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xxxsweetdreamzxxx · 3 years

Text

warnings/tags: dom!Jaehyun sub!reader, fanfic, smut; cursing, hook up, fingering, cunninilingus, unprotected sex, cream pie

summary: a chance meeting while shopping for bathing suits turns your summer vacation a little hotter

word count: 4.4k (help)

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this was interesting to write as the beginning and ending are based off of separate dreams this time, so hopefully I was able to link them in a way that made sense. please enjoy!!

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"How does this look?" You asked your friend Jamie, holding a skimpy neon bikini set to your body.

It was the first full day of your annual summer beach trip with your bestie, and you'd arrived in the seaside town you always traveled to late last night. After eating a mediocre breakfast provided by your hotel, the two of you had headed to a nearby mall to buy new swimsuits. She'd had luck finding one relatively quickly. But the reason you were still there, on the second story of a large department store several hours later, was because you had yet to.

She made a face. "No offence, but it's not really your style..."

Sighing, you put it back on the rack. "I know."

Rounding the stand that contained the bikini you'd just put back, you briefly glanced over at the neighboring section, which had swim trunks. Movement had caught your eye, caused by three guys walking through. You barely even paid attention to them at first glance, but the one in the back caught your eye, and you did a double take.

At this second glance, you saw they were all young, probably close to your age, and very attractive. 'Are they models?' You wondered. But again, it was the one behind the first two that really made you look on in awe. He had muted fluffy purple hair that covered his forehead, and dark eyes that shone like diamonds even from this distance. His soft features and perfect skin made you wonder if he was an angel. His thin white shirt hugged what was probably toned muscle underneath. When the taller of his two friends said something funny, he smiled and oh my God, he had the cutest dimples.

At that moment, he shifted his eyes up and saw you standing there, staring. Like a deer caught in headlights you froze, embarrassed as fuck you'd been caught. But his smile only widened, and he gave you a slight nod in greeting.

Ripping your gaze away, you acted like nothing had happened and tried to return to shopping.

"Oh wow y/n, you saw those guys right?" Jamie exclaimed, following you. "Now that's what I'd call eye can-"

You interrupted her, face flushed, by holding up a pale blue gingham bikini. "What about this?"

Before she could answer, her eyes focused on something behind you, mouth falling open slightly. A deep voice then responded to your question. "I think it looks cute."

You whipped around, only to come face to face with the man you couldn't keep from staring at. Your eyes widened and you gulped, startled. Up close, he was simply breathtaking. Literally; you felt your breathing become strained as your heart pounded in your chest.

"Th- Thank you, um..?" You stuttered before taking a deep breath.

"Jaehyun." He answered.

"Ah, Jaehyun." Damn, even his name was cute. You gave him a shaky smile. "So I should get it?"

"Definitely." He encouraged. He then looked to Jamie, who'd been speechlessly watching the exchange. "What do you think?"

Turning around, you waited to see her response. After looking between the two of you for a couple of seconds, she grinned and gave a thumbs up. You weren't sure if she was approving of the bathing suit or...

"Hey, what are you guys doing the rest of today?" Jaehyun asked.

"Oh, not much." You replied quickly, not planning to elaborate.

"We'll just be at the beach!" Jamie said louder and at the same time, speaking over you. "Wanna come with?"

You gave her a look, trying to shut her up. She looked back at you as if to say 'what?'

He smiled. "Sure. Let me ask the boys if it's okay with them."

He beckoned the two of them over, who didn't hesitate to comply. Jamie introduced you and her to the group, as you were still majorly distracted by the million thoughts running through your head. The tallest of the three then introduced himself as Johnny, a friendly guy with a round face and sculpted arms that were on full display thanks to the tank he wore. The other was Mark, who shyly said hi to you and Jamie. He had a boyish and youthful aura about him that made you immediately assume he was the youngest. They both readily agreed to head to the beach.

Still not fully registering what had just happened, you walked to the check out in a near trance and bought your swimsuits. Then you exited the mall, and made your way to the parking lot. Jaehyun went to get his car while the rest of you waited at Jamie's. When he pulled up, the guys got in. After quickly entering her car with her, Jamie pulled out of the parking lot and followed them as they lead the way to the beach.

"Y/n, you okay?" She asked, taking her eyes off the road for a split second to glance at your face. Your prolonged silence had prompted her to speak.

You removed yourself from your racing thoughts. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just surprised."

She grinned. "Well, today's not gonna be boring, that's for sure. It'll be a lot more eventful than if we'd hung out at the beach by ourselves."

You nodded in agreement. You knew there wasn't much harm in doing this - there would be plenty of people on the beach around you - they couldn't try anything. And besides, you didn't even get those vibes from them. That wasn't what made you uneasy. It was the thought of spending a day at the beach with such attractive guys that made the tips of your ears turn pink and your heart rate increase. You just prayed you wouldn't say or do something utterly embarrassing.

Jamie drove into the public beach parking behind their car, parking a few spaces away from them. Exiting the car, you and her first made your way to the bathrooms to change. This beach was well maintained, a stone walkway lead to them and then continued on and up to a wide bridge that arched over the barrier dunes and then down onto the sand. Palm trees provided shade, which was made good use of as it seemed wherever a tree cast a shadow there was a cool bench to sit.

Locking yourself into a stall in the women's bathroom, you undressed and then pulled on your brand new swimsuit. Thankfully, despite not being able to try it on in the store, it fit extremely well. The gingham pattern, pale blue color, and small ruffles on the waistband and straps made you conclude this was the cutest bikini you'd ever seen. Exiting the stall, you briefly peered into the mirror above the sinks to pull your hair into two low pigtails.

Turning back around, you found Jamie standing there in her new suit, smiling at you.

"Ready y/n?" She asked.

You took a breath before replying. "Yep."

Arm in arm, you walked out to meet the boys, who'd already changed and were standing there waiting, beach bags in hand. Johnny got excited as he spotted you both and practically ran towards beach, Mark trying to keep up with him. Jaehyun looked unbothered as he stayed behind to walk at a normal pace with you. By the time you'd crossed over the sand dunes and strolled onto the beach, Mark and Johnny had already found a good place a little ways away to set up. They'd brought two large towels, big enough for multiple people to sit on, and had spread them out over the sand.

Jaehyun sat down on one, then patted the ground next to him, motioning for you to sit next to him. After a few seconds of contemplation you complied, folding your legs to the side as you still kept a couple feet of distance from him. Jamie sat down with Johnny and Mark on the other towel.

For the next hour or so, the five of you talked about various topics in an effort to learn more about each other. Gradually, you loosened up as you got used to their company. Johnny and Mark were college friends of Jaehyun's, who'd came into town a few days before you to visit him where he now lived on the coast. Funnily enough, the two boys were staying in the same hotel as you and Jamie while they did so - it was the closest to Jaehyun's apartment.

Noon came and went, and the air continued to heat up around you until it was unbearable. You looked out at the ocean water longingly, but didn't want to leave by yourself, and the others seemed to be having such a great time...

Glancing over at you, Jaehyun made a suggestion. "Who's up for the water?"

Despite your assumptions, the agreement was unanimous. As one, you all rose and ran towards the rolling sea, chasing each other. Diving into the waves, you ran out until the water was up to your waist. Johnny swam out farther than any of you, while Jamie and Mark stayed in slightly shallower water.

You heard the sound of someone sloshing around in the water directly behind you. Spinning around, you were met with his chest - his white shirt was now wet and you could see some of the muscles through it - as your eyes widened and you looked up into Jae's eyes. He smiled down at your face, less than a foot away, dimples on full display.

"Hi." He said in a way that made your heart melt. Then: "Feel better?"

"Y- yeah, it was really hot before." Your words betrayed your body - being in the water wasn't cooling you off at all anymore.

You stood there for a few awkward moments in silence, not knowing what to say.

"Um-" You began.

"Woah y/n look out!" He cut you off, sudden panic on his face as he closed the small distance between the two of you.

Suddenly, a large wave crashed into your back. It pushed you straight into the only thing that would keep you standing - his body. Instinctively, you gripped onto his shirt tightly so you didn't fall, tugging it towards you. He didn't hesitate to wrap his strong arms around your waist to steady you. Only after the wave had passed did you realize what you'd done, quickly releasing the fabric from your hands. But he didn't let go.

"Are you okay?" He asked, worry in his tone.

You nodded, heart pounding loudly in your ears. However, you were shaking slightly.

He began leading you back towards the shore, not convinced. Stumbling onto the hot sand, he guided you back to the towels, sitting you down once you got there. Getting a smaller towel, he wrapped it around you so you could dry off, then he sat down next to you.

You looked at him, embarrassed. "You can go back if you want, I'll be fine here."

"No, I'm good." He leaned back a bit. "I'm not much of a swimmer anyways."

He then lifted his arm and ran his fingers through his damp hair, brushing it back off his forehead. You gulped, incredibly bothered by the motion.

He looked at you with a slight smirk. "Thirsty?"

"Yeah." You replied.

Smirk widening, he handed you an unopened water bottle. You drank, trying desperately to calm down.

Jamie ran up to you, Mark following close behind. "Y/n are you okay?" She asked, confused and concerned. "What happened?"

You explained without including the details that made you blush when you thought of them. She sat on the towel next to you, deciding not to go back out. Mark followed suit and shortly after Johnny joined you again when he realized everyone was out of the water.

After a bit, you began to get hungry and got up to try and find some food. Luckily, there was a food truck nearby with some cheap lunch. Returning to the towels, you ate in relative silence as the sun moved slowly west overhead. The rest of the afternoon was spent walking, playing with a frisbee, and sunbathing. You noticed Jaehyun seemed to be keeping you within a few feet of him the entire time, never leaving you alone or with the others. Even when you went back out with Jamie into the shallow water, he followed - even though he tried to appear like he wasn't.

.•°•. ♡ .•°•. ♡ .•°•. ♡ .•°•.

Once the sun went down, everything was packed up and taken back to the cars. You threw back on your shorts from earlier before heading to a nearby bar, open to the sea and cool night air. It was already crowded with many tourists, and once you entered you quickly lost sight of the others, later catching a glimpse of Jamie talking to Johnny off to the side with a drink in hand.

Seeing the bar, you made your way over to it by yourself and sat on one of the barstools. You beckoned the bartender over to order your drink.

"What can I get for you?" She asked, polishing a glass.

"A margarita please." you answered.

She then looked at the seat next to you. "And you sir?"

"A margarita for me too, thanks." A familiar voice answered.

You turned around in your seat to face Jaehyun, blinking at him.

He smiled and nodded in greeting, those adorable dimples reappearing on the corners of his mouth. Feeling your face heat up, you quickly turned to look at the bartender as she made your identical drinks.

You cleared your throat a little. "So... you like margaritas too?"

He chuckled softly at your attempt to break the awkwardness. "Truthfully, I've never tried one. Thought tonight was good first time."

You could feel his eyes on you, boring into your soul in an attempt to get your attention. When you couldn't take it any longer and tilted your head to look at him, his eyes immediately met yours. A slight smirk spread across his lips.

When your drinks were served, he was the first to take a sip, eyes not leaving you for a millisecond. You drank and shifted in your seat, fully aware of how he was checking you out as his eyes began to roam. You wondered if maybe you should've put on a shirt over your bikini top to cover yourself better. But that thought was quickly dismissed as a new one took its place. You liked it - the way his attention was focused on no one but you. There were plenty of other hot girls there that night, but he paid them no mind.

The hours drifted by as those around you melted away and it felt like you and Jae were the only two in the entire world. The music and voices of patrons were only a buzz in the distant background as you focused on his soft words. You found you enjoyed each others company - he made you comfortable with the idea of spending as much time in it as possible.

When the clock struck ten, you could feel the beginnings of fatigue creeping into your mind. An incoming text made his phone buzz. He checked it, relaying the message to you after briefly lifting up his eyebrows in surprise.

"Your friend's heading back to the hotel with Johnny and Mark, she's driving them there."

"Oh!" You replied in surprise, glancing around the bar but finding them already gone. You knew what was probably going to happen to Jamie, but you didn't voice it.

He looked at you for about a minute before speaking again, slowly. "Do you.. wanna come to my place?"

You met his eyes again, heart and mind racing at his invitation. The implications of his question didn't slip by you, they were fully realized. Still, it didn't take you long to make up your mind - in fact, you'd already made it before he'd asked.

"Yes." You replied.

He smiled wide and grabbed your hand, intertwining his fingers with yours. You quickly slid off your barstool and exited the bar, making for the car. You giggled as he pulled you along. The moon shone down on you from high overhead, lighting the way. Once reaching the car, he opened the passenger door for you and you hopped inside as he then closed it and rounded the car to his seat. Getting in, he started the car and drove out onto the road towards his apartment.

Your mind raced as you made the silent drive to his apartment, listening to the low sounds of the radio coming through the speakers. It only took a few minutes before he was parking, getting out, and coming around to help you out of the car. Grasping your hand tightly again, he lead you into the building. The lobby of his apartment had only dim lights on at this time to illuminate the room. No one was around. Jaehyun took a left after guiding you through the main doors.

"This way." He practically whispered, taking you into the elevator.

He hit the three and the doors closed, leaving you alone in the small space with him for a few moments. He didn't waste any time in turning you around to face him, closing the gap between you. Locking his lips with yours in a heated first kiss, he backed you up into the elevator wall, driving you up it slightly with his strong arms. You instinctively wrapped your limbs around his body to steady yourself and kissed him back. You could taste both him and the drink he'd had at the bar - the mixture was heavenly.

A ding signified your arrival at his floor, forcing you to part. Thankfully for the both of you, his door wasn't too far away. Pulling you down the hall quickly, Jae stopped at his door and took out his keys, fumbling with them for a few seconds as he tried to rush. When the door was unlocked, he pushed it open, letting you both walk through before harshly closing it again.

For the few seconds it took for him to throw the keys on a small table next to the door you glanced around the dark apartment. Through a cracked door to your left you could make out a bathroom. A small kitchen stretched across most of the right wall from the door, a long bar separating it from the rest of the room. In this main room was both his living area and bedroom. His bed was pushed up against the farthest wall, which was taken up entirely by two giant windows. The moonlight shone through them, illuminating a balcony on the other side that looked out into the night and the street below, where palm trees waved back and forth in a light breeze.

The sudden grip of his large hand on your waist from behind made you jump. He spun you around, and gave you that soul piercing stare that made all your self-control fade away. You leaned in this time, seeing a smirk spread across his face right before you closed your eyes. As soon as your lips brushed against his again, he picked up were you'd left off, kissing you relentlessly and leaving you breathless. Slowly, he backed you up further into the apartment until the backs of your legs bumped up against the edge of the bed as you struggled to bring air to your lungs.

He lifted you just enough to clear the mattress and sit you down on top of it. Climbing onto it himself, he gently laid you down onto the sheets underneath him. He kept himself up with his knees, one on each side of you as he started to move his plush lips down to your neck. He proceeded to mark you, painting several dark spots onto your skin that would surely be there the next day.

"Ah, Jae." You moaned out for the first time, when the tenseness that had been building between your legs became too much to stay silent.

He paused. "What is it princess?"

"I need..." You began, heating up at the petname.

"Yes?" He asked patiently, waiting for your commanding words. He smiled down at you, raising a hand to your cheek to stroke it soothingly.

"You." You finished, meeting his gaze. "I need you."

He smiled wider. "Sure thing."

Removing his hand from your face, he moved it down to the waistband of your shorts. Unbuttoning them with both hands, he slipped them off and down your ankles with ease. Placing his strong hand on your upper thigh, he spread it away from the other and began moving his fingers closer to your heat. Shivering at his touch, you sunk deeper into the bedsheets. He let his fingertips get to the edge of your bikini bottoms, but stopped there, teasing you.

"Hey-" You breathed, scolding him when you realized what he was doing.

He looked down at you, hair messily splayed around your head as your chest rose and fell beneath him. Your skin was beginning to glisten with perspiration, your eyelashes fluttering slightly every time you blinked your half-closed eyes. "Hm?"

You took a moment to respond. "Touch me Jae."

He smiled a dark smile as he brushed your bikini bottoms to the side. The first touch of his fingertips against your slick clit had you lifting your hips up off the bed, curses falling from your lips. He forced them back down, pinning you to the bed with his body. He quickly resumed his actions, running his fingers back and forth over your folds as you moaned at the pleasure. He then suddenly inserted a finger into your dripping core.

"Ah-" You gasped in surprise as he continued, using his thumb to trace circles across your clit. It was all too much for you to handle. He watched as you gradually lost control beneath him, writhing about in pleasure. The dangerous combination of things he was doing to you quickly brought your first high like a rising wave that crashed into the beach before it.

You didn't have time to warn him before your walls clamped down on his finger and your juices spilled out onto his hand, sheets, and down your legs. He let you ride out your orgasm and calm all the way down before removing his finger and sitting up, licking every last bit of you from his fingers. You peered down the bed at him, watching in fascination as he lapped it up like a man starved.

"Shit, you taste good." He complimented, making your face feel flushed.

When his hand was clean, he bent down and stuck his head between your legs. A second later, you felt the flick of his tongue on your inner thigh. He left a trail of wet kisses up it, making his way back up to your heat. Without warning, you felt his lips brush against your folds as he proceeded to use his tongue to clean you up as best he could. His hot breath against your pussy made you squirm and draw your legs up closer to your chest. Once satisfied he sat up again, licking the last of you from his lips.

He then repositioned himself above you. Removing his swim trunks, his hard member sprung free and stood erect, precum trickling from its pink tip. Slipping a couple of fingers into the waistband of your bikini bottoms, he pulled then down your legs, leaving them with your shorts at your ankles. Lining up with your entrance, he held himself up with his strong arms, caging you in. You looked up at him, his faded purple hair messy across his face. He gave you a reassuring smile - dimples and all - before pushing into you with ease and rolling his hips down onto yours. Matching the pace he set, you pulled his face back down to yours to kiss him again, softer this time. He complied, kissing you deeper and slower as he pushed further into you with each thrust.

When he bottomed out, he speed up the movement of his hips, gripping yours to bring them closer to his. The lewd sounds of sex filled the apartment, combined with both of your increasingly loud moans.

"Jae." You moaned out, breaking your kisses. You felt the tenseness building in your abdomen again.

He groaned as you felt him twitch inside you. "Fuck, you sound so hot saying my name like that."

He then hit your g-spot with the tip of his cock, pushing you over the edge. You came undone all at once, flexing your walls around him, gasping for air. Seconds later, hot strings of his cum shot through you, spilling out onto the bed along with your own. Riding out your orgasms simultaneously, your heavy breathing gradually quieted until he pulled out and sat up on the bed beside you. Watching him slide off the edge and stand up, your eyes followed him as he made his way to the bathroom entrance, ducking in for a second and returning with a towel.

Climbing back onto the bed, he leaned over you and gently cleaned you up with the towel, being extra careful around your sore clit. When most of it was wiped up, he discarded the towel onto the floor and laid down next to you. You rolled onto your side to look at him in the moonlight.

His skin had a visible sheen to it and his hair was a fucking mess - it stuck partially to his damp skin. But that only made his perfectly sculpted features more beautiful. You felt him wrap his arm around your naked waist, holding you to his body. Brushing a loose strand of hair away from your face, he spoke for the first time in minutes.

"Let's do this again tomorrow."

In your fucked out state, you couldn't respond with much else than an excited nod as you snuggled up to him. He gently kissed your swollen lips, happy.

Brushing your nose with his, he whispered: "Night y/n."

You replied by kissing him back, closing your eyes, and drifting off to sleep in his arms.

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sameheart-sameblood · 3 years

Text

Live While We’re Alive

(gif by @rex-is-best)

pairing: commander wolffe x f!reader

summary: you thought being a newly recruited civilian doctor to the GAR was hard enough until you developed a hopeless crush on Commander Wolffe

words: 2.8 k

warnings: mature, some suggestive talk, mutual pining, medical exams, co-workers to lovers, a doctor having inappropriate thoughts about their patient

a/n: I started writing this awhile ago and then lost all creative motivation but I've been in a Wolffe mood the past few days and sad we didn't get to see him in The Bad Batch so here we are. I'd like to apologize to my doctor dad and all medical professionals everywhere lol. Also, I had intended for this to end in smut but then got lost in feelings so there mayyyy be a chapter 2. We'll see ;)

read on ao3!

You want to fuck him. It’s been decided. This realization couldn’t have come at a worse time, though. You’re surrounded by Jedi and Clone Officers in a very important meeting detailing your next mission. But you only have eyes for one of the men and he’s currently standing at the head of the room giving a briefing to the holo of Master Yoda. It’s a testament to Commander Wolffe’s presence that you barely notice the little green Jedi Master he’s conversing with. Well, his presence and his extreme handsomeness.

When you’d first met him, you’d been truly intimidated. The other women you worked with nodded in understanding, whispering they had been thrown off by his cybernetic eye and prominent scar. But that wasn’t it. You’d noticed those things, but that wasn’t what made you uneasy.

It was the fact that he took one look at you and seemed to see right into your soul. You couldn’t explain it but you felt like with just a glance, he could tell your deepest insecurities. And stars, did you have a lot of those.

You had worked your way up through the medical field and had started your residency at the biggest hospital in Coruscant. After your training ended, you had secured a permanent job there. It had been difficult, to say the least. Though you knew you were qualified, even more so than most of your male co-workers, you still doubted yourself often.

Jedi Master Obi-Wan Kenobi had come to visit you one nondescript Thursday afternoon, telling you of the need for doctors in the GAR. He said you came most highly recommended when he was searching for recruits but still, you thought a mistake had been made and that someone soon would realize and send you back to your normal life. It was a recurring nightmare you’d developed in the past few weeks that shook you from your sleep.

You had agreed to join the GAR, sympathetic to the cause and wanting to do your part. The next few weeks had consisted of you getting your bearings and meeting the rest of the staff at the base . Kix, the clone medic in charge, had helped you learn the ropes and had introduced you to all his brothers. At first, you had been overwhelmed by the sea of identical faces. As the weeks had gone on, you’d learned everyone’s names and they’d made you feel welcome, like one of their own.

The Commander and you had crossed paths several times. He was polite but distant. Not like you blamed him. He had more important things to do than exchange drawn out pleasantries. With each run-in, though, he seemed to be making more of an effort to be personable. Unfortunately, each conversation left you looking more and more like an idiot. Or a di’kut. The boys had been teaching you some Mando’a.

You were a medical professional, a well-respected doctor and yet Wolffe made you feel unsure of yourself. It had been so long since you’d had a crush that you didn’t realize this was what the beginning of one felt like.

*******

As you sit around the war room table, you feel even more like a school girl. Instead of paying attention to whatever Master Yoda is saying, you’re transfixed by Wolffe’s face. The hazy blue light from the holo reflects off his features, making him look ethereal. His scar looks even more prominent and you blush, remembering how often you’ve wondered what it would feel like to let your fingers trace it. And his lips. They’re moving, responding to whatever the Jedi has said. They’re mesmerizing and now you’re thinking of what it would be like to kiss him. Or even better yet, to have those lips pressed against the plushier parts of your body.

You continue to stare until you realize his face has turned to you. It probably only takes you a second to come back to reality but it feels like an eternity. Somehow you’re able to respond to the question.

“Yes, Commander. All medical personnel are prepared for an 0800 liftoff. Kix will take his team with the 501st and I’ll have my staff along with the 104th. We’ll reconnoiter once we’ve landed on Hisseen.” The rest of the table nods, moving the conversation along. Wolffe stares at you for a moment, a hint of a smirk on his lips. You avert your gaze, finding the table a much safer object of your attention.

The discussion wraps up and Wolffe stands at attention, puffing his chest out, before Master Yoda disappears. Once again, your eyes are drawn to him. You’re not sure how but he makes something so mundane look indescribably attractive. Wolffe’s head turns in your direction but you’ve already bolted from your seat, hoping to cool down in the hallway.

Kix pushes through the crowd to get to you. “Hey, Doc. How’d the meeting go?” You shrug. “Nothing new to report. Just making sure we’re all set for our campaign.” He’s shifting back and forth, a sort of glazed look in his eyes. You realize he’s not paying particularly close attention. It’s the look of someone asking you something just so they can request a favor in return.

“Hmm oh yeah, that’s nice. Say, Doc, do you think you could cover for me for a few hours? I have some urgent business to attend to.”

“Since when is playing Sabacc with Fives and the boys urgent?”

“Since I remembered how terrible they are at it. I can make a real killing playing against them.”

You laugh. It’s true. You’ve come to love those men but a lot of them are really horrible at the game. You’ll need to give them a remedial course if you have any downtime on Hisseen. “Of course. What do you need me to do?” He rewards you with a huge grin. “Nothing hard! A few higher ups coming in for their physicals. Just the usual. Make sure they’re in tip top shape to get shot at by some tinnies.”

He gives you the list. It’s only a handful of men but the last one on it makes your blood go cold. “Commander Wolffe needs a physical?” Kix is oblivious to your inner turmoil. “Oh yeah, but he knows the drill. Honestly everyone can do it themselves at this point. We’re basically there to oversee it as a formality.”

You swallow down your apprehension and nod. “Sounds easy enough. Go have fun. And take it easy on them, will ya? Let them keep a little of their dignity intact” Kix just grins and shoots you a wave as he runs off.

*******

Your first few appointments go just fine. The officers are professionals and Kix was right, they could do these routine physicals with their eyes closed. You give them all your seal of approval and settle in to do your paperwork before your last, most anticipated patient arrives. The forms in front of you hold no interest and you find yourself checking the chrono every few seconds.

It’s not easy but you manage to finish your work. You set it aside and take steadying breath. Five more minutes and he’ll be here. You scold yourself. The Commander has never been anything but professional. You’re the one thinking these very unprofessional thoughts.

And you’re a doctor, for kriff’s sake. Your patients should be able to come to you without worrying you may be fantasizing about what they look like naked. But these are uncharted waters. It’s your first time having to deal with a patient you’re this attracted to. They really should take your medical license away.

Just as you’re thinking of packing it all up and handing in your resignation to the Jedi Council, a knock at the door snaps you to attention. Well, here goes nothing. You scold yourself once again for checking your reflection in the mirror before answering the door.

You had tried to adopt a passive, professional look to your face before greeting Wolffe but it must not have worked. “Everything alright, Doc? I’m not early, am I?” You shake your head.“Not at all. Punctual as always, Commander.” You beckon for him to come in and take a seat. You close the door, then sit across from him at your desk.

Your datapad hums to life and you busy yourself opening the appropriate forms you need to fill out. The weight of his eyes is heavy on you and your cheeks heat up in spite of yourself. You push on through as best you can.

“Well, Commander, how are you feeling today?” There’s that ghost of a smirk again but it vanishes so quickly you're not sure if you imagined it. “I feel like a million credits.” You giggle despite it not even being that funny. You’ve got it bad. “Glad to hear it. This should be quick then.” You gather your equipment and get to work.

First, you take his weight. Then, you listen to his heart. You press the stethoscope to his sternum, thankful you can do this over his blacks. He observes you the whole time. “And what about you? How are you today, Doc?” You risk a glance and meet his eyes. That was a mistake.

“Me? Oh-um just fine. Maybe not like a million credits but a few hundred at least.” You trail off dumbly but he humors you with a chuckle. You’re not sure you’ve ever heard that sound from him before. It’s like music to your ears. “Anything I can do to help? You do look a little flushed. Are you sure you don’t have a fever?” You avert your eyes again.

“No. I’m alright. It’s just, uh, hot in these uniforms. The coarseweave doesn’t breathe.”

“You sure? Maybe I should be the one giving you a check-up.”

You realize he’s toying with you now.

“That won’t be necessary, Commander.”

You move on to check his lungs. “Breathe in for me.” You move the stethoscope to his chest, then move it around a few different spots on his back. “You can call me, Wolffe. If you’d like.” He breathes in every time, not even needing prompting, ever the dutiful soldier, even when he’s teasing you.

“I would like that. Thank you, Wolffe.”

Next, you measure his blood pressure. You’re shocked that it’s so low. He sees the look of surprise on your face. “Something wrong?”

“Not at all. The opposite, in fact. Your pressures are great. I just thought with your lifestyle they might, understandably, be a bit higher.”

“What kind of lifestyle do you think I have?”

You’re backtracking as quickly as you can. “I just meant, your life as a soldier, it must be extremely stressful.”

There’s that smirk again. “It is. But you don’t get to be a Commander by not being able to handle the pressure.”

“Of course. But even so, if you’d like some stress relief techniques I can suggest some.” He hums as if really thinking it over. Thankfully there’s only one part of your exam left. Which is good because you’re not sure how much resolve you have remaining.

“Everything looks great. I’ll just do a head and neck exam and then I can send you on your way.”

You need to touch him for this part but you stop yourself, hands hovering but not quite meeting their destination. You feel like once you touch him, really feel his skin under your fingers, there may be no going back.

Wolffe sees your hesitation, then slowly reaches out to take your hands. You watch with wide eyes as he guides them to his neck. He looks up at you innocently enough but you can tell he’s laughing internally. You try to reign in control of the situation.

“Sorry, I just got distracted.” The Commander studies you but this time it’s in earnest. “Are you nervous? This’ll be your first time in an active war zone, right?” You had been anxious but not about that. But now that he mentions it, yeah, you honestly don’t know what you’ve gotten yourself into.

“Yes, I’m not sure what to expect. I guess you could say I’m a little scared.” Wolffe gently holds your chin, directing you to look back at him. “I won’t lie. It’ll be overwhelming and frightening. Battles can seem never-ending. But I promise I won’t let anything happen to you.”

You’re staring into each other’s eyes and you don’t want to stop. But then he’s clearing his throat and gently removing his hand from your skin. You realize you’ve been resting your own hands on his shoulders this whole time. “Thank you, Wolffe. I do feel much better knowing you’ll be there.” You offer him a smile, hoping it conveys just how much you appreciate him looking out for you.

You begin your exam, gently kneading where his neck meets his shoulders, checking for any anomalies. Then you move to his throat. The throat you’ve so often been distracted by. It’s featured prominently in your daydreams. You move your hands along it, under his jawline. Having a man this powerful baring one of the most vulnerable parts of his body to you is intoxicating. Focus, di’kut.

Everything feels normal except for some knots you find resting right below the surface of his smooth skin. “Lymph nodes feel good. You’re a little tense, though. But I bet it’s from that bucket you have to wear most of the day.” He hums in thought. “True. But even so. Maybe you could give me some of those ideas for stress management?” He looks up at you with big eyes. There’s mischief in them but something else. Vulnerability?

You gulp audibly. “Of course. There are a few that work particularly well, um, like deep breathing techniques, going on walks, talking with friends, meditation, journaling, physical activity…” You’re rambling, fighting a losing game against your resolve. Wolffe thinks on it. “Physical activity seems like a good place to start.” His hands come up to gently cover yours that are still resting on his neck.

The sensation of his calloused fingers on your skin sends shivers down your body. You close your eyes, feeling the last of your self-control topple over. “Wolffe,” you whine “We shouldn’t…” He immediately drops his hands, worry etched on his face. “I’m so sorry. It’s just- I thought you wanted-.” He cuts himself off, snapping up to his feet and to attention. “Doctor, you should report me to General Plo Koon for immediate disciplinary action.”

Dank Farrik, you’ve just ruined everything.“Wolffe! No, I’m not reporting you to anyone. If anything you should report me for being so unprofessional.” His shoulders relax a bit but he still eyes you as if you’re a live grenade that might explode at any second. “What do you mean?” You sigh in frustration. This isn’t how you wanted to confess your feelings to him.

“I…want you, Wolffe. The second I realized that I should have asked to be re-assigned to a different battalion. Instead I thought I could push those feelings down and continue to do my job. Looks like that was a mistake.” You hang your head, avoiding his piercing gaze. He’s silent for just a moment but it feels like an eternity.

“So, you want me and I want you?” You nod your head, ashamed, as he continues. “Then what’s the problem, Doc?” Your eyes snap to his, not believing what you’re hearing.

“Isn’t it wrong of us?”

Wolffe sits down on the exam table again, genuinely thinking on it. “I don’t see why. We’re both consenting adults. We don’t work directly with each other- I report to General Koon, you report to General Kenobi- so there’s no real conflict of interest. The worst we’ll face is a little ribbing from the boys if they find out.”

You raise your head to look him in the eyes, needing to make sure he’s serious and that this isn’t some twisted joke. What you find staring back at you is hope and promise. He senses your trepidation and gently takes your hands in his. “I’m sorry if I came on strong. But the thing about this life is that there are no guarantees. Tomorrow isn’t promised and so I figured I’d rather go for something, someone, that I want and have my heart broken rather than regretting my inaction.”

Your eyes roam the scars on his face, evidence of just how true his words are. You’re heading into active battle tomorrow. One or both of you could be injured, or worse. You step towards him. He spreads his legs so you have room to get closer. You rest your forehead on his, breathing him in.

His hands come up to caress your sides. You take a shaky breath. He questions you softly. “Cyar’ika?” Ah, now that’s one of the new words you definitely remember. His vulnerability makes you ache and the decision to hand your heart over is an easy one. “You’re right, Wolffe. Might as well do some living while we can.”

*******

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #instead of becoming a doctor like my family wanted i decided to just write about being one who's slightly inappropriate instead #tcw fanfic #tcw #allie writes #my writing

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emerald-chaos · 3 years

Text

Touchdown

*gif not mine, credit goes to the owner*

I just want to take a moment to say thank you for the love on my last fic! It made my lil ole heart swell to see that peopled enjoyed it enough to leave a like or reblog.

This is just something special I had in my arsenal that I wrote for a friend a few months ago. I touched it up a bit and added a few things here and there. It all started when we were talking about how much we loved when Chris' accent got heavier after he'd been drinking, and well, I couldn't help myself lol. I hope you enjoy the fluff! xoxo

I apologize for any grammatical errors, I tried to proof-read but am also a little exhausted lol.

Pairing: Chris Evans x Reader

Word Count: 2844

Warnings: I don't think there's anyway? Mentions of being drunk/drinking alcohol, cursing, and illusions to sexy times, but that's about it.

You hadn’t noticed how furiously your knee was bouncing up and down until the person sitting next to you on the subway got up to move seats once the train squealed to a stop. You sighed and ran your hands down the front of your thighs. Normally being a little late didn’t bother you as much, but tonight you were meeting him.

You flipped your wrist over to check your watch. 8:30pm. In all honesty, it had probably been only thirty seconds later than when you checked it the last time. Another deep sigh escaped from your lips as you started to become hyper aware of the train remaining still at the current stop. What could possibly be taking so long? You knew he wouldn’t care if you were running late, but the time the two of you had together already felt so minuscule. You wanted to capitalize on every second you could.

The train began moving again and you slumped back into your seat, feeling only a small amount of relief. It was becoming painfully apparent that you needed to try and relax. You could feel the sweat building up on your body, the sting on your palms from where your fingernails were pressing in with a vengeance moments ago, and you could hear your heart thumping in your ears. Your hand dug around in your purse for a few moments before finding the small case you were looking for. Opening it, you slipped your headphones into your ears and let your head rest on the window behind you as music intertwined with your thoughts.

Once upon a time, you made fun of people who decided to go to grad school. What kind of a clown would spend thousands of MORE dollars and go BACK to school?? Not to mention the stress of the assignments, the due dates - it was not for you...or so you thought.

Now here you are, a regular booboo the fool.

NYU’s graduate program for design and merchandising wasn’t necessarily part of your 5-year plan, but when the opportunity landed in front of you it was difficult to pass up. NYU was a school you had only dreamt of attending back in high school. When you were a senior in high school you were able to tour the campus and fell in love immediately. Hours upon hours were spent researching grants, scholarships, and all sorts of ways to try to make it happen. However, the dream ended as most teenage dreams do - crushed. There was no way you or your parents could afford the loans that it would surely wrack up to attend the out of state university, and there was no way you could ask your parents take on that kind of debt just so you could go to college. UMass was the way to go - close to home and familiar. Not to mention you were able to obtain several scholarships and grants that helped bring down the cost tremendously. Little did you know, boring ole UMass would bring you one of the most important things in your life.

Applying for graduate school wasn’t an easy decision and one you couldn’t really take all the credit for. A smile crept across your face as you reminisced on the night you nervously brought up the idea to your long-term boyfriend.

“I think you should do it,”

“I know, right?” you scoffed, “it’s insane, why would I do something so stup...wait, what? You do?”

“Of course I do. This is something you love and that you’re passionate about. Do you know how many hours of my life were spent listening to you ramble about NYU?” he questioned with a grin.

“It will open up so many doors for you. We can make things work,” a chuckle escaped from those beautiful lips as he saw your dumbfounded expression. He wrapped his fingers around your waist and pulled you close, “What? Did you expect me to forbid it? Cmon, baby, what kind of guy do you take me for?”

You didn’t have a lot of wins in your life, but you did have Chris.

When you got accepted, he took off a week from work to drive you 3 and a half hours south to help get you settled and moved into your temporary new home. The two of you ate a disgusting amount of pizza, moved a ridiculous amount of heavy furniture in the middle of a summer heat wave, and enjoyed each other’s company before the long-distance thing would set in. Chris spent that week encouraging you every step of the way, talking you off the ledge when you were convinced you had made the wrong decision, and made sure to help you christen every possible surface of your new place in the most deliciously sinful way.

You bit your lip slightly at the thought and a warm feeling spread across your face. Chris was one of the most incredible people you had met in this world. Kind, caring, funny, intelligent, passionate, and god was he sexy. The connection the two of you had was scary at first, but now you just couldn’t imagine spending your life with anyone else.

The robotic voice came over the loud-speaker in the subway car and you were rudely ripped back to reality as it pulled into your stop. You hurriedly scooped up your bag and jogged off the train.

It had been a promise between the two of you when you moved that there would be equal effort when it came to visiting and keeping in contact while having good, open communication. Long distance was hard but the two of you were determined to make it work. FaceTime calls, hours upon hours of texting, and even as far as writing the occasional letter back and forth (because your boyfriend was a hopeless romantic and you loved it so much). This weekend was your turn to come home to visit, and of course your last class had to go longer than anticipated. Fuckin’ Tiffany and her stupid ass questions.

The muscles of your calves burned as you kept up your hurried pace, weaving through the crowds of people gathered on sidewalks outside of various clubs and restaurants. It was a weekend night and the Patriots were playing, which meant the city was more alive than usual. New York was it's own beast, but it was a different type of hustle and bustle. Nights like these made your heart ache for home - the thick Massachusetts accents, the rowdy voices of bar patrons arguing about the game, the hugs shared between family members as they parted after dinner, and the faint smell of nicotine and alcohol that hung in the air.

As the neon sign that hung in the pub window came in to view you felt your heart dip down into your stomach. Last weekend’s visit had to be cancelled due to some stuff coming up with Chris’ work and a surprise assignment for you, so you hadn’t seen your boyfriend in 2 weeks. With a deep breath you swung open the door and scanned the crowd for him. He told you that he would be there promptly at 7:15pm for pregame shenanigans with his friends - which actually translated to how many pitchers of beer could they suck down before kick off.

“Aw, come ON! That is such a bullshit call!”

You heard him before you saw him. Of course. A grin spread across your lips as you shook your head. The thought of leaving to avoid secondhand embarrassment crossed your mind briefly before you picked up your feet and made your way through the crowd toward the sound. A room full of people from New England and you would still recognize that voice anywhere.

Everyone else seemed to fade away as you saw the outline of the tall, dark haired man standing at the bar. The slight freckles that spattered the back of his neck, the Brady jersey that he spent WAY too much money customizing, and the signature backward ball cap were ingrained in your subconscious memory. Not to mention if you didn’t recognize his outline or his voice, you would definitely recognize that ass anywhere.

You loved how passionate he got about sports and the way his Boston accent seemed to get thicker with each beer he consumed. Growing up in the area, you wouldn't think the accent would send a tingle down your spine the way it does, but it was different - it was Chris. Not to mention the sparkle in his eye when he would watch his favorite team or the way he would get in to arguments whenever someone tried to say something negative about them. You loved your big, handsome, over-sized toddler man so damn much.

A light tap on his shoulder made him whip around, his slightly opened mouth from his interrupted conversation curved upwards into a wicked grin as he made the connection of who was finally standing in front of him.

“Hey there, handsome. I don’t see a ring on your finger. You single?” You grinned, feeling your entire body fill with warmth as Chris leaned back and grabbed his chest as he erupted in laughter.

“Nah, nah, nah, unfortunately for you I am taken” he responded as he snaked his arms around your waist, sliding his hands into your back pockets as he pulled you into his figure.

“That is too bad,” you tsk'd, running a finger down his toned bicep, “she’s one lucky girl.”

“I think I’m the lucky one,” he grinned. He leaned down to meet your lips in a kiss. You sighed into it, allowing your body to mold itself so perfectly into his. The taste of beer on his lips and the smell of his cologne was intoxicating - it was home. You immediately allowed him entrance as you felt his tongue glide along your bottom lip. Your body felt small in his strong grip and you couldn’t help but laugh a bit as he gave your ass a firm squeeze. Normally, this type of bold, public display of affection would make you cringe away but at this point you were lost in Chris that you had absolutely no shame. Each time the two of you embraced had always felt like the first. Your heart still fluttered and your knees still got weak, like you were a 16 year old being kissed for the first time.

In the middle of your reunion moment, however, something happened in the game that made the entire bar erupt in boo’s and curses. Chris lifted his lips from yours to look over his shoulder and inspect what he had missed. You laughed and shook your head as you pushed him back towards his friends and took a seat in the bar stool he had been standing behind initially. His large hands found a natural place on your shoulders. While his eyes remained glued on the TV he began applying a moderate amount of pressure to your neck and shoulders. You didn’t realize how much your body craved that touch, his touch, until you immediately melted back into him.

The bartender slid a beer in front of you with a wink and you mouthed your thanks. You felt a twinge in your heart as you looked around, taking in the atmosphere of the bar. This was a typical weekend night for the two of you whenever you were living together. Football, drinks, pub food, and friends. If it wasn’t this pub it was your living room, just a couple blocks away. You didn’t even mind that it was your first night back and you weren’t alone, spending it immediately wrapped up in your satin sheets. The atmosphere, the people - it was so warm and familiar that you really wouldn’t rather be doing anything else. Plus, being wrapped up together in the sheets was sure to follow.

“I missed you,” hummed a pair of lips as they placed a kiss on the shell of your ear. A shiver shot down your spine at the sensation of his warm breath fanning over your neck. You reached up a hand and connected it to the nape of his neck.

“I missed you too,” you replied, turning your head to plant a kiss on his stubbled cheek.

His arms changed position as he wrapped them in front of your shoulders and crossed them, resting his chin on the top of your head. Your hand absentmindedly rubbed his forearms as you nursed your beer and placed your focus onto the game for the first time tonight.

The laughter seemed to escape from your chest naturally and effortlessly the entire night, as it always had a habit of doing when Chris was around. The camaraderie between him and his buddies during a game was something you’d grown to enjoy over the years. Chris’ competitive nature and the way his jaw clenched when something wasn’t going the way he wanted was always kinda...hot. All of his friends were huge assholes, but in the best way. It was always entertaining to hear them jab at each other and do what they could to rile someone up. They were the life of every party you had ever attended and they had a way of making a boring night a lot more interesting.

Thankfully (for the integrity of the bar) the Pats won the game with a surprise touchdown in the last 30 seconds of the game. Chris, being the guy he is, bought a final round for his friends and a nearby group they had been going back and forth with all night. You couldn’t help but laugh as he drunkenly leaned across the counter and slurred his order to the bartender.

“I need a round for m’friends and for these assholes over here who thought Tom Brady was anything but a winner!” the group started yelling in protest and he simply waved them off and started sliding beers down the bar.

The group eventually moved to a bigger round top so everyone could shoot the shit and banter about the outcome of the game. You were tucked into Chris’ side, hands intertwined as he was passionately discussing the importance of Brady’s legacy with a stranger who made the mistake of stopping to talk to him. Your eyes followed the motion of your thumb as it traced small circles onto the back of his. Your other hand under your chin, holding up the weight of your head as your exhaustion started to catch up with you. Chris, although slightly drunk, picked up on your body language and raised your hand to his lips for a kiss.

“Alright, fellas,” he said as he stood up from his seat, pulling you up with him, “the lady and I are gonna call it a night. See you boys next weekend”.

“Chris, we don’t have to go,” you began to protest as he tucked his jacket around your shoulders.

“Mm, ‘course we do,” he replied with a soft smile, “you’re so tired, baby. I can see it in those beautiful eyes”.

You could feel your cheeks turn a light shade of pink as you rolled your eyes at his attempt at laying it on thick. After what felt like a proper 10 minute goodbye session, the group said their final goodbyes, hugs included, and you walked out of the pub hand in hand.

The walk home was filled with the sounds of cars passing by and conversation of what each other had missed in the week prior. Small talk typically felt like such a chore, but with Chris every conversation came naturally. Even when he had absolutely no idea what you were talking about, he would listen intently and ask all the questions as if it was the most interesting conversation in the world.

The lock on the apartment door clicked as you pushed it open and entered. You smiled as you stopped into the middle of the living room, taking in the home you missed so dearly. A soft tapping of toenails against the hardwood made your heart soar as you met the eyes of your sweet pup, Dodger. A squeal left your lips as you squatted down to give love to the sweet boy. Chris always made fun of you when you came home, saying that you always seemed to miss Dodger more than you did him and I mean, he wasn’t entirely wrong about that statement.

Once again lost in your own world, you didn’t even notice Chris leaned up against the wall watching you with a smile.

“Oh my god,” you gushed, standing up, “do you like...like me or something?”

Chris grinned as he crossed the room and caught your belt loop with his finger, pulling you into him slowly.

“Yeah,” his voice had dropped down an octave, “you could say that”.

“Mm,” your tongue swiped across your lower lip and you wrapped your arms around his neck, “care to show me how much?”

The look in his eyes made your core burn. The tension building between you two became too much to handle as you crashed your lips into his. The kisses were messy and you could feel the sense of urgency between you two. His beard scratched against the column of your throat with a delicious burn as he left wet kisses across your jaw and down the side of your neck. Chris’ hands found their way back into the ass pockets of your jeans as he started walking you back towards the direction of the bedroom.

Soon, there was a trail of clothes leading to your bedroom and you felt very sorry for your neighbors. It had been a long time, but Chris always had a way of welcoming you home.

#eeeeeeee #i love soft drunk boston frat chris so much it pains me #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans x reader #chris evans #chris evans headcanons #chris evans imagines #chris evans fic #chris evans fluff #chris evans x you #chris evans x y/n #chris evans/reader #chris evans/you #fluff #imagines #headcanons

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jedijesi · 3 years

Text

Luminary Love

Prince!Din Djarin x F!Princess!Reader

🤍Masterlist🤍

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Smut (F receiving, PiV, Breeding kink)

Summary: Tonight is your (unwanted) wedding to the soon-to-be King of Mandalore, but is there more to him than meets the eye?

Word Count: 3,100+

A/N: I’ve had this idea for several days now and I just needed to write it. Don’t worry tho bc the next ch. of biblichor will b out soon. Enjoy some Din content!🤍

All night long, you received congratulations and cheers. Thousands, billions of people would kill to be in your position, but you dreaded this more than anything. You never wanted to marry the soon-to-be king of Mandalore, but the Royal administration never gave you an option. Throughout the fantastical wedding, you repeatedly reminded yourself it was for your people - they are the ones who will prosper from this. Thankfully, his creed forbade him from removing his helmet in front of others, therefore you weren’t allowed to kiss him. The only time you had to touch him during the ceremony was when you held hands. Even then, his mastiff-leather gloves create a barrier from any real contact.

After the ceremony, you avoided your new husband as best you could. When it was time to put on a show, you had forced yourself to put on the royal smile you had been practicing. When eating, you sat as far away as possible from him but not far enough to worry the royal administrations that watched you two tentatively. The times you were called to waltz, you performed what you had been learning for months but never made eye contact with him. After a few dances, the royals watching had joined in and forgotten about you, giving you the perfect chance to escape.

You spent your time talking with other royalty, expressing your worries and concerns to Princess Mary of Ryloth. Unlike you, she was happily married, but it was her 3rd time. The first two suitors weren’t ‘good enough’ for her, so she became the royal’s biggest scandal and ignored her administration to marry for love. Luckily her experience with terrible lovers led to wonderful tips and tricks that she gladly gave you for your wedding night. You knew she was telling you these things to help, but in reality, it only made you feel worse about your new life.

“Djarin, my oldest friend, how are you enjoying your wedding?” General Paz said with a heavy pat to Din’s pauldron.

“It’s… grand.” Din sounded unconvinced by his own words.

“Grand? Is that all you have to say?”

“Well, everything appears wonderful, but my wife won’t speak nor look at me.”

“Have you attempted to talk to her?”

“Of course!” Din and Paz turn to watch you talk to Princess Mary. “She never responds, though.”

The uncomfortable feeling of Din’s stare props you to turn around. The blue and silver beskar statues jump when you catch them and quickly turn back to avoid any further embarrassment.

“I haven’t seen her in years, but she has grown to be quite beautiful, you must admit.” Paz shrugs.

“I know, it’s one of the many reasons I married her. I just… wish she’d give me a chance.”

“Well, she better. I overheard that the administration is already seething that you two haven’t gone back to your honeymoon suite.”

Din rolls his eyes under his helmet. “I don’t care about them. They shouldn’t have a say in my marriage.”

“Good luck arguing that. You know they expect an heir to be conceived tonight.”

“I already have Grogu. Is he not enough?”

“Nothing is enough for them, my friend.” Paz pats Din’s back reassuringly. “Just be kind to the poor girl. I’m sure she isn’t pleased with all of this.” He gestures to the grand chandeliers and dramatic towers of cake and food.

Din sighs as he fiddles with the edge of his cape. “Alright. I should probably go fetch her before the Administration creates any more drama.”

“Good luck, your majesty.” Paz bows as Din walks your way.

Din let’s go of his cape before wiping his armor of any lingering bits of dust and dirt, wanting to be as presentable as possible for you. When Din arrives behind you, he clears his throat and bows.

“My Princess, it is time for us to leave for the Honeymoon Suite.”

Without a word, you give him a nod and take his arm. The guests cheer and whisper as you and your husband make your way out of the ballroom. You could hear Royal Administers whisper their concerns regarding your fertility or your performance in bed. It was dehumanizing, to say the least. You fought for justice and equality on Naboo, but this was not the way on Mandalore. Your new role would be diminished to a supporting queen who would raise the future heirs. Meanwhile, the other women of Mandalore were busy serving valiantly in wars. This was the way. Mandalore was born out of extremists, and you had to embrace the consequences.

Din hated the whispers. If he were king, he would have lashed out long ago, but the coronation isn’t for another few days. You didn’t deserve to be treated as an object. Din saw you to be the goddess that would help lead his people into prosperity and the gorgeous woman who may one day graciously birth his children. Such slander against someone so perfect made Din rage under his helmet. A few more days. Din would remind himself.

The Suite reflected Mandalore: grand and majestic. Silver swirls of beskar outlined the stained glass windows that watched over Mandalore. The bed was larger than any other you had seen before. It looked cozy; a complete contrast to the large and uncomfortable dress you’ve been wearing all day. You walked over to touch the silk-like blankets and sighed at its softness.

Din watched you with interest - mesmerized by the way the roaring fireplace creates a golden glow on your features. “Wife?”

“Hmm?”

“Why don’t you look at me?” The flicker of sadness in his voice took you by surprise. You weren’t sure if Mandalorians could feel emotions underneath the layers of cold beskar. “Do I… scare you?”

You turn to look at him, your nerves shining through by the twiddling of your thumbs. “I… I don't know.”

“What is wrong, my dear princess? I want to fix this. I don't want to start our marriage off on the wrong foot.” You sit down on the luxurious bed, your eyes now watching as you fiddle with your dress. Din walks towards you, taking a knee to be at eye level with you. “I understand this isn't what you wanted. I heard whispers that it took the maids an hour to get you off your ship. That you fought off any guard that laid a hand on you.” Din chuckled at the image he had created in his head. “But then the fighting stopped… why?” You couldn't find it within yourself to respond. “Won’t you please entertain my curiosity?”

You sighed and looked up into the dark visor. “I realized I was being selfish. I had forgotten that marriage among the royals was for the people… not for love.”

“You do not love me?”

“We barely know each other, your majesty.”

“What are you speaking of? We used to be best friends.”

You scoffed at Din. “We were children, your majesty. You were just a servant boy in the palace back then, but times have changed, haven't they, your majesty.”

“Please refrain from calling me ‘your majesty.’ I thought we were beyond that.” Din groaned, annoyed by the ridiculous title.

“Din, you're to become the Mandalore - the king - in a few days' time. I understand the rules - I understand why you had to marry me.”

“What? So that I could officially hold the title as king? I don't care about a stupid title - the administration does.”

“Then why marry me? There are millions of royals lined up to marry the Mandalore, but why choose me, Din? Why?” You started getting hysterical at it all. Your life's work had come to a halt just so that Din could be crowned king. It was disgusting and unfair.

“As an orphan-servant boy, the days your family visited were the best days of my life. Your parents always treated me like their own - the complete opposite of how the Kryze family did. I meant it when I said you were my best friend. You were the only person who could beat Paz and me in a fight. The only person who would sneak out of the palace to play in the garden at night with me. When your parents… passed and you stopped visiting me… It crushed me. I never stopped thinking about you, my princess.”

You could hear the build-up of tears in Din’s throat, but he wasn't the only one. You too had tears in your eyes, remembering the once pure and innocent life you had. You bring your hand up to din's helmet, holding where his cheek would be.

“Do you remember that last night?”

“Of course I do. It was a cold night in the rose garden. I gave you my coat since you had insisted you didn't need your shall.” Din smiled and chuckled at the memory.

“I... I never saw your lips, but I had never felt such pure joy than the moment they molded against mine.”

Din leans his head forward to rest your foreheads together. Underneath, he continued to beam. It had been so long since he had felt such love - such love that could only be created by you.

“My princess, I never stopped loving you. Even as we grew up and apart, I would watch the holovids that spoke about you, and all the wonderful things you were doing for your people. It was the only thing that kept me going through those torturous years apart from you. I love you.”

Din’s arms wrapped around your waist, pulling you into a tight hug. You reciprocated by wrapping your arms around his shoulders and burying your head in the crook of his neck. “I love you too, Din.”

“My wife?”

“Yes, my husband?”

“Will you take this ridiculous helmet off of me so that I may kiss you and make love to you?”

Your glowing smile melts Din’s heart. Your hand reaches up to slowly slide off the silver beskar helmet that covered those features you dreamt of. An audible gasp escapes past your lips when Din’s lips appear. It took everything in you to not pounce on him and cover him in kisses, but you maintain your composure. His nose was strong and beautiful, and his cheeks… oh, how you wanted to leave lipstick stains on them. Then were his perfect eyes. Those chocolate eyes that expressed an amount of love you'd never completely fathom in your life.

“You're stunning, Din.” Din’s heart flutters at your words. The only compliment he's ever received was about his combat skills and valor. He's never been complimented on his looks before.

“I’d never compare to my gorgeous wife.”

Din takes your face into his palms and slowly pulls you in for a kiss. The moment your lips touch, you feel fireworks exploding all around you. The glowing lights flash behind your eyelids as you mold your lips together. The tickle of his mustache causes you to giggle into the kiss, which Din finds to be enchanting. One of Din's hands leaves your face to grip your torso, massaging and kneading your skin.

“I love you.” He murmurs into the kiss. “I love you more than the moons and stars.”

As the kisses become more intense, so does your lust for one another. Din’s hands undo the strings of your wedding dress as you shed his armor off - lips never leaving each other. Once you two were completely naked, Din had you crawl to the center of the bed.

“Now, lay back, my love. I want to show you how much I love and miss you.” You follow his instructions and rest your head on the large cloud-like pillows.

Din crawls between your legs, taking one into his hand. Starting from your ankle, he works his way down, leaving a trail of sloppy yet delicate kisses. He takes his time at your inner thigh, sucking and licking at your skin to make you emit whimpers.

“D-Din, please don't tease me.”

“Hush, now. Let me take my time loving you.” And he does. He spends his time worshiping your body - kissing and sucking the skin around your lips while his hand massages your breasts. Suddenly, Din dives into your sopping wet cunt, immediately sucking and licking your swollen clit. You let out a loud gasp followed by a moan, making Din’s cock bounce up in excitement.

Your noises sound like music - the most angelic music he's ever heard in his life. Each moan and whimper you let out only addicted him more. Din wraps his hands around your waist and sits back, lifting your hips from the bed and to his mouth. You grip the blankets with a scream as Din explores further into your pussy. The animalistic grunts and growls he lets out only make you wetter.

“Come on, Princess. Cum. Cum all over my face. I need it.” And just like that, you let out a scream as you convulse around his tongue. Din slowly lowers you back onto the bed as he licks up your dripping cum. “You're sweeter than a meiloorun, darling. I've never tasted anything so divine. I’d love to stay between your legs forever and drink your cum until the day I die, but I wanna put a baby in you too badly to do so.” You let out a whimper at his filthy words. “Can I, darling? Will you let me fuck a baby into you?”

“Wait, we're not done?” You ask through pants.

“Not done? We’ll be done when the sun wakes up. Even then, I'm not sure if we'll ever be done. Why?”

“The other princesses said it would only be a minute of discomfort, and it’ll be over.

Din tsks and shakes his head, pressing a few kisses to your clit. “Oh, my darling. I'm not like those other royals. I care about my wife’s pleasure, and you…” Din presses more kisses to your overstimulated heat. “Are nowhere near done with your, please. So, I'll ask you again. Are you ready for me to fuck a baby into you with my thick, hard cock?”

“Stars, yes! Please, Din!” You hated how completely and utterly desperate you sounded, but you were completely and utterly desperate for Din to fuck you.

Din crawls up to meet your half-lidded eyes, drooping with lust. He places soft kisses on your cheeks before pressing one to your lips. “Are you ready for me, Princess?”

“Yes, my husband.”

Din grabs his cock, lining it up with your entrance. With a loud moan, he enters your sopping wet pussy.

“Oh, you're so wet! Ungh… Stars, you're so tight too!” Din’s thrusts speed up to a steady pace, your moans echoing through the room along with the lewd, wet sounds of your bodies pounding together. “From this day forward, y-your. Pussy. Belongs. To. Me.” Din emphasizes his words with his cock hitting against your g-spot.

“O-Only i-if your cock b-belongs - Oh yes, Din - To me.”

Din chuckles through his labored breaths. “Of course, my love. My cock is forever yours to do what you please with. I don't care what time- ugnh- or what p-place. It's yours.” You lean up to capture din’s parted lips, swallowing his beautiful moans. The knot in your stomach starts to tighten. Desperate for your release, you buck your hips back into Din. “Yes, take my cock. It's yours. All yours.” Din takes your legs, pushing them to your chest. Both of you let out a series of loud moans at the deeper feeling.

“Oh, Din! I'm going to cum if you keep doing that!”

“Ugh, I can see the galaxy when I'm inside you! Can you feel that, my love?”

“Yes, I-I can feel your throbbing cock!” You throw your head back at the euphoric feeling. Your exposed neck allows Din to swoop down and suck marks onto it.

“Th-That's me, claiming what's mine. You're all mine, my princess.” Din’s thrusts speed up, desperate and ready for you to cum. Each thrust was accompanied by a loud grunt that made you clench even tighter. “I'm gonna cum. I'm going to give you a baby - our baby. Are you ready?”

“Yes, Din! I love y-you!” You scream out a slew of ‘i love yous’ and clench tightly around Din’s swollen cock. Your orgasm and words of love cause Din to cum, sending spurts of his cum into your womb, where your future child would soon grow.

Din collapses on you which you gladly accept. You wrap your arms around his neck and place kisses on the crown of his head. Both of you stay like that for a while, basking in pure love. Once your breaths are back to normal, Din slowly pulls out of you to lay on the bed beside you. He pulls you closer to him so that no space lingered and adjusted the blankets to create a cocoon of comfort around you two.

You smile as you listen to his heartbeat against his chest. Din’s index finger presses to the underside of your chin, adjusting your eyes to look into his.

“Are you okay, my love?”

You nod lazily, completely worn out. “You know, having a husband isn't so bad after all.” Din lets out a hearty laugh before leaning down to kiss you.

“Yeah, having a wife isn't so bad either.” Din smirks at you, causing you to shy away in embarrassment and return your attention to his chest. Your fingers trace shapes and words onto his chest until you stop. A mark on Din’s torso prompts you to inspect it. “What are your curious fingers doing, my love?”

“What is this?” You ask as your finger traces the mark.

“It’s just a scar, dearest.”

“A scar?” You look back at Din with worry in your eyes.

“Oh, don't worry, my love. I've collected so many over the years, I've become immune to them. That one was either from when I fought Bo-Katan or when I fought a mudhorn to save my son.”

“Goodness.... I've missed so much of your life.” Your face droops with sadness, but Din is quick to relieve your worries.

“Now, it's nothing to be upset over. Yes, we've missed a lot, but that means we can spend the rest of our lives catching up and making new memories. Plus, you can meet my son tomorrow.”

You smile and press a chaste kiss to Din’s lips. “I’d love that.” You pressed another kiss to his lips, but this one wasn't so innocent.

“Did I not satisfy you, my love?” Din chuckles into the kiss. You climb on top of him and shake your head. “Oh, does my princess want more?”

You give Din a mischievous grin and shrug.

Din smirks before leaning in to kiss you. “Well, who am I to deny my wife of her wishes?”

A/N: Idk who from my Javier Peña taglist wants to be on this one, but those who are interested in being added to a Din Djarin taglist or a perminante taglist, please let me know.🤍 Can’t wait to hear what you all think!

#luminary love #din djarin x reader #din djarin x f!reader #din djarin #the mandalorian x reader #din djarin smut #din djarin fluff #din djarin angst #pedro pascal x reader

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fruitcoops · 3 years

Note

hiii i've just spent the last 36-48 hours reading your works and oh dear do i lOVE your writing and this universe :') . i dont know if you are taking requests but i think it would be kinda interesting (and low key hilarious) if you would write the lions reacting/reading thirst tweets? idk if this is a dumb idea or not but just like some of them reacting to them and going "well i'm actually gay/married so.. no!.. but thank you!"

Part two of the six-month celebration, everyone! Thank you thank you THANK YOU to everyone who submitted comments--I had over 60 come in, and while I couldn’t include them all, reading them was a true joy. The Lion Pride channel was something I started writing on a whim; I never expected it to grow like this <3 Much love to all of you!

TW for alcohol mentions and thirst tweets (nothing explicit)

“Why do I always fear for my life around you?” Sirius asked as Marlene settled into a cushy chair to the side of their table.

She smiled, catlike, and crossed her legs primly. “Because only Finn appreciates me.”

“That’s just the Aries connection, Cap,” Finn said with a smug grin.

“We’re both Leos, Harzy.”

“Eh, close enough.”

Remus raised an eyebrow at her. “You should probably start asking questions before this devolves further, Marley. He’s gonna keep digging himself a hole and we won’t get anything done.”

Marlene’s smile returned with a vengeance. “That’s where you’re wrong, Loops! We’re not doing any questions at all today.”

“I don’t believe you.”

“Read it and weep.” She tossed a small posterboard at him like a frisbee; he caught it, barely, though both Talker and Sirius had to duck out of the way. Marlene faced the camera and winked. “Welcome back to Lion Pride, everyone! Today I’m here with Sirius Black, Remus Lupin, James Potter, Thomas Walker, and our wonderful cubs to react to your comments on our videos!”

“Bet you thought we’d never see ‘em, huh?” James asked.

“The comments fall into four categories: thirsty, funny, mean, and sweet. I will be reading two of those groups, and my lovely fiancée will be reading the others because she is the human embodiment of sunshine.”

“If you make Dorcas read the mean ones, I’ll be sad,” Leo laughed.

Marlene gave him a look of disbelief. “You think I’m passing up a chance to roast you guys? Puh-lease. We’re starting off strong with some thirsty, thirsty comments! Loops, you’re up first.”

“This is going to be fun,” Sirius said, leaning back in his chair.

She cleared her throat, then turned a smoldering look on their table. “I didn’t know I had a freckle kink, but then Remus Lupin appeared and now here we are.”

“Oh, shit,” Remus muttered, covering his face with his hands as the others howled with laughter.

“Lupin has been looking sexy as hell on the bench for years now. I'm so glad people are simping over him like he deserves,” Marlene read. “And there’s a little heart emoji, just for you.”

“This is every one of my nightmares come to life,” Remus said, though his voice was muffled by his forearms.

James lifted his glasses to swipe away the tears of mirth that had gathered in his eyes. “Are you kidding? This is everything I have ever wanted.”

“Y’know, it is so good to see people drooling over this hot piece of ass at last,” Finn sighed, reaching over to ruffle Remus’ hair as his face turned bright red.

“One more, and it’s a good one,” Marlene warned. She licked her lips, then had to take a moment to laugh before speaking. “I feel like Remus Lupin is the type of guy to bake you muffins—”

“Accurate,” Leo said.

“—but is also a kinky motherfucker.”

Remus’ mouth dropped open as the table erupted into cheering. Logan pumped both fists in the air and Sirius was laughing so hard no sound came out; Talker sank so low in his chair that only his head and shoulders were visible as he applauded.

“Why do people comment these things?” Remus asked, barely above a whisper. “Holy fuck, I’m engaged!”

“Speaking of…” Marlene raised her eyebrows and Sirius smile drooped.

“Oh, no.”

“Oh, yes. Buckle up, Cap!” She rolled her shoulders out. “Get someone who looks at you the way Sirius Black looks at a hockey puck.”

Remus snorted; James’ laugh was so short and sharp that it set everyone else off as well. “That sounds like I have a hockey puck fetish!” Sirius complained. “Which is so, so not true!”

Finn made an ‘ehh’ noise, and he leaned around Remus to smack the back of his head. “Hey!”

“Next one!” Marlene announced. “Sirius Black was my bi awakening.”

A beat of silence passed. “Is that it?” Sirius ventured, looking nervous.

“Yep.”

“Aw, man, that one’s lame,” Talker said, shaking his head. “Everyone thinks Cap is a little hot.”

Remus shot him a look. “A little?”

“Fair. Marley, I dare you to find one person who wouldn’t tap that.”

She rolled her eyes. “Me, though that dovetails nicely into the last one for our lovely captain. Ahem. I understand why Remus is with Sirius: he's hot as hell and rich, I'd hit that too.”

“Oh, fuck, you’re right,” Leo gasped. “Why didn’t I think of that?”

Finn and Logan turned to him in unison with a mix of disbelief and offense written all over their faces. “Dude.”

“First of all, Leo, you found yourself two hot rich boys,” Remus interrupted. “Second, that comment is forgetting that he’s funny, and smart, and nice, and—”

Seconds after the initial cover, Sirius took his hand off Remus’ mouth as if he’d been burned. “Did you just lick me?”

“Moving on! This is in all caps, so be prepared.” Marlene shuffled through her posterboards and turned to Leo with an ominous smile. He glanced toward the camera in mild fear. “What does a person have to do to get some hockey player ass?! Like why is Leo Knut so fine?!”

“Amen!” Logan called as Leo blushed.

“According to six of the seven people at this table, the answer to that first question is to be a hockey player,” Talker laughed. “The world may never know the answer to the second, sadly.”

“Lily could play hockey,” James said, resting his chin on his hand. Every single one of the others rolled their eyes. “She could! She’d be so good at it, too.”

“We know,” Finn groaned. “You only mention it every other day.”

“Speaking of the lovely Mrs. Potter,” Marlene began with a sly look as she held up a new card. “Do James and Lily Potter need a third? Asking for me specifically.”

James paused, dumbstruck, while the others drummed their hands on the table. “…no?”

A general sigh of disappointment went up. “I was really hoping he’d say yes,” Leo said.

“Ask Lily next time,” Remus recommended.

James turned to him and blinked slowly. “What are you insinuating, Loops?”

“Oh, nothing.”

“Don’t worry, James, you’ll like this one,” Marlene assured him. “James Potter is the ultimate dilf.”

“You’re damn right I am!” James whooped. “Vindication, bitches!”

“Marley, what have you done?” Talker whispered. “He’ll never shut up about that, now.”

“Oh, never,” James all but cackled. “I’m officially a dilf, you guys!”

“I hate you,” Sirius groaned.

“Tremzy, are you ready? We’ve got a couple very special ones for you,” Marlene said.

“Anything to get us out of this hell,” Logan begged.

“In that case: Logan Tremblay’s ass is better than Sidney Crosby’s. I said what I said.”

A pleased flush rose to his cheeks as Finn and Leo high-fived over his head. “Really? Thank you!”

“And they would be correct!” Finn announced. “Best ass in the league.”

“Come on,” Remus scoffed, though he was smiling.

Marlene cleared her throat to get their attention. “I don’t think I can legally read this on air without being censored or getting the video taken down, but…”

She turned the board around; all seven of them leaned forward to read it, then slowly looked at Logan, who turned vivid red. “Mon dieu. Is that—someone commented that on a video? Like, for people to see?”

“I feel like I need to bleach my eyes,” Sirius said just as Finn began shaking with silent laughter.

Leo’s face fell. “You wrote that, didn’t you?”

“I did,” Finn wheezed, scooting forward to fist-bump Marlene. “We wanted to see what you guys would say. Fuckin’ hell, your faces.”

“Alright, Talkie, are you ready?” Marlene asked around her laughter. “Seeing Thomas Walker with a baby makes me want to have his babies…please hit me up.”

He held up his index finger and took a second to laugh before responding. “If that’s Noelle, yes. If that’s anyone else, I’m flattered, but absolutely not.”

Logan made a face. “Ew.”

“We have two more,” Marlene warned. “For some very special people that aren’t here today, but I think you’ll like them anyway.”

Sirius narrowed his eyes. “I don’t trust the look on your face.”

“Daddy Dumo makes me swoon.”

A muddle of horrified noises echoed through the studio as all seven of them cringed. “Oh, my god, that’s my dad!” Logan yelped, covering his ears. Sirius looked vaguely ill and Remus’ shoulders crept toward his ears; James shuddered.

“The worst part is, we all know he can get it,” Finn said with a grimace. “God, I feel like I just heard someone talking about my parents having sex.”

“I’m sure he’ll love to hear that,” Marlene laughed. “Last one, from one of our truth or drinks.”

Remus went pale half a second too late. “N—”

“Hope Lupin is a milf.”

A broken noise escaped his mouth and he clamped his hand over it while Talker rubbed his back in sympathy. Sirius shook his head. “Somehow, that’s worse than Dumo’s.”

“Whoever sent that in, show some respect!” Leo said indignantly as Remus bonked his forehead against the table. “Hope Lupin is a lovely woman!”

“I think they noticed that particular fact,” Marlene pointed out, earning herself several scandalized shouts of her name and a whine from Remus. “That’s all we have for thirst comments! Are you ready for some funny ones?”

“Anything,” Remus pleaded. “I am begging you, anything else.”

Marlene shook her head as she stood, still smiling, and kissed Dorcas on the cheek when she entered the frame. “Go for it, love.”

“Dorcas!” they all cheered, lighting up immediately.

“Hey, guys, it’s been a while!” She curled up in Marlene’s vacant spot and took her own posterboards out from underneath the seat. “Alright, let’s rock and roll. Pascal Dumais is the team dad and nothing will change my mind, and Tremzy is the annoying youngest child.”

“That is so accurate,” Sirius laughed, leaning just out of range of Logan’s playful punch. “Whoever commented that has no idea how right they are.”

“We’ve got a whole sibling dynamic thing going on,” Talker agreed. “Tremzy’s the baby of the family, Cap is the quietly chaotic middle child, and Pots is the older brother that starts shit and inevitably gets blamed for however out-of-control it gets.”

Dorcas nodded. “You are one hundred percent correct. In a similar vein: Pots was the dad jokes friend before he was even a dad.”

“Painfully so,” Leo confirmed, shaking his head as they all groaned in agreement. James looked rather smug about the whole thing. “So many puns.”

“Oh, you’ll like this one,” Dorcas mused as she drew a new card. “If Tremzy looked directly into my eyes for even two seconds, all of my problems would be solved. I am sure of it.”

“Yes,” Finn and Leo said in unison.

“It’s something about the eyes, I think,” James added. “They just stand out so much that it’s a little startling straight-on.”

Logan looked to the camera and stared at it, unblinking; it zoomed in slightly on his face. “Everything will be fine,” he said with mock solemnity. “Your problems are solved.”

“Well, that was terrifying,” Sirius said drily. “Got any more for us, Ms. Meadowes?”

“Of course I do! We’ve got quite a few for Loops and Leo.” She took a sip of her water before getting comfortable again. “My favorite thing about these videos is that we can all see Loops get steadily buffer as the season goes on. Good for you, king!”

“Flex! Flex! Flex!” the six of them chanted; Remus rolled his eyes, but slid his sweater sleeve to his elbow and flexed his forearm, resulting in enough hoots and hollers that they could probably be heard a block away. Talker fake-swooned into Leo’s arms and Remus lightly whacked him on the shoulder.

“Remus Lupin looks like he has squishable cheeks,” Dorcas read aloud.

“He does!” James cooed, scooting over and reaching out.

Remus narrowed his eyes. “I swear to god I’ll bite you.”

Sirius cupped his face between his palms and kissed his nose, then pinched both his cheeks gently. “Ta-da!”

“How many of these do we have?” Remus asked, though his voice was a bit muffled by Sirius’ hands.

“Just one more for you, and it’s my personal favorite.” Dorcas assured him. “I love how the team probably had no impulse control until Loops joined.”

Sirius let go of his face and dissolved into laughter as Finn nearly fell on the floor. “Oh my—you think he has impulse control?” Talker slapped the edge of the table as he shook his head. “Absolutely not. Hell no, Loops is the first person to do stupid shit with us.”

“Yeah, I just don’t get caught,” Remus added around his own laughter. “Everyone thinks I’m such a hardass goody-two-shoes and it lets me get away with so much more than you delinquents.”

“Speaking of delinquents,” Dorcas continued. “This one is from our ‘Taste Testing Sexy Alcohol’ video: ah, yes, now I know how to do a body shot. 10/10, very educational video.”

“Do not take educational advice from us,” Finn blurted instantly. “I know this is a joke, but please exercise caution. That video was a ton of fun but a nightmare to recover from.”

Sirius winced at the memory. “I took two naps and then wished for death for a full day.”

“On a lighter note, who’s ready for some Knutty appreciation?” Dorcas smiled at her cards. “I've only had Leo Knut for a season and half, but if anything happened to him, I would kill everyone in this room and then myself.”

“Big mood,” four of them said simultaneously.

Leo turned to the camera with a concerned look on his face. “That’s a meme reference, but are y’all okay?”

“No,” Dorcas answered. “Especially not this next person: Sometimes I do something productive and then I remember @LeoKnut is a 19 year old professional athlete who radiates happiness and with two of the hottest boyfriends the good lord has made, and then my bowl of packaged ramen seems less impressive.”

“I’m proud of your ramen,” Leo said, even as the corners of his mouth twitched in a smile. “And I appreciate the note about my boyfriends, because they are definitely the hottest people the good lord has made.”

Talker stuck his lip out in a pout. “Rude.”

“Sorry, Talkie, I’m biased.”

“Last one before Marlene comes back, so you’d better enjoy it!” Dorcas announced. “Did the Lions effectively utilize girl power when they wrecked toxic masculinity, yes or yes?”

“Can we utilize girl power?” Remus wondered, resting his shin on his hand. “Isn’t that exclusively for, y’know, women?”

“We can utilize himbo power,” Finn suggested.

James gave him an offended look. “Not all of us are himbos!”

“Okay, but you definitely are.”

“I am not!” James held up his fingers to count. “There are only, like, three qualifications, right? I might be strong, hot, and respectful, but I’m not dumb so it doesn’t count!”

“Pots,” Remus said quietly, hiding his smile for half a second. “Buddy, that was four things.”

James paused, then sighed in resignation. “Ah, fuck, I’m a himbo.”

“You really are.”

“At least we don’t promote toxic masculinity.”

They raised their waterbottles in a ‘cheers’ motion as Marlene and Dorcas switched spots; Marlene stretched her arms over her head and grabbed the new boards. “I’m back, beloved himbos. Talker, Leo, you are beloved by the people and have no mean comments. Cap, we’re starting with you.”

“Are they actually mean mean?” he asked.

“Sirius Black seems like a little bitch. Not in a bad way, necessarily. He just. Seems like he'd be a little bitch."

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Oh, okay. That answers one question.”

“He’s not a little bitch,” Leo said. “Pouty on occasion, but not a little bitch.”

Remus gave him a long look, then shook his head. “Yeah, I mean, you teared up a little when Hattie got a splinter in her paw but didn’t even yell when you almost sliced your finger off while making dinner.”

“Duality of man,” Finn said sagely.

Marlene cocked an eyebrow. “Finn O’Hara’s hair kind of reminds me of Garfield the Cat.”

“Alright, that’s just rude.”

“It does not!” Logan gasped at the same time Leo made a noise of agreement.

Finn turned to him in utter betrayal. “Nutter Butter, I thought you liked my hair!”

“I do!” Leo defended. “But they’re not entirely wrong. It’s very orange in the sun.”

“I’m never going to forget that,” Finn muttered, staring at the floor.

“Ugh, it bothers me so much that Lupin just objectifies Black all the time!” Marlene read in a high-pitched, nasal voice. “No respect in that relationship!”

Sirius raised his eyebrows. “Pardon?”

Marlene stared at it for a moment, then shrugged. “Yeah, I have no idea what videos they were watching. Do you feel objectified in your relationship, Cap? I know the opinion of total strangers really bothers you a lot.”

“I’m really glad you picked up on that,” he said with false gravity. “Yeah, it’s such a bummer when my hot fiancé says I look nice. Such a blow to my self-esteem.”

“That was supposed to be a roast against me,” Remus said, looking amused. “Talk about backfiring.”

“Are you ready, Pots? This one’s pretty brutal,” Marlene warned. James nodded and Finn linked their hands for moral support. “James Potter is a swiftie and you cannot tell me otherwise.”

He furrowed his eyebrows. “…yeah? That’s true? T Swift is a regular occurrence on the locker room playlist.”

“Also, James Potter looks like someone who would think black pepper was spicy.”

“Now that one is mean,” he complained as the others burst out laughing. “It’s not my fault I have sensitive taste buds!”

“Oh, honey,” she said under her breath as she took a new card. “Get ready, Tremzy. This first one is short and sweet: Logan Tremblay looks like a lesbian.”

“That is not an insult,” Logan laughed. “Every lesbian I know is rad as fuck. I wish I looked that good in a leather jacket.”

“I just realized Logan doesn’t look short cause he’s next to bunch of hockey players, he’s short cause he’s 5’9.”

The smile slipped off his face in a millisecond as the others roared with laughter. “Quoi?”

“Oh, she got you good,” Sirius gasped, patting his shoulder clumsily. “Holy fuck, can I frame that?”

“That’s not what it says.” An edge of distress appeared in Logan’s voice. “Marley, that’s not what it says.”

James sat on the floor with the heels of his palms pressed against his eyes. “You’re fucking—whoever sent that in, you are my new favorite person. Jesus.”

“Do you need a second to recover before we move on?” Dorcas asked as she draped her arms over the back of Marlene’s chair. “The next one is our biggest section by far.”

“It’s the sweet ones, yeah?” Leo asked.

“Right.”

“It might be a good idea to do those before Lo spontaneously combusts.”

“Agreed!” She swapped with Marlene and hauled a short stack of posterboards out from their hiding place with a smile. “A hug from Dumo can probably solve any issue.”

“Facts,” Logan said. “I could really use one right about now, too.”

“Has anyone noticed how blue Leo Knut’s eyes are?”

“Yes,” the six of them chorused.

Finn gave him a dreamy look. “Every single day.”

“When I first read this one, I thought I wrote it,” Dorcas said with a snort. “Someone give Marlene a raise. No reason why, I just love her.”

“Can we do that?” Sirius asked, looking toward the camera crew. “Can we lobby to give you guys raises? Because you definitely deserve it after all the bullshit you deal with to make these videos watchable, and Marlene, you’ve drawn the short end of the stick ninety percent of the time.”

“How?” she called off-screen.

“You have to actually talk to us and try to get answers.”

“Fair.”

Dorcas finished scribbling something down on her notepad. “Just making a note of this conversation for future reference. Moving on! Sirius Black and James Potter are a prime example of hockey husbands, and I adore them.”

“The ironic part of that is that we’re both in committed relationships, but we’re basically married,” James mused.

Remus shook his head. “You guys are so married. Lily wanted to get you matching rings for your birthday, Pots.”

“That would be so cool!” they said in perfect unison. Remus turned to the camera and spread his hands in a case in point motion.

Dorcas stifled her laughter before moving on. “This one is cute. Give Remus Lupin all the hugs! I feel like I could tell him he’s an inspiration and he’d be so nice about it—” She paused to glance up at them. “—this next bit is in parentheses: all the LGBT Lions give me that vibe, but Cap and Knutty are super intimidating so I wouldn’t have the guts.”

Leo’s face fell and Sirius’ eyebrows pitched. “I’m not intimidating!” Leo protested. “I thought we already went over that! Loops gives fantastic hugs, but I want some, too.”

“He definitely deserves all the hugs in the world, but I promise I’m nice,” Sirius said, a bit softer than usual. “Is it because we’re tall?”

Dorcas half-shrugged. “Probably. It’s a little startling at first. Oh, I could’ve written this one, too: The Venn diagram of men I trust and the Gryffindor Lions is a full circle.”

Talker beamed at the camera. “Thank you!”

“So many hockey guys are such douchebags,” Logan said with a shake of his head. “I’m really glad we don’t do that shit.”

“Me, too.” Dorcas slid her old card under her chair. “Sirius Black’s hair looks so soft and I just want to touch it so bad.”

“It is so soft,” Remus agreed immediately. “You have no idea.”

“Everyone wants to touch Cap’s hair,” Finn said, sighing. “It’s so majestic.”

“I need a haircut.”

“No, you don’t,” Remus said as he tugged a stray curl. Sirius hummed.

“This one is from the interview some you did with Jules and Katie: these hockey boys being so soft with kids is my aesthetic! Like, it’s just so adorable to see these big, intimidating dudes be so, so sweet! Love them all!” She turned the card for them to see. “And then they added a heart at the end.”

“It’s impossible to be around those kids and not be happy,” James said. “They’re just too cute and wonderful.”

“Yeah, I love kids.” Finn nodded. “Especially the Dumais and Jules. They’re a hoot.”

“Jules would die if he heard you say that,” Remus laughed. “The hero worship is still going strong with most of you.”

“This one made me laugh when I first read it, but it’s really sweet,” Dorcas informed them. “Anyone else feel like we were deceived these past five years into thinking Cap was this hard-ass man, when in reality he's a cuddle bug who definitely captures and releases spiders instead of squishing them?”

“You weren’t deceived, I was just closeted,” Sirius said. “Also, I absolutely squish spiders.”

Remus gave him a look. “No, you do not. That’s my job. I’m the catch and release person if I can get away with it.”

James shook his head. “The third week of practices you saw a spider and threw me at it.”

“You did what?” Finn asked.

“There was a spider in my stall,” Sirius sighed, looking as if he would rather be anywhere else. “And Pots and I were talking so I didn’t see it until I almost sat on it, and my brain decided the only logical thing to do would be to grab him and shove him toward the spider.”

“That was after you shrieked,” Talker added. “Like, literally shrieked. I’ve never heard anyone make a noise like that.”

“Alright, alright,” Sirius grumbled. “We get it, I don’t like spiders.”

Remus shrugged. “But you are a cuddle bug. They got that part right.”

“We’re in the final two!” Dorcas announced. “This one has some pictures to go with it, so it’s on my phone. Fuck Romeo and Juliet, I want what these bitches have.”

“It’s us!” Leo cooed as the phone made its way down the line. In the upper corner of the screen, the photo appeared—it had been taken in New York, and Logan’s whole face was alight with happiness as Leo and Finn each pressed a kiss to his cheek. The camera caught him mid-laugh, so his eyes were closed and his chin was tucked slightly into Finn’s Strand hoodie.

“That’s my screensaver,” Finn said with a grin, pulling his phone out and turning it toward the camera without moving away from Leo. “One of my favorites.”

“I forgot you took that one,” Logan murmured. He hooked his chin over Leo’s shoulder and kissed his cheek; the four others at the table gave soft are you seeing this? looks to the camera and Dorcas smiled.

“Pots, I think yours is next. I hate to break it to you, Talkie, but they didn’t get any of you and Noelle.”

“We don’t take a ton of pictures together,” Talker said as James took the phone. “I mean, we take a bunch of selfies, but we don’t live close enough to each other to actually post that often. What picture is it, J?”

James was staring down at the picture with an unbearably sweet expression. “It’s our wedding. That’s my favorite one, actually.”

Like Logan, they had been captured while laughing—Lily was bent slightly at the waist as James clapped, his glasses just as askew as the flower crown on her head. It was impossible to tell who had told the joke originally, but they were both radiant in the sunset.

“That’s a really good one,” Sirius said with an unreadable look on his face.

“Well, well, well, fancypants, you two got a video.” James wiggled his eyebrows and Remus leaned in to see.

“What kind of video? One of our tikt—oh. Oh, this is so cute.” He shifted his chair over as the short edit began to play. “D, who made this?”

“A fan.”

“It’s really impressive,” Sirius said without taking his eyes off the screen. The edit was a series of photos, both on and off the ice; Sirius knocking their helmets together, then Remus looking back over his shoulder, then both of them in the water playing chicken in the sun. It was a slideshow of their life and their love.

“Can you send that to me?” Remus asked when it was over. “Cause that’s super cool.”

“Sure thing. Are you guys ready for the last one?” When they all nodded, she drummed her fingers on the posterboard and cleared her throat. “Arthur appreciation hours. He deserves it after managing to control the team.”

A cheer went up—all seven stood and applauded, half-laughing and half-whooping. “Miracle worker!” Sirius called.

“Best coach in the league!” Finn added.

“Most tolerant man to ever walk the earth!” Remus raised his water in a toast and they tapped the plastic edges together, nearly spilling all over the table.

Dorcas’ eyes crinkled in a smile as she turned to the camera. “That’s it for today, Lions! Tune in next time for more content of our boys, and thank you for such wonderful comments!”

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keiichikuzuryuwu · 3 years

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Place Your Bets

Implied (Future) Keiichi Kuzuryuu x Reader

Summary: This is a reimagining of the manga’s version of the Four of Clubs game, featuring a very stubborn, very smart mother hen Y/N instead of a gentle girl.

A/N: I have literally never seen anyone write for Kuzuryuu and that made me sad, because I love him. Also I know very little about how to actually take care of a baby so please be forgiving.

TW: Blood, leg injury, a crying baby

Walking along a deserted street, a man in a hat was making his way toward tonight’s game. Based on his body language, you would think he didn’t want to go, but in honesty, he was tentatively looking forward to it.

“Oh my god, another person!!” The voice of a woman caught his attention, pulling his gaze away from the lights in the distance. As he looked over, he took note of how clean she was, all glow and innocence compared to the world around her- a new arrival, clearly. But what truly surprised him was the fact that she was carrying a sleeping baby in her arms. It was rare to come across a child here, much less a baby. Perhaps it was her’s, which was why she hadn’t abandoned it yet, “You wouldn’t happen to be this baby’s father, would you? Or at the very least have seen anyone who could possibly be their parents?”

So it wasn’t her’s. The man wondered how long it would be until she gave up on it.

“No, sorry. I’m on my way to a game, so if you’ll excuse me,” He tipped his hat and took a step, only to feel his arm grabbed.

“Wait, what game? Should I be heading there too?”

“You… don’t know about the games? Are you new here?” He already knew the answer, but no point in signaling that to her. She may end up a Heart Specialist and get into his head, after all.

“Yes, actually! One moment, I was going to meet up with my friends, and the next, the entirety of Shibuya was powered down and empty except me and this little one here,” So she’d walked all this way from Shibuya in just a few hours? Maybe a Spades Specialist, then.

“Well then you should come with me. We need to get you registered for a game so you don’t end up a day one victim.”

“Woah, what?? Day one victim??” The color drained from her face, before she grabbed his hand and began walking, “What and where is this game? Is it Trivial Pursuit? Because I’m really good at Trivial Pursuit! Wait, but that’s a one winner game and this is looking more and more like the set up for a death game manga but in real life,” She looked back at him, “Did I get stuck in a death game manga but in real life?”

“Um…” He didn’t really know how to respond to this woman. Regaining his wits, he caught up to her brisk pace and pointed in the direction of the lights, “See those lights? That’s where the closest game is. And, yes, you unfortunately did…”

“Brilliant, let’s go,” She still held onto his hand as they walked, confusing the man. They were complete strangers and he’d just told her that she was walking towards her probable death, yet she continued to hold his hand as though they were allies.

Walking up to the glowing tunnel, the man spotted the registration phones on a table, three of them already missing. The already registered participants were scattered nearby, looking at them strangely. Did they perhaps think he, this woman, and the baby were a family? The thought almost flustered him.

“So what do I do?” The woman asked him when they got over to the table, “Just take one of these phones?”

“Yes, here,” Handing her one, he watched as she tapped to turn it on.

“I don’t like the fact that this facial recognition already had me registered with an ID number,” She scoffed, putting the phone in her skirt’s pocket before hesitating, “Wait, do I need to register this baby too? I mean, obviously I’m not gonna abandon it, but… they’re a baby, they can’t really play a game.”

“No, unfortunately they need to be registered… Here,” Picking up another phone, he held it up to the face of the babe, the ping of the completed registration sounding a moment later, “You keep hold of this one too, since you’re holding the baby.”

“Alright, sounds good to me,” Placing the other phone in her pocket, she cooed at the baby, “You better hope this isn’t Trivial Pursuit or I’m gonna have to kick your butt, baby~ That’s right, that’s right~”

“Please don’t taunt the baby like that. It’s… unnerving…” Nervously pulling on his collar, the man was surprised when she just laughed.

“Sorry, I cope with stress by joking around…” She placed a hand on the back of her neck as they walked over to the others, “The only way this baby isn’t surviving is if it’d be better to do a mercy killing. Other than that, I’m fighting tooth and nail to make sure they get through this with me.”

“You for real??” One of the men closest to them, with spiked, pitch dark hair, scoffed, “You really think you can keep a baby alive here? Put yourself first if you wanna live, lady!”

“Come on, don’t say that!” The woman snapped back, before taking a breath and calming down, “Here, how about we start over and introduce ourselves?”

“This could be a Hearts game, or the rules could state we need to kill each other,” The only other woman there, a stark, gothic contrast to the Mori girl aesthetic of the woman with the baby, stated coldly, “I’ll pass.”

“One minute until registration closes,” A calm, female voice suddenly came from all of their phones, startling the woman with the baby.

“Huh?” Taking out her phone, she looked it over, “Guess it speaks too… These are my least favorite part of this nightmare so far,” Then, she took note of the camera app, “Ooh! Hey, wanna take a selfie?”

“You want to… take a selfie with me?” The man she’d arrived with questioned her, utterly befuddled by this woman.

“Yeah, come on! This might be the last chance we ever get to take a good picture!” Moving in close, she held up the phone, making sure to get both them and the still sleeping baby in the shot, “Awesome! Thanks for indulging my possibly last request!”

“You are way too chipper, lady,” A new man spoke as he walked up. Short cropped hair with designs buzzed into it and a mean face, this man screamed gangster. In reaction, the woman held the baby tighter.

“Entry has now closed,” The phones spoke again, “There are a total of seven participants. Please proceed into the tunnel.”

“I just hope it’s not Spades… I’m not very good at physical games…” The man in the hat grumbled, causing the woman to raise an eyebrow as they walked into the tunnel. About 100 feet in, the woman suddenly stopped, “What’s the matter?”

“I hear something…” Straining her ears for a moment, she suddenly looked up at the top of the tunnel’s entrance.

“Wha?! What the hell?!” Just as the words left spiky haired man’s lips, a barrier fell from the ceiling, creating debris and, more importantly, blocking them in.

“UWAAAHHH!!!!” The baby had woken up due to the world shaking from the force of the barrier’s impact with the ground, only for the woman to pull out a pacifier from her purse and stick it in the infant’s mouth.

“Thank goodness I thought to grab that…”

“W-We’re trapped in??” Goth woman shouted, panic taking over, “But that isn’t the standard!!”

“Guess they really don’t want us to be able to choose the coward’s way out this game…” Gangster guy placed his hand on the wall.

“ARGHH!!” Everyone’s attention was directed to the man in the hat, who was sitting on the ground, blood gushing from his leg, “Some rubble… it went into my leg!!”

“On no!!” The woman with the baby was the first to react, rushing over to him, “Hold the baby, we need to wrap this up and restrict the blood flow!”

“O-Okay…!” Carefully, he took the baby, doing his best not to shake as she took an extra baby blanket out of her bag and used it to create a makeshift cotton bandage.

As she worked, their phones chimed again- “The game will now commence. Difficulty: Four of Clubs. Game: Runaway. Rule: Endure the four trials and reach the goal within the time limit. Clear condition: Reach the goal safely.”

“Trials? Goal? What’s it talking about?” The goth woman mumbled.

“It looks like these are the trials it’s referring to…” At a man in glasses words, everyone turned around and saw what he meant.

In the floor, walls, and ceiling were various doors and hatches. The first door was in a wall, marked ‘Trial One,’ with a timer stating the lock released in fifteen minutes. Next to that, several round hatches labeled ‘Trial Two’ were going to release in thirty minutes. Trial Three’s vents in the ceiling were releasing in forty five, and Four’s hatch on the floor was set to release in an hour.

Spiky haired man noticed a placard on the wall by Door One, and walked over to inspect it.

“The distance to the goal is written here… But I can’t read the most important part. Damnit…” Sure enough, where the number should be, instead was worn down metal.

Looking down at the ground somberly, Glasses stated, “A conjecture… ‘Runaway’ means to flee… Something will come out of each of these four doors after a delay. Perhaps it means we should run towards the goal while running away? If the fourth lock opens after an hour, and we were to run for that amount of time, then the distance to the goal is around ten kilometers…”

“Ten??”

“Game… start.”

At that moment, the timers started counting down, and their phones switched to an hour long timer as well.

“Ten kilometers in an hour is cutting it too close! We can’t afford to waste a second!” With that, everyone save the woman with the baby and the man in the hat started running.

“Can you stand?” The woman asked him as she took the baby back, genuinely concerned about this stranger.

“With help, I think I should be able to…”

“Hey, you lot! Care to help a lady out??”

“I make no promises that I’ll hold on to you till the end…” The gangster helped lift the man to allow the woman to continue carrying the baby safely.

“Thank you in the meantime…” The man got out through labored breaths as they walked.

Within the first five minutes, everyone reached a bus covered in graffiti, the first car they had seen since the game began. By the time the man, woman, and gangster got there, it seemed their fellow players had exhausted it.

“There’s nothing here except junk, and it’s not going no matter how hard I hit the gas!!!” Spiky hair complained as glasses looked underneath the bus.

“The belt is cut, that’s why. Looks like this isn’t meant to be our method of transportation…” Getting up, he began running, “Looks like we have to run! We lost time here, so let’s hurry!”

“Gaaah!! I’m at my limit… There’s no way I could run…” The man in the hat groaned, “Don’t worry about me anymore, you all should hurry on ahead…”

“But-!”

“It’s like he says,” Goth woman cut off the other, “The first trial is about to start… In order to survive in these Borderlands, sometimes we have to do callous things. If you don’t learn that quick, you won’t be long for this world,” With that, she began running as well.

For a moment, the man, woman, and gangster didn’t move, until the gangster helped the man over to the first step of the bus and set him down before walking away.

“You too??” The woman angrily called out after him, “You’re going to desert us??”

“I tried helping… But now, things have changed…” He picked up speed, quickly catching up to the others.

“Selfish cowards!!” She yelled, shaking her fist at them. Sighing, she turned to the man, “Guess it’s just you and me, huh?”

“Are you sure? You should go run-”

“Nuh uh. I’ve decided I’m staying here, so I’m staying here,” Scooting around him, the woman gently placed the baby into the dip of the driver’s seat before helping the man up and to a seat so he could prop up his leg, “Let’s see…”

“What are you doing?” He raised an eyebrow as he watched her go up and down the bus.

“In order to slow the flow of blood more until we can get you help, we need to raise your leg. By doing that, the blood will- Here-” She took the baby and handed them to him again before looking around more, “The blood won’t be able to pump up there as fast, and it should give us some wiggle room.”

“You seem awfully knowledgeable about this. Are you perhaps a doctor?”

“Hah, no, I just remember a lot. Picked this up from a medical book I read when I was sixteen for fun. I’m actually a Masters student working towards simultaneous degrees in Psychology and Religion with a focus in cults,” Before the man could comment on how impressive that was, the woman sighed, “I’ve found a Japanese to English dictionary, a space heater, a set of keys that turn on this motionless bus, and a gum wrapper, but nothing to prop up your leg,” Sitting in the chair across the row from him, the woman took the baby back and gently bounced it, “Guess we’ll just have to wait and see what happens…”

“I’m sorry I’ve dragged you down with me…”

“Nonsense!” She waved her hand dismissively, “I’m not much of a runner, and I’ve got this little angel to look after. There’s no way I could run to some mysterious goal even if I wanted to. Besides…” Her eyes shifted back and forth before leaning in and dropping her voice as though they were being watched, “Something about this game is striking me as odd.”

“What do you mean?” The man leaned in as best as he could, voice dropping as well.

“Before I tell you my theory, could you explain what exactly the card level of this game means? You said you hoped this game wasn’t Spades because you weren’t good at physical games, while the woman stated we shouldn’t tell each other our names in case it was a Hearts game. That means the different suits represent different types of games, while the number represents how hard it is, right?”

“You picked that up quickly. Most people don’t realize that their first game, it generally takes someone explaining it to them their second or third game for them to get it,” Thinking for a moment, he nodded, “Very well, since we’re going to be here for at least an hour, I’ll tell you. Yes, the number on the card connotes how hard the game will be, with Ace being the easiest, while King is the hardest. As for the suits- Spades represent physical games, lots of moving around and exertion. Diamond games are intelligence and wit based games, and are the least physically demanding. If you were to find a game of Trivial Pursuit here, it would fall into that suit.”

“I see,” She sounded enraptured.

“Hearts,” He paused, considering his words, “They’re psychological games… They mess with your mind and your morals, and are widely regarded as the most brutal of the four suits. If possible, you do not want to join a Hearts game.”

“And Clubs?”

“Clubs games like this one refer to team battles and a mix of the other’s elements. It’s an unofficial rule that there is always a total win scenario, that it’s possible for all participants to make it out alive.”

“Then that puts us at an advantage!” She nodded decisively, “If Clubs are a team battle, then by sticking together, we have a better chance at survival!”

“But we’re just sitting in a bus?”

“Look mister, I’m trying to remain positive here, so if you could work with me a little?”

“Alright, alright,” The man put his hands up, chuckling. From the sound of it, it was an unfamiliar noise to come from his mouth, “We’re at an advantage because we stuck together while the others are only thinking of themselves.”

“That’s the spirit!” She held out her hand for a fist bump, which the man would have returned, had it not been for the bus suddenly lurching forward, “The hell??”

“UWAAHHH!!!” The motion woke up the baby again, but neither the man or the woman had time to calm them down again, as water was quickly rising around their enclosure and leaking in through some gaps in the windows.

“Oh no, you take Yuuji, I’ll stop the water!” Handing the baby to the man, the woman began to shed layers of clothes, using her jacket, cardigan, tights to plug the gaps. In the end, she was left in just a camisole and her torn up skirt, having even used parts of that to slow the water, “There, that should keep us relatively dry as long as the water goes down soon.”

“You called the child ‘Yuuji,’” The man commented, a bit surprised.

“Huh? I did, didn’t I?” Laughing sheepishly, the woman sat back down, “Don’t know why, they’re not my kid. I don’t even know if they’re male or female.”

“Well, I suppose they do look like a Yuuji,” He looked down at where he was bouncing the slightly calmer baby on his shoulder, “Can I ask why you chose to take this baby with you? You even grabbed their diaper bag.”

“Guess I felt bad about them being abandoned by their parents,” She shrugged, “Something just told me I needed to hold onto them and protect them; which makes no sense, given that it’s not like I grew up with great parental role models.”

“Maybe you just possess a natural maternal instinct, bad parents or not.”

“Who knows? Maybe you’re right.”

For several minutes, neither of them said anything as the man calmed down the baby, lulling them back to sleep.

“It seems as though the water is going down,” The man finally commented, the woman looking out the window to see that they were no longer surrounded.

“Yeah, but now it seems like the temperature is dropping fast!” The woman was right, the air was indeed getting colder, “I’ll go turn on that space heater before Yuuji wakes up again!”

“Sounds good to me.”

With the space heater on, the bus quickly warmed back up, keeping the baby asleep in the man’s arms.

“This cold must be the… how much time has passed?” Looking at her phone’s timer, the woman's brow furrowed, “Forty five minutes?? When the heck did the first trial happen??”

“We must have missed it somehow while we were talking.”

“Weird. Maybe it just passed right by us,” The woman didn’t let it bother her too much, just grateful to have not had to deal with it. Silence passed for a few more minutes as the woman held the baby, before she spoke again, “Okay, something’s been on my mind for the last half an hour, and I gotta know before we die… You were totally faking your personality when we got here, right?”

“H-Huh??” The man’s eyes widened, and he could feel his pulse quicken.

“Acting timid and stuff. Fake, right?”

“I… I…” Sighing, he looked her in the eyes, “How’d you know?”

“I sorta guessed around the time you told me about the suits. Your speech pattern started getting more eloquent, your sentences became longer, and you didn’t bat an eye at the fact that I’m working towards two Masters degrees at the same time. That last thing doesn’t really have to do with the timid thing, but it did tell me that you’re smarter than you seemed. That accident with your leg was very real, something you didn’t account for that truly did leave you near helpless; but before that, it was all strategy so we’d underestimate you in case this turned out to be a single winner game.”

“That’s… phenomenally impressive,” He stared at her in awe, “Why didn’t you say anything sooner?”

“Because I’ve been having fun talking with you and didn’t want to make it awkward,” Laughing, she shrugged, “But my natural curiosity got the better of me. I want to die with as few regrets as possible, and I’d regret not getting to see your actual personality,” Tears welled up in her eyes, and she kissed the top of the baby’s head, “I hope however this ends is clean and painless. I doubt it would happen, but if my family were to ever find my body, I wouldn’t want their last image of me to be tainted by something like decapitation, y’know?”

“Yes, I… I understand,” Moving closer, the man took the woman’s hand and squeezed it gently, “I promise you, if we survive this, I’ll do whatever I can to help you survive long enough to reunite with your family.”

“Aww, thanks,” She smiled sadly at him, “That means a lot. You’re a really nice guy, even if you are a crafty strategist.”

“I-”

KABOOM!!!!

An explosion violently shook the bus, causing the baby to once again wake up and cry.

“Quickly, on the ground!” The man pulled the woman and baby into his arms and got on the ground, shielding them with his body as the bus continued to shake. It seemed to go on forever, the shaking, as the bus grew warmer and warmer, far warmer than the heat the space heater would have been able to produce. But, finally, the shaking did stop, and the world became quiet outside of the baby’s cries, “Are you two alright?”

“Y-Yeah, I think so,” After she was helped up by the man, the woman grabbed the baby’s pacifier and returned it to their mouth, “That was the fourth trial, right?”

“I believe so,” He nodded, looking out the window, “All I can see are scorch marks, so I can’t tell, though.”

A little fanfare like tune emitting from their phones answered them, however.

“Game clear. Congratulations! To the survivors of the game, we will now supply you with a Visa.”

“G-Game clear?” The woman’s eyes widened in surprise, “You mean… we won? But that would mean…” Handing the baby to the man, she threw open the door to the bus and hopped out, running around the bus, almost immediately spotting the confirmation she sought, “The goal… It was the bus…”

“It was the bus??” The man limped out of the bus, handing the woman the baby due to feeling shaky as he saw what she’d found, “The graffiti… G-O-A-L… Dear lord…”

“Your injury saved us,” Tears flowed down the woman’s cheeks as she suddenly hugged the man, laughing almost manically, “It saved us! I don’t normally believe in luck, but tonight I think I’ll make an exception!”

“I can’t believe it, though! You were right!” The man laughed as well, “We stuck together as a team instead of only thinking of ourselves, and we survived!”

“Wait- oh no!” Pulling away, the woman frowned, “Those poor people that ran on ahead!! They… If the trials didn’t kill them, then… what did?”

“Anyone who breaks a rule like leaving an arena before the game is over or doesn’t achieve game clear… They’re struck down by a laser from the sky…” His words cause the woman to gasp, a hand covering her mouth, “I hope for their sake, their deaths were as clean and painless as the one you had wished for…”

Taking his hand, she squeezed it gently, “I’ll carry their memories with me, and push forward. As ill as they treated us, I can only hope that wherever they are, they find peace.”

“You’re an incredibly kind woman, Miss…?”

“Oh wow, we never did introduce ourselves, huh? If we’re gonna be sticking together, we should probably at least know the other’s name,” Wiping away her tears, she laughed, “My name is Y/N L/N, Y/A years old, Masters student, and guardian of this little angel until further notice. It’s nice to meet you, Mister…?”

“Kuzuryuu. Keiichi Kuzuryuu, 37 years old, attorney at law, and Diamond Specialist here in the Borderlands. It’s a pleasure to meet you as well, Miss L/N.”

“Please, we just nearly died together! You can call me Y/N. Mind if I call you Kuzu?” She looked at him so hopefully that he couldn’t find it in himself to refuse her.

“Alright, you may call me ‘Kuzu’… Y/N.”

“Excellent! Now let’s get out of this place! I’m tired and we need to get you off that leg.”

“I believe I saw a furniture store near here that we could use as shelter before finding something better tomorrow,” He offered as she helped him limp out of the tunnel, the barrier to the outside having been blown off in the explosion.

“Perfect, let’s go there. There’s some supplies to take care of Yuuji in this diaper bag I grabbed, but we’ll need to find some more tomorrow as well.”

“Sounds good to me.”

An hour later, as Y/N and Yuuji slept soundly in one of the spacious beds on display in the furniture store, Kuzuryuu stood outside and pulled out a walkie talkie.

“HQ, please respond. This is Four of Club’s observer, Kuzuryuu,” Taking off his hat, he pushed back his hair and slipped on his glasses, “Surviving players- two of six. Dispatch the cleanup squad to deal with the disposal of tools and materials.”

“Copy that, sir. Anything else?”

“Yes… Tell the others I won’t be back for a while,” He looked back through the doors to where Y/N and Yuuji slept, a small smile on his lips, “I have a player I’d like to place my bets on.”

Y/N L/N

Clubs Specialist

End of Day One of Sojourn

#alice in borderland x reader #aib x reader #kuzuryuu keiichi #keiichi kuzuryu x reader #alice in borderland #aib #imawa no kuni no arisu #fanfic #headcanon #scenario #aib scenarios

78 notes · View notes

titan-fodder · 3 years

Text

Prima Vista Part III

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Rating: E (explicit; mdni) Pairing: Mike Zacharias x fem!reader

Warnings: a lot of feelings, handcuffs, testosterone, quite a bit of sex, one surprise kiss (cause Erwin is a privileged dick), parents, domesticity A/N: I apparently did not write an author’s note for this originally, but uh, this is one of my favorite sections of the whole fic, so.

Mike uses the rest of the break to relax, to get his head on straight so that when he gets back on campus he won’t be overbearing. He knows that’s the last thing you want from him.

You text back and forth a few times a day, but most of it is dumb shit, and the conversation dies off pretty quickly—either Mike not knowing how to respond or you just growing bored.

He busies himself by spending time with his parents and playing with Scout who eats up all the attention. Family comes over for Christmas, and his mom and aunt get into an argument. It’s nothing new.

He’s happy to get back to the school and back in classes just to stimulate his brain. More than that, he’s happy to see you again. Even if it means the two of you go back to friend-only status.

Things are awkward between him and Erwin, though. It isn’t the first time they’ve had a hiccup in their friendship, but this one has really rubbed Mike the wrong way. Erwin tries to apologize a few more times, but every time he does, all Mike can manage is an unconvincing, “It’s fine,” which the other man obviously doesn’t buy.

He tries not to be possessive when you start coming to the house again, but it’s fucking hard whenever he has to watch you and Erwin talk and joke around. Mike figured you’d be at least a little annoyed that he’d just walked in on the two of you like that, but you act like it never happened.

Eventually, Mike has to ask about it, just can’t help himself. “Aren’t you, like, even a little mad that he did that? Don’t you think it was fucked up?”

You’re sitting on Mike’s bed, a controller in your hand as you play Mario Kart, sound a little distracted when you respond, “I mean, yeah, it was fucked up, but I never really expected anything more from him.”

“What do you mean?”

You look at him from the corner of your eyes before staring at the screen again. “Erwin is a cocky motherfucker. I’ve seen the way he gets the girls on campus, probably thinks he can charm all of them which means he probably thinks he’s entitled to all of them. Us.”

“Are you calling him a predator?”

You shrug your shoulders. “I don’t think he’d ever, like, rape anyone. He at least has enough class and common sense not to do that. But I think… He doesn’t care who he goes after. Single girls, girls in relationships, happy girls, damaged girls. He just has a one track mind when it comes to sex. That’s what I’ve gathered anyway.”

Laying back on his bed, Mike laces his fingers behind his head and thinks on what you’ve said. “That just sounds like a drawn out way of saying he’s a flirt.”

“A massive flirt. Without any real care about whose feelings he hurts in the process.”

“Sounds about right.”

“I don’t appreciate it,” you sigh, “But he’s your best friend, so I’m willing to put up with some shit from him.”

“Even him perving on you?”

“Not the first time it’s happened to me, probably won’t be the last. He’s curious, I can tell.”

Mike snorts and rolls his eyes. “Yeah, he is.”

You stay quiet for several seconds, toggling over to another track on the game, then ask, “That make you uncomfortable?”

Blinking up at the ceiling, Mike wonders what the right answer to this is. He doesn’t want to scare you away, but he doubts he’ll be able to act as aloof as you do.

“A little.”

You hum, nodding in a thoughtful manner before suggesting, “I think we can keep hooking up through this semester.”

Mike sits up on his elbow, looks at you with high eyebrows. “Wait, really?” He sounds too excited, he knows.

“Yeah. I have mostly easy classes, or really, I have interesting ones which makes studying for them easier. Plus, it might teach Erwin a lesson.”

He falls back flat, scoffing. “I don’t want you to fuck me to prove a point to Erwin. I want you to fuck me because you want to.”

The game music stops when you pause it, and then you’re straddling Mike, hands on his chest as you smirk at him.

“Don’t let this go to your head, Zacharias, but no one has ever fucked me the way you do.”

Mike tries not to grin, triumph blooming inside of him, and he grips your hips a little too tightly. “Oh, that’s definitely going to my head.”

You grind your covered pussy over his denim-clad cock, and Mike feels all his blood flow south.

Laughing, you lean down to ghost your lips over his and murmur, “Both heads, apparently.”

That day, the two of you start a routine that leaves Mike falling harder and harder with every passing day.

“Come on, please just be my date,” Mike begs, thinks about getting to his knees if it’ll help convince you.

“Why?” You ask, looking up from your textbook.

You and Mike are sitting in the library—you studying, him bothering you. “I’m honestly so tired of parties at this point.

“It’s not like the big parties we throw, though,” he tells you. “It’s just the brothers and their girlfriends.”

“That makes it even worse,” you push one little laugh through your nose. “What makes you think I wanna spend an entire night with a bunch of frat boys and their matching sorority girls?”

Mike rolls his eyes. “They’re not all sorority girls, just like, eighty-five percent of them.”

Your head lolls, an expression that reads nothing but apathy aimed at Mike, and he gives you a hopeful smile and adds, “On the bright side, we get to stay together all night…?”

“Oh god, it's a cuff party, isn't it?"

All he can do at this point is beg because the more he explains it, the more he realizes how not appealing this is to you. “Please.”

Sitting back in your chair, you cross your arms over your chest and puff your cheeks out as you exhale heavily. “What’s in it for me?”

Fuck yes. Half the battle is won.

“Uhh,” obviously sex is the first thing that comes to Mike’s mind, so the first offer he makes is, “I’ll go down on you ‘til you cry.”

You snort. “Try again.”

“Fuck you ‘til you pass out?”

“Jesus—why do you want to hurt me? Try again. Third time’s a charm.”

Mike brainstorms for a solid thirty seconds, thinks about what you’ve mentioned to him over the past couple of weeks, sex and school and—

“I’ll help you study for your geochemistry exam.”

You finally look interested. “I’d actually really appreciate that. You took the course?”

“Yeah, environmental geochemistry was sort of my jam last year. Final grade was a ninety-seven.”

“Holy shit.”

Mike shoots you a satisfied smile, but before you can tell him to wipe it from his face, he asks, “So, you’re in?”

“I guess.”

This is how you both end up in the frat house handcuffed together. No one seems to be surprised at the fact that you’ve come with him, all the brothers used to you hanging around the frat house.

Most couples are walking around holding hands just because it takes some of the pressure off of everyone's wrists, but Mike doesn't dare try it with you. Too cute. Too comfortable.

These types of get togethers are Mike's favorite, though, always more relaxed than the open parties. There’s still drinking and music, but the energy is different since it’s a tighter knit group.

It takes about an hour for Erwin and his date to approach the two of you, fingers laced together, drinks in their free hands.

“Looking good,” Erwin greets with a smile. "Very… trapped."

“Yeah, you too,” Mike says, trying to ignore the subtext of Erwin's comment.

Blue eyes flick to you, and you’re questioned, “How’d he end up talking you into this?”

You don’t miss a beat as you reply cooly, “Bribed me with sex and study help.”

“Ah, of course he did.”

Mike’s eyes narrow, but he doesn’t say anything, just reaches his pinky out to link with yours, a subtle claim. When you rest your head on his arm, he looks down at you and smirks.

“Anyway,” Erwin pushes on. “You remember Maddie, don’t you?”

Mike lies, “Yeah. How are you?”

The girl’s voice reminds him of who she is, “Well. How are you, Mike?” It’s a little high pitched and nasally with a northern accent. He especially remembers what she sounded like moaning for Erwin through the wall, obnoxious but Mike can’t really judge since he’s subjected the rest of the house to the same thing once or twice (or a dozen times) before.

“Glad to hear it.”

The group stands together for a few more awkward seconds before Erwin clears his throat and asks his date, “Another drink?” then makes his exit.

“You have got to get over this grudge, dude,” you take your head from his shoulder, and Mike immediately misses the warmth. “Like, it’s cute that you’re trying to defend my honor or whatever, but it’s time to move on. You guys are friends. Just talk it out.”

He sucks his teeth, almost tells you about the way he and Erwin had nearly thrown punches at the ranch house, the way the blond had basically admitted to wanting to try you out, but Mike decides against it, doesn’t want to talk too much shit only to end up making up with him.

“Guys don’t really talk it out. We usually fight it out.”

“That’s fucking primitive. You should learn to communicate like mature humans.”

“Probably,” Mike hums. “But not right now.”

Being connected to each other means every activity is a partner activity. The most interesting is playing beer pong against Nile and his on-again off-again girlfriend, Marie, house rule for the night being whoever is throwing has to use their cuffed hand. It’s like a twisted three-legged race and requires an amount of teamwork and coordination Mike has never had to deal with before.

It’s also the first time he manages to beat Nile. Mike had no doubt that the other man would have crushed you by himself, but it turns out the actual couple does not work together very well. All their shots are clumsy, and Nile gets frustrated right off the bat which only makes things worse. Meanwhile, you and Mike come up with a strategy after the first terrible throw and use it for the rest of the game.

You’re both challenged by a few other teams and end up winning every time which has Mike feeling smug about the victories and giddy at how in-tune the two of you are. Gelgar even tells you both, “You guys are good together,” which makes Mike cough as you wave him off.

You drink a little more, converse a little more, and then—as always—end up in Mike’s bedroom.

“You want me to get the key and take these off?” He asks between kisses.

You smile into him, let out a little laugh and play, “You don’t think it’d be kinda fun to fuck with ‘em on?”

“It’ll be harder,” Mike snorts. “But, we can. Won’t be able to take shirts off, though.”

“Good thing we just need to take our pants off.”

It’s clumsy and silly, and you both tug in opposite directions more than a few times. Mike laces his fingers with yours when he goes down on you, relishing in the way you arch off his bed and squeeze his hand. On the floor, you give him head in the same fashion, and fuck, Mike can hardly focus on you sucking him off while your fingers are woven together, even if it is just for the sake of convenience.

He fucks you from behind that night, your face buried in his pillow as he’s buried in you. Both of your arms are stretched behind your back, held at the wrists by Mike’s much, much larger hand. He uses his free one to grip your hip, pushing and pulling you on his cock to his heart’s desire.

You’re so pretty, damp with sweat and moaning his name when your head is turned only to shove it back into his pillow when he makes you scream. Your dripping cunt opens up for him perfectly, making Mike feel more inebriated than alcohol ever could, but as his balls tighten and that warmth spreads in his gut, he has a single moment of clarity, assess the position he has you in and pants, “Shit, I can’t pull out.” Not without ripping your god damn arm out of socket or fracturing his dick.

“Mmm—fuck, just come inside, come inside me, Mike.”

That alone makes him lose it, shooting a fucking copious amount of cum into your pussy, so much that it drips from your hole and runs down your thighs.

“Fucking C-Christ,” he laughs a little hysterically, gathering thick white and slipping it back inside you. Transfixed by the way his added finger pushes more of his cum out of you, he asks in a daze, “You on birth control?”

“Yeah,” you answer in a breathy voice.

Mike hums. “Good. Just gonna sit here for a while then.”

You let out a whimper that turns to a whine when he rubs his slick finger over your clit. Twitching around him, you tease, “F-finger painting again?”

He chuckles, “You know it.”

Honestly, if he could cover you in cum, he would—admire your body painted in white strings, watch it drip down your ribs and thighs. If Mike hadn’t just gotten off, he would be hard again at the mere thought, but for now his focus is rubbing your little clit. Still face down, you spread your legs more and more, and Mike has to curl over you, breathing heavily on your neck as you wriggle and buck, overstimulating him as he keeps his cock nestled inside of you.

He groans just as loud as you do as you start pulsing around him, pussy clenching in a way that actually pulls a few more drops of cum from Mike, then you both pant for a little while until Mike straightens up and pulls you with him, your back to his chest as you hang your head.

“You good?” He questions, brushing his lips over your neck as lightly as possible.

“Yeah,” you tell him. “Just… Full.”

Mike’s body heats all over again as he rests his forehead on your uppermost vertebrae. “Can’t just say stuff like that,” he warns, sinking his teeth into your shoulder.

“Hmm.” He can see the little smile on your face without even looking up. “You did offer to fuck me until I pass out.”

“I have a refractory period, you know.”

You glance over your shoulder, and now Mike gets a good look at your smirk and twinkling eyes. “I can wait.”

Both of you emerge from the room in the early hours of the morning, still stuck together as you quietly make your way downstairs to find the key to the handcuffs. You’re wearing a pair of Mike’s gym shorts, the mesh falling far past your knees and barely staying up around your waist. He knows you’re still messy and can tell by the way you’re walking that you’re sore, but he has every intention of cleaning you up and taking care of all your aches and pains in the shower.

It’s party after god damn party with classes and studying and fucking in between. You have never had this much sex in your life, but you’re not complaining. It takes the edge off, and Mike isn’t the worst company. Far from it, actually. The more you get to know him, the more he falls into what you think is his real personality.

The brash frat boy is a front, you come to find out, a mask to fit in with everyone else, one he wears very well.

But, when it’s just the two of you in his room playing video games or watching TV, he actually relaxes, gets quieter and much more reflective. The pastels and khakis and Hawaiian shirts stay hung up in his closet, both of you lounging in t-shirts and joggers more often than not.

He more or less tutors you in geochemistry, and between that and all the nerd shit in his room, you realize… Mike is kind of extremely smart. And, it’s kind of extremely hot.

“I still don’t understand why you hide it,” you tell him one afternoon as you watch him play Ocarina of Time.

He shrugs, green eyes wide and focused on the screen, gives you the same answer he did last semester when you’d asked a similar question: “People are more interested in other things.”

“So you adopted the obnoxious frat boy persona?”

“I guess. It makes the college experience a lot easier.”

You cock your head to the side, genuinely curious when you ask, “Doesn’t it wear you out? Seems like you’re just an introvert in hiding.”

Mike laughs, pauses the game, and looks at you. “It used to. Some days it still does. But, it’s easier than taking shit from the guys.”

Squinting at him, you mumble, “I will beat up anyone who gives you shit about being a nerd.”

It makes him laugh. Loudly. And, you see a certain curiosity glimmering in his eyes, unasked questions—probably something along the lines of when you started caring and getting protective over him.

You’re not. Not exactly. You just don’t like the idea of anyone giving him a hard time.

“No offense, babe, but I don’t know how much damage you could inflict on anyone. You’re, like, two feet tall.”

You straighten up, chest puffing up as you pull your fists up to your chin and rock back and forth like a Street Fighter character. “You wanna fuckin’ go, Zacharias? I’ll show you how much damage I can inflict.”

He grins in that boyish way that always makes you look away. It’s too cute and too charming and makes you feel too many things.

Mike hangs his long legs over the side of the bed and pulls you on top of him with no problem whatsoever. You’re eye level with him now, heart beating too fast as you hold his shoulders, eyes flicking to his lips.

“We can go if you want. We can do whatever you want.”

He has feelings for you. You know he does, can see it in his eyes, can feel it in the way he fucks you, and you really should cut things off, but… You don’t want to. He’s the most tolerable person you’ve met on campus, much less annoying than Hitch. You have things in common and joke around until you’re both rolling in laughter. And, of course, the sex is incredible.

It’s just casual, you keep telling yourself. Mike is smart enough not to push things. He knows better, knows you’ll just turn him down, and though it’s hard to admit, that wouldn’t just hurt him; it’d hurt you too.

In his lap now, you don’t encourage him to take things further, mostly because you’re still sore from the night before, and he understands that. Instead, you lock your arms around his neck and change the subject to something that’s still bothering you even after several weeks.

“Have you and Erwin made up yet?”

Mike makes a face, answers, “Not exactly.”

“The hell does that mean?”

“It means we’re talking a little more, but it’s always short conversations and the problem still hasn’t been addressed.”

You let out a little, “Ugh,” then state, “You guys are impossible.”

It really doesn’t make sense that he’s so upset about it, especially since you’ve gotten over it. It was a shitty thing for Erwin to do—walking in like that—but you don’t think it’s anything to end a friendship over.

And, with that thought in mind, you spend the rest of the afternoon devising a plan. It’s not in your nature to meddle, but it seems, in this case, you’re gonna have to.

Mike is in his fancy ecology class when you walk into the Pike house, nodding at everyone in the den as you step further inside. You learned a few months ago that it’s much safer to keep your shoes on, less jarring to step on a sticky floor the first years didn’t do a good job cleaning.

Nile is reclining sideways on the couch with Marie between his legs, an action movie playing on the ridiculously big TV mounted on the wall.

“Is Erwin here?” You ask.

Nile looks at you with a frown, one that’s completely warranted since you’ve literally never asked this before.

“Uh, yeah.” He points up at the ceiling. “In his room.”

“Cool, thanks.”

“You know which one it is?”

Squeezing one eye shut, you’re honest when you tell him, “I think so.”

The way Marie is quick to pipe up, “Second furthest to the left, right next to the bathroom,” is very amusing, especially when Nile clicks his tongue, clearly irritated.

You make your way upstairs, following Marie’s directions, then take a deep breath before knocking on Erwin’s door, clueless as to what his lock code might be.

It takes a few seconds, but the door opens, revealing a very tired-looking Erwin. His eyes widen a bit when he sees you, craning his neck back like he’s shocked that you’re standing outside of his room. That’s fair.

“Uh, hey?”

“Hey,” you greet shortly. “Can we talk for a sec?”

Erwin blinks a few times then steps to the side, murmuring, “Yeah, of course.”

His space is very different from Mike’s, more organized, framed pictures, bed completely made. Even his desk is clean, papers and books all stacked neatly on one side of his open laptop.

“Studying?” You question.

“Yeah. Would you like to sit down?” His voice is deep—not as deep as Mike’s—and always so proper, like he spent his childhood in country clubs (he did).

“Not really,” you answer without any hesitation.

Unsurprisingly, Erwin leans against his desk instead of taking a seat himself, arms on either side, fingers hanging off the edge of the polished wood. It makes the muscles in his forearms become more prominent, veins popping against his skin. You have to give it to him, it’s a good move.

“So, what’s going on?”

Running your tongue over your teeth, you recall what you planned to say—cut to the chase, stay firm, don’t get caught up in any of his tricks.

“You need to make up with Mike.”

Erwin immediately snorts. “You don’t think I’ve tried?”

“Half-assed apologies aren’t gonna work, dude. Actually sit down with him and hash things out.”

“Yeeeah,” he drawls. “That didn’t work very well the first time.”

“Maybe try again? You guys are, like, best friends.”

“Levi is my best friend,” Erwin corrects, “And, I’m pretty sure that you’re Mike’s at this point.”

“Don’t say that.”

“It’s true,” he smirks.

You wave him off, getting back to your original point. “At the very least, you guys should make up just because you have to live in the same house.”

Erwin crosses his arms over his chest, blue eyes deviating upward as if he’s thinking hard. You doubt he is.

“So, you’re not mad about what happened?” He asks after a few seconds.

You're blunt when you respond, “It was a shitty thing to do. Wouldn’t advise trying it with anyone else, but honestly, I’m not super surprised you’d pull something like that.”

His facial expression turns to one of true offense, blond eyebrows furrowing enough for a little wrinkle to form between them. “Excuse me?”

You take a step toward him, almost jab a finger in his chest but resist. “No no no. You don’t get to be pissed. You’re the one who fucked up here. I’m just telling you the truth.”

Eyes narrowing, he pushes himself off the desk, standing to his full height to loom over you. It’s obviously an intimidation tactic, one he’s probably used before on many people, and it makes your blood boil.

In a futile attempt to make yourself look bigger, you straighten your spine and tilt your head to look up at him, lips pursed, eyes narrow. You remember what Mike said about you being too small to hurt anyone, but you can be scrappy. You’re not above slapping a face or kneeing someone in the balls.

Erwin peers down at you, jaw setting for a moment as he really studies you, then breaks into an infuriating smile.

“You’re cute, you know that?” He moves to tuck a strand of hair behind your ear, but you swat his hand away.

“Jesus, what is wrong with you?”

This close to him, seeing the way he acts behind closed doors, you wonder how Mike ever even got close with him. They’re so incredibly different. For the last semester and a half, you've only known Erwin as Mike's somewhat obnoxious, spoiled friend. Now, it seems he's showing his true colors.

“Nothing’s wrong. In fact, I’m feeling pretty great right now.”

Oh, you wanna hit him. You wanna hit him so badly, but honestly, Erwin kind of seems like the type to call the fucking police if you did.

“You don’t have any reason whatsoever to be feeling good.”

He’s still grinning, eyes bright and wide as his pupils dilate.

Are you calling him a predator?

He sure looks like one now, a lion with his sights set on an antelope, and as you stare at him, it dawns on you that this was a bad idea.

“You know what? Nevermind,” you shake your head. “You don’t deserve to be Mike’s friend anyway.”

The laugh that pours from his lips is not at all humorous. His voice drops when he challenges, “You think so?”

You need to leave, need to get out of here before this argument goes any further, but as you make a move toward the closed door, he slides in front of you. You shouldn’t have walked so far into his room.

“Erwin,” you grit through your teeth. “Don’t do this.”

“Just tell me—because I need to know—” he breathes, still staring down at you with that unnerving gaze. “What does Mike have that you like so much?”

Both your hands flex by your sides. There are so many ways to answer this question, all of which will evoke a different response.

But being who you are, you speak before you think, spitting the first thing that comes to mind: "You want me to make you a list, Smith? 'Cause I sure fucking can."

He makes a little circle with his hand, a 'go on' motion, and prompts, "Please, enlighten me."

And, so you do.

"Warmth, sincerity, class, depth, understanding—"

"So, it isn't just about the sex," he cuts you off, sounding more sure than curious.

You pinch the bridge of your nose, tired of these god damn frat boys and their obsession with getting their dicks wet.

"I mean, it started out that way—not that it's any of your business."

"I can give you more, you know. Satisfy you better—"

"Please shut the fuck up," you beg, getting madder by the second. The confidence, the entitlement, is making you sick.

"You don't believe me?" He steps toward you again, and you back up.

"No, I don't." Because how could he? Whether it's stimulating conversation or sex, there's no way Erwin could compare.

And now you realize just how much you appreciate Mike.

Erwin is closing the distance between you, moving slowly but purposefully. "This is how it started with you and him, right? You made him chase you?"

"Get out of my way," you demand, trying to shoulder past him—

And, you should have seen it coming, should have been prepared for the way he grabs you, strong hand closing around your upper arm to pull you to his body. Thick fingers tangle in your hair to pull your head back, face tilted up, and all you can really do is shove at his chest with your free hand, growling in your throat as Erwin crushes his lips against yours.

Adrenaline courses through your body. You try to shake the hand on your head, try to jerk your arm from his grip, but he's too fucking strong, and it terrifies you.

Your voice is muffled as you plead, "Er—mmf—shtp—"

You lift your hand higher and manage to hit him just beside his eye with the side of your palm, and it makes him break the "kiss" (you refuse to actually call it that).

He breathes a heavy, "Just let me—"

"No." You push his chest again, and he lets go of your arm. Quickly wiping your mouth with the back of your hand, you tell him, "You're a shitty friend and a little fucked in the head, but you're not low enough to force yourself on someone," you pant, shaking with nerves and rage, "So don't."

Hopefully, you're not giving him too much credit. Despite the overflowing fury and fear, you still think there's a little hope for him. Not with you, of course, just in general.

He stares at you, expression changing from confusion to understanding to regret, and before you know it, he's scrubbing his hands down his face and muttering, "Fuck, I'm sorry. You're right I—I got carried away. I've been jealous of Mike and curious and—"

"Why?" You blurt because you do not get it. "Both of you are, like, top athletes and in a fraternity, could get literally anyone you wanted, so what is it? Is it because I'm a nobody? Because you're bored of the sorority girls? Am I the one chick on your list you haven't screwed?"

"I… I don't know. You just—"

"Is it because Mike has a toy he doesn't wanna share?"

"Maybe." Erwin is frowning again, like he's stumped. He doesn't even know what he's feeling. It's honestly a little pathetic.

"Well, pick someone else. I know you have Maddie wrapped around your finger, so take advantage of that or whatever. Just leave me out of it."

Ocean eyes are wide and troubled. He really does look remorseful, but that doesn't change what he just fucking did. God, you're disgusted. And a little hurt.

"Don't ever try that shit on me again—or anyone else—'cause I swear to God, I will break your fucking nose."

"Yeah, okay," he nods.

You go to walk past him again, voice loud and unforgiving when you tell him, "Move," and then you're out of his room, slamming the door, and getting as far from Pike house as possible.

That did not go the way you had planned it to, but you should have been ready for the worst case scenario. That's on you, you guess.

Because Erwin Smith may not be a predator by definition, but he's certainly something—something you want to stay away from.

"Why are you acting weird?" Mike's voice pulls you from your empty head, and you take your eyes off the loose string of your hoodie—his hoodie—and look up at him.

"What are you talking about? 'm not acting weird."

He moves from his place at the edge of his bed and crawls to prop himself up next to you on his pillows.

"Uh, yeah you are. Have been for the past week or so."

He isn't wrong. You've kept to yourself a little more since your "conversation" with Erwin. It had just been so uncomfortable and jarring, and you don't want to tell Mike because you know he'll just get pissed all over again which would be very annoying since he and Erwin finally made up. Just like you wanted them to.

Except now you know Erwin a little better, and you're not sure you want him having any more influence over Mike.

Rubbing your face, you shrug and easily lie, "I've just been tired."

And, of course, Mike is too smart for that.

"Tired? That's the go-to answer for anyone who actually feels shitty."

"I mean, yeah, but I'm actually tired in this case." It isn't a complete lie considering how fucking late he kept you up last night.

Mike hums. "Wanna take a nap before the party?"

The acid in your stomach churns. The party. The one you do not have any desire to go to. The one that will push you over the ledge of annoyance and into the realm of genuine discomfort. You don't want to go. You don't want to hang out. You don't want to see Erwin.

Sliding your legs under the covers, you lay down in Mike's bed, turning on your side so that your back is facing him. You've told him on numerous occasions that you don't have any interest in certain events, but he always talks you into going to them anyway. So, what'll be different this time? You're just gonna end up downstairs huddled in a corner refusing to drink as your eyes scan over everyone, ready to make a quick exit if you have to.

Mike settles in closer behind you, the heat of his chest pouring across your back, and you can feel the pillow dip when he rests his head on it. He waits for a while before letting his arm fall over your waist. It makes you squeeze your eyes shut, makes something crawl into your throat, trying to scratch its way out.

"I really don't wanna go tonight," you murmur.

You expect some form of protest, a convincing argument in the form of a well thought out fucking speech while he kisses down the back of your neck, but instead, a low rumble of, "Okay," spills from his mouth, and you hate how it makes you feel—how grateful you are for him.

He's getting to know you. Has gotten to know you after spending so much time together. He can read your ups and downs now, can tell when you're joking or serious, take the hint when you want him with a single look (that one might be the most irritating), but it just goes to show how perceptive he is, how much of himself he's been hiding while in college.

The shallow jock you thought you knew is no comparison for this.

"Spring break's coming up," he speaks into your hair, inhaling deeply and whispering to himself, "Citrus kills me," like you can't hear him.

You pretend not to because it's soft and personal and would probably make him adorably self-conscious, and you can't deal with Mike blushing.

"Yeah, it is. Couple more weeks."

"What're your plans?"

You shrug against him, trying not to get too wrapped up in the way his body feels over yours, longer legs tangling between yours, his draped hand nearly covering your entire stomach, his stubble scratching your neck and cheek.

When did you get this close? When did you decide it was okay to be this intimate? This is what couples do. This is comfort.

And, you didn't think you needed it, but fuck—

"Nothing, really. Go see Mom, I guess."

"Come stay with me," he says quickly. "Just for a few days."

You wriggle to turn on your back and frown up at him as a myriad of questions fill your mind.

Mike takes a deep breath, somehow reading every one of them.

"I know that sounds like a 'come meet my parents' thing, but I promise it's not. I just thought it'd be cool to hang out not at school and not at a party. Plus," he shows a broad grin. "You can meet Scout."

"Mm, tempting," you laugh. "I do like dogs."

"And, you'll love her! She's so sweet and so goofy and—"

"I'll think about it," you stop him.

Mike bites his lip, looking hopeful, but tries to play it off with a, "Okay, cool," then leans down to kiss you as if you've already said yes.

Honestly, you have, just not out loud. He had you at 'hanging out'.

Studying sucks. Midterms suck. Avoiding parties, however, does not suck. Mike still goes to most of them, kind of has to considering they're usually thrown at the PKA house, but sometimes he just shows his face then comes to your dorm. You try to convince him to stay, hang out with his friends, but he usually just shrugs and digs through your stash of movies until he finds something he wants to watch.

It's fine with you, makes passing geochem a lot fucking easier, but it also means little sleep and a perpetual soreness between your legs.

You just… Can't get enough of each other. And, you think that's how it's always been since that first party. Afterward, you had denied him in the courtyard and then broke as soon as he got into your room to get his stupid shirt. Denied him at the bar then broke as soon as he leaned over you at the pool table. Denied him at the after-game party and broke after… Seeing his room? Watching movies? Acting like friends for the first time? Whatever it is, you're always falling into bed together, some kind of unstoppable force against your obviously very movable object.

It's something you think about too much now, always somewhere in the back of your head. At this point, you should probably just be with him, don't know who you're kidding with that lie about focusing on school (your grades have never been better actually), but you're scared. That's really what's been hard to admit to yourself, not the fact that you're attracted to him or the fact that your irritation has bloomed into genuine fondness and admiration. It's that's you're fucking terrified. You can feel it in your bones.

Don't get too attached because people leave. All the time. People let you down. People disappoint.

You don't want Mike to disappoint you, so you won't give him the chance to.

Of course, all of that is easier said than done as you look over at him in the Wrangler, one huge hand pn the wheel as his other arm hangs out of the open window, catching the wind that batters against it like he's trying to push back. You hate it when he does that, too many horror stories of car crashes that end in traumatic amputations, but it's one of Mike's strange simple pleasures, makes him grin as if it's his head hanging out instead. At his core, Mike Zacharias is just a huge fucking puppy dog.

A dubstep song from too long ago is blasting through his speakers, the vibrations hitting you square in the chest as you bounce your leg and bob your head. It's beautiful outside, winter's bite melting away into sunny springtime days. Some of them still bring a chill to the air, but it doesn't matter since you basically live in one of Mike's hoodies, dark green with the school's lacrosse logo stamped in the middle. It's faded and worn out and far too big on you, but it's quite possibly the most comfortable article of clothing you've acquired.

The drive to his parents' house is a good three hours, but between the playlist he's made (stellar, not that you'd admit it), the road games you play, and the road head you give him ("Oh, Jesus Christ, this isn't safe—this isn't safe—fuck—") you make it there in one piece and in good spirits, though you have take a few drinks of the soda you got at the convenience store to wash the residue of cum out of your mouth before meeting his god damn family.

He grabs both your bags from the backseat, slinging them over his shoulders, then starts up the path to a… surprisingly small home. It isn't a shack by any means, but after what you saw of Erwin's stupid ranch house and some of the pictures and stories Nile and Gelgar have subjected you to, you just kind of figured all of them had ridiculous amounts of money.

Then again, you know Mike got a full ride to college with a sports scholarship, and he rarely talks about his family and their lifestyle aside from Scout and little tales from his childhood—trips to the zoo, the one time he rode a dirt bike and broke his collarbone, he and his dad rescuing an injured bunny from the park.

You should've known back then that you'd get in too deep.

The small garden that lines the house is well-kempt and full of blooming flowers, and the porch is home to a wire table and matching chairs with an unsavory gnome sitting on top.

"What in the world…"

Mike doesn't even glance to see what you're looking at, just opens the screen door and informs you, "That's Leonidas," so casually that it makes you snort and push him into his own house.

It opens up to a living room, long couch, recliner, coffee table and all. A TV sits right in the middle of a beige entertainment center, DVDs stacked on one side, blu-ray discs on the other. It smells clean—like the lemon wipes you use in your dorm—but even stronger than that is the smell of food.

"Must already be cooking," Mike muses, then calls out in a different fucking language that has you turning to him in confusion.

Before you can ask about it, a plump woman a couple inches taller than you comes rushing out of what you assume to be the kitchen. Her graying hair is tied into a loose bun, cheeks rosy from the heat, and she's still in her apron and a single oven mitt.

"Miche, γλυκό μου αγόρι!"

She stops in front of him and reaches up to grab his face, peppering it with little kisses and babbling words you do not understand in the slightest.

Mike is laughing, speaking to her in the same fashion, possibly answering questions or defending himself judging by the way he holds his hands up. You think you have an inkling about why when his mother turns to you, puts her hands on your shoulders to look at you, then pulls you into a tight hug.

You squeeze her right back, rocking to and fro as she does, then look up at Mike from the corner of your eyes in a panic.

What do you do, what is happening, what hasn't he told you?

It’s about this time that a large dog runs into the room and actually jumps into Mike’s arms. He grunts as he hoists Scout up, nuzzling into her beautiful coat as she tries to lick his face.

"Mamá, let her get settled first," Mike laughs from where he’s getting attacked. His mother lets go of you, but it’s only for Mike to set the dog back down, and Scout takes the opportunity to sniff and paw at you. “Be nice,” he warns her, pulling you in front of him and pushing you toward the hallway.

That need to snoop around is ever present as you enter his room, but the much more pressing issue is, "You could've prepared me, ya' know. Given me a little heads up that you're…"

"Greek?" He snorts, wiping his face with the bottom of his shirt. "My last name is Zacharias. That's a pretty good indicator."

"I—..." You pause, pout, then mumble, "I'm not a genealogy expert."

"Obviously not."

He dumps the bags on his bed, a queen size, thank god, because he had told you last week they didn't have a guest room (and had seemed pretty happy about it at the time).

"I'll get mom and dad to speak in English for the next few days."

"I mean," you shake your head. "It's their house. I don't wanna intrude on that. Let 'em do what they're most comfortable with."

He steps over to you, makes his classic move of staring down at you and smoothing his hand over your hair to make you tilt your head up. "That's sweet, but I know they're dying to talk with you, so actually being able to understand what they’re saying is kinda necessary."

Humming, you stand on your tip-toes just as he begins to stoop lower. Before you can meet in a kiss, though, you smirk, "And, just why do they wanna get to know me, Miche? Is that a secret Greek name too?”

He licks his lips, voice husky when he replies, "I've mentioned you a few times--”

“Uh huh,” you smirk, too close for him to actually see.

“And no, I think it’s Hebrew or something.”

You snicker before your mouths meet, breaths grow heavy, and the only time you break apart is so that you can look him in his light eyes and tell him, "By the way, the whole speaking a different language thing you can do?" He grunts, encouraging you to continue. "Very hot."

You feel him smile against you, a self-satisfied, "Yeah?" making you burn against him.

"Yeah."

It's hard to leave the room, but you both know you have to, hoping neither of you look too kiss-swollen when you walk back into the living room, and when Mike's mom is no longer there, he brings you to the kitchen instead.

"Smells good," he tells her, leaning over the stove and taking a whiff of the prepared dish that’s been set on top--stuffed tomatoes and peppers that make your mouth water.

She says something, and Mike lets her finish before asking, "Can we speak in English while she's here? It's kinda hard to add to a conversation when you, like, don't know what's being said."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" She immediately gushes, turning to you with a worried look. Her accent is thick and charming, but she doesn't ever stutter, clearly fluent, just more comfortable in her apparently native language. "I just get so caught up when my Miche comes home, I—"

And, she's hugging you again.

"I'm Maia! Christopher—Miche's father—should be home soon."

You rub Maia's back until she lets go and turns back to the stove, but even as she does, she's asking you, "How is school? What are you studying? Miche's told me very few things."

He shouldn't have told you anything at all, you want to say.

"Um, it's good. I'm an earth sciences major, geology specifically, so Mike—uh—Miche's been helping me study a lot."

He leans down to speak so only you can hear, "Not necessary to call me that. She's gonna know who you're talking about when you say Mike."

Not that you'll tell him, but you kind of like the way 'Miche' feels, the way it rolls from your lips to the back of your mouth, and for just one second, you think about how you'd like to moan it in his ear.

"So, uh," you shake your head in an attempt to get it back on straight. "Yeah, it's going good, I think."

"It is nice that you study together," Maia hums, slicing into the dish to portion it out. "Miche probably enjoys the break from his fraternity life."

Mike makes an unsure noise, but you grin and lean on the counter, eyes shining as you look at the middle-aged woman, "You know, speaking of that, I need to know what he was like before the whole frat thing 'cause—"

"Uhh, we don't need to talk about that," Mike quickly cuts you off.

Maia, however, catches your eye and winks, a silent promise that she'll fill you in later.

Mike sees it, whines a dramatic, "Mamá, please."

You laugh, glancing over at him with a devious smile that makes him roll his eyes and grumble something.

The creak of a door opening followed by the sound of a screen slamming back against the frame signals the arrival of Mike's father. It takes him a couple minutes to join everyone in the kitchen, probably taking the time to get more comfortable after what you assume to be a long day.

When he does walk in, once styled hair fallen out of place, top two buttons of his shirt undone, you see exactly where Mike gets most of his looks. He may have gotten his fucking mane from his mother, but he definitely got his height and his eyes from his father.

"Oh!" He stops short when he sees you, looks at his wife, then at you, then at Mike. "Is this the girl?"

"Dad!"

Both of his parents snicker as he turns to you, pleading more than telling, "Just ignore them, they don't know what they're talking about."

You don't pay him any mind, join in on the fun when you lift an eyebrow and tease, "Am I, Mike? Am I the girl?"

"Oh my god, this is gonna be a nightmare," he groans, the tips of his ears growing red. Still, he tries to put on a stern face as he points at his parents, speaks in beautiful, rolling words that are beyond you, then turns his flashing gaze to you and commands, "And you, don't encourage them."

"Mm, no promises." You stick the tip of your tongue between your teeth and wink at his mom the way she had at you earlier.

All of you sit at an actual table for dinner, something you haven't done in at least a decade, as you talk and laugh between bites of food. Scout is laying underneath, waiting for someone to drop a piece of food, and every once in a while, you feel her wet nose nudge against your calf.

Maia and Chris are very kind and very funny, and it isn't just because they pick on their son all the time. Chris talks about his day in the office, complaining about coworkers the same way Mike complains about his brothers—"I just don't understand why you would eat sardines in the break room! Someone explain it to me!" Maia tells everyone about the three hour phone call with her mother—"My god that woman can talk. Every time we said goodbye, she would just start on something new!"

"Explains where you get it from," Chris says with a chuckle.

Maia scoffs then stabs a piece of his food with her fork, eating it with purpose as her husband watches.

You lean over to Mike and murmur, "They're cute. I like 'em."

He grunts. "That makes one of us."

Sucking your teeth, you mimic his mother's actions and dig your fork into the meat of his pepper, stealing a bite and scraping your teeth over the utensil in a way you know drives him crazy.

You immediately regret it when you realize how big the piece is, filling your mouth so that it's hard to chew, and you grab a napkin to cover yourself while Mike snorts and smugly says, "Yeah, bet you feel real smart right now. How does thievery taste?"

Shoving his arm, you manage to swallow down enough of the food to talk and tell him, "Tastes delicious."

When you look back across the table, you find Maia and Chris staring at you and Mike with shining eyes and matching grins.

You get along well with Mike's parents. A little too well in his opinion. There are a couple mornings you wake up earlier than he does and share coffee with his mother. He'll walk in to hear her sharing terrible stories about how, "He was such a sensitive little boy," and, "I miss the days he and his friends would spend afternoons here playing their little games."

She even breaks out the photo albums one evening after dinner, leaving Mike mortified as you laugh and 'aww' at the pictures of past birthdays, Boy Scout outings, and the horrors of middle and high school.

"Look how cute you are with braces!"

"Please stop."

"All dressed up for Easter, oh my god, are those bunny ears?"

"Mom made me."

"You were so skinny. What happened?"

"Are you calling me fat?"

"No, I'm calling you buff. Dummy."

Less embarrassing are the long walks the two of you take with Scout (who also loves you, of course). She stays close to your hip as you wander around the park, only leaving your side when you throw her favorite ball. At the house, she noses at you until you shift to let her lay either at your feet or on the couch with her big head in your lap.

It's the cutest fucking thing Mike has ever seen, and he hates it because he can't do anything about it. He can't tell you how much he likes seeing you walk around in his house. He can't tell you how much joy it brings him to hear your laugh ring out alongside his parents'. He can't tell you how much he loves seeing you slide into his old bed in nothing but one of his shirts, making yourself comfortable against his chest and weaving your legs between his.

He can't tell you, but he can do his best to show you.

Late at night when his parents are asleep, when the buzzing TV is the only thing lighting the room, Mike moves inside of you with deep, slow thrusts. He hikes your legs up to lock around his waist or pulls you up against himself if he's taking you from behind. No matter the position, it leaves you clawing at him, breathing heavily, jaw dropping open in a silent scream.

You feel so good, so tight around him even after he gets you ready for his cock. Your silken walls squeeze and milk him, pulling every drop of cum from him to soak into you. Fuck, he's so glad you're letting him do that now, fill you up until you can't take any more, until white is dribbling from your messy pussy. The way you look at him all fucked out is intoxicating, eyes droopy, smile lazy, body twitching with aftershocks as he sucks on your neck and kisses down your shoulders.

You have to know. You have to. Mike knows his feelings are written all over his face when he looks at you, may as well be carved into his skin. The words are on the tip of his tongue every night, but he muffles them with kisses, with burying his face between your legs, with sinking his teeth into your soft flesh.

He can't say it because saying it makes it real. Saying it will make it hurt more.

So Mike keeps his mouth shut, watches you every day as you converse with his parents and play with Scout. You poke around his bedroom in your usual nosy fashion, finding the rest of his Magic cards, old D&D books and privacy screens. The dusty record player he'd inherited from his grandfather interests you above all else, vinyls stacked around it, some old, some new, and as you flip through them now, cross-legged on the floor and swimming in his hoodie, you tell him the little things you talked about with his mom earlier in the day.

"She showed me your baby teeth," you say with a snort. "Why do parents keep those? My mom did too."

"Black Magic, obviously," Mike says seriously, but when you glance up at him, he chuckles. "I don't know, babe. It's fuckin' weird, though."

You grin and look back down at The Alan Parsons Project vinyl in your lap. You're quiet for a moment, but when you do speak up, it's in a quiet voice. "I'm pretty sure they think I'm your girlfriend."

Mike cringes on the bed, shutting his eyes and sighing. "Yeah, that's probably 'cause I told them you were."

"What?" You turn your whole body to face him, eyes wide and incredulous.

Sitting up, Mike holds his hands out and questions, "What was I supposed to tell them? Hey, mom and dad, I'm bringing home this girl I fuck at school all the time."

"We don't just fuck," you scoff. "You could've said friend or… Study buddy."

"Study buddies with benefits," he lets out a humorless laugh. "How many of those study sessions end with your mouth around my cock?"

"That's beside the point." You stand up and walk over to the bed, hands on your hips as you glare at him in an unconvincing manner. You're not actually upset, Mike realizes. A little annoyed maybe but more surprised than anything. "The point is they expect us to do couple-y things."

"We do do couple-y things." Mike reminds you, rolling his eyes when you snicker and murmur 'ha, do do'. "Oh my god, you're a dork."

"So are you. And, a dumb one. What happens when they find out we're not actually together? Are we gonna have to stage a break up somewhere down the line?"

"Stop worrying about it," Mike tries, reaching out for one of your arms to pull you on top of him. You must be very used to straddling him at this point. It seems like you're in his lap more often than you're not these days, even if the two of you are just talking. "Just chill and fake it for a little while longer."

You pout, glancing to the wall for a second before you mutter, "Might be tough. I've never had to fake anything for you before."

Mike groans and traces his fingers up your sides, stopping at your shoulders and using them to guide you closer to him. With your face only millimeters from his, he barely even has to whisper when he presses, "Fake it just this once."

You nod, lips brushing his, and from there you both devolve into sloppy kisses and desperate hands. As always.

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#mike zacharias x reader #miche zacharias x reader #aot x reader #aot fanfic #snk x reader #mels prima vista

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aelingalathyniusrailme · 3 years

Text

Power recognizes power

A little power training gwynriel fic that came from me writing “if you find me at the edge, we’ll jump together.” and I was like this sentence deserves to be the title of something. plus throw everything (and by everything I mean that one sentence in the book) that you know about lightsingers away I’m just using the cute name. and yk there may or may not be some smut at the end.

She was glowing.

She was glowing and Azriel did not mean she looked radiant or that she was overcome with joy, although she did and she was. Gwyneth Berdara was a living, breathing star. As if the spring equinox had come early this year.

Her skin lit up against the blackness of the sky and her hair burned bright with the ferocity of the hearth.

Gwyneth Berdara had stopped singing, the crowd was silent. All eyes were on her but she was looking at him, her light, a beacon to his darkness.

His shadows yearned to go to her, he yearned to go to her. Instead, they both stayed stagnant, watching, waiting.

Azriel was had had enough, he dissolved from view and reappeared on the stage. Startled, Gwyn, took a step back and he stayed right with her, matching her step for step.

He gently tucked a stray piece of lit-up auburn hair behind her here, whispering, “It appears you glow, my love.”

Gwyn, ultimately getting over her initial shock lightly pushed him on the shoulder, “Don’t do that.” She scowled.

Chuckling, he pressed his mouth to hers, in a soft, soothing kiss, forgetful of the audience behind them. As she relaxed beneath his touch, the glow became dimmer and dimmer until it ceased to be. Darkness returned and he stepped back. Gwyn took a breath and stilled. The nervous, passionate energy, that arouse when she sang, calmed for now.

Azriel turned to the crowd, “Due to the events that occurred here tonight, the performance will have to be cut short.” A soft boo drew his attention and immediately he isolated the noise. “Do you want to boo my mate again?” Azriel threatened coolly, his eyes narrowing.

Annoyed, she sighed and spoke to the crowd, “Oh ignore him, I truly am sorry for this interruption but I want to give nothing more than my best and right now I feel as if I can’t do that. the show will be rescheduled sometime next month, letters will be sent out with more information.”

He watched as the stunned and irritated faces slowly began disappearing. Some winnowing away, others taking the slightly more traditional door. Gwyn held her hand out to him. He took it, “So you’re a living lamp?”

“An astute observation.”

“Is there any way I can convince you to rest now and figure this out later?”

She sighed, “It has been an especially long night.”

Azriel stared at her in disbelief, “did you just agree that you should rest?”

“Oh close your mouth, you’ll swallow a fly.” He responded by grinning at her and winnowing them away to their shared home.

Taking off his shirt he yawned not realizing how tired he actually was. It was still strange to him, being able to sleep so freely, without the looming fear of the past and what he couldn’t control. He stopped, realizing Gwyn had not moved from the door.

Gently he asked, “Are you coming?”

She looked at him blankly, lost in thought for a moment before she responded, “Um-yeah-later.” He was unconvinced so she tried again. “I think I’m going to stay out here and make some tea, maybe read a book.”

Azriel gave her a knowing look but did not push, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight Az.” He tenderly kissed her cheek and walked to their room, immediately passing out on the bed.

—————————————————–

Azriel awoke at dawn and turned, unsurprisingly, to find the left side of the bed cold and empty. He sighed as he got out of bed, pulling on a pair of pants, mumbling. “Gwyneth berdara, you are going to be the death of me.”

Knowing there was no way she would be in the house but believing he probably should, he checked regardless and when he determined that she was in fact not in the house, he closed his eyes. When he opened them once again he found himself at the house of wind.

He nodded in acknowledgment, “Clotho,”

Shadowsinger. “The one and only.”

Is there something you require? “Just looking for that mate of mine. Any chance she’s here”

You know she is, and you know precisely where to find her. Ask what you truly want to ask. Through gritted teeth, he asked, “How long has she been here?”

Since 11 pm. Exhaling, he muttered, “Why can’t that damn woman ever rest.”

Over excursion out of only stubborn will seems to be a similarity between the two of you. Azriel frowned slightly before smiling pleasantly, “It’s been a pleasure as always, thank you for your help.”

Clotho only nodded and Azriel began the stairs to the 7th floor.

It took a moment for him to find her, the shadowsinger was a trained spy, forced to observe and retain even the smallest of details, yet he couldn’t find a bubbly redhead in a room full of texts and stories.

Ah, no wonder he hadn’t seen her. Gwyn was surrounded by hundreds upon hundreds of books. She was drowning in literature, her hair was tied loosely in a braid with quite a few pieces falling out, there were dark circles beneath her eyes, and she was sporting the slightly insane look that came from a lack of sleep.

“Gwyn.” Her head jerked up in surprise to see him.

“Oh Az, Ok Ok, I promise I will go to sleep soon I just need 5 more minutes. I’m so so so close. I think I’m going to skip training today. Ok how about 2 minutes. 10. No that’s more. 10 sets of 1 minute. I just need 10 sets of 1 minute. I’m fine how are you?”

“Gwyn, my love, you’re delirious.”

She brushed him off, “What no I’m fine. I’m fine. Did I already say that? I can’t remember.”

Logic was never the way to deal with her insane stubbornness, so he tried a different approach. He pushed down his worry for her, and curled his mouth into a smirk, “I bet,” She perked up like a dog about to be fed, “that you can’t summarize everything you learned last night into,” he checked the clock. “15 minutes.”

“I could do it in 10.”

“Prove it.”

“And when I win?”

“I leave you to research. But if you can’t you have to go to bed.”

“Time starts now.”

Gwyn took a deep breath and began. “First I looked into where light magic is supposed to originate: the day court. Their magic is described as warm and comforting. Every single text I read described the magic the same way, as a sort of yellowish-brown light, like the sun. But the magic that came from me was more of an icy blinding light, like the lights from the stars rather than the sun. Also, as far as I know, I don’t have family from the day court so I looked into the family I do have. My family from the autumn court. However, we know that autumn court magic is fire, and what manifested in me was light not heat. My grandmother was a nymph so I thought well what type of magic do nymphs have. And the answer was severely disappointing, with basic plant magic being the most a nymph was able to do. I was stumped for a few hours before I realized. I’m basing my research on what I believe to be true not what I know to be true. I was told that I am a quarter nymph and because that heritage would explain my non-high fae-like features I believed that, for there was no reason for me not to. But what if my nymph grandmother was not a nymph at all. I flipped through dozens of books on faeries that have similar features, light magic, and/or can live on land and water. For the most part, I could not find anything, but then out of the corner of my eye I found a small tome on the history of light magic, the majority being all things I’d seen a million times before on the day court, but a passage no more than a page long, referenced ‘the lightsinger.’ Now what is a Lightsinger, you may ask? Honestly, I had no idea what or who they were so I found every book and story I could on them. The lightsinger’s, instead of being a title for a way to manipulate magic, like shadowsingers or daemati, were a race. A long-lost fae race said to be able to bend and create light with their voices and song. It’s said that they died out due to a conflict with the shadowsingers but every so often there are sightings of unknown nymph-like creatures in you’ll never believe where. The autumn court. Now I would only have 25% of lightsinger blood but magic is a fickle thing and some sources believe that when bred with high fae blood the magic intensifies.” Gwyn exhaled.

Azriel grinned victoriously, “It’s been 20 minutes.”

“Goddamn it, I didn’t even get to the interactions between shadowsingers and lightsingers.”

Now he was intrigued. “Well if you want to continue I certainly won’t stop you.”

“No no,” she yawned, “I lost which means I will be going to bed. But I do want to alter our deal slightly.”

“Oh?”

“I sleep now, you train me tomorrow.” The set of her chin and the look in her eye were enough to assure him of how serious she was.

“You want a male who specializes in darkness to help you master your light?”

“Certain theories believe that the mother gifted the light and shadowsingers their gifts to balance each other out and to remain harmonious.” She reasoned. “So yes there is no one I would want more to teach me.”

“I will not take it easy on you.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.”

“Alright Berdara, we meet Sunday at dawn, do not be late.”

“I’ll be there.”

——————————————————————————————————–

Sunday arrived and Azriel watched as Gwyn came down to the training ring in her leathers, with a white ribbon tied in her hair.

“Good morning Gwyneth.”

“So formal.” He shot her a look. “Oh alright ok my turn. Good morning Azriel, shadowsinger, spymaster of the night court, mate of the most amazing female to grace this planet.”

“Training is serious.”

“Of course it is. Shall we begin?”

“I want you to light up the room.”

“What? is it not already lit?”

He smirked and let his shadows paint the room black. Azriel himself became smoke, nothing more than a voice in the darkness.

“Az, az come on this is not funny.”

“Good, because it’s not a joke.” His voice came from every direction and every way Gwyn turned she was surrounded by endless nothing. “You must learn to sing the song of light the way I learned the language of shadow.”

“Speaking in vague melodrama feels like it’s not going to be that effective.”

Gwyn tried to back up only to find what was once the training ring now bled together with the depth of the sky.

“Let the light speak to you. Coax it, nurture it. Burn through the darkness and find the light.”

“How am I supposed to do that.”

Gwyn thought of the way Nesta harnessed her silver fire, the way her eyes became the flame itself. She concentrated and searched deep within herself, searching and looking for the light she knew she possessed.

All she saw was a hallowed chamber.

“No.” The word echoed throughout the room. “Our magic is not like others, we do not create out of nothing, we manipulate what is already there.”

“How am I supposed to manipulate if I’m in a room with no light?” Gwyn huffed frustrated.

“Just because the shadows are masking it, does not mean it is not there.”

He was so damn infuriating. She tried calling the light to her, she flexed her hands, she even tried speaking to it, all to no avail.

“As you said, magic is fickle and our elements especially. Light and darkness do not want to be bound or controlled, let the light be a friend, a companion, let it want to help, let it want to be influenced by your will.”

But how the fuck was she supposed to do that.

“Think of the first time it came to your call.” He whispered ominously. “What were you thinking. What were you feeling? Power often manifests through emotion.”

Singing. She had been singing. Was it really so easy that all she had to do was sing?

Turns out it wasn’t.

For hours she sang hundreds of songs. From songs in the old fae language that she sang at the priestess services to ones she had written herself. Nothing worked. Azriel had let her have a singular break when she desperately needed to pee and even then he was skeptical.

He had left her to her own devices leaving his shadows to watch over her progress. When he returned he found Gwyn clutching her knees, rocking in the shadows. Her gaze was unfocused and she was humming to herself.

“You have officially broken me. I’m done.” She wanted nothing more than to sit in the library with her sisters and a book.

“No.”

Gwyn’s eyes snapped into focus, her breathing steadied, and she went predatorily still. “Excuse me.”

“You heard me. No.” Azriel laughed, a cold vicious laugh. “You asked me to train you. Gwyneth Berdara has never quit before and she certainly won’t start now.”

Gwyn was seething, but she remained quiet. “What?” He was toying with her. “A little darkness too much for you. Light up the room and we won’t have a problem.”

“Oh that’s right you can’t. 10 hours in and no light in sight. You’re pathetic.”

Her anger cleared her mind and in that moment of clarity a memory, buried deep within her, resurfaced as if it was resting, snoozing until its moment of need.

Gwyn was in her mother's lap, a black-haired girl sat across from her. Her voice pulled her attention. “My girls, Catrin,” She tickled her, resulting in a giggle from her lost sister, before she turned her head, “Gwyneth.” And also tickled her. Gwyn's small hands clutched at their mother, desperately trying to hold on. “My two beautiful daughters.” She sighed. “Your lives will be filled with so much darkness, darkness that you do not deserve. But I need you two to be strong, to stay with each other, and to find strength in the other.” ‘I don’t get it,” Gwyn whined.

“We are a part of a glorious and lost people, a people of light and song. But they fear us because they do not understand us.”

Gwyn and Catrin looked up at her, confused and innocent.

“It’s ok, you will. You know the song I sing to you every night before you go to sleep?” Gwyn and Catrin cheered, “Yeah.”

“I want you to sing it with me, and I don’t want you to ever forget it. Can you do that for me?”

Their voices came together in a melodic lullaby. It was captivating and cold, those who heard could not look away. The song demanded to be heard, to be sung.

The words came tumbling out of Gwyn, they twisted around her tongue and lips as if finally home. Lost but not forgotten. Lost but born anew. Through the shadow and darkness, her eyes found the light, it heard her call and from every direction it found her. She pulled the brilliance of the stars to her and let the light paint the dark white.

The shadows retreated to Azriel who stood just two feet in front of her. Their eyes locked and he smiled, “there she is.”

The light flowed and flowed, and the room lit up in a blaze of pearlescent radiance. Her pale skin lit and she had once again become one with the stars.

But while the call came from her, there was another that drew her light forward. His shadows and her light curiously answered the pull. Finding each other between Azriel and Gwyn. One did not dissolve into the other like it should but instead mingled, swirling around each other in an almost playful manner. They became one from two opposites that never should have met.

As they blended together she felt a pounding in her chest and a throbbing somewhere lower. Her toes curled and she craved more. Their power was its own entity and yet connected to them. A push and pull, a desire to be close.

Azriel bridged the gap between them breathing heavily, pulling her against him as he’d never felt her before. “Az.” she gasped.

His eyes were on her lips as he licked his own, smiling, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so alive.”

“You’re the worst,” She said between breaths.

“I know.” And their lips met in a furious burst of passion.

He kissed her with a fiery hunger, a male starving. Her hands weaved through his hair, her fingers getting lost in the darkness. Gwyn wanted nothing more then to be lost in his darkness, as he wanted to drown in her light. Azriel gripped her waist, grinding his hardness into her causing her to moan.

“You make such pretty sounds for me.” He chuckled, ripping her shirt off.

“Fuck me.” It was an order, not a request.

“Gladly.” Their clothes were gone moments later. His kisses moved down her neck as he sucked and his fingers dipped to her cunt as he felt her. “Always so wet and ready for me.”

She wrapped her hand around his cock, “Always so hard for me.”

“Can’t help it.”

“Wouldn’t want you to.” He laid her down in the middle of the training ring and stroked his cock up and down her folds, pressing against her clit. “oh my god-fuck.”

With that, his control snapped and he buried himself to the hilt in her. Stroking once, twice.

He smirked, crooning, “look how perfectly we fit.”

His thrusts were slow and shallow, edging her on, basking in the feel of him in her, of her around him.

He then went harder, hitting her in the right spot every time, but Gwyn needed more.

“Faster.”

“Your wish is my command.” Azriel fucked her hard and fast, and with every thrust she moaned in ecstasy, driving her hips forward, meeting him step for step.

“Oh my god fuck me.”

“Such a good girl, taking it so well.” He captured a moan on her lips, devouring her.

“yes, yes fuck.”

Where the light met the dark, was where Gwyn met Azriel. They were cocooned in a shell of power flowing between and all around them. They were a storm of blinding light and depthless shadow, the lines of what were and were not, blurred to just the other.

“Gwyn.” He groaned, nothing existed but them.

“Az I’m gonna cum.”

“Yes, my love, cum for me.”

Every thrust became sporadic and uncontrolled as if his pleasure had taken a mind of its own. He swirled his tongue around her nipple and ground her clit with his fingers.

It was all too much, Gwyn cried out as she came, her back arching, toes curling. Her cunt tightened around his cock as he fucked her past completion. She was everything and watching her cum was enough to send him over the edge as he emptied himself in her, collapsing on the ground next to her.

For a moment they were silent before Gwyn spoke, “would you like to hear what I learned about the interactions between Lightsinger’s and Shadowsinger’s” She smirked, “Apparently the sex is unlike even mate sex.”

“I can vouch for that.”

Gwyn laughed, and if it wasn’t the most beautiful sound he’d ever heard.

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