two kiss each other for a few seconds before you turn your head back to the girl still sitting there. “You heard him. Go on. Get.” You say repeating Jack’s words.

She huffs and leaves in irritation. You smirk at your work, damn proud you not only scared some random chick off from touching your “man” but also getting a little bit of a rile out of Jack when you sat on his lap. You turn back to Jack’s face who also wears a smirk.

“Well well… Look at you takin’ charge.” He chuckles, taking his hat back from your head.

You smile as a blush crosses over your face, his hand cupping your cheek and bringing your lips back to his once again. You two continue to kiss for a few minutes when Jack chuckles again. You pull away from the kiss to see he has his phone out, camera open and facing you both.

“Jack!” You blush

“What? I promise I was trying to get the crewmates I had spoken to in the shot there in the back.” He says zooming in, them obviously not being in the frame much at all due to you two taking up most of the photo. “Think we should send this one off to Champ?” He winks.

You blush and roll your eyes at his comment.

“Say… why don’t we get out of here?” He nudges you.

“But what about…?” You start to question.

“I got any information I need from the guys. Seems they are the only ones here tonight and they’ve been dropped the poison like the last few. Their boss isn't here. We’ll have to catch him at the event or his business. We don’t need to be here anymore tonight.” He states.

The walk from the club back to the hotel was short but quiet. You two didn’t say much but he noticed you shiver from the slight chill the night gave you so he had draped his jacket over your shoulders and kept his pace in line with yours, keeping a hand on the small of your back.

You arrive back to your room shortly after and as soon as you are in and shut the door, Jack grabs your torso and pulls your back against him.

“That was some good actin’ you put on back there with that little bit of jealousy and showin’ off to scare that girl. And why’d you have to go and get a rile out of me? Hm?” He whispers into your ear.

“I…um . Acting yea...” You say nervously.

Jack raises an eyebrow even though you can’t see it.

“Are you tellin’ me that wasn’t actin’ back there?” He asks

You’re too scared to speak so you just shake your head responding that no it wasn’t acting. Jack moves his hands to your hips, gripping you a bit tighter. He brushes his nose against your ear, mustache tickling your neck.

“So you mean to tell me you were actually jealous and trying to get a bit of a rile out me darlin’? He whispers into your ear.

You gulp and nod, still staying silent from nerves. You hear Jack chuckle softly before placing a kiss to your neck.

“So when were you going to tell me this? Or were you just going to keep it hidden forever?” He asks.

“Hidden…” You finally manage to say.

“Now, that’s no fun. Why would you do that?”

“I… I don’t know. I guess… I’m scared. You’re such a big shot at work. Figured you’d never be into someone as new and low level or not as much of a big shot…” You say.

Jack laughs and it takes you by surprise. He turns you around to face him. “Darlin’ you make me laugh. I’ve had my sights set on you since day one. I’ve never seen such a damn beauty until you walked through the doors at HQ on your first day. Seeing you filled the empty hole in my heart.”

You lightly smile at him and then ask. “So if you like me back why didn’t you also say something?”

“Well, same as you. Scared I guess. When you joined 2 years ago I didn’t know if you had someone. And then at the office you always seem to be annoyed by me so I had the impression you hated my guts.” He replies.

“I don’t hate you. That was just putting up a hard front to hide my true feelings. Which is that I really like you. And maybe a bit of jealousy irritation...” You blush as you say.

Jack pushes your hair behind your ear and cups your check. “Well then, I guess since we both feel the same you won’t mind if I do this.”

As he says that he crashes his lips onto yours, running his tongue along your bottom lip and dipping it into your mouth when you slightly open it. Your tongue finds his bottom lip, running over the edge before dipping it into his mouth in return. Your hands slide up into his hair, grabbing his hat and tossing it onto the nearby chair. You comb your fingers through his hair, getting a soft groan from him into your mouth. He cups the back of your neck with one hand, the other laying against the small of your back, pushing you further into him. Jack steps towards you causing you two to walk backwards until the back of your knees are hitting the edge of the bed. You topple backwards onto the bed, Jack following with but careful not to crush you. His one hand slides down from your hip to your thigh, bringing your leg to wrap around his waist. Your hands slide down from his neck to his chest, working at the buttons on his shirt when he suddenly pulls away a bit.

“Wait, darlin’ I don’t want to do anything too far unless you really want to. I mean… I’d love to. However, I don’t want to push you.” He says

“Oh shut up Jack.” You smile as you bring his lips back to yours, letting him take the hint that you want this.

He smiles back into the kiss, his hands find the zipper of your dress and starts to undo it, while you finish undoing the buttons on his shirt. You push the shirt back from his shoulders, he releases you long enough to shimmy it the rest of the way off his arms before coming back to you, pulling the straps of your dress off your upper body. His hand snakes up and squeezes one of your breasts.

“Mhm, no bra?” He sighs into your mouth.

“Can’t with this dress. It’d show because the thin straps and low cut back.” You sigh back.

“I like it.” He says as he rubs his thumb over your nipple, sending a shiver down your spine.

You lift your hips as he shimmies the rest of it off of you, discarding it at your feet. Thank god you wore slip on heels, making them easy to kick off. Jack stands and works at removing his belt, pants and boots while you crawl further back onto the bed. He crawls back onto the bed, left now in nothing but his underwear much like you and crawls over top of you. Kissing up your torso, neck and eventually lips. His one hand holds your hip while the other finds your breasts again. You snake your hand down between your bodies and cup him, feeling his rather large erection against your palm. He groans at your touch and grinds down into your hand.

“Don’t tease me darlin’” He speaks into your ear.

You smirk and grab him a bit more firm this time, getting him to grind into your hand again.

“So we’re gonna play this game huh?” He chuckles.

He pulls away from you, sits straddling your knees before he rubs a finger ever so gently at your heat, causing you to squirm.

“Damn, wet for me already?” He asks.

You have no words to say but buck you hips up at him, asking for his touch once more. He hooks his fingers into your panties and slowly works at pulling them down, leaving you fully bare before him. He whistles in response.

“Darlin’, I knew you were gorgeous before but… damn.” He says.

He leans down and presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh as he slowly sneaks a finger into your folds. You buck your hips in reply, craving more of him inside you.

“Jack, please.” You whine.

He doesn’t answer but instead sinks another finger into your folds. Filling you up even more now. He works his fingers in and out of you slowly, he brings his thumb in and starts rubbing at your clit, getting all your senses working.

“Oh god… Jack stop. If you keep going for much longer I might…” You cut yourself off with a moan

“Precisely darlin’. Just let go, it’s okay.” He smirks, picking up his pace.

He adds a third finger and continues at the faster pace for a while until you start to twitch under him. He slows as he feels you tighten and come undone around his fingers, coaxing you down from your high. He pulls his fingers out from you and licks your juices off of them.

“Sweet as a damn peach.” He says.

“Jack please.” You say, pulling at the waist line of his boxers, trying to bring him closer to you. “I want you.”

“Are you absolutely sure?” He asks, leaning down to kiss you.

“Yes. I’ve never been more sure in my life. Now please stop asking.” You chuckle into the kiss.

He leans back up and slides his boxers off, his erection springing forth. You figured he was packing but damn, you never knew he’d be packing this much. He moves and lays down next to you, leaving you looking at him confused. He then pats his thighs telling you to come and straddle him. You do as you are told. Sitting on his thighs, your folds just mere inches from his erection, aching for contact.

“Ah shit, darlin’ do me a favor and hand me my wallet? In the back pocket of my jeans.” He says.

You crawl off his lap, hopping off of the bed and grab his jeans, pulling out his wallet and returning to your spot with it in hand. He opens it and pulls out a square shiny wrapped package. He brings it up to his mouth and rips it open with his teeth, chucking the packaging and wallet to the floor. You scoot back a bit to give him some room and he pulls the condom down his length.

“Alright.” He states.

You sit back up on his thighs and smirk, running your hands up his torso.

“Are you ready?” He asks, grabbing your hips.

You nod and slide forward, straddling over him. He lines himself up with you and slowly helps you lower yourself down onto him. He takes his time pushing into you, allowing you to adjust to his length and girth. Both of you filling the room with your groans and sighs. Once he bottoms out inside of you, you two sit there for a moment, taking in one another and adjusting to the sensations. After a few moments he grabs your hips and helps by lifting you up from himself, but not fully before you are pulling yourself back down onto his length. With every thrust back down onto him it sends a wave of sensations through you as he hits that spot deep inside of you. You start at a slow pace, slowly working up to a faster pace. You feel another high rising inside of you.

“Fuck… Jack… I'm going to…” You groan through each thrust.

He glides a finger down between you two and works at your clit, rubbing fast circles. His other free hand moving to squeeze at your breasts.

“Go on darlin’, come undone around me.” He says, continuing his pace.

You start to twitch and soon you're body tenses as you come undone for Jacks twice in one night. Letting your juices soak him. As you come down from your high Jack slows his pace and then groans as he senses he is close to his high as well.

“Shit.” He curses. “I’m close…darlin’”

You continue to ride him for a bit when you feel his muscles tense up. He holds you still on him as he comes undone, groaning with every strain that releases. His grip on you loosens as he comes down from his high, you stretch your arms and hands out across his chest, leaning up to give him a kiss. He rolls you both over onto your sides, pulling out of you. You whine at the loss of contact.

“I’ll be right back, hold tight.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead before jumping up to go to the bathroom to throw away the now used condom and grab a washcloth.

He returns after a minute with the washcloth which is warm, pulling your thighs apart as he cleans any leftover mess up, same for himself. He chucks the washcloth to the floor and crawls back in bed beside you, laying on his back. You crawl over next to him, laying your head on his chest and entangling your legs with his.

“That was… really nice.” He says, stroking your hair.

“Mhmm.” You smile as you trace a finger on his chest.

Jack chuckles and kisses your head. You two lay in silence for a bit, enjoying the comfort of being close to one another.

“Jack?” You ask, looking up at him a bit. “What does this mean for us?”

“What do you mean?” He says, rubbing your shoulder.

“Well… I mean what are we? What are we going to do? We confessed to each other we’ve got feelings for each other and now we’ve screwed…” You say.

Jack chuckles and pulls you closer to him in a slight squeezing hug.

“Are we…? I mean… I don’t want to assume or if you don’t want to…” You say worriedly

Jack chuckles again and pulls your lips up to his, then speaks against your lips. “Well, I’d say we both know the answer to what you’re asking now. Hm?” He presses a kiss to your lips. “Yes. We are.”

You smile and kiss him back, snuggling into his chest farther. You two stay cuddled together enjoying the silence and each other's presence when Jack’s phone buzzes with a text message. He groans and reaches over to grab it, seeing it’s Ginger who wants to have a quick meeting.

“Shit. Ginger’s wanting to meet… must want to go over today’s report.” He says, grabbing his glasses and yours.

“Shit.” You respond, noticing how you are both still naked and cozied up to one another. “Uhh… hold on lemme just…” You say as you adjust your position a bit so the covers are covering you up to your chin, no skin showing and lay your head on Jack’s shoulder instead now.

Jack finger combs his hair a bit to make sure it’s not out of place, same for yours before you both slide your glasses on and press the button to activate the hologram call.

“Good evening…?” Ginger says slowly and questionably.

“Hey Ging, what’s up?” You respond quickly.

“Uh… well I was calling to go over your reports from today.” She says, pushing her confusion back. She’d question you later you know.

“We found more of the crewmates, took down a large chunk of em tonight at the restaurant. That’s definitely their local headquarters but I don’t think it’s the main one. I do believe the venue we got information on from the main boss is it. We’ll head over to view it in person in person this weekend, I’ll call tomorrow to book it. See what we can do. Seems anyone who uses a company one of his crewmates work for or anyone who uses his venue is those being targeted.” Jack says filling Ginger in.

“Mhm. We found the main boss at a venue booth, and a crewmate at a dress booth. No others yet at booths but there’s got to be some. We will look some more. However like Jack, I mean Whiskey said we found some others and took them out between the club and restaurant.” You add in.

Ginger raises an eyebrow at you calling Whiskey by his first name. You guys at Statesman rarely call each other by your actual first names.

“Sounds good. Keep your eyes peeled. There’s still a few out there I know and of course the main boss. Good work so far guys. Make sure to send me any pictures and information you have over whenever you can.” She smiles.

You nod and jump a little when Jack teasingly squeezes your butt under the covers to see if you reacted and Ginger noticed. And of course she did. She’s not only a smart woman who always has an eye out but your best friend.

You clear your throat. “Of course Ginger. We will do so in the morning. I’m going to go back to sleep now.” Using that as your cover to why acting so strange.

“Alright… um. Have a good night guys. Talk to you later.” She says, ending the call.

You sigh and push the covers back from your chin some, no longer having to hide. That was a close one you start to think when your phone dings. You roll off Jack’s shoulder to your side of the bed, toss your glasses down and grab your phone to see a text from no one other than… Ginger.

*Girl, I know you too well enough to know you two were definitely acting suspicious…* Her text says.

“Everything alright?” Jack asks, rolling over to his side to face you.

You crawl back over and lay on your back next to him, reading over Ginger’s message.

“Yea, just Ginger being suspicious. As one of my best friends she knows me too well to know something is up. But I’m not telling her right away, let’s see how long it takes her.” You chuckle

*What are you talking about?* You reply back

*Girl, you were all cozied up to Whiskey and acting strange. Don't think I didn’t notice… want to tell me something? ;)* She replies back. She had known about your crush on Whiskey for a while so she of course had to be the first to know if anything happened and would pretty much read you like a book.

*I just rolled over to join the call, We only have one bed here. I’m not sure what you’re talking about.* Your message says.

*Stop messin’ with me girl and fess up lol* She snarks back.

You look at Jack, for confirmation that you telling her is okay. He smirks and shrugs his shoulders in a I don’t care way.

*What if… I told you something did happen?* You hit send on the message.

*Tell me now and stop playing!* Ginger’s response read

“Send her this.” Jack smirks forwarding you the photo from the club earlier of you two kissing.

You forward the message to her with no context and immediately get a response.

*Was this for a part of the mission or for real?!* her message questions.

*Have fun figuring it out. I’ll let you know in the morning. I want to go back to be snuggled now ;)* You hit send and put your phone back on the nightstand.

You roll back over to face Jack, both chuckling at the interaction and snuggle up in his arms before dozing off for the night.

Taglist:

@sarahjkl82-blog @ickleronniekinsemotionalrange @blackberries45 @hailmary-yramliah @prideandpascal @parkjammys

#agent whiskey x reader #jack daniels x reader #agent whiskey x you #jack daniels x you #agent whiskey #jack daniels #kingsman #kingsman golden circle #fanfic #ao3 #archive of our own

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wille-zarr · 4 years

Text

The Mandalorian: "Not to a Mandalorian’s Standards”

In Fields of White ~ Chapter Six ~ “Not to a Mandalorian’s Standards”

masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

pairing: din djarin (the mandalorian) x f!reader

warnings: rated T for language; violence; angst

word count: 8.1k

chapter summary: you must make a challenging decision concerning your arrangement with din, but all is threatened when old dangers arise

story summary: fleeing from the life you wish more than anything to forget, you are left to navigate the galaxy alone as a wide-eyed wanderer. in the process of evading the dangers linked to your previous life, your destiny is forever altered when you cross paths with an intimidating mandalorian and his unusually gifted child.

a/n: uwu

also found on: Ao3

In Fields of White

Chapter Six: “Not to a Mandalorian’s Standards”

“Tell you what, Starlight-” your father’s eyes twinkle down at you- “there’s no better place in the galaxy to make a tough decision than on the back of a speeder bike, going faster than your mother would ever approve.”

Great advice, Papa.

Too bad that advice is about to get you killed.

Though, you do have a slight suspicion that when he told you “fast”, he never meant quite this fast.

But then again, knowing your dad, maybe he did.

“Oh-” you reach up, wiggling your goggles down into position- “blast it.” Gritting your teeth tightly together, you accelerate the speeder bike, shooting over the dried desert landscape of Arvala-7.

The cool evening air prickles the exposed parts of your face like a thousand sharp needles sinking into your skin, but the discomfort doesn’t distract you. You stare straight ahead, focused only on the tangled thoughts rolling back and forth in your brain in a jumbled, glued-together mess.

“Running away? You’re good at that.”

Faster. Faster.

If you could just go faster, maybe the voices would fall behind, leave you alone.

You lean forward on the accelerator, pushing the speeder bike to its absolute limits. The old bike begins to vibrate under your body, rattling as if threatening to blow apart in a thousand pieces. If you were still that adrenaline-seeking teenager, you might would take that as a challenge.

But hey, you’ve cheated death this long. It’d be a shame to lose the game at this point…

That and Cara’s the last person you’d want to upset if you destroy her bike.

You notice a cliff-wall looming in the horizon, rapidly approaching at the speed with which you are traveling. With a sharp hiss, you slam on the brakes, bracing, squeezing your eyes tightly together as you spin around in tight circles.

One…

Two...

Three…

Four spins.

You stop.

You don’t fight the grin that stretches across your face.

“Banthaspit! Hell yeah.” You peel the goggles off your face, harshly rubbing your eyes with a dust-encrusted hand. “If I wasn’t forced into hiding, the Keolith racing circuit wouldn’t know what hit it!” you snort.

With a sigh, you kick one leg over the speeder bike, positioning your body sideways on the seat. You force yourself to slowly exhale, shivering as all of the tension pent up within you tiptoes its way up your spine, releasing out into the fresh open air.

A temporary relief. Your stress rushes back in droves to fill the void.

“All wound up. You’re all wound up,” you mutter under your breath, “for no reason!”

With a groan, you flop backwards … wildly flailing your arms as you fall back against the open air.

“YIPE!” you squeak, sliding right off the bike and landing back on the ground below with a sharp oof. Groaning pathetically, you rest your head back against the dirt.

Well, at least no one saw that.

You’re not sure how long you lie that way. Not long enough, if your opinion means anything. Eventually, you gather enough motivation to crack one eye open and grimace up at the darkening sky.

All of this- this melodrama! All because some Mandalorian warrior pinned you to the ground? With his body?!

…

Oh, shit.

A Mandalorian kicked your ass and called you a brat.

You’re done for.

Your face explodes into flames. You know yourself all too well… You crave the mysterious, the exciting… all of which your proximity to the curious, cryptic Mandalorian has brought you more than an abundance of.

You can no longer ignore the red flags ding-ding-dinging in your head.

Hell.

It would probably be a… bad idea… to travel in close quarters with the Mandalorian. Not with your overactive imagination working overtime hours. Besides, when you made the deal to travel with Din, you had no idea a child would be involved.

Those dark, piercing eyes of the Mandalorian’s son appear before you, along with a pang, a squeeze in your chest.

If…if a bounty hunter tracked you down on the Razor Crest- the child… he could be hurt and…and-

Grinding your teeth, you dig your nails into the palms of your hands until you are sure you must be drawing blood.

No. Never again.

You need to talk with Din.

You know what you must do.

-------

Pulling back up to the homestead, you are met by a herd of stampeding whomp rats, also known as the Sorgan children.

“She’s back!”

“Hello!”

“We’ve been looking for you!”

“Whoa, whoa-” you toss your hands up- “One at a time, will ya?” You crack a grin. “I haven’t been this popular since a Hutt promised me his eternal love.”

“Huh?”

“What’s a Hutt?”

“Ah,” you laugh, kicking your leg over the speederbike, “I’m only joking.”

“Look, Ms. Cara, she’s back with your speederbike!”

You tear your eyes upwards, inwardly cringing as you watch Cara approaching.

“Um, look, Cara,” you laugh, rubbing your arm up and down. “I-I hope you don’t mind that I borrowed your bike, um…”

Cara crosses her arms, eyeing you with a pointed expression.

Oh, Hutt fudge.

“You wouldn’t hurt me in front of children!” You bounce back, placing the bike between you and Cara, ignoring the children’s shrieks of laughter.

Cara takes a few steps forward, inspecting her speederbike with a few brief glances. “I suppose it’s still in one piece… You sure left in a hurry.” Rubbing her hands across the handlebars, she continues inspecting the bike. “Didn’t have a chance to finish your self-defense lesson with Mando.”

Maker!

For the love of all that is holy, Cara-

“Wait-” she smirks- “are you blushing?”

KARKING HELLS!

“I’m. not. blushing.” you hiss through your teeth.

“She’s turning RED!” Birdie shrieks.

“But why?” Winta asks. “I’m confused.”

“I’m not!” Your voice cracks along with your composure.

Blast you, Cara!

If Cara wasn’t capable of twisting you up like a Bothanian Pastry, you’d have some choice words right about now.

“It’s red from-from racing this bike against the wind- is all!” You knit your brows and cross your arms tightly across your chest. “Come on, kids-” you wave your hand to the side, your strained voice giving yourself away- “I’m… I’m sure your parents don’t want you out after dark.”

“I’m so confused.” Winta sighs, trotting towards the huts with the five other children marching along behind her.

Birdie pauses behind the rest. Finally, he twists around and races back to you. Throwing his arms around your legs, he grins up at you with his adorable little missing-tooth smile, turning your heart to mush.

“See you at the bonfire!” As quickly as he threw his arms around you, he spins around and dashes away.

“Bonfire?” You raise an eyebrow at Cara.

“Yeah,” she sits back against the seat of her bike, checking over the instrument gages. “The villagers’ idea.” Cara flashes you a quick glance. “They always do this when a visitor arrives, me or Din. I do have to say, for a bunch of country folk-” Cara smirks- “they sure know how to have fun.”

Celebration. Stars, you haven’t attended a party of any kind in months! Parties were usually a thing of business for you on Nar Shaddaa. A way to make connections, play politics, earn some extra cash- whatever. The point is, they were rarely enjoyable. At times, they were downright miserable.

Maybe that association will change tonight. Yes. Yes, you will have fun; you will relax. No use getting all worked up over the conversation you must have with Din tonight…

Which is easier said than done.

“Well,” you sigh, throwing both hands on your hips and meandering away, “guess I better get cleaned up then.” You let your eyes sweep the homestead yard, noticing, sure enough, a bonfire is being constructed several yards away from Kuill’s hut. But more importantly-

No sign of Mando, thank the stars.

You aren’t prepared to face him just yet after that, um, tussle earlier…

“Sorry about giving you a hard time.”

You twist back around at Cara’s voice.

“At least, I’m sorry for doing it in front of little ears.” Cara shrugs, but she is hardly hiding the amusement etched in her eyes.

You snort. “Don’t lie.” Rolling your eyes, you spin around, marching determinedly towards Kuill’s hut. “See you tonight.”

-------

“YIPE!”

“Look, I’m sorry!”

“Fu-… uh, um, I mean, stars!” You clutch your scalp, wincing against the relentless barrage of brush strokes. You hear a snort from behind where you sit.

“You don’t exactly sound sorry, Omera.” You tilt your head backwards to find Omera, a hand on one hip, a brush in the other, shaking her head in defeat.

“I think the easiest option-” Omera angles her head to the side- “would be to just cut out the tangled bits.”

“Kriff,” you whisper under your breath, absent-mindedly tightening the bathrobe Omera lent you around your waist. “Well, still better than another twenty minutes of this torture.” You pout your lips like a child.

“Why is it so tangled?”

Twisting around in the chair, your eyes find Winta in the corner of the room, braiding her hair with a dark green ribbon.

“Eh-” you toss her a smirk- “I don’t think you’re ready to hear about Taek just yet.”

“Hmf.” Omera grunts. “Would this Taek story also explain why one side of your hair is a good bit shorter than the other?” You feel Omera’s fingers rake through the ends of your hair, tugging when they reach a tangle. “Look at that! It’s a good three inches shorter!”

A bright grin stretches across your face. “No, that’s a different story altogeth- OUCH!”

“Sorry!” The amusement in Omera’s voice is thinly veiled. “Get my scissors, Winta.”

“Bloody hells, Omera!” you hiss under your breath. “Why does everyone here take such enjoyment in tormenting me?” You lower your brow when you are met with a melody of snickers.

“What,” Omera laughs, “have the children been giving you a tough time? Or Cara? Din?”

Din.

You could really use your own Beskar helmet right about now. You feel the entirety of the blood in your body blast up to your face, radiating warmth at just the mere mention of his name.

It’s like the longer you avoid him, the more embarrassed you grow.

Tucking your face under the collar of the bathrobe, you are met with the sharp rap of scissors against your head.

“Hey!”

“Head up. Do you want straight hair?”

“Not if you’re going to keep doing that!” You crinkle your nose. “Have you even cut hair before?”

“No.”

“Maker!”

At the threat of being smacked with scissors again, you decide it is your best bet to remain perfectly still. Silently listening as Omera and Winta rattle off about what she should wear to the bonfire and what games the children could play, you feel the tension drain off your shoulders. It sounds just like a conversation you and your mother might have had once… The air grows thick, and you let your eyes slip closed, breathing deeply, imagining the room you sat in was that of your Sularian home…

A tug on your sleeve from a little hand rips you out of your reverie.

“What are you going to wear?”

“Hmm?... What? Oh.” You blink, struggling to gain back your composure. Your eyes focus in on the little face in front of you.

“Um, I guess what I always wear,” you sigh. “…Don’t have any other clothes.” A teasing smirk tickles at the corner of your mouth. “A krayt dragon ate them all up.”

Winta bursts into giggles. “It did not!”

“Nah, maybe not.”

“You could wear a dress of mine.” Omera interjects.

“Really?” Your eyes widen in delight. “Um, I- uh, could I have one with sleeves?”

Better safe than sorry… You can’t risk questions about your forearm tattoos. Besides, if

Cara and Din recognized them… things would turn, no doubt, a wee bit awkward.

“Of course! And just in case you wanted to-” Omera’s voice takes on a knowing tone- “Din and Cara will be heading into the nearest outpost tomorrow to buy up supplies before Cara heads off.” Her voice softens. “You could go along with them and buy anything you nee-”

“Blaster,” you yank around in the chair, ignoring the yelp of frustration from Omera. “Need one like-” you frown- “yesterday.”

“Fine, fine.” Omera lowers her brows. “Now, please, could you just keep your head straight?”

“Haven’t I been?”

-------

You step out of the protective darkness of Kuill’s home, grinning brightly to discover the homestead yard bounding with life. The flames of the bonfire dance, bobbing back and forth from one log to another, casting a flickering golden haze over everything in its vicinity. Chairs and colorful blankets are spread out, circling the fire. Smiling, you watch with delight as the children race around underfoot, their parents shooing them away from the tables overflowing with food.

Speaking of food, the wafting scent of it carries along with the light nighttime breeze, triggering your stomach into growling like a Rancor. With a wistful sigh, you begin to walk forward.

But, oh dear.

To get to the food, you must pass by Kuill, Cara, and Din, who’s standing against the wall of a hut, his armor gleaming reflected golden light. You don’t think they’ve noticed you… yet.

Stars, stars, stars! You haven’t prepared a mask for this. You aren’t ready to face him!

Gulping a deep breath of air, you rip your eyes away, pretending to be otherwise occupied with the starry sky.

Blast it all! How could you have been so manipulative, so charismatic on Nar Shaddaa and yet fail so miserably now?

Damn, you’re out of practice!

Carefree.

Confident.

Yeah, that’s what you’ll be. With a sharp nod of the head, you settle for a self-assured expression, hoping it’d be a solid enough cover, at least strong enough to resist any ribbing from Cara.

You instinctively reach up to your brow line to grab at what would have been your hat brim to lower it. Cringing, you stare at your open fingers. You really miss the protection of the hat… You feel… vulnerable without it.

Again, you’re beginning to more and more understand the appeal of a helmet.

“Wait, look!” One of the voices of the children interrupts your stride. “She looks like a mom!”

“Hey,” you snort, crossing your arms, “what’s that supposed to mean?”

Your eyes widen with an unease only children with no filter are capable of eliciting as they corral you, inspecting your new appearance with an intense, terrifying scrutiny.

“Stars!” You back up a bit. “It’s just a skirt! Please be kind!” you chuckle and kneel down, ruffling up the hair of the littlest boy. Your face softens as you take note of the Mandalorian’s son peeking at you from behind the children, a bit shyer than the rest. Smiling, you give him a little wink, stealing a little grin out of him.

“Enjoy their fascination while it lasts.” Omera chuckles as she walks up, resting her hands on her daughter’s shoulders. “They shower new people with attention until another new face shows up and steals the spotlight. Din was the favorite until you arrived.”

“So then, I stole you guys from the Mandalorian, did I? I’m cooler than a Mandalorian!” You chuckle with the kids as you stand back up. You tighten the knot on the front of your blouse, uncomfortable with a sudden sensation of being watched.

You know, you can just feel, that the Mandalorian is staring at you.

Oh hells.

“But-” Birdie frowns, tugging on your skirt- “you can’t fight in that!”

“Fight?” You jerk your head back, trying to make sense of his words. “You planning to fight me or something?”

Giggles.

“No, Kelsa saw you with Cara. Said she beat you up. We all wanted to watch.”

“Yeah… well.” You feel your cheeks flame when a bark of laughter reaches your ears.

“Cara!” you shout, spinning around on your heel and staring daggers in her direction.

“Sorry!”

You are about to shoot off a snotty reply when your eyes are drawn, magnetized to the singeing glare of the Mandalorian’s visor. You instantly shut your mouth.

He stares you down, arms crossed in a relaxed manner, as he leans up against the wall beside where Cara sits. You suddenly feel very, very small.

Oh… Stars.

You frown at Din, shifting your eyes away from him. You immediately slip back into your carefully crafted persona, shaking off your unease.

“Yeah, well, I’ve never been much of a fighter.” You twist around and face the children. “I’m… not very strong, much like you lot.” You sigh, pointing a finger at yourself.

You carefully tiptoe through your words. “I’ve busted my nose, broken bones, dislocated my shoulder-” you motion to each of these areas- “trying to fight with these.” Lifting both of your hands up, you clench them into fists.

Feeling a sly smile tickling at the corner of your mouth, you continue. “I think you’ll find the best fighter-” you let the smile grow- “uses this.” Pointing at your head, you chuckle and cross your arms.

“That’s fine and all-” Birdie frowns- “but I don’t see how your head could defeat the Mandalorian’s rocket dart things in a fight.”

“Rocket… darts?” You gulp. The things he hides in that armor... You steal a glance over at Din. His head is angled in that curious manner, watching your interaction with the children with great interest. You tear your gaze away, fearing your face would warm if you stared any longer.

“She means using your smarts, silly!” Winta groans.

“She is correct.” The new voice in the conversation belongs to Kuill. Grunting with exertion, he hobbles along with his cane to join the circle. The children immediately fall silent, listening reverently to the wise Ugnaught.

“Fighting isn’t everything.” Your face grows solemn with the respect that Kuill seems to elicit anytime he speaks. “Sometimes,” he grunts, “the most dangerous power… is held by the smallest among us.”

The way everyone sneaks glances with each other, you can’t help but feel everyone is in on a secret behind Kuill’s words. Discomforted, you clear your throat, letting your lazy outer rim accent slide forward.

“Gotta secret weapon, Kuill?”

Kuill’s chuckle is interrupted by a frowning Birdie.

“Maybe…” Birdie whines. “But we still wanted to watch a fight.”

You snort. “Stars, these kids are bloodthirsty.”

“Maybe if we asked politely, children,” Kuill grunts, “the Mandalorian would showcase some of his fighting prowess for us.”

The children burst into pleas and cheers, turning every ounce of their attention to tormenting Din into obliging them.

“It would be-” Kuill motions his cane at Din- “our honor to observe.”

Flopping his head back against the wall, the Mandalorian stares up at the sky. You bite back a grin when you hear him release a heavy, long-suffering sigh, detectable even at a distance.

“Stand back.”

The children and villagers fall silent, crowding together, as he shifts forward, stalking away from the building. Only the heavy clank, clank of his Beskar armor is audible, echoing in the thin night air. Everyone watches in anticipation, curious as to what the Mandalorian has in mind.

Plopping down on a blanket spread out on the ground, you cross your legs underneath yourself. A light dusting of movement against your hand startles you forward a bit. You gasp lightly, mouth falling open, as the Mandalorian’s son, the baby, crawls up beside you.

“Oh. Hello,” you chirp, taking his little three-fingered hand into your palm. “Um, ready to watch your Papa show off?”

He responds with a giggle.

Those large expressive eyes… stars! You want to turn into a pool of sugary liquid right here, right on this blanket.

Sweet face.

Sweet laugh.

The dagger twists in your heart. Grasping onto the necklace around your neck, you swallow hard, squeezing your eyes tightly together before opening them again.

You can’t think about her right now… not without losing it.

As if sensing your turmoil, the baby’s ears droop to the side.

“Don’t mind me,” you mumble. You take the baby into your arms, squeezing lightly. “L-let’s watch.”

You watch as Din freezes a good distance from the bonfire. “Cara,” he shouts with a wave.

You bite your lip, bursting with excitement when you see he has that big-ass rifle of his at the ready. He rests it pointing downwards, angling his head towards Cara as he crosses his gloved hands over the butt of the rifle.

You snicker.

Look at him.

Trying so hard to look bored. You know good and well he is thrilled to show off for everyone. You’ve seen his bathroom. Any man that uses as many hair conditioners as him would have to be a secret show-off.

Not to mention his sparkling, eye-catching Beskar.

“Diva,” you snicker under your breath.

Your thoughts are interrupted by the start of the show.

“Toss!”

Cara heaves back, launching something small and round into the air.

Din pulls back.

Rifle to shoulder.

Aim.

Blast.

A thousand sparkling, rainbow-colored lights rain down out of the night sky from the explosion, just like fireworks. You passively join the clapping and cheering, smirking to yourself as the Mandalorian continues raining sparkling shots in the sky as quickly as Cara can throw them.

You glance downwards, sharing a knowing look with the baby.

Yup.

Dad’s definitely a show-off.

You think he agrees.

After several minutes of this display, Din has adequately appeased the children’s lust for excitement and entertainment. Omera and the other two pairs of parents shoo the children towards the awaiting food. You watch from a distance as Din unloads his gun, striding towards Cara.

With a sigh, you stand, holding the baby against your chest, smiling softly when Winta motions to take him.

“I’ll take him to Momma.” Winta chirps. “I can feed him!”

“I’m sure he’ll appreciate that. Pretty sure I had his stomach growling,” you chuckle, throwing Winta and the baby a quick wink.

You clasp your hands tightly together behind you and walk over to the side of Kuill’s hut shrouded in dark shadow. A longing smile faintly brushes across your lips as you watch the commotion centered around the tables of food. Sighing wistfully, you lean your shoulder up against the wall of the hut.

This is the closest you’ve been to recreating your childhood peace in years…

There’s a part of you that wants to ask if you could hang around for a bit... But the child you used to be on those snow-covered mountains is long-gone. You cannot replace what you have lost, what’s been taken.

Besides, you would only bring danger to these people if you stayed.

You have to move on.

The clank, clank of metal rips you out of your deep introspection. You spin around on your heel, unease building in your chest as the Mandalorian strides towards you, his rifle resting carelessly across his arms.

Okay. Okay. Don’t blush. Um, just… try not think about him on top of you.

Wait, that sounded bad. KRIFF. Now you’re surely blushing!

QUICK. SABBAAC FACE.

You bite the inside of your cheek, forcing yourself to focus on the present. As he moves closer, you didn’t need to see his face to know that a smug expression graced his face. You could see it in his stride.

Smirking, you cross your arms and lift your chin at him.

“Not too shabby, Din.” You raise an eyebrow when he stops to stand beside you, letting his weapon flip to rest the end of it on the ground. “You handle that big-ass rifle pretty well, I’d say.”

He grunts, rolling his shoulders forward, only enhancing his intimidating presence that much further. Leaning against the weapon, he tilts his head sideways to stare down at you.

“Pulse rifle,” Din rumbles, amusement lacing his tone. “And as I said before, you handled my rifle pretty well yourself, Ka’r’ika.”

“But certainly-” you lower your eyebrows- “not to a Mandalorian’s standards.”

“Nope.” He jerks his head to the side.

“Ah well!” You sigh and throw your arms out. “Well, then, were my fighting skills at least up to Mandalorian standards?” You bite your lip to resist the smirk tickling at the corners of your mouth.

A deep, raspy chuckle slips out from underneath his helm. He leans over you as he walks past.

“Depends on which Mandalorian you ask.”

Oh.

Oh Maker!

MAKER!

TACTICAL ERROR!

Slapping a hand on your forehead, you spin around to rush away from the hut, deeper into the hidden darkness as you berate yourself for mindlessly flirting yet. again. You would have run off to escape again, but the wafting food lures you into turning around and staying.

That, and you’re not about to steal Cara’s bike again.

With no Mando in sight, you grab a bowl of stew. Sneaking over to an unoccupied blanket beside Omera and Cara, you curl your legs up under yourself…

…And you practically bury your nose in the bowl to hide your face when Din sits beside you to be near his son. The baby gleefully reaches his little arms out for his father who takes over feeding him.

Kriff! How could this evening get any more awkward!

“So, tell me,” Cara asks, “why’d you decide to leave Nar Shaddaa?”

You drop your spoon, coughing as you choke on the stew.

“OH-” cough- “I, uh, you know-” cough- “got… um-” cough- “…tired of it.”

“Really?”

“…Really.”

Wow. That had to be the lamest lie you’ve ever told.

Cara stares at you, mouth tight as if considering whether or not to prod you further. Din is leaning sideways, occupied with his son, but you know good and well he is listening to every word.

You return Cara’s stare, unflinching, daring her to question you further. You’ll lie much better now that you’re prepared, thank you very much.

“Nar Shaddaa?”

You have never been more grateful for an interruption! You shift your eyes over to Omera.

“I’ve never heard of it.”

You snort, perhaps a little harsher than you intended.

“Yeah, well-” you pretend to be occupied with something in your stew- “no surprise. A lady such as yourself would never work there.” You place your bowl down and tuck your knees up under your chin. “Hutt and syndicate casinos… Enough said.”

“Oh.”

You feel a bit guilty for coming on so strongly in response to a harmless statement. You feel responsible to lighten the mood, show Omera you aren’t upset. Shaking your head, you flash a manufactured grin. “Stars, you should be grateful to not know what Nar Shaddaa is like… or wow!” You pretend to gag. “The Hutts!”

“I’ll drink to that.” Cara shrugs, swigging back something the Sorgan villagers called “Oriot Juice” that smelled suspiciously of alcohol.

“Cara…” Omera chides.

“What?”

Leaning back on your elbows, you chuckle. You begin mentally drawing away, leaving Omera and Cara to their fussing.

“What did you do there?”

You rip your eyes to the right, into the unreadable visor of the Mandalorian.

“You said something about… dealing cards?”

“Uh, yeah.” You blink, a bit taken aback. “For a short bit. I- uh- mostly performed.” You really hope he doesn’t prod for more details.

He turns his head away from you, and you could have sworn you heard him mumble something under his breath.

You need to shift the topic, fast.

“I sure do miss singing though.” You flash Din a cheeky grin. “All the attention, all on me.”

He makes a noise.

“That would be in character for you.”

You stick your tongue out at him for that. “Anyway, that guitar I brought off from Taek?” You smile slyly. “Let’s just say, through some creative finagling, I ‘acquired’ it hoping to sing on the streets to earn some cash.”

Your grin plummets into a scowl. “Let’s just say that it didn’t pan out.” You cross your arms tightly across your chest. “Cheap bastards,” you grumble.

The Mandalorian laughs, a deep, hearty sound.

You blink, stunned by this victory.

A laugh! Not a chuckle, you pried a full-on laugh from the stoic warrior!

Din leans in towards you, pulling you out of your elation.

“Well, we aren’t much of an audience,” he rasps, voice grainy through the vocoder, “but we’d be better spectators than what Taek provided.”

You beam. “Yeah?”

He doesn’t respond, just leans over on his side, his son tucked in beside him asleep.

You clasp your hands together. “I need my guitar!”

He looks in the direction of the Razor Crest. “Take my key unlo-”

“Nah, don’t need to. I grabbed the guitar out of the Razor Crest earlier today.”

He stares.

“But it was…”

“Yeah?”

“Locked.”

“Yeah.”

“…How?”

You blink.

“When I said I didn’t have any skills?”

He stares.

“I actually have a few…”

“…and you really should upgrade the Crest’s security system.”

…

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

-------

You can’t believe your voice or feet or both haven’t given out!

Cara was right, these Sorganians know how to have a damn good party. When you provided the guitar, the villagers responded by pulling out their own traditional instruments.

For hours, everyone (minus one stick-in-the-mud Mandalorian) danced, spun, twisted, frolicked, and skipped until no one could barely move. As fun as all the rowdy dancing was, your heart felt warm, full after sharing your own traditional songs: one a love ballad and the other a lullaby in the Sularian language.

Exactly what the energized children needed to calm them down and help put them to sleep.

“Thanks again,” Omera whispers as she walks past you, carrying a conked-out baby inside the hut. “Those songs were absolutely beautiful.”

You only smile.

Watching the other parents carry their children in for bed, you can’t help but feel keenly…. bitter.

This should have been your life.

Should have been your siblings’ life.

Should have been her life.

…

Imperials, go straight to hell.

You clench your hands into tight fists.

“When you’ve lived as many years as I have-” you jump at Kuill’s voice- “you learn to recognize… patterns in behavior.”

“I-” you blink- “not sure wh-”

“Sadness. Anger. Loss. Fear.” He pauses to point his cane at you. “All I see in you. You’re on the run.”

Your jaw drops. “N-no-”

“It’s not my place to question.” Kuill, grunting, begins to move away. “I hope you find the peace… you seek.”

Was…

Was it really that obvious?!

You’re understandably shaken up after being directly called out like that by Kuill…

You… need some space.

Stalking, practically running, from the hut, you freeze mid-step, nearly falling over your own feet.

There he is, both arms resting atop the fence, helmet fixated on the stars. He almost looks heroic with the way his cape swirls around his legs in the light night breeze.

Well…

Good time as any to have that conversation with him.

With a begrudging sigh, you fidget with your hands as you quietly tiptoe up behind the Mandalorian. He does not move or make any indication that he’s aware of your presence, though you know by now that he must.

You grab on to the post next to him. Grunting, you begin scampering up the boards to try and sit on top of the fence beside him.

“Oh,” you growl, struggling to climb up it in a dress. “Blast this damn skir- OOF.”

Two firm hands grab at your waist from behind, steadying you.

“Easy, Ka’r’ika,” his voice, low, rumbles near your ear.

His grip releases.

You squeak something incoherent, your tongue tangling up on itself. “Um-” you nervously laugh as you balance sitting on top of the fence- “uh, thanks…?”

He leans his arms across the board right beside you, angling his helmet to stare up into your face.

“Go to bed.” He inclines his helmet in the direction of the hut. “You should rest.”

“Hmf.” You cluck your tongue. “Always telling me what to do. If you wanted me to leave, you shouldn’t have helped me up here.”

He lets his visor drop to face the ground, and you can’t help but hear the sigh that slips out from under his helm. Admiring the stars glittering against his Beskar, you follow Din’s line of sight as he shifts his gaze upwards.

You bite your lip, uncertain of how to broach your pressing topic at hand...

“The stars,” you stall, “are so bright here. That’s the only thing I like about living outside the city.”

You have Din’s full attention now.

“They remind me of the eka-worms back home on Sularia.” You sigh heavily, suddenly feeling the weight of exhaustion on your shoulders. “During the darkest, coldest part of winter, the worms would twist and weave the most breath-taking, astonishing nets of webbing, absolutely littering the trees with them until the limbs would sag under the weight.” You wave your hand through the air, re-imagining them in your mind.

A smile brushes across your lips, and you glance upwards. “In the moonlight, the webs would sparkle like stardust. Weddings, proposals, everything.” You pause. “We all wanted it done under those glistening webs.”

Your eyes finally fall back to Din, and your heart squeezes at finding him focused on your face instead of the stars.

He glances away as if considering something.

“What?” you prod.

“…How did you escape?”

You shrug your shoulders, leaning as back as far as you could without tumbling off the fence. “Would you believe I only survived the Empire’s bombardment because I was a head-strong, disobedient child?”

He didn’t answer; just continued listening to your story with full attention.

So you continue.

“I-I was twelve… Papa told me and my four siblings to run out the front door. Long story short, I went out the back.”

You wrap your arms around yourself and take a deep breath.

“Bombs dropped. I lived. They didn’t.”

Your shoulders stoop even lower, collapsing in on yourself, and you find that you don’t have the energy to continue pretending that you’re okay- that your life hasn’t always been one big… hot… mess.

“I- I found Grandpa c-coming up the mountain… to see… To find us. And- I was… I was running down it.” You cover your eyes with a hand. “He was the only f-family I had left... then he went and… died too.”

Your fault.

It was all your fault.

“Stars,” you mumble under your breath, lower lip quivering as you tighten your palms against your face.

“My family… they died, too.”

You rip your face out of your hands.

“Victims of the Clone Wars.” His voice is a whisper, barely audible.

“Well,” you sniff, roughly rubbing your eyes to hide your emotion. “I- I guess we’re not too different after all, huh?”

He shifts back on one arm, angling his body closer to yours.

“No, I suppose not.”

Maker, you feel really awful about what you’re about to bring up…

“Din, we’ve… shared a lot together in such a short time.” You purposely avoid looking his way.

You have to just say it.

“You should know that I am eternally grateful for the kindness you’ve shown me.” At that, you force yourself to face him. “I’d still be stuck on Taek if it wasn’t for you…”

His visor is glued to your eyes.

“Mando, I’m…I’m really eager to get to Keolith.”

Liar.

“So, I’m… leaving with Cara tomorrow.” You are taken aback at how hard it is to form the words, the pain squeezing in your chest. “Then I’ll jump on a transport.”

Silence.

“If… that’s what you wish.”

Even through the modulation, you can sense the confusion, the hesitation lacing his tone. Stars, you can’t even bear to look at him! How can you explain, make him understand you have no choice? His son’s safety, your own stupid overactive imagination… No, it just wouldn’t be a good idea to travel together.

“I’m sure you’ll be thrilled anyway to get me out of your ship,” you mumble, awkwardly laughing as you push at his shoulder.

He shifts, stepping back away from the fence, away from you.

He inclines his head to the side.

“Come here.”

Oh- OOF!

His gloves curl their way around your waist, and you slap your hands onto his pauldrons for balance. He drops your feet down to the ground, but his hands remain secured, glued to your waist.

“Go to bed,” he rasps. “You need sleep.”

His hands abandon your waist, but the warmth, the heat left behind burns long into the night.

-------

“Hey!” you shout out Kuill’s window. “Wait up!”

Cursing under your breath, you continue tucking your shirt down into your pants as you stumble out the door. Standing beside the two speeder bikes, Cara and Din watch, arms crossed, as you approach. Your fingers fumble around the brim of you hat, lowering it down till your eyes are practically hidden from sight.

Hell, you feel lousy. You hardly got any sleep after the previous night’s conversation with Din. You know he is just another random acquaintance, the same you are to him, but…

Oh, kriffing fine.

You like him.

You’re… you’re going to miss him.

Ah well, you’ll just have to be sure and annoy him a little extra today as a parting gift.

“I need a ride to town.” You stop and throw your hands on your hips. “Gotta buy a few things.”

“Sure,” Cara lazily responds, throwing a leg over her bike. “More the merrier, right?”

You grin and nod. “Thanks.” You throw your leg over the seat of the second bike, flicking on various switches.

“This is going to b- HEY!”

A hand grabs your shoulder, sliding you roughly back away from the controls.

“Hold up,” the Mandalorian grumbles. “I don’t think so.”

“Din!” You swat at his hand. “Stop, no! Let me drive! You drive like an old man!”

“I mean, he could feasibly be one, for all we know.”

“Cara-”

“Din!” you growl, tumbling off the opposite side of the bike. You leap up to your feet, but it’s already too late. Din is settled down in front of the controls, watching you with his helmet inclined to the side.

He places a hand on his thigh and jerks his helmet towards the open seat behind him.

“Fine.” You stick your tongue out at him and spin around on your heel. “Then I’m riding with Car-”

Cara blasts off, leaving a trail of dust wafting behind her.

Slowly, you turn back around.

Din shoves out a hand, motioning again to the empty speeder bike seat behind him.

“Kriff it,” you grumble, throwing your leg back across the seat. You let your body slip down, molding itself completely to the back of his armor. You reach up, lowering your goggles over your eyes.

“Fine,” you bark, wrapping your arms around his middle. “Let’s ride.”

He kicks the bike into gear, and with a satisfying rev of the engine, away you blast into the desert horizon.

Definitely faster than expected.

“Guess you took my ribbing to heart,” you think with a grin. You let your arms relax their grip around his midsection, resisting the urge to throw your hands up and feel the passing breeze.

His hand grabs yours, pulling it back tighter around himself.

“Fine!” you shout over the noise. “Mother hen.”

He releases your hand, and you sigh, snuggling down into his cape, relaxed in the knowledge that you are safe for a few more days, as long as you are with him.

-------

Din and Cara park out of the way in a side alley where the bikes should hopefully remain unnoticed and undisturbed. You walk ahead of them, staring up and down the main street of the outpost. You lift your goggles off your head, reading over the various shop store signs.

Ah, yes, you see exactly what you need.

“Cara, Mando!” You turn back around. “Meet you back at the bikes later!”

“Stay out of trouble.”

You flash Din a grin.

“Always.”

Your first stop is to pick out a few new garments to replace those that flew away for a permanent vacation with the smuggler’s crew. You’ll wait until you’ve actually settled on Keolith to replace everything, but a few undergarments, blouses, pants, and gloves, and you are good to go for the time being. You stuff these goods away in your side satchel.

It… feels strange to own things again.

Next stop: weapons.

With a downright mischievous grin on your face, you enter the shop like a kid in a candy store.

“How can I help you?”

“Yeah, I need a blaster pistol, preferably something small but still packs a punch.”

You pause, eyeing something out of the corner of your eye.

“And a vibroblade.”

Oh, hell yeah.

-------

Walking back in the direction of the speeder bikes, you turn the vibroblade over in your hands.

“Maker! This thing’s sick.” You try twirling it in your hand, giving it a toss, cringing as it flies sideways. “Um, no one saw that,” you mumble, picking it back up. “Guess I’ll need a little, uh, practice.”

Lost in your own amusement, you march around the corner into the alleyway, focused only on the viroblade in your hands.

“Hopefully, Cara and Din won’t tak-”

Wait.

Hold up.

Who are…?

“Hey!” you shout, throwing a hand on your hip, “I don’t know who you are, but those are not your bikes.”

You pause, cringing inwardly. You may own a weapon again, it’s still a pretty bad idea to smart-mouth strangers…

The blue Twi’lek male and a brown-haired human female, both cloaked in black, remain motionless, leaning against the bikes with their arms crossed.

“Uh,” you hesitate mid-stride, falling dead still. “…C-can I help you?”

The two strangers share a glance.

“It’s her?”

“It’s her.”

Oh.

…

OH SHIT.

You launch backwards, hand flying to your holster, but before you have time to even think, a blaster is trained on your head.

“Drop the blade,” the woman barks. “And carefully throw that blaster aside.”

“Shitshitshit,” you hiss through your teeth while slowly, cautiously obliging the woman’s demands.

Bounty hunters. Damn it, damn it, damn it!

No, no! You can’t- you won’t go back! Not for him!

“L-look, th-this has to be a misunderstanding-”

“Listen carefully,” the woman interrupts, speaking your full name aloud. “You’re the companion to the Mandalorian?”

Mandalorian… they’re… they’re not here for you?

You blink, mouth gaped open.

Oh, bloody hells!

What has Din gotten himself into?

“I am she,” you keep your hands pressed against the thighs of your legs. “But, specifically, which Mandalorian do you refer to? I know sev-”

“Stop being cute.” She marches over, grasping your upper arm with a steel grip.

“Hey!” you yelp against the fingers digging into your flesh.

“Against the wall.”

She pushes you towards it, sending you stumbling over your own feet. You press your back as tightly as you can against the wall, shifting your eyes in all directions for any possible escape…

Oh, kriff kriff what do you do what do you do-

“Listen carefully.” The woman takes a step back, crossing her arms carefully. As you stare into the eyes of what very well could be the reason for your immediate demise, you force your breathing to even itself out.

Stay calm.

Whatever it is, you can talk your way out of it.

They want Mando, not you.

“You assisted the Mandalorian in taking something that I must have back.”

Oh karabast.

They do want you.

“Whu-? Marek?” you blurt, mouth gaping open a bit. “Marek’s datachip?”

“It’s not Marek’s,” the woman’s voice turns harsh. “Marek is but an employee of a crime syndicate…”

“…On Nar Shaddaa.”

Your blood freezes.

…

Oh.

Oh no.

This….. this is bad.

If- if they recognize you…

You have to talk your way out.

“Listen,” your voice turns firm, commanding. “I barely know the Mandalorian. I met him on Taek. I know nothing about the chip or who he stole it for.”

“None of that matters.” The woman takes a step back. You try and hide your intense relief at the space she’s given you. You can’t appear weak, not right now.

“We only wish to have it returned.”

Somehow you seriously doubt that…

“We can cut a deal.” The statement tumbles out of your mouth before you even realize what it is you’re saying.

“The chip- it’s in his ship, the Razor Crest.”

Bloody hell if you know where it is! He wouldn’t tell you blasted anything! But if you can stall these two long enough… it will give Din and Cara time to figure out what’s going on and save your ass.

“Well-” the woman raises her eyebrow- “I suppose we know where we are going then.” She motions you towards the bike. “Drive, but keep in mind-” she waves her blaster- “this will be at you back.”

“Yeah, no problem,” you snort, “just all part of the business, right?”

Right…

-------

You slow the speeder bike to a halt on the side of the Razor Crest facing away from Kuill’s homestead. Though you originally whined to Din about the distance, you are now intensely grateful the Mandalorian kept the ship anchored way far off from the homestead.

Keenly aware there’s a blaster pointed at your back, you step up to the ramp of the ship with a gulp.

Locked door, of course.

Thank the Maker you’ve already hacked the system once before. This shouldn’t take long… unless you happen to make a few little- oops!- mistakes that cost time. As you walk up the ramp, inwardly, you begin cycling through the racing, rolling thoughts clambering around in your head.

“Stars! Where are you Din? They should have come back by now, found the speeder bikes gone… I drove slower on purpose. Do they know something’s wrong? Do they think I’m pranking them? Curse my mischievous nature! I bet they think I’m pranking them!”

“What are you doing?” the man harshly demands.

“Uh, I- uh- don’t have a… key on me.” You throw your hands up. “But wait! I can hack the system- no problem!” You nervously laugh.

They both share a glance.

“Fine. Hurry.”

You turn back around, smirking to yourself.

Time for a bit of stalling.

“I just have to pull on this-” Sparks.

“Re-wire this-” More sparks.

“Punch in this-” Fire.

“Get back!” The woman snarls, clamping the panel protecting the wiring closed to stop the flames from growing.

“Get. This. Door. Open.”

“Y-yes, sure, no problem.” You fling the panel back open and start back to work.

Oh stars…

You are able to stall no more than five minutes without raising suspicion. As you step back inside the Razor Crest, you feel absolutely sick to your stomach. Having these Nar Shaddaa syndicate members enter this ship, this home… it’s violating. This ship was a place of refuge, safety after your traumatic time on Taek. And here you are- with yet another new tangled mess.

“In the cockpit,” you bark, stepping towards it. You are yanked backwards.

“He goes first. Then you. Then me.”

Biting your lip, you slowly nod your head.

You lead them up and over to the pilot’s seat, sitting down and punching on all the buttons you can find. “It should be… ahh… here it is! Oh wait, no….”

“What?” the woman snarls, clearly growing very agitated with your obvious game-playing.

“The chip! It’s gone!” You fake a gasp. “Let me check down in the hold!”

Not waiting for any commands, you practically fall down the ladder into the hold, racing towards the far wall and punching at the buttons of Din’s holo display, feigning dismay.

“Gone! It’s- he must have it on him! Oh, karking hells!”

“Hmm.” Her face hardens. “How inconvenient.”

“Sure is!” You shrug, knocking the brim of your hat back. “Look- new plan. The Mandalorian- I’m sure you heard about how he surrendered for me… at Marek’s base.” You throw your hands out to the side.

Think, think, think.

“…So, uh, you hold me hostage. He’ll come.” You nod your head. “H-he’ll give the chip over. Especially if I talk to him.”

This- this is bad.

Stars! This couldn’t get much worse!

The woman angles her head, eyes boring straight into your own. “Hmm, he probably won’t surrender for you…”

“…But maybe he will for them.”

You blink.

Them.

You spin on your heel.

Oh.

Oh no.

“Hi,” Winta waves, placing the baby down on the floor.

“Are they bad guys?” Birdie grins, pointing at the woman’s blaster.

Things just got worse.

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

masterlist / previous chapter / next chapter

taglist: @sana-katarn @barrissoffee77 @royalhandmaidens @dracos-jedi-marvel @sinnamon-bunn @theclonewarsbrokeme @obirain @beskar-boba @disneyjedi19 @kyjoraven @orla-dahl @babe-dont @jdjdjdididisisiei

a/n: YEAH SO THE STORY REALLY RAMPS UP FROM HERE

First things first, THANK YOU TO EVERY PERSON THAT LEFT A REVIEW ON THE LAST CHAPTER! Tumblr AND Ao3! Guys, I nearly CRIED at how sweet and kind they were! It REALLY pushed me, even through the challenging past few weeks, to write for YOU GUYS.

Guys, this is only half of what I was planning for chapter 6! As usual, the chapter grew OUT OF HAND! So the other half will be included with chapter 7, which, you'll be thankful to know, is already mapped out and ready to be typed up! After all, I did end here on a cliffhanger of sorts, so it'd be cruel to make you wait too terribly long! 😉 Let's just say chapter 7 is going to be a lot of FUN with DRAMA. (I might have laughed/cried my butt off when mapping it out...) And a lot of ANGST. 👀 I see you, my angst-loving fans. I'm here to D.E.L.I.V.E.R.

GUESSING GAME: A new character will appear in chapter 7! This character has been alluded to already in the story! Let's just say, it's NOT what you're expecting! Any guesses?

Last note, about two weeks ago, I did a clean up/edit of chapter one. As it was my first chapter, I didn't yet have a grasp on the tone/voice of the story. I cleaned it up to make it fit better with the following chapters.

ANYWAY, see you soon! Please leave feedback here or on Ao3 (wille_zarr). (Shoutout to @sana-katarn for inventing the term "hutt fudge" at my request. She's out here being the real MVP.)

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trashmenofmarvel · 4 years

Text

Branded - Chapter 24

Pairing: Demon!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: Bucky receives your Christmas present.

(This is a fan AU of Falling’s Just Another Way to Fly by araniaart. Please check out this incredible series for all of your demon Bucky needs.)

Chapter Warnings: So much fluff

AO3

You took your mission to get a present for Bucky just as seriously as your mission to seduce him. No alcohol was involved this time, just a little elbow grease and fighting through the cobwebs of the attic.

With your sister distracting Bucky downstairs after dinner (“Ohh, does this mean I can give him the shovel talk?!”), you had the time needed to find what you were looking for. A pile of cardboard boxes with your name written on them, along with the year you’d moved away from home.

You sat on the old wooden floor, opened a box, and began to rummage. Plushies and toys you hadn’t wanted to part with were in the first box. The next, various knickknacks you’d collected over the years. A crystal vial filled with water and gold flakes. A keychain full of dead Tamagotchis. A collection of bookmarks made out of wood and hand-painted with magical creatures.

Each new treasure brought a wave of nostalgia, bittersweet for a time when things had seemed simpler. No soul-sucking job. No demons stalking you, waiting for you to be alone and vulnerable to strike.

But there had been no Bucky, either. So while the memories held an alluring shine to it, you didn’t have a problem leaving the past where it was.

You came upon the object you’d been seeking tucked away in the third box. You opened it carefully, the weight surprisingly heavy in your hands. It was a picture frame, segmented into three parts that could close inward, almost like a book. An heirloom your grandmother had found at a flea market when her family had lived in New York.

It was clearly old, heavy with the weight of history, but the metalwork was delicate and beautiful. The last remains of a bygone era, a little bit tarnished and dusty but no less beautiful for it.

It reminded you of a certain other person from a bygone era.

Carefully putting away your childhood things and replacing the boxes, you went back downstairs and entered your mother’s study. The laptop on her desk was open to a webpage of a historical site regaling the Second World War. The glossy pictures you printed were still sitting in the printer’s output tray.

Taking the photos, you carefully cut them to fit the three windows of the picture frame. The pictures in them now were artistic drawings of anthropomorphic rabbits wearing whimsical, old-fashioned clothing. You carefully set them aside, planning to find new frames for your grandmother’s drawings; somewhere they could be displayed and not hidden away in the attic.

Technically, the frame was a family heirloom and probably valuable, but giving it to Bucky felt… right. He’d been a part of your life for much longer than two months, even if you hadn’t known it. The bond between you was strange, indescribable, and ran too deep to break. If that wasn’t family, you didn’t know what was.

Your mother would understand and forgive you, whenever you told her the truth. And you would tell her, someday. It was kind of unavoidable when you were dating an immortal being. You would go grey, and Bucky would always look the same…

The scissors froze halfway through a cut. What were you going to do when you grew old and withered? What happened to Bucky when you died? You’d thought about your own mortality plenty of times, but you hadn’t thought about the implications after meeting Bucky.

Would the bond break and Bucky would go on without you? Or would it hurt him. Kill him. Had the book said anything about the human slaves aging? All it had said in regards to death was they could die to protect the demon, giving the demon an extra life.

What if you couldn’t provide the energy he needed because you were too frail and gnarled with age?

What if Bucky didn’t want you when you got old?

What if—

Your jaw clenched and the scissors glided through the paper like a blade. Startled, you looked down at the photo, but thankfully you’d more or less cut straight. You stared at the photo, the last you’d chosen of the three.

A sepia photo of a handsome young man in a suit, the white dress shirt unbuttoned and showing the undershirt beneath, a familiar and easy grin on his face. Next to him, a scrawny blond boy who was much shorter, smiling reluctantly with encouragement from the brunet next to him. It was hard to believe the serious-looking boy would one day be Captain America and the young man next to him would become HYDRA’s most powerful soldier.

You carefully put the photo in one of the side frames. In the frame opposite, you placed a black and white family photo, one of Bucky, his sister, and both their parents. They were wearing their best clothes, the children on their best behavior, except the boy had an elbow pressed against his sister’s side as they both suppressed giggles.

The third photo, the one you placed in the center piece, was a simple one. A photo of Bucky in another suit, this one more formal, and his sister at his side wearing a pair of women’s trousers and a frilly blouse. They were both older than in the first photo, and according to the date, it was the summer before Bucky had been shipped out to Europe.

Bucky looked… happy. Genuinely, truly happy. You hadn’t included any photos from the war or him in uniform, though there were plenty to find. You didn’t think he’d want to be reminded of that time, and in all those pictures he’d seemed subdued, serious. It wasn’t an expression you were fond of, and the happiness he showed around his family and Steve Rogers was absent in them.

After all the pictures were secured, you leaned back and stared at them. You frowned and shifted restlessly.

What if he didn’t like it? What if it brought back painful memories he’d rather forget? You were confident that wouldn’t be the case, not after the fond way he’d talked about his family, but… reminiscing was one thing. Seeing the past staring up at you was another.

Sighing heavily, you stood and picked up the frame, closing it so only the polished metalwork was on display. It was better to get it over with, rather than stand here, frozen with the weight of doubt.

After wrapping the frame in pretty blue foil paper, you went into your old room and placed it on the bed. You took a deep breath—why were you so nervous?—and went downstairs to free Bucky from your sister’s clutches.

To your eternal shock, he didn’t look like a hostage when you found them in the kitchen. If anything, they seemed thick as thieves. Your eyes narrowed, suspicious of what tales your sister has clearly been telling.

And that’s when you froze.

Bucky was holding your infant nephew in his arms, looking for all the world like he’d done it a million times before. He didn’t look up at your arrival, his gaze entirely focused on the baby he was slowly rocking back and forth. Your nephew stared up at him with wide eyes, little chubby arms reaching up to try and grab a stray lock of hair.

You’d never experienced the phenomenon of “baby fever” before. You maybe wanted to adopt kids, sure, but have them yourself? It’d never been a priority or a desire… until that moment. The air had gone out of you like a sucker punch to the gut, replaced by yearning so strong it was a struggle to remain silent and not break the moment.

Somebody noticed your presence, though. Your sister was grinning at you like a shark from where she was leaning against the kitchen counter.

“There you are,” she practically cooed. “I was just telling Jacob about the time we snuck out of the house as kids and went to go perform ‘witchcraft’ in the middle of the woods at night.”

You made some kind of noncommittal noise, you were sure, because Bucky lifted his head and looked directly at you. Your nephew had managed to grab a lock of hair and was currently sticking it into his mouth.

Bucky didn’t notice, his entire focus on your face, a light frown forming. You still hadn’t moved or spoken.

“Did you find what you needed?” your sister asked, leaning forward to save Bucky’s hair from being eaten, lifting her son back into her arms.

“Uh. Yeah. I did.” You swallowed thickly, too much saliva in your mouth.

“Oh? What were you looking for?” Bucky approached, and when he was close enough placed a hand on your back and rubbed. The simple touch sent a white-hot flash through your system and you nearly choked.

“Nothing. I mean, something. Uh, you’ll see.”

Your sister gave you a pitying look over Bucky’s shoulder, and you communicated a silent what the fuck was that, you asshole, you know exactly what you did.

She returned the silent communique with a smug smirk, and then she drew you into a one-armed hug.

“I’m heading out, sis. Got an early drive back home in the morning. I’m gonna miss you.”

Your frustration evaporated in an instant and you returned the hug tightly.

“Drive safe,” you told her.

“You too. And call me more, or at least text!”

“I will, I promise.”

And you meant it too. You’d fallen out of touch with your family, and after appreciating everything Bucky had lost, you were going to make an effort to include him as well.

After you separated, your sister hugged Bucky with just as much enthusiasm.

“Take care of her, Jacob Miller.”

“I will.” Bucky tucked you against his side after your sister released him. Your face was on fire.

“I know you will,” she said with a conspiratorial smirk. “Because I watch a lot of crime dramas, and I know how to hide a body.”

“Oh, my God,” you groaned into a hand.

After your sister and brother-in-law said their last goodbyes and your familial humiliation was concluded, you couldn’t rush up the stairs fast enough, practically dragging Bucky behind you.

You shut the bedroom door and leaned back against it, releasing a sigh of relief, and then immediately sucked another lungful of air when Bucky crowded you against the door. His smile was amused but carried a hint of concern.

“Everything all right?”

“Yeah.” You nodded, smiling shakily as your stomach did flip-flops. It was hard to focus with Bucky so close, peering at you intently with those bright blue eyes.

“You sure?” He cupped the side of your face with a gloved hand, and you leaned into it immediately. “Because you got this weird look on your face. I didn’t go too far, did I? Your sister asked if I wanted to hold her son, and I didn’t think—“

“No, no.” You shook your head fervently, placing your hand over Bucky’s so you could squeeze it. “I’m happy you’re getting along so well with my family. Really. It’s… more than I could have asked for.”

His expression softened, the tension lines of his face smoothed out, and he leaned down and gently pressed his lips to yours. The kiss deepened when you tangled your fingers in his long hair, pulling him closer, and your knees would have buckled right then if he hadn’t been pressing you against the door.

What had started out as a chaste kiss was quickly going to end in somebody naked, so you pulled back and grinned at his noise of frustration.

“Just—hold on a sec,” you said. “I have something for you first.”

You ducked around him and approached the bed to where his gift laid waiting. Bucky was right behind you, not letting you go far as he wrapped his arms around your waist.

“What’s this?” he asked, propping his chin on top of your head.

“This… is your Christmas present.”

Another small noise of protest when you turned around and tapped it against his chest.

“You really didn’t have to,” he said with a hint of exasperation.

“Uh, you took me flying. A little gift is the least I could do.”

Bucky looked from your face to the present, as if he still couldn’t quite believe it. When was the last time someone had gotten the guy a gift? No, you didn’t want to think about that sad question or you might start crying.

He took the present from your hand, his expression still one of vague disbelief. You bit your lip to keep from smiling and ended up failing anyway. It wasn’t every day that Bucky looked so… cute. There was no other word for the little dip in his brows and the slight parting of his lips.

It was nothing to the expression he wore once he pulled open your less-than-perfect wrapping job, opened the frame, and saw what was inside.

As the seconds tick on and his face didn’t changed, where he didn’t seem to breathe, your excitement slowly drained away.

And then when his eyes grew glassy and red-rimmed, you started to panic.

“Is… is this too much?” you quickly asked. “Should I not have—Did I make a mistake?”

His guise dropped in an instant. It wasn’t gradual like it usually was; it was gone so fast you only had to blink.

Bucky wrapped his arms around you and pulled you against his chest, face buried in your hair as if to hide it. A fine tremor moved through his muscles. He was shaking.

“No. It’s—it’s perfect. I… Thank you.”

You raised your arms slowly and wrapped them around him just as carefully, holding him as close as you could. Being held in Bucky’s embrace never got old, or tiring; it was a place you could remain forever. By the desperate way he held you tight, you hoped he felt the same.

“Where… where did you even find them?” He pulled back and stared down at the picture frame, wonder on his face. No tears had fallen, but he still looked painfully fragile.

“Online.” You rested your head against his shoulder as your eyes fell to the pictures. “Museum websites. Lots of information on Captain America, of course, but quite a few on his childhood best friend.”

“Huh.”

“You’ve never googled yourself?”

“Once. Didn’t care to do it again.”

You winced. Of course, you had to go and bring up the fact most of the information on Bucky wasn’t about him, but about the Winter Soldier.

“Right. Sorry. Stupid question.”

Bucky sighed and carefully set the frame down on the nearby dresser. Without warning, he grabbed you by the back of your thighs and lifted, picking you up before setting you on the bed, swallowing down your squeal as he kissed you, open-mouthed.

You immediately went pliant, wrapping your arms and legs around him to try and get closer.

“That’s better,” he said, voice a raspy growl when he broke the kiss. His eyes were dark, pupils blown as he eyed you like a tasty meal. “Can’t beat yourself up if your mouth is too busy doing other things.”

“I can multitask,” you breathed out. Bucky grinned, a hint of sharp teeth.

“We’ll see.”

Next Chapter

#demon!bucky x reader #demon!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #branded #my writing #my fanfiction

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