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hanazuma-inactive · 3 years

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defrost (nsfw) kaeya x top!male reader

pronouns: he/him

warnings: ice play!! slight degradation, orgasm denial/ edging, top male reader, bottom kaeya

a/n: this was edited by @kamihara, she really outdone herself in this one, professional kaeya simp lol

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“to think such an honourable knight such as you, the cavalry captain of mondstat, is now begging to cum. how shameful of you,” you let out a low chuckle as a provocative smile broke out on your lips, “i wonder what citizens would say if they saw their beloved and oh so admirable kaeya in this position?”

as a captain of the ordo favonius, you were a bright figure to the people of mondstat. a person who aided in saving the city from destruction, one of the heroes that defeated storm terror. of course, other knights had nothing but respect for you as your skill and talent was nothing short of impressive. many looked at you with a high regard due to your strength and position, this meant that many were intimidated by your presence and therefore fear approaching you.

however, there was one person who disregarded this and stuck by you anyways, kaeya alberich, the cavalry captain. out of everyone in the knights of favonius, you were the closest with kaeya. you enjoyed his company a lot, he was an interesting person who knew how to keep a conversation going, and while you're with him you could never find yourself feeling bored. he was as charming as he was cunning.

kaeya found himself enjoying your company too. the two of you have done lots of things together. going on missions, getting away with “knighty” duty, babysitting klee, and drinking at angels share. you know, all the fun things in life.

kaeya was a secretive person, and while you were curious about him, you respected his boundaries. perhaps this was the reason why he drew you in, besides his blaringly good looks of course.

there was no doubt that the man was attractive from head to toe. his silky navy blue hair fell down his shoulder with grace, his fringe complemented his smooth, flawless sepia toned face. his periwinkle eye held the sheen of a crystal, glistening as his long eyelashes framed it with poise. the diamond shaped pupils his eyes possessed could leave you in a trance forever. his open white shirt left his cleavage on display, contrasted with the black corset around his slim, slim waist. his slender legs brought him around with confidence and charisma.additionally, the intricate accessories he wore suited his personality well. all in all, kaeya was a pretty little thing.

all of this lead up to you harbouring romantic feelings for the cavalry caption. how could you not feel anything? he was perfect in every way.

the sound of kaeya’s voice snapped you out of your thinking. “y/n, any missions today?”

“nothing for you i don’t think, i gotta help jean with the paperworks though.” you sighed at the thought of a mountain of paperwork.

“great, well i’m off then you have fun doing whatever.” kaeya smirked at you, poking fun at your dread.

he started to turn around and walk off but you had other plans.

“wait. kaeya-” you speak quickly.

“hm?” he hummed out.

“angels share? 9pm?”

a quizzical look washed over his face before he masked it with one of his cunning smiles.

“alright.”

little did kaeya know you had more in mind than just drinking with him tonight. today would be the day when you finally told him about your little crush on him.

night quickly arrived after a day of working with jean. you were pretty exhausted but still excited about what's about to happen later tonight. when you entered the bar, Kaeya was already waiting for you at the counter talking with the bartender, charles.

“ah, i see mr.l/n is here too. Your usual today as well sir?”

“yah that’d be nice, thanks charles.” you said as you took a seat next to kaeya

“you got it.” charles said as he left to go get your drink.

angel's share was the place you and kaeya loved the most. the kind of noisy background with people chatting. cyrus and jack talking about their gains for today, six-fingered jose still playing his lyre, the song was getting a little old but you didn’t mind, in fact if he changed the song you probably wouldn’t be used to it.

“so, what’s the special occasion for today? you usually don’t invite me to drink on weekdays.” kaeya said while swirling his drink and glancing over at you.

kaeya’s eyes always amazed you. you didn’t know the name of the grey-ish color but you could gaze into them forever. his smooth skin glowed under the dim lighting in the bar. you loved everything about the man, his dark blue hair, his perfectly shaped body, and the fact that you could see a little bit of his clothing. what kaeya said on the first day when you guys met was true, you did feel something for him.

“hm? can i not invite fellow knights to share a drink once in while without a special occasion.”

“well, not wrong there but…you seem like you have ulterior motives for tonight from the way you’re dressing.” kaeya said, smirking at you.

it was true, you purposely chose one of your best outfits today for kaeya, you wanted to impress the man not only from your combat skills, but also your looks. there was no secret you could hide from kaeya. he knew you too well and he always looked right through you. it could have just been kaeya’s observant nature but you like to hope it was something more than that.

“you’re right there, you really do know me too well, maybe i need to start hiding things from you a little huh?”

“you can try but i highly doubt it’ll work in your favour, mr.honorary knight.”

both of you looked at each other with a slight smirk as charles arrived with your drink. after drinking for a good while you could tell kaeya was getting a little tipsy. his movements were unstable, he shaked a little while walking and his eyes started to become hazy. what better time than right now to reveal your true plans for tonight, you were gonna fuck the shit out of the beautiful man. you wanted to hear him scream your name in pleasure as you break him, over and over again.

“why don’t we go somewhere else? y’know, somewhere more, quiet” you suggested while scooting closer to kaeya.

“i wouldn’t mind that.”

as soon as you heard those words you immediately got up and left with kaeya. your plan was going perfectly and the best part is about to come soon. kaeya wasn’t stupid, he was an adult afterall and he knew what you were trying to do. dressing up all sexy like that, getting drinks, going somewhere more “private”, what else could it have been.

the two of you arrived in your house and headed straight for your bedroom. kaeya has been to your house many times for many reasons and he knew where everything was so he didn’t trip or fall.

you placed a light kiss on kaeya’s lips while he laid on your bed.

“wait here~ i’ll be right back.”

this was where things would get, interesting

you opened your fridge to grab a small wooden bowl. the content inside was covered by a small white cloth. after grabbing that you went to grab some rope from a drawer you hid them in because you didn’t know what to say if someone saw those items in your house.

after bringing the items back you put them on the side and pushed kaeya down.

“what’re those?” he asked

(its a surprise tool that’ll help us later.)

“don’t worry about it sweetheart, just lay back and let me do the work alright?”

you brought a blush to kaeya’s face with your flirty words as he gave you a small nod, signalling you consent and approval. you kept invading kaeya’s mouth over and over again, you’re tongue so skillful kaeya was sure this definitely wasn’t your first time. the kisses ended after a while leaving both of you panting and a half an erection in your pants. wanting more, you began to take off kaeya’s uniform. his skin is so beautiful, you could also see his well defined body, just the perfect amount, not too buff, not too skinny. you licked your lips a little bit and looked up at kaeya with a smirk. when you put your mouth onto kaeya’s pink nipples, he squealed a little out of surprise but soft moans soon began to escape from his mouth.

“a-ah~ didn’t know you had this in you, honorary knight.”

“oh i know a lot more tricks that can make you feel good~” you teased.

as you continued to suck on kaeya’s smooth skin, you decided to spice things up a little bit. kaeya yelped as he felt a slight pain around his nipples. you remove your mouth to see a bite mark around it.

“to mark you as mine~”

“tch, you cocky little bastard.”

seeing the tent building up in kaeya’s pants, you decided to take them off and grant it some release. after you took off kaeya’s jeans you saw a small stain at the top of his boxers, showing that he felt good earlier.

“alright... this is where the fun part begins.” you said as you grabbed the ropes you initially put on the floor.

“restraining me? go ahead, let’s see if the honorary knight is all talk or he actually has something up his sleeve.” kaeya taunted

not liking his attitude, you forcefully tied kaeya’s hands behind his back and pushed him to the end of the bed facing you with nothing on but his boxers. now, the mighty kaeya alberich, is at your mercy.

“alright, we can do this in two ways. one, you listen to me, second, i don’t think you’ll like what’ll happen,”

kaeya raised his head a little and looked you dead in the eyes.

“i choose the second option”

you knew kaeya was the bratty type and it’ll only add to the fun to tame him. after hearing his choice you pushed kaeya back to where he was before and uncovered the bowl you had prepared earlier on the side. the bow was filled with medium sized ice cubes and it was till now that kaeya finally realized what you were trying to do.

“ice cubes huh? bring it on.”

“you asked for it~”

you grabbed one of the ice cubes and started to rub it on kaeya’s pecs, making circular motions and slowing moving towards the center where his nipples are.

“f-fuck that’s cold.”

you saw kaeya’s cock twitch a little when you first reached his nipples and you knew he was feeling good. moving on with your plan, you rested the ice cube on kaeya’s nipples and lifted his boxers where his cock is still covered but his asshole is exposed to you. right after that, you grabbed the lube that has been sitting in your nightstand and spread them on your fingers. without mercy you put 2 fingers into kaeya, trying to find his pleasure spot. sooner or later when kaeya started to let out tiny moans you knew you hit your target.

“feels good huh baby boy~”

“y-yah, and so what o-oh fuck~”

kaeya was sure feeling it, to a point where he started stuttering.

the constant teasing got kaeya close to his limit. he couldn’t hold it any longer. but you’re not gonna let him cum that easy are you? of course not, he needed to be punished for what he did earlier.

“a-ah y/n i’m gonna cum i’m gonna cum so hard- wait why'd you s-stop?” kaeya asked

“you decided to be a brat earlier didn’t you~? bad boys get punishment.” you said with a smirk on your face.

kaeya stayed silent, not a word coming out of his mouth, head hung low feeling embarrassed.

“maybe~ if you begged a little i might reconsider, don’t you think so, pretty boy?”

kaeya finally lost his composure at this point, all he wanted was to cum from your touch.

“fine... i don’t care anymore.” kaeya growled.

“p-please y/n.” kaeya looked up at you with pleading eyes. “i want to c-cum, i want to cum so bad. i should’ve been a good boy from the beginning… i promise i’ll be obedient from now on, j-just please, let me cum…” kaeya begged

“that’s what i thought.”

satisfied with kaeya’s begging, you decided to grant him his release. you added another ice cube to the other side of kaeya’s chest while stroking his dick through his boxers. of course you didn’t forget to keep teasing kaeya’s prostate while you were at it. all these different stimulations made kaeya lose his mind. the male came through his boxers all over the place. semen spilled on his own stomach and chest followed with moans so loud the entire mondstat could hear him.

after he settled himself down a little, kaeya waited for you to untie him. you exchanged a kiss with him while you were doing so, smiling at each other thinking about what just happened. neither of you cared about the mess that you made because you guys were tired. listening to the birds chirp, you fell asleep with the dark blue haired male on your bed.

the two of you woke up in the afternoon to the noises of mondstat. you woke up a little before kaeya and from your point of view he was literally a sleeping beauty. you stroked his hair a little bit, causing him to wake up.

"y/n…good morning handsome."

"right back at you."

both of you giggled a little while holding hands.

"hey kaeya?"

"yes y/n."

"i've been meaning to get this off my chest and i don't think there will be a better time to say it than now."

"well go ahead, i'm all ears."

"you were the only one that ever stuck with me in the knights, everyone was afraid of me due to my strength except for you. you listened to me, you talked to me, and if it weren't for you i probably would've quit the job at the knights already." you took a deep breath and let out the words kaeya were waiting for.

"kaeya alberich... will you he my boyfriend?"

kaeya gave you a small scoff as a reaction and a light kiss to your lips.

"what reason do i have to refuse such a perfect man?."

#genshin impact #genshin fic #genshin impact fic #genshin x reader #genshin x male reader #genshin x m!reader #genshin smut #genshin x male reader smut #genshin x top m!reader #genshin x top male reader #kaeya #kaeya alberich #kaeya x reader #kaeya x male reader #kaeya x reader smut #kaeya x male reader smut #kaeya x m!reader smut #kaeya x top!male reader #kaeya x top male reader

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elsieys-blog · 3 years

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Perks of an insomnia-driven night.

Draco Malfoy x ravenclaw!reader

a/n: hi hello, this is my first draco malfoy au and I hope you get to enjoy it as much as I wrote it <3

contains: fluff, tension, cussing, insomnia, room of requirement, Draco's rings, and strangers to friends with benefits.

summary: due to another insomnia-driven night, you strolled and suddenly bumped into a particular Slytherin. He gave you a gift you would cherish forever.

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A loud buzz from outside startled you as you curled up on your bed, pulling the blanket up to your torso to suppress the chilly weather. You couldn't keep count on how many times you've tried to close your eyes and think as if you went into a free fall in hopes of getting yourself adrift. But no. You've closed your eyes, opened it again, flat it again but it didn't help at all. You were widely awake despite the fact you hadn't eaten any chocolate at all.

You heaved a sigh before deciding to leave your bed and go on for a short walk on the dimly lit hallways. Perhaps the calmness and stillness of it would soothe you. You pushed the duvet away from your nearly naked body and slipped your slippers onto your feet. Standing up, you went over to the bathroom, did some basic hygiene before twisting the doorknob and leaving your dormitory in a swift.

God, even the Ravenclaw common room didn't look fancy anymore.

It usually does every morning to dawn. But every midnight and pass midnight? It looks like as though someone was murdered and students ought to stay hidden in their dorms.

As your quiet and soft trudges echoed the walls, only a few line of torches lighting your way, you exited the Ravenclaw common room and was now and finally outside. The hallways were now bigger and neverending, as if you had set foot into a deja Vu. A few floorboards you step creaked and so the snoring portraits on every corner and side of the wall yawns and went back to sleep.

You maintained a good slow and calm pace until you forgot to pick up your wand from your room. There was no going back now because it was a long way back. Now you had to squint your eyes so that it adjusted from the pitch black darkness.

Loud cawing from crows scare you sometimes so goosebumps prickled your skin. The only thing you could see was the dots of glitter from the sky and the shadows the oak trees casted on the ground. The shadow was formed strangely and it looks distorted so you held a deep breath, reminding myself that there was nothing to be bothered of. And that everyone was sleeping just fine.

As you walked silently, your head elbow-deep in thoughts, you didn't know you were now staring at a wall so called the Room of Requirement. The walls was approximately fifteen feet, bizarre patterns across it.

"Well, there's nothing else to go, so. . ." Your mind spoke and you closed your eyes, thinking of a plausible reason to get yourself inside. After a few seconds, you heard three faint clicks until the wall molded into a tall door. You glanced sideways before entering the room slowly.

You were met by the darkness once again, but this time it felt comforting. You walked and walked, taking in the unblemished and grubby furnitures hidden beyond the tall door. There were stacks and mounds of unused things that you felt suddenly guilty. As you roamed around without a route, a movement beside you caught you off guard and it piqued your interest. Is someone else here?

"hello?" You started, your brows furrowing as you followed the movement.

As far from your expectations, the anonymous person replied and it was a manly, cold voice. "What are you doing up in the middle of the night? Aren't you supposed to be asleep?"

A shiver came across your spine. You shyly said, "aren't you supposed to be too?" You saw his shadow lurch and you took the chance to step forward.

He said, "doesn't matter why I'm here. This is my usual spot." His voice was a bit taunting and bragging.

"Well, you're hiding in the shadows so... And you're not supposed to hide if you claim this as your spot." You sternly said, keeping your gaze fixated on his moving shadow.

"I'm not hiding. Have you come to the realization that it's the dead of the night?" He sternly said.

"Yes, but— I think we should come over to the light so I can see you." You plead but you doubt he would actually do it.

"See me? Pathetic."

You sighed. "What? How about let's do it together? I'm really in the mood for some company right now."

The man was hesitant at first but he considered it. As much as he was irritated by someone invading his territory, he kind of wanted a company too. There was a strong exhale across you as he said. "Fine."

You gave an upturned smile, stepping into a small ray of light seeping through a window. The moonshine cradled your face as well as his. He stood tall and with poise in front of you with a neutral glare, looking down as if his eyes belittle you. "Better princess?"

You couldn't help but stare at his eyes. Wait- he was standing in front of you so he blocked the moonshine and you could only see his silhouette. You grabbed his sleeve and ushered him to a better angle. When you gently pushed his back on a partition, you finally got to look at his golden blue eyes, and the bits of freckles that stretched to his nose and cheekbones. His face was sculpted beautifully and even his nose shaped like a button. He was lithe and pristine. And you began to coil into a pit of fire.

"You're- Draco Malfoy?" Your voice shook.

"that's me." He smirked and it only made my headspace ablaze. "And you are?"

You were too busy admiring his features but your mind eventually rebounded. "I- Y/n- Y/n Y/l/n!"

He kept on smiling. "Oh, you!" He began to finally acknowledge your ghostly presence before. "You're the one I shared potions with on fifth year eh? The one where we got perfect scores?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"Right. The only reason we got perfect grades for it was because of my skills actually. Don't forget that." He playfully said, beaming a wink at you which got your cheeks turning slightly crimson.

"Ha ha, very funny. I still helped though." You avowed.

"Mhm. But I did most of the dirty work and you just stood there, watching." He laughed and I chuckled. Fun times.

"Fine. Have it your way. I did watch instead of help. Happy?" You jeered but you couldn't help but glance at the collection of rings on his bony fingers. You went still for a moment and decided to ask the unthinkable. "Malfoy?"

"Yes?"

"You- you have nice rings. It looks good on you." You faltered in the slightest but remained a tepid look. "Silver matches you to be honest."

"Silver?" His eyebrows rose and his voice was unbelievably sexy. "I get that a lot."

You keep on staring, checking out the patterns designed on the small ringed jewelry such as serpents and cursive letters. You didn't realize you were smiling until his fingers convulsed. "Y/n?"

You look back into his stormy eyes with embarrassment. "Oh I- I'm sorry, I was just-"

"It's obvious you really like them, don't you?"

"Well, I mean it's pretty but-"

"Would you want one?" His question was out of the blue so you nearly jolted.

Your eyes widen in full extent, the feeling of affection was set into extreme levels that you feel like you're about to explode. "Oh er- that's good thank you, but-"

"It's pretty I get it. And you seem to admire it as much as I do so ..." He paused, removing one of the glinting rings from his ring finger and held it into his palm. "Here, you can have it for me."

Your cheeks were flaming and it was intolerable. He was platonic and you never expected it from him. You sucked in a deep inhale, tongue-tied. "Oh my god, Malfoy, this was so unnecessary-"

"It's alright. Besides, I think that hand of yours need some color." He smiled tenderly, handing you the ring. His height was towering and it only made things worse for you to handle because of how the air thickens and the atmosphere suddenly getting hot.

"I d-don't know what to say." You stutter. "But thank you. Thank you so much, wow."

You got ahold of the metallic ring, inserting it on your ring finger but it didn't fit. It was expected of course. So you tried putting it on your middle finger but it was loose still. As you were about to put it on your thumb, his cold hands gripped your wrist making you halt mid-process.

"What is it-"

"Here let me help you out."

God, he was also wearing a silver glinting necklace. Now that is fucking sexy!

Draco unclasped his own necklace, putting either ends of it into the ring until it hang perfectly. When it was perfectly adjusted just how he wanted it to, he offered it to you without double thinking, a genuine grin sprawled on his handsomely face.

You were still deeply honored yet it felt... Wrong. "Draco- I really appreciate this but- it's yours and we barely even talk-"

"I don't care about that." He flawlessly said. "You remind me of someone I deeply love and... I guess this is my way of being grateful we met at this untimely night." He scoffed and you're a bit sure you saw a hint of blush on his face.

"Really?" You didn't bother asking who that person was since he probably wasn't in the mood to tell you. You were flattered by his words as you accepted his offer.

"Yes. Now take this, and wear it. I want to see your hands with my rings, Y/n." He flirtatiously spoke, giving you another wink.

You rolled your eyes at his ridiculous act. As you were about to out it, he stopped you once more and this time you were a bit provoked. "What is it again?"

He shrugged, and now the blush hidden in his handsome features was now displayed. It was cute seeing his pale, porcelain skin yo be tainted with a tinge of scarlet. He took the necklace into his hands and made strong and seducing type of eye contact. You nearly tripped at his look right now as he said. "Let's make this scene a bit... Romantic. And by that..." He clasped the necklace on your neck, his fingers ghosting your skin ever-so-slightly. "I get to do this to you."

You shudder, not just because of the cold weather, but because of his cold touch. It was so nice against your skin that you wanted him to do it again. You smiled and bit your lip to restrain any embarrassing words. "Draco, you're being too sweet-"

"Am I? People always like the idea of making me sound rude. It feels good I get to prove it to you that that is a lie." His hands sat ok your shoulder, the pad of his thumb caressing you pulse point between your neck and shoulder.

"I understand that. When people wanted to make you sound like a villain when truly your just trying to be genuine and basic?"

Draco grinned. "Yeah, Y/n. Something like that."

You contemplated for a moment, the tension between you building up because of how close your lips had been. It was merely an inch apart, your noses almost touching that you suddenly want to feel the saccharine taste of his lips and the soft texture pressed against yours. Maybe it would be the cure to your insomnia-driven nights. Maybe it would ease and alleviate you.

"You're pretty, you know?"

You were taken a back. You stared at his eyes still and didn't even realize his hands had dropped down to your elbows, pulling it closer to him, informing you that he wants your hands to lean on his chest—to feel how ragged his breathing had gotten just by her presence. You flinched a little and smiled.

"Oh?" Was the only word to roll out of your tongue.

"Mhm." Draco was lost in his own void, his concentration had dropped from your eyes and down to your gaped lips. "So pretty..."

Fuck...

You couldn't bear the growing impatience anymore and you knew to yourself that you had to do something about it. Something to help soften his heavy breathing. He looked tired and worn out. Fragile and about to burst. You had to do something about it quick before he breaks.

Shit!

And so you lifted your heel to match his height and pecked a kiss on the corner of his mouth. For a moment Draco closed his eyes to memorize the way both your lips linked—he was awestruck. He smelled good. So good that you wanted to give another go but was frustrated enough that he didn't slam you against the wall and leave you breathless from his aggressive kisses so you just stood there and watched him remember the unsolicited peck you just gave him.

"Y/n-"

"Can I kiss you?" You abruptly said without hesitation. "Again? And this time... Better?"

Shit..

He nodded in the slightest of movement before lowering his head and both your lips met anew. There were fireworks and butterflies erupting in your stomach and all you could feel was how graceful and subtle his tongue shifted against yours and it was pure bliss. And this time, it was rougher than you thought.

a/n: AHHH! i hope you liked this one, and also PART TWO IS COMING SOON! sorry, I left y'all in a cliffhanger ;))

#draco malfoy #draco lucius malfoy #draco malfoy x ravenclaw!reader #draco malfoy x y/n #draco malfoy x you #draco malfoy fluff #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one shot #draco imagine #draco one shot #draco fanfiction #harry potter #draco x y/n #draco x ravenclaw!reader #slytherin #ravenclaw

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chocominnie · 3 years

Text

One Last Time 02 — Pjm. (M)

⇢ pairing: Jimin X Reader

⇢ Genre: Idol!Jimin, Exbf!Jimin, model!reader, sad au, fluff, tons of smut, angst

⇢ Synopsis: Your idol ex boyfriend Jimin cheated on you. You two have been broken up for a while now and the media has been keeping track of you and him. You’re trying to get over him, but the things that happen inbetween makes you re-think the entire breakup, and so does Jimin…

⇢ Song : xxxxx

⇢ Previous : 00 01

⇢ Word Count :

⇢ Warnings: dominant jimin, makeout sessions, this is honestly a sad angsty au, cheating, pregnancy, unprotected and protected sex, a bunch of sex, no really a LOT of sexual themes too, I know I’m forgetting some but sorry in advance!

⇢ Copyright: please do NOT repost, translate, or modify my works in any way, shape or form, on any platform. If found doing so , it is considered as plagiarism and appropriate LEGAL action will be taken

⇢ Authors note: This is my mini series for the summer! Get your tissues, things to take your anger out on, and sit back and watch the drama unfold. Shall we begin?

Your eyes shoot open, chest heaving heavily as you let out a blood curdling scream. Not this again. The same dream over and over again each night. It leaves you sleepless. The time on the clock on your nightstand reads 3:04 am. Just only four hours ago is when you fell asleep. But a full night’s sleep hasn’t happened for a year so why would it matter anyways.

Once you catch your breath you unplug your phone from the charger and read some of the notifications. From your window, the night-time critters sing their songs along with the persistant owl that’s somewhere around the apartment complex. You’d only noticed him, the owl, just a few months ago when your cat started meowing with his hoots.

A missed call from your uncle.

Immediately you unlock your phone and dial the number. Bringing your index finger to your mouth you gently nip on it waiting for it to answer, The rings are agonizing to you. If something has happened you only wish and pray it wasn’t as bad as you think. He’s the only parental figure left in your life.

‘‘ Princess! Hello I was just calling to speak to you earlier. But I realized you are five hours ahead of me and you had probably went to sleep.’‘

His soothing voice calms your emotions making you let out a tiny breath of air. Thank god.

‘’Hey Charlie.” You sigh. Looking towards your left, you spot Clara purring quietly next to you. You can’t help but to smile while bringing a hand over to rub her head with your thumb. She’s so small under the shining moonlight from your window.

Her white coat shines brightly amongst her, making you remember the first night you had brought her home. All she did was sleep, and it worried you because you had no prior expierence caring for anything, let alone a small animal. Clara only drank kitten milk and slept back then. Occasionally being awake enough to nip at your fingers whenever you pet or touched her.

Now she’s a bit bigger and walks around the apartment like she owns the place. Quite the little attitude she has, but its too damn cute for you to scold her whenever she does something wrong.

“ Yes I did fall asleep from after a gathering at someone’s house.’’ You continue on, bringing your knees to your chest after opening the curtain of your window fully.

The moons brightness illuminates the entire room, but not so bright for you to complain though. ‘’ Oh- was it Jimin’s? Tell him I said hell-’’

You bite your lip hard at his name. He doesn’t know and you wont even dare to let him know. Knowing him, your uncle would have a fit and oppose to come back to Seoul to ‘set the record straight.’ to Jimin. That’s the last thing you want to do, cause trouble.

‘‘ It was his brother’s house warming party.” You say, lowering your tone in your voice. You look at the nightstand for a couple of seconds just before opening the top drawer of the wooden, polished piece. Your hands shakily pull out a picture of you two together.

It was taken at Marne-la-Vallée, France right infront of Cinderella’s castle. That was the day that you and Jimin had to went to Disneyland in Paris, France. You cant help but to think, with the picture in hand, that it was one of the best nights ever. It was also the same night your virginity was taken.

‘‘ Oh.. I know that tone. Are you two arguing at the moment.”

You shrug, “ I mean you could say that.’’

No you cant.

‘‘ Alright alright I won’t talk more of him. Let’s change the subject.” He chuckles deeply into the phone.

‘‘ How’s Europe? Anything new happening on base?”

‘‘ Same old Same old. It’s been what? 2 years since I’ve left Seoul? The food is different over here. They don’t have kimchi pancakes sadly.”

You can only imagine the frowny face he makes at you whenever he doesn’t approve or like something. It always turns out to be funny.

You giggle into the phone shaking your head slightly, “ Of course. You are in Europe Charlie. Where are you getting food from anyway if you are on base?’’

‘‘ I can go off base to a certain mileage when I am off duty. I just have to report back in time. But you do know that you can always come live on base with me...’ He trails off.

Oh boy. Here he goes. He’s always talking about moving you on base with him. Hell, he’s been talking about it since before he had to go to be based in Europe. By then you were twenty years old and old enough to live by yourself. Growing up in Daegu, Korea since you were six, you felt as if Korea was home to you and you definately weren’t ready to leave yet.

Especially, after losing your parents here. Around eight years old, your aunt and mother were on the way to pick up your father from the airport. With your mom and dad also being military and based in Korea with your dad’s bestfriend, your uncle Charlie, your father had been called to take military leave to go and be based in Korea for the National Guard.

On the way back from the airport, a drunk driver had struck the car knocking them off the road and colliding head first into the railing of the bridge. All bodies were reported dead upon collision, including your aunt. Charlie didn’t take the news well at all, and so did you. Only eight years old and still a bit new to a foreign country. It was devistating for you and Charlie. Charlie did what was right and stepped up to be your legal guardian while taking some time off from the military. Till this day, he treats you like his sacred little daughter and you can’t ask for anyone better than him.

“You are old enough to live on your own and housing is avail-”

You jump at his voice on the line again, being too spaced out from the tragic memory. Before he can go on any longer you cut him off. ‘‘ Im fine with the apartment you left me. Im paying the bills on time and taking good care of it.”

‘‘ Alright fine. But that option is always available you hear me? I will always be ready for you to come with me.’’

‘‘ Okay Charlie” You groan.

‘‘ Alright.. sweetie it’s getting late on this side and it’s already 3 am on your side. Get some sleep okay? Don’t you have a model shoot thingy or something? You have those a lot.’‘

‘‘ Yes i actually do in a couple of hours. It’s been a while since I’ve did a shoot. Please eat and sleep well. Don’t injure yourself.’‘

‘‘ I promise. You promise to do the same right?’‘ He says, rustling movements are in the background.

‘‘ Yes I promise. Good night sleep tight..’‘ You smile as you wait for him to finish the rest.

He chuckles one last time on the other end, ‘‘I’ll always love you, goodnight‘’

Beep Beep Beep

You in a racy light pink lingerie with white duvets and sheets is the concept of your comeback. It’s supposed to symbolize the “Night After’’. Camera’s click and directors yell and praise you in your subtle yet damaging moves and facial expressions. You want.. no need for this comeback to be successful. Not only did your manager schedule this, but she is making sure that they release this same very day.

Nobody in this company’s industry has ever did this before. But you, you are sort of the special one. The special foreigner as they say. It’s not like you don’t like it but you don’t like that they label you as that. Stylists, employee’s hell even anybody who works there treat you as a princess. It’s not bad, but it’s just weird.

‘‘ One last one. Give me a sexy yet innocent look mama.’‘ Elliot, the director says, smiling wide at you.

You slip a finger into your mouth and do a little pout with your lips.

Elliot busts out into a roar of happiness with his hands clapping furiously. ‘‘That’s it mama yes! That’s just what we needed!’‘

Adjusting his microphone earpiece, he turns around to greet and thank everyone, ‘‘ Alright everybody this concludes our shooting! You all worked so hard today. Make it home safe, eat well.’‘

Finally. You sigh out in relief and close your eyes. It’s been a long day. Almost 6 hours of shooting. Three Videos, and five swap outfits for each session of shooting for the ‘’ Night After’’. As everyone heads out and starts cleaning up you bow your head slightly and thank them.

A stylist brings you a satin robe to cover yourself in. You thank her and put it on just before getting up from the bed and walking towards wardrobe. Once you are done putting on your clothes, your manager leads you straight out the exit. Outside awaits the car that drives you everywhere. Literally everywhere.

‘‘ Tomorrow somebody has put in a special request for you to appear as the main lead girl in their music video. It’s short notice and I told them I would have to bump some things around and notify you. But they are paying us and you good money to be in it.’‘

Money? Sounds like a plan.

‘‘ It’s fine. Who am I shooting for?’‘ You say, fluffing your hair just a little while inspecting yourself in the rear view mirror.

Your makeup is still intact with no ruins and the contacts they had given you suited you very well. A hazel with a slight bit of teal. Suddenly the car moves off into the busy streets of Seoul. You can’t help but to notice every couple that walks along the sidewalks. They seem so happy, glad to be around each other.

On the floor of the car lies your little mini backpack filled with all of your items and belongings. Picking it up, you begin to dig through it looking for some hand lotion to soothe your semi-dry hands. Once you find it you gently start to squeeze the tube.

‘‘ Kim Namjoon.’‘

You freeze. Namjoon? The same Namjoon from the group? Joonie? It’s been well… a year since you’ve seen him in person. Hell since you’ve seen all of Bangtan Sonyeondan together. Except for lastnight when Hoseok and.. that guy showed up.

You sigh already knowing the answer from the question you are about to ask.

‘‘ From…?’‘ You ask then put the lotion back in your bag. Slowly you rub your hands together to moisturize.

Your manager quickly flips through the daily planner, ‘‘ Bangtan Sonyeodan but this is for one of his mixtape songs.’‘

Thank goodness.

‘‘ That’s fine. What time will the car be arriving tomorrow?’‘

‘‘ 8 am on the dot. You need to be there by 8:30. I’ll be tending to one of my other models tomorrow so you will be alone. I can send som-’‘

‘‘ No no it’s truly okay. I know how to manage things myself. Besides, I learn from you.’‘ You reassure her with one of your winning smiles, laying your head on her shoulder.

‘‘ Aigoo what am I going to do with you?’‘

The day ends very well. The movies you’ve been watching have kept you occupied. But not occupied enough for you to keep crying at all the sad parts in the chick flicks. Breakups, someone had died, someone had even just spilled something onto the floor and that was enough to send you into tears.Only because when the main lead boy rushed to help clean it up, it reminded you of Jimin last-night helping Isabel.

‘’What is going on with myself.’’ You blow your nose into a tissue for what seemed like the thousandth time today. Clara lets out one of her meows beside you then goes back to grooming herself.

You place her onto your lap and begin to run your fingers through her fur over and over again. Such a soothing effect to you as you stare into space sulking in your thoughts.

Why is it that you weren’t enough for him? Why is it that every single little thing reminds you of him? You gave him your all and he gave you his but what happened? Where did you go wrong? Cooked, cleaned, satisfied his needs. You guys had even started to plan out what you wanted out of a family. When you wanted a baby and what you would name it. It was fun. The whole relationship was fun. Right until that scandal.

Ding.. Ding.. Ding.. DI-

You unlock your phone immediately to stop that annoying dinging noise. Not surprisingly it’s a text from Jeon Jungkook.

Kookie : Im coming over I’ll be there in exactly 3 minutes.

Kookie: Don’t think about leaving either.

Kookie: Im bringing someone with me.

Kookie: We need to have a serious talk babycheeks.

You roll your eyes at the nickname he’s given you. No matter how many times you tell him you want him to change it, he declines. There’s no point in asking anymore.

Why would he want to talk anyways and who is the person he’s bringing. Eh.. it might just be Ryan they seem to do everything together as a team.

As soon as you step foot out of your bed the sound the door clicking makes your head shoot up. How in the living hell does he know the password to your house? Rage takes over you. That’s something that you hate. When people invade your personal space. In this case, personal home.

‘‘ Jeon fucking Jungkook!’‘ You scream, abruptly stomping your feet all the way to and out your bedroom door. Suddenly you stop at the sight of the two faces staring back at you.

Jungkook’s expression holds a concerned yet upset face while the other just stands there calm and cool. But you on the other hand are way besides that level.

Your eyes must be filled with rage and the expression on your face is no good. How dare he disrespect you like that? Bringing him into your home, knowing the bad blood between you two. Oh, they both have something coming towards them. You begin to walk to them again making each step make the floor shake.

‘‘ Get out. Both of you. One you invade my personal private home..’‘

You grab both boys by their collars, making sure to grip the one on the right’s harder than usual. ‘‘ Two, you fucking invite him over here.’‘ You drag each of them towards the exit. Which is going good until Jungkook rips your hands away from his shirt and takes you over his shoulder.

You’ve had enough of him and his invasive ways. Pounding on his back with your fists, you make sure to scream into his ear. “ Put me the fuck down Jeon Jungko-”

You hiss at the stinging sensation on your ass. Did he just? Jimin stands there awkwardly rubbing the back of his neck. You make sure to make eye contact with him and roll your eyes. Something that always had and will piss him off.

‘‘ Hush. I told you all of us needed to have a deep talk about you.’‘

Jungkook plops your frail body onto one side of the couch in which he sits next to you. He motions for Jimin to come sit across from the both of you but you aren’t having it.

‘‘ Don’t you do it.” You glare at him. Jungkook sighs harshly only to pluck your forehead two times. You whine and rub it with your index and middle finger.

Jungkook shakes his head in disapproval, ‘‘ When are you ever going to learn? Jimin sit down now.”

‘‘ Truthfully.. I feel as though I shouldn’t be here so-”

“ Good. Get out you are unwanted.” You snap back causing him to give you one of his long stares with no facial expression at all.

Jungkook glares at you just before getting up to throw his hands in the air full of disappointment. “ Enough! “

Yelling. Something else you don’t like to hear being done at yourself. You finally sit still and quite avoiding any eye contact with the both of them.

He sits back down and clears his throat. Jungkook gives Jimin a look before continuing on.

‘‘ I gathered us here to talk about you..”

‘‘ Why. Im fine. How many times do I have to say it. Im fine im fine im fine im fucking fine!’‘ You exclaim, getting more mad by the second. When will people accept this?

‘‘ Baby.. ’‘

Your eyes shoot up to him and his soft voice. You didn’t want to but you did because his voice to you is like candy that melts into your mouth.

‘‘ Don’t call me that. You have a girlfriend at-least be loyal to her rather than what you did to me.’‘

‘‘ Fuck is anybody going to just sit here and listen? Can we at-least get to the source of the problem? Huh?’‘ Jungkook leans back into the couch clearly pissed by your attitude.

Jimin’s the first to speak and holds a firm eye contact with you, almost daring you to break away from it.

‘‘ Fine. Im just going to cut straight to it then. Why are you so jealous? You aren’t okay at all. I seen the way you looked at us yesterday. You wanted to break down so bad but you didn’t. It looks like you’ve been dropping weight day by day why aren’t you eating well?’’

You’re taken a-back by his jealous comment. Although you are you just cannot admit it. You are jealous. You do want him back. You cant bear to see him with another girl but you. But the fact that Jimin is concerned makes you really hope. Just hope that there is something left of you still in his heart.

‘‘ Jealous? Jealous tuh.” You scoff, leaning into Jungkook’s arms where you rest his head on your chest. You only do this just to see Jimin’s reaction and by the look on his face he doesn’t enjoy that move one bit.

‘‘ Yes jealous. I mean why else would you put almond extra-

‘‘ Woah. No need to go there. We established that it was a so called accident lastnight.” Jungkook does finger quotes into the air and looks down at you.

You lift your head up and furrow your eyebrows in annoyance, “ So called? So you really believe that I did it on purpose. Wow Jungkook. Escort yourself out.’’

He sighs, wrapping his arms around you securly in hopes of you settling down a little, “ Honestly it’s not like that. I wasn’t there to see you bake them nor was I watching her eat it. Im just saying that you knew Jimin was coming and obviously his girlfriend was going to come too. It’s a little sketchy is all.”

There’s no fixing what he said. Him adding onto his explanation just made things sound worse than what he’s trying to say. You don’t have time to be ganged up on, nor like it at all. It’s best if they both just leave, to not turn nothing into something.

‘‘ Get out. Now. Before I call and tell Ryan what you said and then she’ll definitely deal with you.’‘ You say, removing yourself from off of him and onto the other side of the couch with your legs crossed.

Mad isn’t even the word to describe yourself right now. You’re just a mixture of all emotions.

Jungkook now looks of sorriness written all over his face. You bite your lip and shake your head while pointing towards the door. He sighs heavily and takes one last look at you while removing himself from the couch. You watch him slip on his coat and shoes.

Jimin gets up from his spot on the couch, ‘‘ I’ll be leav-”

‘‘ Sit down we aren’t done talking.”

He looks at you with his eyebrows furrowed, sitting back down slowly.

Jungkook keeps his head down as he wraps his blue scarf around his neck. Poor baby, but he shouldn’t of said it. “Please better yourself and talk it out with each-other. Im leaving.”

‘‘ Make it home safely.. Kookie.” You sigh once the door closes behind him. Now you’re here. Face to face with Park Jimin.

The same Jimin who cheated on you. The same Jimin you haven’t seen in a while. You take a few moments to take in his appearance. He seems to have re-gained his muscles that are peaking through his black, longsleeve shirt. His thighs are still thick, just like his luscious lips. Of course he changed his hair color to black. But who knows, he might change it again.

‘‘ You’ve been doing well?’‘ You say, voice low but enough for him to hear. You drop your eyes to your lap instead of keeping intact with his.

‘‘ Yes. But you have not. Im disappointed in you. Why are you doing this to yourself? Don’t do this because of me.”

‘‘ Jimin you don’t know the feeling. You don’t know how it feels to be left wondering why you weren’t good enough for someone. Why they had cheated on you. You don’t understand at all and wont ever.’‘ Your voice cracks on the last sentence and you an feel the lump in your throat become sore.

He bites his lip unsure of what to say next. Those words had hit him good inside. ‘‘ Im sorry. I truly am. But you know the reason why we had to end it. I fucked up bad and the media was making the scandal bigger and messier day by day. It was better to just call it off.’‘

One by one your tears start to drop. You nose begins it’s running trip but you sniffle it back up.

‘‘ You could of denied it. You know you could of made a statement and denied it. But you felt something for her didn’t you? Didn’t you?’‘ You semi-yell, sobs already starting to take it’s way over.

He bites his lip once again and ruffles his fingers through his hair, “ Baby..’’

You wipe your tears with your hands making your face even more puffy from the crying. “ I am jealous. I am I admit it Jimin. But do you know i have been suffering for one year and two months? I can’t sleep at night because im so used to your touch at night. I look at every couple in Seoul and think to myself, Dang they seem so happy. What’s their secret?’’

Jimin sits up, making eye contact with you with tears welling up into his eyes. It hurt’s you more than yourself to see him crying. It always has.

‘‘ Please don’t do that. Don’t do this to yourself. Please get help from someone to try and move on. Please. I don’t like to see or hear you make yourself suffer.’ He begs, getting up from his seat and coming towards you.

Jimin sits next to you, hesitantly opening his arms up to you. Would it be wrong to embrace him? He’s being too sincere, but thats what you want right? You decide to just do it, and lean into him only for him to pull you in closer into his chest.You just lay there crying and sobbing while he runs his fingers through your hair. You shouldn’t be doing this. He has a girlfriend. But it feels so right.

‘‘ What does she have that I don’t? Why couldn’t you love me the same way you love her “ You cry into his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears.

You’d been waiting for this moment to just let it out. Let everything out.

‘’ Please don’t make this harder than what it is right now. Just try and forget me and move on. Please.” Hypocritcal. How does he expect you to get over him when he’s the one whos holding you so tight right now. Soon enough his sniffles join yours in harmony.

You raise your head up and look him deep into the eyes while you wipe away his tears, “ Don’t cry Jimin. I’m the one supposed to be crying over you. Don’t cry.’’

He takes your hand away from his face and wraps his fist ontop of yours, “Please promise me you will move on okay?’’

You shake your head no, “ I can’t make that promise.”

He doesn’t say anything. He gently cradles you in his arms and lifts you up. You don’t think to where he is going. You just close your eyes and grab onto his shirt firmly not wanting to let go.

Soon enough you feel the cold sheets over your bed. He covers you in the duvet and leans down to your forehead. A kiss. Your fist is still locked onto his shirt in which he tries to pry it away but you don’t want to let him go. He sighs and raises his arms up as he takes off the shirt revealing an extra plain white wife beater under it. Taking your other hand, he wraps your hand into another fist onto the shirt to where both of your hands are holding onto it.

‘‘ Please better yourself for me baby. Sleep and eat well. “

Is all he says before turning off the lights and walking out your bedroom door. You can hear him putting on and zipping up his heavy coat but you just don’t make a sound.

The apartment door clicks and beeps letting you know he’s already gone.

333 notes · View notes

inviouswriting · 3 years

Text

Purr Purr~

Simeon x fem!reader

Smut.

Your feet move silently over the hardwood floors. You were trying not to make noise, the house is empty save for you and Simeon. Luke and Solomon invited on an outing with Barbatos and Diavolo. Leaving you and Simeon with the Purgatory Hall to yourselves. He suggested a fun version of hide and seek. He even gives you a costume to wear.

You are dressed in lingerie, a very sheer bodysuit with a lighter section at your abdomen, you noted how there is a hole at the crotch of it. On the back of it though is a long tail, dressed similar to a panther. You indulged Simeon’s desires, wearing black stockings with paw prints on the feet with matching arm gloves, topped with a headband with round ears to match the theme. You looked both cute and sexy in it, but before you could show Simeon. He had hid somewhere already, leaving a note for you to hide before he finds you, a special surprise will happen if he catches you.

So here you are trying to make as little noise as possible, not knowing where the angel is; as you try to figure out where he could be in the house. You try and think of the places he could be while figuring out the ideal spot for yourself. You settle on the library room, there is a good table in there to hide under.

As you tuck yourself underneath it, you make sure your tail and any part of you is not peeking out to give you away. The table has a sheet that hangs low enough, you could see feet if they went by, you position yourself in a way so you can see the door to the room. Excitement in your heart at what might entail for if you are caught by your angel.

Simeon was already walking through the halls, he had given you enough time to hide from him. He wanted to see you in the outfit he chose, but he also had a specific one he is wearing. He matched your panther with one of his own. He is wearing a black suit that is designed half like his top, and pants to fit it. A tail hangs low just like yours, but a little animated with his walking. Like you he wears socks with paw prints on the bottom, but no gloves. He wouldn’t need them when he caught you. On his head a rounded ear headband.

He listened to the doors when you opened and closed certain ones. He knows the sound of each door from his time there. You had thought of his room, and laughs to himself of how fast the chase would come to an end. He then focuses as you close the door to the library room quietly. You would never go into Luke or Solomon’s room without their permission, he would never disgrace their rooms either.

Simeon makes his rounds, first checking other rooms to make it look like he doesn’t know where you are. Your angel gives each room a look over, he finally opens the door of the library room, and you see his feet as he steps in. Gold paws under his feet, he is on his toes to reduce his footfalls. You clasp your hands over your mouth to keep from accidentally giggling.

He walks closer to the table, and almost dips low to check underneath the cloth. You shift just enough to where he peeks at the side he thought you were on only to see it vacant.

“Hmm... where is my mate...” He almost sounds heartbroken at missing you now. Yet you know he is grinning wide. You barely get privacy like this and you two were going to enjoy it. You quietly scoot over to the other side when he walks around the table to check the other side.

When he doesn’t see a sliver of you, he honestly thinks he has the wrong room, he could have sworn you were in here. You move enough to slip out from underneath the table, now you are just waiting for him to turn away. Simeon does, going towards the curtains in the room. Now was your chance.

You quickly get to your feet, and dash to the door of the room tossing it open to run out. Simeon jumps at how fast you move, but he caught a glimpse of the outfit on you and can’t wait to have you in his arms. He chases after, hearing you run back towards the living room.

Simeon sees your tail whip around the corner as he rounds the other side through the kitchen. You laugh giving him the slip hiding behind the door long enough for Simeon to go into the heart of the room. You slip back out and head towards the rooms again. You hear a very determined “wait!” from him.

Until you end up in a dead end, you forgot one of the halls ends this way. You didn’t have time to think when a pair of strong arms encircles around your waist and lifts you up.

“Caught you!” You go limp in his arms, and he chuckles as he places a kiss to your face.

“I was having fun!” You say faux dejected at being caught now. Simeon nuzzles the side of your face now.

“So am I, but don’t you want that surprise?” Simeon reminds you there is a reward in the end. You nod to him, and he sweeps his arm under your legs to lift you into them better. You let him carry you to his room, where you could indulge without the risk of being walked in on.

Once inside his room and it is locked, you are set onto your feet and turned to face him. You look up, and see that gleam in his eyes reserved for you when alone. You bite your own bottom lip looking at him, how the top fits him well, even has a faded spot on the belly exposing his abdomen.

Simeon takes you in, truly takes you in at seeing you dressed in the clothes he selected for you. He places a finger under your chin to tilt it up, so he can press a kiss to your lips. You return his kiss, feeling complete with him walking you backwards to the bed. He deepens the kiss with brushing the tip of his tongue to your lips and you part them so he can let him play with yours.

Your hands bunch in his top at how his kiss always makes your head spin with want for him. You smooth your fingers over his abdomen feeling the silky material along with the muscle of his abs letting your hands feel him. Simeon’s hands smooth down your shoulders to the front of your chest letting his palms smooth over your breasts his fingers dance over nipples making you push closer to his touch.

Simeon pulls back from the kiss to kiss down your face to your neck. You intake a larger breath of air feeling his teeth playfully graze along your neck. You press your hands along the hem of his pants, wanting to tug them off already. He takes your hands to let you slip them below the front, Simeon nibbles just below your ear before blowing a hot breath on it.

“My beautiful mate... would you let me take care of all your needs? I need you alot sooner than I want to admit...” Simeon catches your eyes with his, and you see his cheeks pink at saying he needs you. You nod and lean up to kiss him again, he dips his head to meet you in a sweet and loving one. It lasts long enough and your angel playfully pushes you onto the bed, you look up at him with your hands up and playfully “rawr” at him.

This gets a chuckle out of him, and he begins to undo the pants he has been wearing shoving them down. You allow your eyes to take in the fact underneath the top is one piece similar to his other tops, but one noticeable difference is like yours. There is a hole at the crotch and very see-through to see how hard he already is. He has been like this from the start of the game.

Simeon rawrs back in his way and promptly pounces onto you, you wriggle underneath him as his hands work their magic on you. Fingers teasing your nipples, rolling them between and under his thumb to get you to moan. A knee down to nudge your legs further apart, you feel cool heat as one of his hands slips down to spread your folds apart dipping his middle inside of you.

You part your legs more at his urging while his finger circles your clit in slow movements. You press down to the bed, and rock your hips up to meet his hand. He busies his mouth nibbling at your neck and gives one growl into your ear that he feels how it turns you on with how wetness coats two fingers now.

“Mmm... my mate seems to be in heat... must be painful without relief...” You whimper at his words, when his fingers leave you wanting more. Simeon ignores the pleading in your eyes, in favor of urging you onto your hands and knees with your legs apart. You feel the opening of the bodysuit being arranged right at your pussy.

“Stay like that for me.” Simeon instructs as he kneels behind you. You thought he was about to penetrate you, you move your legs further apart to accommodate, only to be met with a tongue pressing a long languid lick from your clit to hole.

You jolt at the sudden feel of his tongue, your hands curling on the bedsheets when you feel him drag his tongue back down to press the full flat against your clit. You moan out when Simeon focuses his attention on your clit, sucking on it, his tongue swirling till your legs shake and you are dripping wet for him.

“Simeon!!” He leaves no spot untouched by his mouth. Kisses, licks, him enjoying the look of your folds spreading when he drags his tongue through them. You push your hips towards him when he pushes it inside your pussy thrusting it in a few times while he tastes and pleases you.

Simeon moves the fabric covering his erection to allow it through the hole, and starts to stroke himself. He can never get enough of how you taste so sweet. You are more than wet enough for him, and your panther aches to feel you around him.

You see him shift to grab something from the night-stand. You frown seeing a condom, and reach a hand over to take it from him. He looks at you as you shyly look away.

“I’m your mate right? Don’t you want to properly mate me?” You look over your shoulder to him, and Simeon tilts his head as he thinks it over. Being given permission to go all out with you.

“You mean breed you? I’d love to. You sure?” He gives the option to you, you two use protection on and off, but there are some days where you want to feel his cum drip from you. Today being one of those days.

“Of course I am sure... please... mate me, breed me... love me...” You hoped you didn’t sound to needy to him, your face burns in embarrassed at saying it. There is a shift behind you as Simeon raises a bit higher but lowers your waist to level with his.

Simeon felt harder with your words, he longs to see you full of him, full of his seed dripping down your thighs. He also wants to breed you well, and he intends to make sure he does that with the time alotted to both of you.

So without a second thought, you feel the plush tip of his dick press to your entance. You curl your toes feeling him push inside, you move your hands up to grab his pillow and bury your face into it to muffle your voice. He is quick to pull it away.

“I need to hear your voice.” Simeon presses his front to your back as he leans over you. He keeps his hands at your waist to keep them still as he bottoms out inside. The angle he has you in, you almost feel him at your belly.

Your angel pulls his hips back till the head crests at your opening then shoves back in a bit faster and harder than his initial push in. You let out your voice in contented sighs feeling him start to thrust. You feel little puffs of hot breath at the back of your neck where Simeon rests his head against.

“You feel so good... I want to be deeper...” His next thrust in he pushes in till his balls are nestled against your pussy and hit against your clit when he pushes back in. You sneak a hand underneath to rub your clit in turn to his movements.

Simeon lifts himself up, he is wilder in his thrusts, his eyes lower down to watch as his cock buries into your pussy seeing how dark skin is swallowed by pink. How you are stretched around him, even the subtle way you squeeze him. He sees your fingers and takes over for you. You feel his hand on top of yours from underneath help rub your clit with your hand.

“Simeon.... please.... Simeon... please!” He hears you, and knows you mean the position. Your hips getting sore from the way he has you. He shifts both of you, strewning one of your legs over his waist so he fits well on your sides. He plants one of his hands at your waist guiding you to rock to him, while his other hand underneath rolls and toys with your clit.

You turn your head to seek him for a kiss, and moan out when his lips meet yours as he collects your juices to rub your clit more fluidly. Simeon soon lifts the leg that is over his waist and holds it up as he thrusts wild, you even hear him pant, feeling him twitch wildly inside you. The throb you feel you tease him with squeezing your walls around him drawing out a high moan from your angel.

“Gonna... breed you... going to fill you full... till you have cubs.” He plays on the roles still, but the way he says it in your ear. You feel a fang of his almost dig into it. He feels so hot inside, you put a hand down to where you are connected with him. Your fingers feel around his cock when he pulls back, when he thrusts in you rub at his balls till he snags your hands to hold onto them, a sign he is about to cum soon.

Simeon manages to get you on your knees again, both of his hands grip your waist pulling you into each of his hard thrusts. You let loud cry after cry leave your mouth with the way the sac hits your clit again till you scream out in your orgasm.

Your angel grips your waist harder as he thrusts through your walls tightening down on him till a groaned out cry of his own sounds out in the quiet room. You feel hot flood into you in an explosive orgasm from Simeon that even has cum spilling out around his dick. He pushes in as deep as he gets and rests there buried full, the tip of his cock just against your cervix.

Simeon lays across your back after tugging your waist to be comfortable. He moves a hand to grab one of yours to squeeze in his hand. He kisses the side of your face and you feel protected and well loved by him.

You stay connected for a bit longer, Simeon even softly thrusts inside, using just the size of himself to please you a little longer until he actually gets hard again and ravishes you twice. Pulling from you on the second time to flip you onto your back and sink into you to thrust hard and fast. Using your sensitivity to draw another orgasm out of you till you squirt on his cock.

The second romp is much more intimate than the first one, he is loving you with raw emotions. Kissing over your face, checking if you are okay with him. Pulling from you after he finished inside and uses his hand to massage the sore muscle of your thighs.

“Feeling alright, my lamb?” The roles now taken off, you loop your arms around his neck to pull him in for a sweeter kiss than the needy ones you had earlier.

“I feel amazing... you always make me feel so good... can we play like this again?” You look hopeful.

“Of course! I have another costume for you to wear... if you’ll indulge me again like this. I mean after all... you are my mate for life.” You blush at his words and playfully shove him for being sweet. He only nuzzles your face with his own. Little laughs escape you both when he runs his hands on your sides to tickle you.

“Let’s get you into a bath, so I can take care of the bed. We made a mess.” You nod, letting him collect you into his arms to carry you to his bathroom. You look forward to cuddling with your angel. You also secretly wish that he is successful in a future child. Would they have his eyes and skin? Or a mix of you both.

“I love my panther.” You say idly when he washes your hair.

“And I love my mate.” You return washing his hair till you both are equally clean and satisfied that when you are back on his bed he has every part of you pressed against him to feel how soft you are.

Fingers exploring in a way that is not sexual, his fingers touching along your arms, a subtle squeeze on a hip. You mirror his touches till both of you are combing through hair and teasing taps on the other’s nose to kisses shared under the blanket.

You wonder what other costume he has for you. You won’t know until he shows it to you.

#simeon #simeon x reader #simeon angel #shall we date simeon #simeon smut #shall we date obey me #obey me simeon #simeon x fem!reader #invi's obey me smuts #I would have written this yesterday but I was so tired after work

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mandoinevarro · 3 years

Text

NO APPOINTMENT, NO MEETING

Rule Maker, Rule Breaker: Chapter 4

Chapter 1 Chapter 2 Chapter 3

Words: 9.4k

Rating: E

Warnings: so ok descriptions of blood (it’s only one sentence and I don’t think it’s too bad but just in case), remembering trauma/triggering memories, angst. now for the fun part: SMUT, one (1) thigh spank, a sprinkle of dirty talk, a dash of praise kink, spitting, oral (f receiving), vaginal sex, maybe cockwarming but for like two minutes

a/n: happy 2021!!! only one chapter left after this one so enjoy. for the hornies who only want fun and sexy times: scroll to the bottom and work your way up, smut is like 3/4 in.

……………

In the blue morning light, Nevarro is almost beautiful.

The deserted lava fields spread in flat terrain as far as the eye can see, bumps and dips where magma cooled creating waves like a black ocean. Among the tide, obsidian turtle shells shimmer like dark mirrors, where Din Djarin studies his face. It startled him when he crawled from the tent to take the pram inside; when he glanced at the ground and the ground glanced back. His face cloudy and warped by irregular volcanic rock, he barely recognized it. It’s not rare for his features to blur in his memory sometimes, especially when he’s out working for days at a time unable to catch a glimpse of himself. Vanity is not one of his many shortcomings—hiding your face for decades is a mighty vaccine against it.

But today something’s different. The reflection peering up at him belongs to a stranger. Relaxed eyebrows, a hooked nose (has the curved always been so pronounced?), lips that faintly curl up. Content brown eyes. His mirrored counterpart is a sentient being below him, plump with blood and oxygen. Alive.

He looks happy.

However, morning weighs heavily on Din, he can see it in the bags below his eyes. It stings like a hangover, like the only hangover he ever had, back when he was an eighteen-year-old idiot and used the credits of his first bounty to get a flask of spotchka from some seedy bar. He remembers sitting in his crammed quarters at the old Covert, chugging the bottle on his own, methodically forcing himself to swallow against the burn. Waiting. Waiting for the alchemy to kick in, for the magic toxins that flushed drunks’ faces, lubricant that oiled their scowls into easy smiles. Waiting to feel what everyone else felt, just for a moment.

Lifting his head, Din peers ahead. Shadows of the city’s buildings creep above the horizon like a bad omen. The opposite of a promised land. Hunchbacked buildings stain the blue-gray sky, abruptly interrupt the intricate lava patterns, Nevarro the planet versus Nevarro the city. Din’s stomach crumples. One, maybe two hours by foot. One, maybe two hours, and last night will fade into a distant memory, a collection of ghost sensations.

But not yet. Right now, last night is still real. You are still real.

Crawling back into the tent, he licks his lips for the millionth time today. He can still taste you: that thick, salty-bitter taste, so much better than he could’ve imagined. He hopes it stays on his lips for a long time; or, at least, that he can replace it soon.

Inside, you’re curled up with his cape, a blooming bruise above your shoulder peeking out, the baby’s pram hovering next to you. He sits down, careful not to awake either of you, and runs a finger down your shoulder, feels the skin prickle. He buries his nose on the back of your hair and inhales: rain and earth as usual, but his soap too, a part of him that clings to you. Lips on the crook of your neck, Din smells himself on you, wonders if you’ll want to wash his scent away, or if you’ll want it to stay on you. You stir, your soft exhales gain a rasp. Din smiles. You do snore, after all.

He’ll have to wake you soon. He knows. He knows. You need to talk about last night. You need to have the frank conversation that you’ve both been postponing for way too long, back when you floated in dead space, no deadlines, no rush at all to make decisions. But things have changed, and he knows what he wants now, and he knows it can’t wait. Yet every time his fingers brush your shoulder to nudge you awake, he pulls them back. He’s never seen you so peaceful, not moving except for your expanding and contracting chest, the light fluttering of your lashes. All the fight in your body gone, those tall bridges around you down and inviting. So different from when he met you.

If there’s one thing Din’s good at, it’s sniffing out trouble. He had to be, if he wanted to make it in the Fighting Corps. In the Bounty Hunter’s Guild. He can sweep a room with a mental black light, spot the people who flare up white and bright, the ones he needs to stay away from—or approach, depending on the situation. And that day at the cantina, the first time he laid eyes on you? You glowed with it. Talking big game in Karga’s booth, laughing with your pretty smile and shuffling cards, you beamed with trouble, bright as radiation and just as dangerous. What needed to happen was clear as day. The Mandalorian needed to turn on his heels immediately, strut out of that bounty hunter hive without a second look, and never, ever, ask about you.

He’d been there before.

Mandalorians, despite common belief, are not made of beskar. Not on the inside, at least. They’re all warm blooded organics, burdened with flesh and internal organs and skeletons; pain and pleasure receptors. Older Mandalorians cautioned younger ones when they came of age and finished their training, when they were ready to become providers. Tall stern warriors, his superiors, warned that there would be temptation, situations that would make him doubt the Way. “Even the briefest taste,” Din’s former Alor said with that cavernous voice he had, “can be the point of no return.” And he was right.

Outside the Covert, there was so much…stimuli. Voices and colors and movement, a twenty-four-hour beehive, the galaxy buzzed and vibrated to no end. It was equally wonderous and grotesque, like a circus. The strenuous noises that rattled his ribcage, the strong smells, the different food, his senses had never felt more exhausted. The faces…stars, the faces. How muscles stretched in a big smile, the glint of teeth, the deep creases between eyebrows that signaled anger. Always moving, always changing, Din hadn’t seen so many uncovered heads since he was a child. His first few weeks outside he’d stare at people for hours until they scurried away or tried to fight him. Tried.

Then, when the initial shock wore out, he noticed other details. The way children’s eyes filled with admiration when they’d look at their parents, how that dimpled girl in Alderaan would blush and stutter whenever he bought something from her stall. And Din would wonder, despite all warnings, what it’d feel like to be one of them. To share so much of himself with the outside world. With time, curiosity morphed into obsession, obsession into desperation, and soon enough he found himself with Rand and the others, running rampant in an already chaotic galaxy.

One war, two decades, and a thousand regrets later, the curiosity died down. The helmet helped him tune out the outside world, made it easier to retreat into his memories. The galaxy seemed duller by the day, emptier. Lonelier, though he didn’t dwell on it.

That is, until he met you.

Until his resolve circled the drain and he asked Karga who you were and where to find you, walked into your store without an idea of what he’d say. Behind the counter, eyes shining and that silky voice asking what you could do for him, you reset the galaxy for him. Every time he visited you felt like his first day outside all over again.

But last night—that was stronger, set in stone. It felt like commitment. Something was born last night, something burgeoned in his chest and took root. Din can feel the fullness in his body, like he grew an extra limb, similar to the swell that tangled in his insides when he went back for the kid. He doesn’t have a name for it yet, but it reminds him of the day he swore the Creed. The fresh sense of purpose, the carved-out path in front of him, knowing what needs to be done:

When the siege is over, he’ll take you with him.

“Are you watching me sleep?” you mumble, cotton mouthed. “Kinda creepy.”

Din chuckles, then remembers. Stars, his heart stops beating for a second. Dread and natural reflexes throw his palm whip fast over your closed eyes. Maker. What the hell was he thinking, sitting next to you without the helmet. Maker, one second too late and you could’ve opened your eyes and—

“Didn’t see anything. Promise,” you say with a smile and pull his cape over your face. “Cover up.”

He pats around for the helmet (where the hell did he drop it last night?), finds it abandoned by your feet. When he fits it around his head, the familiar padding hugging his skull, he swears it feels heavier than it did yesterday.

“You decent?”

“Yeah.”

You lower the pseudo blanket, sleepy eyes and easy smile. As if you purposefully want to make it harder for him to strike up a conversation. But do I really need to— Yes. Yes, he does. He has to know where you stand and ask the big question: If you’d be willing to leave with him once the siege is lifted. Stars, his hands are sweating. But he can’t imagine you’d say no. Not after last night.

“Listen…”

As if on cue, whimpers and sniffles float from the closed pram. Great timing, kid. The baby’s ears droop like wilting leaves when Din places him on the ground, and the little bundle waddles with his eyes cast down until he reaches your ankle.

“What is it, kiddo?” you ask softly, your voice gentler than Din’s ever heard, sitting up as you hug his cloak tighter around your shoulders.

“I think…” Din begins, watching the baby sniffle and hug your bandaged calf. “I think he’s apologizing.”

A pair of eight-ball eyes blink at you, shiny with unshed tears, and Din feels an ache deep in his chest. This sweet little kid, all he’s been put through…

“Oh, don’t worry,” you coo, as one of your hands wriggles out the cloak and cradles the baby’s cheek. Your thumb brushes away a fat tear. “I’m tougher than your dad.” You wink at Din: Just kidding. But it’s true. Living in this planet for so long, all on your own. “Tough” is a survival skill for you, not a choice.

Also…dad. He should probably correct you. Din is not the kid’s real father, even though he’s caught himself thinking about the baby as his son once or twice, when he’s not too aware of his inner monologue. But he can’t bring himself to tell you the truth. Actually, he belongs to a race of wizards that I’ve been quested to deliver him to. Can’t adopt him if I’ll eventually give him up. Not when the kid’s shedding quiet tears into your leg and you’re doing your best to soothe him. Nevarro’s not child friendly, and Din can’t imagine you’ve got much practice with baby stuff, but he can tell you’re doing your best. And that’s enough to spread warmth through his chest.

What a troop you must make: Mandalorian bounty hunter, black market dealer, magic green baby. You could set up a three-person circus and retire. Yet the image tugs at a memory tucked away in his mind, something familiar but blurred.

His rumination’s cut short when Din notices the kid’s pudgy hands extending strategically on either side of your right leg, his eyelids beginning to flicker. Shit, shit, shit.

“She forgives you,” he tells the kid hastily as he scoops him and lays him on the open pram. He doesn’t need to be the little womprat’s real father to tell he was about to whip out his favorite party trick: healing witch powers. So far it doesn’t look like it permanently harms him, but it does weaken him, and Din can’t take chances. Plus, he skipped the part about the baby having supernatural powers when he told you his story, and there’s not a hell of a lot of ways one can explain fresh wounds disappearing.

“So,” you say after the baby’s settled in his pod. “What are we going to do,” you start, and Din’s throat knots with dread and excitement, “about the jammer.”

Oh. Stars, straight to business

“You said you have one.”

“I said I might have one,” you answer, grabbing for your discarded skirts. You fumble with them under the cloak, one hand clasped tight around it. It’s funny—after everything you’ve shared, you won’t undress in front of him during the day. “I mean, jammers aren’t picky like motors, they’re more one-size-fits-all.”

“But we still have to rewire it,” Din completes, wiping dry drool from the kid’s cheek with his thumb.

“Right.” Holding the cloak with your chin while you clasp your tunic, you seem to slowly draw your way out of a maze. That restless abacus in your head adding and subtracting. Your brows relax, and Din knows you’ve figured it out. “But I’ve got my equipment in my workshop, and we’d save time not having to remove it from a ship. And, no offense, but the Crest’s jammer was an antique. Way more complicated than newer models.” You finish dressing and hand him the cloak. “Only problem is the potential trooper stakeout outside the store.”

“I’ll take care of troopers.” Din takes the cloak and hesitates. It’s day nine, that time bomb still ticks in his head. Could it be that easy? Could you really do all this in one day? “What if we don’t finish on time?”

“Then,” you say, “we’ll figure something out.”

We, Din thinks, and smiles. Somehow, that’s all the reassurance he needs.

≈

Nevarro couldn’t look more deserted if tumbleweed rolled in the streets. The city’s a populated ghost town, no man’s land that’s filled with men. Well, men is a strong word. How did Viszla put it that time? We live hidden like sand rats. Yes, rats seems more fitting. Packs of them, scurrying around the former Covert, stealing Mandalorian armor to be bartered for scraps. Karga didn’t have to spell it out when he told him about people finding the Covert. Mando is familiar with the ways of the Outer Rim: Anything unclaimed is up for the taking, and beskar’s too tempting to resist. Knowing doesn’t make his blood boil any less, though. If Din focuses, he can almost hear their squeaking echoing from the sewers, the scavengers of this gray rock serving themselves to the abandoned armor of his people.

Movement to the left. The Mandalorian draws his blaster and bars you with his forearm, to see…a tunic. A short tunic. Tiny red lights. A Jawa. He exhales and sheathes the blaster. Stars. With the vembrance turned off, he has to rely on bare eyesight to scan for danger.

The Jawa drags a sleigh behind him. On it lies a dead or unconscious trooper (it makes no difference to these creatures), its gloved fingers drawing traffic lines on the mud and ash of unpaved streets. Red stars below the cowl focus on you for half a second, the bounty hunter’s hand approaches his blaster, and…

…and the Jawa waves at you, says “hello” in its squeaky language. You wave back, smiling, and the lump of shadow continues on its way. A neighborly gesture that in this context is plain bizarre.

“Old friend of yours?” Mando asks, walking again.

“Associate,” you correct, running a finger along the kid’s left ear until it twitches and he giggles. “Jawas scavenge parts straight from the wreckage, eliminate the middle man. And they don’t report to the New Republic.”

You mean steal from the wreckage, Din almost says, but bites it back. He supposes he can’t judge you for trading with Jawas. Prospects on the Outer Rim are bleaker than ever, and everyone’s got to eat. Especially during a siege.

Maker, sometimes he can’t believe he convinced himself to leave you here. Marooned in the type of place Core World citizens only talk about with shaking heads and disapproving voices. The type of place that makes people feel better about their lives, because hey, it could be worse, at least I don’t live in Nevarro. Granted, Din didn’t know then there’d be a siege. After the fight, after he bid goodbye to Cara and Karga, he hovered on the atmosphere for longer than was safe, gazing down at your store’s roof from the Razor Crest’s cockpit. His head a seesaw, weighing his options and unable to make a decision. You were still so close. He could fly back down to the surface, knock on your door, and take you away with him like he did with the kid.

Would you say yes? Reject him?

But most importantly: what about his quest? What kind of life would you lead travelling with him, a fugitive of the Empire and the New Republic? Life for Din has been defined by survival. Every day he’s had to get up and fight; fight to an inch of his life, fight with concussions, frostbite, shattered ribs. Knife wounds, blaster wounds. Personal wounds. He didn’t want that for you. You’re young, clever, resourceful. After that day, maybe you’d decide Nevarro was too dangerous. Maybe you’d pay your passage on a cruiser and start over in the Core Worlds, make your luck own there. Find a good man, if that’s what you wanted.

So he started the thrusters—the same ones he bought from you so long ago—and jumped into hyperspace with a semi clear conscience. This was best for everyone. You probably wouldn’t have accepted his offer, anyway. For five months he lived with his decision. And then he learnt about the siege.

In the sky, a string of river pearls forms a pattern like a necklace. Imperial cruisers, tie fighters, every ship that Guideon commands, solemnly presiding over Nevarro, itching to shoot down runaways. They’re too far up in the atmosphere to make out anyone in the surface, but Mando grabs your arm and coaxes you behind him all the same, his grip on the pram tighter. The memory of that imp’s blaster on your forehead is still too fresh. The dried blood on your legs.

Din glances back at you briefly. You catch his eye and smile—not grin, not smirk—but smile, a pretty, kind smile that would put to shame any of the imaginary Naboo girls you were so worked up about two nights ago. He should know, he’s been to Naboo, and none of the women there had your kaleidoscopic face, those hints of life that send his pulse on a sprint. The Mandalorian wonders what else you could be hiding under that sharp tongue, behind those clever eyes.

“Mando,” you call and point at a blackened mass to your right. “Nursery’s this way.”

All buildings in Nevarro emerge from volcanic rock, pushing away from clumps of hardened magma. They’re half-manmade, half-volcano hybrids—it’s a useful layout that gives their structure grip against constant earthquakes. It also, however, makes the buildings look like tumors growing on the navel of an ill planet. Your store’s the only one that’s never looked malignant, more like a sprouting flower than a parasite.

And now, the cantina too. Burned to a crisp, blacker than night, the former Church of Nevarro seems to have been swallowed by its unwilling host: the volcanic rock it was built upon. It’d be near impossible to know there’s a cantina inside, if not for the wide window peering inside. And it’s far from impossible for you or Mando, who know by heart where all the doors stand. He pushes one open for you, and together you walk inside.

“Thumb on the bottom, middle and ring fingers on the top, index to the side,” instructs Cara from behind the cantina’s crisp black counter. “The other side.”

Greef Karga sits on a stool opposite her, fumbling with a deck of cards. “Got it. Then what?”

“Then…” The veteran moves aside a flask of ardees and places a matching deck on the bar. “Pressure with your index, release the thumb.” She acts out her instructions and creates an arched ribbon spread on the surface. The Mandalorian can’t remember the last time he walked into the cantina and didn’t see the hypnotic patterns on cards, didn’t hear the wing-flapping noise of their shuffle. Although if he thinks about it, it makes sense that sabacc is the local sport around here. Dumb luck is the only god in the Outer Rim, where inhabitants gaze perpetually at their uncertain future and never look back. Tomorrow they’ll get a better hand, yesterday’s lost credits are forgotten. Everyone here seems to shed their past like snake skin.

“Nice spread, Dune,” you call. Greef and Cara follow your voice, realize they have visitors. “You should job hunt at Canto Bight.”

“Oh yeah?” replies the ex-shock trooper with an impish grin, both elbows on the counter and a rag over her shoulder, all bartender swagger. “What do you know about Canto Bight, hot stuff? Heard you’ve never been off this rock.” She spies a sly glance at Mando, enough to confirm that she’s annoying him on purpose, openly flirting with you. He squares his stance, rolls the helmet to pin her down with the visor, but (he really should know this by now) it does little to intimidate her.

“No trash talk before nightfall, ladies,” quips Karga, walking towards the pram. “And certainly not in front of babies. Hello, little one!” Said little one coos and lifts his skinny arms to be lifted by the Guild Leader, who sits back down delighted at having the baby’s favor, the little rascal on his lap. “He likes me!” Greef Karga smiles wide, flashing those white glinting teeth that’ve always reminded Din of a wolf’s. He’s not happy to leave the kid here, but he can’t take him if there’s a stakeout in your store. Beggars can’t be choosers and so on. But Cara’s here, and Din knows he can trust her with the baby. Though not with you, evidently.

“Tell you what, Mando,” Cara continues, apparently not done peacocking around you. “We arm wrestle, just like last time. Winner gets a flask of spotchka and the opportunity to take the lady to Canto Bight after you lift the siege.”

“Help us lift the siege and I’ll consider winning that flask.”

Dune lets out an long whistle, giving you a complicit look. “Big words.”

Your eyes rake along the Mandalorian’s armor slowly, boots to helmet, a dark tint in your eyes. Din flushes, the oppressive heat of his clothes suddenly thicker.

You shrug and answer, “Big man.” Your fingertips dance idly around the nape of your neck, which makes Mando think about last night, about his tongue on your neck and the purple bruises he sucked, the salty taste of flesh, the heady one between your legs. The memory steers blood into…into awkward places. Which, knowing you, was your intention. Maker, he needs to talk to you about teasing him in public.

“Help you how?” asks Greef, lifting the baby into the counter, whose six little claws hold on to two of his gloved fingers.

“Look after the kid, we won’t be more than a few hours.”

“Sure thing!” booms Karga, at the same time as Cara says, “Fuck no.”

You fold your arms at the veteran. “You scared of an infant, Dune? It’s only one of him, and…” you squint at the cantina’s black shell, like something’s out of place in its burned remains, “…two of you. Where’s—” you start, before glancing at Mando and swallowing the second half.

“Duma?” supplies Karga, tapping the corners of the deck on the counter. “Don’t know, probably boiling beskar to make broth. Rumor has it she’s running out of supplies, fast. Did you ever take her up on that deal?”

Your eyes shoot vibroblades at him, your mouth a flat line.

“What deal?” Mando asks.

“Nothing,” you reply, still glaring warnings at Karga, who sighs, shakes his head, and tickles the baby’s tummy. The kid giggles and kicks half the deck off the counter. “Nothing important. We should get going.”

Outside, you guide the Mandalorian through a maze of back alleys, the ugly underbelly of a planet that’s already the galaxy’s own underbelly. Mando glues a palm to his blaster’s grip, lifting it only as muscle memory to turn on the vembrance and activate the setting to scan footprints, frustrated when he remembers his own piece of equipment would immediately snitch on him. Yet you glade past dark corners that beg for their own knife-brandishing mugger with the grace of someone frolicking in D’Qar’s moorlands, postcard-calm.

Once in your store’s backdoor, the Mandalorian ventures a glance at the front street. Empty. Like the rest of the city, it’s like curfew was declared, not an imp in sight. Certainly not a stakeout in process. Behind him, you push the door open, the busted security panel no more than a prop to discourage robbers.

“What?” you ask when he doesn’t walk inside.

“There’s nobody here,” he answers, studying the connecting alleys like a web of arteries, waiting for a trooper squadron to materialize and ambush you.

“It’s quiet too quiet?” you tease with a lopsided grin. “Lay off the thrillers, Mando. Come on.”

You step inside, he hesitates. “Could be a trap.”

Hands on the doorframe, leaning forward, your face almost touches the helmet. “Then you’ll shoot them and we’ll be back to square one. Not much of a choice here, Mando.” Those pretty eyes, your shining, wet lips. It’s a siren’s call he knows he shouldn’t answer.

The Mandalorian follows you inside.

It takes him a moment to recognize his surroundings.

Your store hibernates in the dark, stale air floating around its vault. Your store, which used to buzz with drills and neon lights and life around the clock, looms like a beast’s hollow belly, crypt-still. Lights off and furniture wrapped in sheets, it looks abandoned, the way all those family houses in deserted villages were hastily vacated during the war. He wonders how long you’ve been out of business because of the siege. Because of him.

You walk across the reception in tomb silence. In the reception signs hang next to the front desk—store policies that gave Mando more than one headache—dark and colorless, like they turned in their badges and no longer preside over this place. Only “NO IMPS” twitches, one or two agonizing flashes of neon green, before it shuts down like its colleagues. Six rules in total, although in Din’s opinion there’s a seventh that foregoes the need of a sign: “NO QUESTIONS”.

That’s a rule that everyone in Nevarro—bounty hunter or not—subscribes to. It’s the rule you followed when the Mandalorian walked into your store, still crafting some half-assed excuse about thrusters when he came face to face (helmet to face?) with you. You never asked about New Republic guidelines or what he wanted them for. Not even for his name. No questions when he came back two weeks later. No questions as weeks passed and then months, as tension thickened between you until his internal barometer cracked.

No questions when his thinning resolve broke one night. That night. He pushed you onto your workbench, you undid each other’s belts, pawed at each other’s sides. No questions when he slid into your wet heat, when he had to stop for a second to avoid a heart attack. No questions when he finished inside you, blood roaring in his ears, your sighs clouding his visor, your hand gently pushing him back.

And then, his question: “Where are you going?”

“Upstairs,” you answered, pulling your trousers back around your hips.

It dropped on his head like freezing water. Upstairs. Upstairs to your apartment, to rest. Alone. Meaning your encounter was a one-night stand, a shortcut to let off some steam. Stars, you were basically swinging the front door wide open for him, putting away a couple of wrenches and switching off the lights to signal the night was over. The Mandalorian didn’t need questions to know he’d overstayed his visit.

But…what if he’d spent the night anyway? Maybe the next morning he would’ve been upfront with you, confess he’d wanted you for so long and that he wanted it to evolve past one furtive encounter, that he wanted it to be real. No, he probably wouldn’t have. As a bounty hunter—as Mandalorian—there are things he simply can’t have. Things that are better off unspoken, better off—

“Tucked away,” you say behind him, making the Mandalorian jump.

“What?”

“The planner.” You walk behind the front desk. “I was saying I don’t remember leaving it here. I thought it was tucked away in some box.”

Oh.

It is strange. A light sheen of dust covers the counter, yet the planner is glossy clean, a painted depiction of the Manarai Mountains on its cover. A souvenir from Coruscant. He wonders who brought you that. It tugs at something sweet but sad in his chest, the fact that you have to rely on others’ cheap souvenirs to explore the galaxy. That’ll change as soon as this mess with the siege is settled.

You flip through the planner, empty for the most part but for a few scribbles on the first pages. It’s dated 5 ABY, four years ago. The Mandalorian knows from experience that your appointment rule works mostly to turn away unsavory clients. Or to get on his nerves.

“Look at that,” you murmur as if reading his mind, your finger pointing at nothing on a page. “You don’t have an appointment, Mando.”

“We don’t have time for this,” he answers, though he knows he’ll make time for it anyway. It used to drive him up the wall whenever you refused to see him using that stupid excuse. But, as with everything with you, it was more complicated than that. It took longer than he’s willing to admit to understand that it was a game. That you liked him riled up, after the push and pull, the hot and cold, the challenge. You had a taste for difficulty. Although it didn’t take as long to figure out that he liked it too. “Just let me in.”

“I don’t know,” you drawl, glancing at the dull signs on the wall. “Rules are rules.”

The Mandalorian has played this game with you enough to know what you want. He thinks of all those memories in this building. You, pinned between his armor and the doorframe; him, sitting on that battered couch upstairs with your hands on his knees. Even those calm nights, when you’d only sit and talk and make him laugh, and sometimes he’d get a laugh from you too, if he didn’t try too hard. All the sweating and the panting and the talking that these walls have witnessed. Maybe there’s time for one last memory before you both leave this planet for good. Not maybe—there’s definitely time. If this were an ambush, you’d be dodging blaster shots by now.

“So bend the rules,” he says slowly, gripping his edge of the counter and dropping his voice to the low register that gives you goosebumps. “For me.”

Your eyes twinkle like copper at the fact that he’s playing along. “And what do I get in return?”

This time, he doesn’t hesitate. “Whatever you want.” Perhaps he’s known for a while, in the back of his head where he could ignore it, but last night the idea rushed to his front lobe. He’ll give you anything you want.

“I want…” you begin, mischief shining in your eyes, before a shadow clouds them. Slowly, your face goes soft, a special kind of longing in your pupils. You swallow, your voice becomes throaty, and the words sound truer than anything Din’s ever heard: “I want you. I just want you.”

He almost trips on his feet when he rounds the counter, his head already swimming. The hunter crowds you with his body, backs you up against the counter until you’re caged and looking up at him, hooded eyes and parted lips. Hot stuff. Cara’s shallow pet name. When he heard it he thought it was inappropriate. But now. As your mouth nestles on his clothed neck and breathes hot, damp air through the fabric—a mild sensation for most people, he guesses, but almost a mating call for him—he realizes it’s not untrue. The name fits you like a glove, hot stuff. It’s just…incomplete. If he’s learnt anything these nine days is that there’s so much more to you, enough sailor knots of emotion and personality inside you to loop around the galaxy if unraveled.

“Touch me,” you breathe, rubbing up against him, searching friction. “Please, please, touch me. There’s nobody here, we—we have time.”

Gloved palms on your waist, down to your hips, lower to your ass, Din tries to fondle you as best he can. He pins you between the counter and his hips, your leg curls around his back and holds him closer. His erection starts to bulge against your belly, your breaths start quickening, your hearts start pumping faster. The tell-tale signs that indicate you’re both ready to go hit all their usual beats. But something’s missing. There’s a step you’re skipping, something…something he’s not doing right.

Tentatively, you press a small kiss on his covered neck, and he can only feel its frustrating whisper, a promise of more.

A lightbulb flicks on.

Mando holds your hips and spins you around, the desk’s edge on your waist. “Bend over,” he grouses next to your ear, his voice sand-coarse. “Don’t turn around.”

Gloves off first. One palm cradles the back of your neck, feels you shiver. His left hand runs down your back and around to your tummy, savoring all those warm, secret places on you, the way your body opens up to him on instinct. The power trip when he cups your heat through your skirts and you moan into the counter. You nestle your hips on his lap, and he stiffens on command, a tug between his legs that he knows is far too insistent for foreplay. Stars, it’s like he’s conditioned to get hard in this store.

“Don’t—” he chokes out “—not so fast. Or I—I won’t—”

“What?” you pant. Din hears the grin laced in your voice and knows it’s bad news for him. He drops to his knees and both hands walk up your bandaged calves, squeeze the tops of your thighs. “You…you don’t…” He throws your skirts over your back. You inhale sharply at the cold air—or at his hands pulling the soft flesh of your backside. When he removes the helmet, your pitch sounds broken up, more desperate. “You d-don’t want…”

It’s a small victory when he parts his lips against your clothed core and it’s you, for once, who chokes on words. Small victory, but he’ll take it, especially after the way his cock twitches in his pants when he smells you. He kisses you again, just a peck over your clit, and your legs shake. Fucking…stars. If this is how you feel when you tease him…well, he gets it. You mewl and push back on his face, but he hardly thinks you want it that easy.

“Stop moving,” he tells you sternly, with a voice he’d use on quarries.

A shiver runs down your spine. “But—” You break into a whine when his open palm slaps the side of your thigh. It’s probably the surprise rather than the sting that makes you inhale sharply, and a combination of both that dampens the cotton between your legs.

“Stop moving,” he repeats, mouth pressed against your core so you can feel the vibration; that, he learnt from you. “Or you don’t get my mouth.”

Above him, you let out a displeased little grunt, too throaty to mean much. But you open your legs wider and brace yourself on the front desk, grant him full access to you. His index hooks on your underwear, moves it aside, and he buries his lips deep into the softest part of you. Din barely hears you gasp. He circles both arms around your thighs and pulls you closer, until his tongue is buried between your folds and you just have to take it. Fuck, it’s just…decadent. The taste, the smell, how soaked you are already, your little purrs and whimpers when he sucks on your lips. They’re not things he ever thought he’d get to feel. He doesn’t deserve any of it.

“Mmm, stars, Mando,” you sob, sneakily rutting your hips like you just can’t help it. He allows it, but only because he’s so rock fucking hard he’s practically doing the same thing. His cock trapped down one pant leg, he squeezes his thighs to try and soothe the ache. “Move—move up a b-bit.”

“No,” he grunts, and licks a slow line from the spot right below your clit to the back of your slit. It wasn’t so long ago that it was your mouth on him, you teasing him mercilessly inside this very store, him moaning and grunting and losing his mind. That’s how he wants you: sloppy, desperate, begging.

“Maker, don’t t-tease,” you moan, but it only encourages him. His tongue slides deep inside you where you’re hotter than sin, enjoying how your walls swell and tighten around it. You’re so fucking wet, he could push into you right now and relieve the pressure building between his legs. But not yet.

“Beg me,” Din groans, mouthing at the inside of your thighs and sucking tiny bruises there. You moan above him, deep in your throat, and he wonders which one of you is more turned on right now. “Put—fuck—put that smart mouth to use. Beg me.”

For a moment all he can hear is your labored breathing, the wheels turning in your pretty head, laying out a plan to make him give in faster. Then, soft and sweet, you hum, “Mando.”

One word. Probably the word Din hears the most, so generic and impersonal that everyone from friends to strangers to enemies call him that. That word coming from your lips makes his heart sprint, his cock pulse and scream at him to hurry up. Stars, but if it was his name—his real name—on your lips, soft and purring like you pronounced his nickname, he knows he wouldn’t be able to hold back a second longer.

“You always make me feel so good,” you continue, arching your back a little to test the waters. “You’re so—so good with your mouth, stars. Want you to kiss me again—kiss me everywhere. Taste me like yesterday—” Your breath catches when he sucks on your inner lips again, closer to where you want him. Maker, if you keep talking like that… “Used to th-think about it all the time, how—mmm—how your—your tongue would feel. Never, ngh, never thought you’d use it th-there, though.” Din laps at your cunt, drinks from it. Fuck, he can’t remember the last time he got this hard. An airy laugh before you continue. “You can be so d-dirty sometimes. I’d let you do—do anything to me.”

Really, Din doesn’t know what pushes him to do it. He doesn’t know what makes him pull back and spread you open with his fingers, stare at your glistening, deliciously swollen folds, and spit at their very top. You moan raggedly above him, a complete mess of sobs and whimpers, as Din simply stares. He watches the trail of spit run down your slit, the lower it goes the more precum he feels sticking to his trousers. Half-drunk on your words and your slick, Din thinks: What did you do to me? Maker, you have him wrapped around your finger.

Saliva trails down until it teardrops on your clit, clings to it, and he doesn’t need another sign. His lips latch on to your bundle of nerves and suck. You sob and whine and cry, rocking your hips hard against his mouth, and he continues sucking through his teeth. Your knees give out, but he holds them before you can hit the ground, holds you in place as he feels you give him everything, your pussy clenching around nothing. Slick trails down his chin, all the way to his neck, and—shit. He’s going to burst in his pants just from feeling you cum in his mouth.

It takes every last ounce of self-control he has left to detach his lips from your cunt and stumble to his feet. You’re still shaking, still panting, but he can’t hold it back a minute longer. Fuck, not even a second longer, he needs to have you right now.

It’s a struggle to get a hold of his fly, fingers trembling and teeth grinding. When he finally pulls the zipper down, the sound snaps your head up.

“Are you—Mando, are you going to—”

“Yes,” he grunts, digging into his waistband for his cock, lining it up against your cunt. Stars, he’s so pent up, it hurts to touch it. “Is it—is it o-okay, can—can, I—”

“Oh, fuck, yes,” you mewl, pushing your hips so tightly against his groin the head of his cock catches against your entrance. Fuck. “Please, please, please, put it inside, let me feel your big, thick, co—”

One hard shove, deep enough that he feels himself poke your cervix, and he’s cumming—hard. His spine doubles over and he grunts and moans into your hair, giving you short, stunted thrusts as he fills you to the brim. You were already so swollen before, now you feel unbearably tight, squeezing his cock so harshly his eyes roll back on his skull. And his balls keep pulling up and giving you more of his load, his teeth grinding so hard they might crack. One last thrust, nice and deep so his cum stays inside you, and his palm presses down on your eyes. Din uses that hand as leverage to turn you around and tilt your head like you showed him, just enough so he can reach your lips. And he kisses you.

Your bodies spasm and throb against each other, you clench around him involuntarily and he flinches, too sensitive to handle the aftershocks of your orgasm. Still, he could stay like this for days. Gently sucking on your tongue, running his along the roof of your mouth, feeling how your lips curve against his in a smile. Then, an alarming thought. Maybe this is the only way to do it that feels right now—sex, he means. With the helmet off, his lips on yours, his nose on your hair. Bare hands drawing circles on your hips. Every sense devoted to you. Even the briefest taste can be a point of no return.

You peck his lips and flutter sweet, short kisses around his jaw, working your way up to his ear, where you whisper, “We’re running out of time.”

The jammer. Those words are quickly becoming the bane of his existence. “I know,” he whispers back, but presses one last, long kiss to your lips that feels inexplicably sad, like a kiss goodbye. Din shakes the thought off his head. He’s too pessimistic sometimes.

You both hiss when he pulls out, slowly so he won’t hurt you.

“Keep ‘em closed,” he tells you before removing his hand from your eyes. For all he knows you could open them right there, and there’d be nothing he could do about it. Somehow, however, he’s certain you won’t. His trust is rewarded when he pulls the hand back, and your eyes are screwed shut beneath it.

It takes an awkward choreography to straighten yourselves. You try to pull your own underwear back on, but in your position it’s near impossible. So Din kneels behind you once more, fishes his helmet from the floor, tucks himself back into his trousers, and lifts your panties until they hug your hips. You push your own skirts down before Din’s upright, which results in the long fabric covering him like your furniture. You share a quick laugh before standing straight and facing each other.

“You can open them.”

Now, he tells himself, watching your sated smile and blinking eyes. The words are on the tip of his tongue: When this is over, would you like to come with me—

“If there’s a jammer here,” you say, before he can get a word out, “it’s in the workshop.”

You walk around him and open a door behind the reception desk to reveal the staircase that leads to your apartment. Din’s still telling himself that he’ll just ask you later, when you climb one step—and stop. You turn around like you can sense he’s about to ask, for the second time in this store, where you’re going.

“Gotta get some stuff from upstairs, but I’ll be down in a second.” Your voice wobbles, your foot hesitates on the step. You’re nervous. “But if you find the jammer before I come back, don’t…don’t leave.”

“Of course not.” Maker, of course he wouldn’t leave without you. Do you really think he would?

The workshop is darker than the reception. A single window, currently boarded up, so he has to use the helmet’s light. The cone of white light creates a sinister effect, like creatures lurk everywhere it doesn’t touch. Rubber tubes hang from the ceiling like lianas, circuit boards glimmer green like leaves, and yellow sensors blink from several components. Your own little ecosystem watches him dig into boxes of clutter to search for a jammer. Stars, he’s never known how you manage to find anything here. It’s probably best if he waits outside; he wouldn’t be able to find his own ship in here without you.

He’s turning to the door when the helmet’s light catches on a dark glint, like it reflected on a mirror. It stops him on his tracks. Din’s not sure what prompts his feet to carry him toward your worktable, where the mystery item lays center-front. He sees himself reflected on the dark T-visor. It’s a helmet. It’s a blue Mandalorian helmet.

At first he’s confused. Surprised to see a Mandalorian helmet here—and is it even a Madalorian helmet? Yes, yes it is. His brain lags behind his eyes, goes through different scenarios, each less likely than the last.

Is there another Mandalorian here? Did the Alor bring this? Is the Alor a client?

And then, truth.

It falls abruptly on his back like atmospheric pressure, gravity that crushes. A hot rush of blood enveloping his head, poisoning his thoughts, a ringing in his ears so sharp he thinks he might pass out. A million thoughts in less than a second—convoluted, scrambled, furious. Then an image, so clear that the Maker himself might’ve played it for him like a holo: Thieves, scammers, criminals scurrying through the tunnels of the Covert, the empty halls where his people built a refuge, where they could feel safe. The pile of beskar armor unguarded—the high price that brave Mandalorians paid to help Din, help the child—served in a silver platter for these scavengers, these fucking honorless lowlifes.

His gloved fingers grip your worktable so hard his knuckles might crack—or the table. But the Mandalorian can’t feel the pain on his joints, not when his bloodstream’s turned to acid, when it feels like somebody jammed live wires into his head.

This fucking place. This planet with its fucking people, their fucking cynicism, this fucking landfill for hazardous waste, this piece of shit skughole—

Above, the Mandalorian hears footsteps. Your footsteps. You.

He looks down at the helmet, the empty T-visor limp and black, dead. You did this. Thinking of you clears the red cloud from his mind, trades it for a gray one. A headache creeps behind his eyes, his shoulders go slack. He feels hollowed out. Like a spoon reached inside his chest and scooped away everything essential, left him a carcass. Like something died here today.

You did this.

And then the helmet is not a helmet, but a severed head. A head with a pool of blood around it, guts sprayed all over, and there’s the corrupt smell of blaster residue coming from his neighbor’s house, the taste of copper after biting his tongue running, the durasteel giants shooting red death, the deafening explosions, his parents’ screams, his school going up in a cloud of smoke, his father holding him, whispering one last sentence that he can’t hear through the sounds of war and carnage, his mother’s cheeks stained with tears and dirt and blood, their blurring faces, the darkness, the fear.

Holding the helmet, Din feels tears sting in the corners of his eyes, then hot on his cheeks. Nobody understands, why can’t anybody understand? The warrior that owned this helmet is lost forever, condemned to live like a phantom, empty without the Creed, without the Way. It’s worse than death. It’s the curse that most of the Covert was forced to carry, to walk this galaxy like living dead, violently stripped of everything that mattered. And the relic of their sacrifice sits in your workshop next to the rest of your junk, ready to be sold off to the highest bidder, somebody who’ll want to hang it in their wall like game they hunted, and how could you do this to him, how could you, how could you do this—

“Find anything yet?”

When the Mandalorian turns, his helmet’s white light locks you in place like quarry. Like guilty quarry.

You squint and raise a palm to shut out the bright beam. “Stars, Mando,” you laugh. “Are you trying to blind me? Turn that off.”

Your words are muffled by the rushing blood that wraps around his ears, loud as a waterfall, but he can understand them. The Mandalorian grips the helmet tighter between his hands and keeps the light on so you can see what he found, what he knows about you. The ugly, festered truth about you.

Once your eyes adjust to the bright light and they’re able to stay open for more than three seconds, you give him a quizzical look. The visor gives you nothing, so you drop your gaze to the hard evidence between his hands.

And you have the nerve to look even more surprised. Furrowed eyebrows and everything to add to the performance.

“Where did you get that?” you ask.

A thousand responses climb into his head in a savage, foul clutter, like army ants. I should ask you the same, where do you think?, how much are they giving you?, was it worth it?, what’s wrong with you?, what’s wrong with this fucking planet? He opens his mouth, but they swarm in his throat all at once and tie a knot around his windpipe. More tears on his cheeks, another attempt at words—nothing.

Finally, quietly: “How could you do this to me?”

The crease between your brows digs deeper, and there’s genuine worry in your eyes. Of course you’re worried, he just caught you red fucking handed. “Mando, I really don’t understand—”

“Me neither,” he hisses through his teeth, “because this is a Mandalorian helmet, and you’re no Mandalorian.” The first insect out, the rest follow like a waterfall, crawling out his mouth. “How long did you wait after I left to steal this from the Covert? An hour? Five minutes?”

Trapped under the light, where you can no longer hide in shadows, you look stricken. The harsh light shines on circles under your eyes, creases where you frown. Bleak features he never noticed before.

Your voice is low and icy when you say, “I never stole anything from the Covert.”

“Scavenge, loot, I don’t care what you people like to call it.” How could you, after everything, how could you.

“Listen to me,” you say steadily, but your eyes are hot coals and your jaw is set, your own anger rising. Good. Masks off. He wants to see who’s been hiding under his noses these nine days. All those fucking months. “I didn’t take a thing from the Covert. I have no idea where that helmet came from.”

The Mandalorian is barely listening. He’s heard more than enough lies for two lifetimes, he sure as fuck doesn’t need yours. Instead, he focuses on the one thought that manages to float in the red sea of anger and despair. He holds on to it like an anchor, clutches it until his palms bleed, but truth hurts.

“Duma.” He doesn’t ask this time around—he tells you. He knows and there’s nothing you can do about it—nothing he can do about it. Greef Karga’s words shine painful light on fog. Boiling beskar…did you take her up on that deal? ��You’re selling it to her.”

“Stars, of course not.” The stoniness of your features melts for an instant, hurt revealed underneath those layers. You look devastated, tired. Maker, you’re good. Those hours of sabacc are sure paying off. “Why won’t you believe me?”

“How can I believe you?” he snarls, his head suffocating in dark quicksand—grief, anger, betrayal all clogging his nostrils, making his head throb. How could you how could you how could you. “When I know what type of people sprout from this planet, I make a living hunting them. I know you—” his voice breaks, but the words keep flowing and he hardly hears them “—I know the kind of company you keep, I know you have no principles, I know you can’t commit to shit—”

“Commit?” you snap, face hardening cold and twisted like the magma outside, but he knows too well what lies beneath the surface. Lava, hot and bubbling, your anger as raw as his. Rawer. “You wanna talk about commitment? I waited for you for five months!” The light from the helmet no longer makes you squint, but it turns your eyes red and watery. “You left. You left me here to starve through a fucking siege that you caused—”

“I came back for you!”

That gives you pause. Then you shake your head. “No, you came back because that piece of shit official asked—”

“He asked to meet me in Belderone.” Belderone, same sector as Nevarro, not even ten minutes away in hyperspace. “Told me Nevarro wasn’t safe because there was a siege, so I insisted we meet here.” The memory drains him. How worried he was about you, the type of worried that stirs bile in the stomach. How guilty he felt. “To see you again. Make sure you were okay.” The Mandalorian looks down at the helmet in his hands, a strange mirror staring up at him. Harsher than the one from this morning. His ears ring, his mouth tastes sour, his rising headache plateaus into an unbearable, incessant throb. A ghost limb aches somewhere in his body, all over it. He wants to leave your store, your planet.

How could you?

Mando doesn’t raise his head to look at you when he walks out the workshop. You don’t stop him when he reaches the main door. You don’t stop him when he walks out to the street.

The sky is jaundice-yellow when he steps outside. Gone are this morning’s blue hues, suffocated by the sickly coughing of a million volcanos, by their fumaroles and their sparks. For all the Mandalorian cares, this planet can burn.

On his way to the cantina to pick up the kid, he stares at the marker that identifies the entrance to the city: that crooked, arthritis-ridden arch. Beyond it, he spots the outline of a ship. A sleek civilian shuttle, probably a rental. The official isn’t stupid enough to fly a Republic starship past siege lines, so if the tiny shuttle fooled Guideon’s platoon in the atmosphere, well, it’ll have to do it again. Tomorrow, they’ll just have to tempt fate and avoid tempting the batallion of Imperial cruisers. Or fly out in the Crest and hope they can jump into hyperspace before imps pulverize them. All he wants is to put as many lightyears between him and this planet.

Din’s head pounds when he walks inside the cantina. The only thought hammering against his skull: How could you.

…………

Edit: Chapter 5…’tis the end

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im pretty sure i forgot someone so please message me if i did!

#the mandalorian smut #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #din djarin smut #din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #mando smut #mando x reader #mando x you #mywriting #rule maker rule breaker

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xxdragonwriterxx · 3 years

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🔥You Are Human, And Damn It, You Are An Important One!🔥

A/N: Hey everyone! I’m back! It looks like my tags finally decided to sort themselves out so I wanted to (finally) post a new story! I’m still working on requests though, so don’t worry, those are coming soon! I just wanted to post this in the mean time while I edit those and test if my tags are really fixed on one of my originals so that any requested fics will actually be seen later should an error occur. Thank you so much for your continued support and patience, you guys are so amazing! I hope this makes up for my temporary hiatus! This one actually has a bit of a heavier tone to it but I think I’m finally happy with it! Thanks again for the support, and don’t be afraid to talk to me! Shoot me a message or just spew random bullshit and I’ll still respond 😂. Enjoy!

(Warning: themes of non-con & abuse. This is set in a brothel, but there’s nothing explicit, it’s just mentioned or implied. Just wanted to put it out there! Viewer discretion advised!)

🐉Song Recommendation: “The Gardener” By: Sarah Sparks 🐉

Word Count: ~7k

~~~

It was that time of year. The time of year that Levi hated the most. The Underground Market Festival. It was the time of year in which merchants from all around would come down to the Underground City, away from the prying eyes of the Military Police, and sell anything and everything to the nobles who weren’t exactly looking for orthodox materials. The normally filthy, mostly empty streets would be filled with members of the wealthy, dripping in jewelry, cash, and lavish clothing as they paraded around the sorry excuse for a city, boasting of their wealth and privilege as they bought enough food and luxurious goods to feed three times the number of people in the Underground while sharing none of it.

The days were starting to blur together. Levi honestly couldn’t tell if it had been a day, a week, or a month as the drugs in his system continued to work just like the brothel owners wanted them to, rendering him practically inoperative and perfect for use. His head pounded, swimming with confused thoughts. His gaze was unfocused, warped, and his whole body felt suffocatingly hot despite his lack of cover, his legs shifting as his body instinctively searched for a relief he didn’t even want. But that was exactly how they wanted him.

The sound of his door being unlocked made him look up slowly, his eyes taking a few seconds to fully focus on the man standing in the entrance of his room, a wide, malicious grin on his face. Levi couldn’t help but wrinkle his nose in disgust. The man smelled of sweat and stale alcohol, and his unkempt appearance made Levi itch, even when drugged out of his mind.

“Oh, Levi…” the man cooed, making Levi shudder. “I have another customer for you.”

Even though Levi had been through this time and time again, even though he had been trapped in his filthy room since he was caught stealing from a merchant friend of the brothel owner at age twenty, even though the drugs in his system were making his body scream for what this new customer could give him, he still couldn’t help the wave of dread that washed through him, the fear. Levi didn’t fear much, having grown up on the streets of the Underground alone since he was abandoned by Kenny at the age of ten, but this? This he was scared of.

He thought back to the wretched old man that had abandoned him as a small child and wondered what he would think of him now. Would he be disgusted? Unsurprised? Angry? Not that it mattered. Levi knew he would never see him again. But even so, his brain couldn’t help itself from going down those roads, asking questions of “what if?” no matter how many times he reminded himself that it didn’t matter. He was just some bastard thug turned whore in the Underground. Nobody was going to even remember him, let alone care about who he was or who he may be in the future.

Levi was once again brought out of his daze when the pig in the doorway moved to the side, letting a noble woman saunter into the room. She had a wicked grin on her face as she approached him, ignoring the brothel owner as he slammed the door shut behind her, giving them some privacy. She was covered in glittering jewelry, and although the dress she wore was extravagant, it was very tight fitting and low cut, barely considered decent, her large breasts one breath away from spilling out over the top. Her hair was pinned up in a lavish braided style, twisting and coiling tightly, and held together with real gold pins that Levi knew must’ve cost a fortune.

“~Well, hello sexy,” the woman purred as she approached the raven-haired man.

Levi had to force himself not to grimace, even with the effect of the drugs, when she slithered her way over his thighs, her hands reaching up to cup his face. The smell of whatever custard perfume she had on was overwhelming, making his eyes water and his throat close up. Her hands felt clammy from all of the lotions and creams she had slathered over her skin to make it look shinier, making them feel like dead fish rubbing against his cheeks.

“Well? Aren’t you going to ask my name?” The woman demanded in a sickly sweet voice, making Levi close his eyes in barely suppressed agony.

“What is your name?” Levi asked in a low voice. He felt the woman preen above him at the sound of his voice, knowing she thought his deep tone was for setting the mood rather than the effect of his despair.

“My name is Lady Clarissa! What’s your name, hmmm?”

“Levi,” He said quietly.

“Oooh, Leevviiii, I like that,” Lady Clarissa practically moaned. “Say, Levi, you were quite expensive. That must mean you're really good at what you do. I can already tell that you fulfill my personal tastes in terms of appearance, so why don’t you convince me of the rest and give me a good time. Don’t make me regret spending my good money on you. Don’t make me punish you.”

Levi gritted his teeth when she ground her hips into him, trying his hardest not to fight back. He knew it would be difficult, the drugs making his movements and mental processes much slower, but at that moment, all he wanted to do was shove her off of him. Swallowing the bile in his throat, Levi reached for her as she leaned down to force her tongue into his mouth.

It was that time of year. The time of year that (Y/N) hated the most. The Underground Market Festival. It took everything in her to avoid groaning in annoyance as the people she was expected to call her friends dragged her down into the filthy Underground City for a day of “fun”. (Y/N) would much rather be back at home, reading a book in the library, or relaxing with the horses in the barn, or secretly practicing her sword fighting skills with the guards of their estate. But her father had forced her to go when her friends had shown up at the house, begging for her to come with them. He claimed she needed to get her priorities straight and actually present herself, show the honor and pride that came with being part of the (L/N) family. (Y/N) thought there was very little honor and pride in parading their wealth around like they owned the world, especially in front of people who constantly struggled to survive on a daily basis.

(Y/N) walked slowly down the worn cobblestone streets, suppressing the urge to gag at the sight of other nobles walking around, looking and acting as if they were rulers of the walls. She barely looked at anything, only stopping to occasionally buy food when she noticed the hungry children hanging around, looking for a scrap to steal. She could tell they were wary of her, but she never stopped trying, always offering them the food in some way, even if it meant leaving it in a secluded space for them to find later.

Her friends constantly tried to get her to engage, running up to her with crystal jewelry, silk clothing, and delectable foods, attempting to entice her, only to get pushed away. (Y/N) wanted no part in any of it. Even her attire spoke volumes about how little she wanted to be there. She knew that to the people of the Underground, the dress she wore would be considered something of utmost value, but when compared to the nobles around her, she looked underdressed and plain. She wore nothing more than a subtle red dress covered with a black leather jacket, paired with black combat boots and matching gloves, no jewelry to be found except for the simple white earrings she wore in her lobes.

Her father had been less than pleased with her appearance, but stopped arguing when she announced she was leaving, the lord just happy she had at least agreed to go to the festival. She knew he was disappointed in her, annoyed that she wasn’t like the other noble ladies who loved to flaunt their luxurious lifestyles and bend to the every whim of the lords around them, looking to marry early for money and power. (Y/N) wouldn’t be surprised if the entire reason her father wanted her here was so she could possibly win over the affections of a single lord milling about, one that was rich and influential. It was for that possibility alone that (Y/N) had originally thought to wear something that made her look underdressed, having to swallow the bile that rose in her throat at the prospect of catching some snobby noble’s attention.

“Yeah, her name is (Y/N)! She’s the one right over there, I think she could use a good time.”

(Y/N)’s head snapped up when she heard her name, her eyes shooting over to where her friends were standing in a group in front of a large building. All of them were looking at her, covering their faces with their hands to hide their giggles. Dread filled her to the brim when she saw the sign in front of the building, her face paling in horror.

“That one, eh? I think we can arrange something like that,” the brothel owner said, a smug smile on his lips as he stared at her, his grin only widening as her cheeks flushed a brilliant red. “Don’t worry, I’ve got one in particular that could give you a good ride. He’s expensive since he’s my most popular, but he’s worth it.”

(Y/N) opened her mouth to argue, her cheeks on fire as her brain fought to think of something, anything to get her out of this situation. She didn’t want to fuck some random stranger for no reason, but she especially didn’t want to have sex in a brothel. She found them vulgar, repulsive, and horrible. The way they treated their “workers” was appalling. Just as the words finally reached the tip of her tongue, one of the girls she had come to the festival with cut off her impending argument.

“Damn, I’m jealous! If he’s that good I’m almost tempted to take him myself. But she needs this. She hasn’t loosened up the entire time we’ve been here and I think this might help. She’ll take him.”

The greasy man smiled and wrote her name down, happily accepting the roll of cash her friend handed him before getting up, supposedly to let the man know that he had another customer on the way. (Y/N) tried to escape when she could, but her friends rushed up and caught her before she could slip into the shadows, dragging her over to the brothel and shoving her towards an open door where the brothel owner stood, a creepy smile still plastered on his face.

“Guys! I don’t want this!” (Y/N) whispered frantically as she was dragged towards her doom.

“It doesn’t matter if you want it or not, you need it!” One of her friends said with a laugh. “Besides, you’re going to have a fun time. Don’t make us regret spending that money for you!”

(Y/N) was practically thrown into the room, stumbling as she fought to catch her balance, before the door was slammed shut behind her, the loud sound of the lock being latched reverberating around the room with the finality of a death toll. Huffing in anger, (Y/N) stood and brushed herself off, smoothing out her dress and straightening back up to her full height, fighting off the panic slithering up her spine.

A low groan of pain coming from behind her made her whirl around in surprise, her eyes landing on a shorter, pale skinned man with stunning silver eyes and raven black hair. Gods he looked pathetic. She could definitely tell he was attractive, it made sense now as to why he was a popular choice, but he looked sickly, his cheeks hollowed out, dark circles under his eyes, and a muscled yet neglected body starting to wear thin from years of hunger and constant overuse. The sight made her want to be sick. How could anybody be cruel enough to force themselves onto this obviously abused man? How could anyone willingly pay money to fuck him rather than help him?

“Um, hello,” (Y/N) said quietly. “W-What’s your name?”

The man raised an eyebrow, not used to the soft, kind, almost shy way she asked for his name. The women and occasional men he dealt with most of the time were demanding, controlling, and sadistic, knowing they paid for a man they could use, and their voices usually projected that. Yet, this woman looked as if she had been forced to do this, further supported by the way she had been nearly thrown into the room by whom he assumed was her friends.

“Levi,” he said quietly, waiting for the usual routine to start, no matter how much his gut twisted in disgust at the thought.

“Hi, Levi, I’m (Y/N).”

“(Y/N)...” Levi murmured softly, training himself to memorize it despite his swimming brain, knowing she would want him to scream it out later. Whether in pain or in pleasure, he wasn’t sure yet.

“Um…” (Y/N) was about to speak, her mind scrambling for something to say when her eye caught sight of a large bruise on his neck. Her eyes widened and suddenly started scanning his entire body, her stomach roiling more and more the longer she stared. Now that she was really paying attention, (Y/N) could see painful bites, hickeys, and splotchy bruises littering his neck, jaw, chest, and thighs. Her eyes narrowed on the long, bloody scratches running down the length of his chest and back, and she noticed blooming red patches of skin all over him that were raw and aching from being slapped hard and rough over and over again.

He was wearing a loose pair of worn boxers as his only cover, and (Y/N) could only imagine what other horrors the thin cloth was hiding. Glancing down, she saw him shift uncomfortably, his boxers tented by his arousal. The sight made her growl in anger, knowing that to keep him going after he had already had so many customers for the day, a drug was being used to make him insatiable, forcing him past the point of pain and probably clouding his judgement and mental process as well. It made her want to go cut up the brothel owner and serve him to a pig.

Without thinking, (Y/N) rushed to him, reaching out to him, only to freeze when he flinched. She heard him curse at the involuntary movement, knowing it was his job to appear as unaffected and sexually appealing as possible, and it made her heart clench even harder, her hatred for this place and the people who ran it increasing tenfold.

Taking a deep breath, (Y/N) immediately slowed her movements, trying to appear as calm and unhurried as possible. Her gaze softened and glazed with unshed tears when he closed his eyes, his arms reaching out as he prepared for her to sit on his lap and have her way with him like she knew every other man and woman who used him did. Gritting her teeth against the fury she felt, she carefully slid her way across his thighs. She felt him force himself to relax under her as he leaned forward to let her kiss him.

When he felt nothing, and heard something click, Levi cracked open his eyes in curiosity, only to have them fly open all the way when he felt something cool and wet against his neck. Looking down at the woman in his arms, his lips parted in shock, watching in confused awe as she leaned back and soaked a small cloth in some water from a bottle, rinsing the fresh blood from the fabric. Looking to the side, he saw a small first aid kit by her feet, the container open to reveal a variety of medical tools inside.

(Y/N) leaned forward again, raising the towel to his neck to dab at his abrasions, washing them carefully, reverently, almost... lovingly. Levi opened and closed his mouth but no words came out as she continued to work on him, delicately cleaning his jaw and neck before carefully moving on to his chest. Was this some kind of strange ritual she always performed during sex? Did she just find him dirty and want to clean him up before putting her lips or her pussy on his skin? His mind was running a million miles a minute as she worked on him in silence, only pausing when he hissed quietly at the feeling of his gashes being washed.

(Y/N) frowned as she gently swiped the cloth along the red gouges in his skin. They were deep, most likely caused by the long, sharp nail extensions some ladies liked to wear, or the dull blade of a man with violent tendencies. It didn’t surprise her, a lot of the men and women who used people like this did have sadistic qualities, but it didn’t help to quell the now roaring fire in her blood, wanting nothing more than to fight against the injustice of this man.

“W-What are you doing?” Levi finally managed to ask.

“Cleaning your wounds.”

“Why? Is this some kind of-”

“Preparation? No. We aren’t going to do anything. I just want to help your injuries heal.”

Levi felt like his brain was full of static, like his mouth was stuffed with cotton. He wasn’t complaining, far from it, but he couldn’t get a reading on this woman. Why would she, a noble from the surface, want to help him, a hopeless whore from the Underground?

“Wha-”

“Before you ask what my intentions are, I’m just going to tell you that I didn’t even want to do this. I was forced to come to this festival because my father wants me to become more of a proper noble woman. But since I wasn’t too thrilled about having to be here, the people I came with thought I could use an opportunity to loosen up, and paid for me to do this with you in the hopes that I’d start having fun with them afterwards. But I have no intention of doing any of that. I hate how everyone in the Underground is treated like shit, and the last thing I want to do is take advantage of someone who obviously isn’t in control of his situation. I just want to help.”

Levi closed his mouth, all of his protests dying on his tongue. He still had questions, a lot of them, but he decided those could wait, her explanation making him feel surprisingly relaxed for someone who had trained himself to never take the word of a noble at face value. He had never met anyone like her. Even before he was forced to whore himself out, all he had ever known of nobles was their complete lack of humility and egotistical sense of self-importance.

It was silent for a moment, but this time, the silence was more comfortable, both of them starting to relax a little as (Y/N) continued to patch him up. Levi felt himself loosen up a bit, his muscles unwinding as his hands settled on her waist, keeping her securely balanced on his lap as she worked. Pride swirled in (Y/N)’s chest as she felt his tense muscles soften, her eyes sparkling as she started to work her way towards earning his trust.

“What’s your happiest memory?” (Y/N) asked suddenly.

Levi quirked an eyebrow in suspicion, “Why should I tell you, brat?”

“You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” (Y/N) said, shaking her head and stifling a giggle at the nickname. “I only asked because I figured we may as well talk while we do this. Not only that, I feel like you could use some happiness right now. But I don’t want to make you uncomfortable, so if you don’t want to talk to me, you don’t have to.”

Levi was silent for a minute, the cogs in his mind turning as he tried to make what he believed to be the right decision despite the fog clouding his judgement. Just as she had promised, (Y/N) waited patiently, not pressuring him to answer, or even bringing up another question. She merely sat in silence, her clear (e/c) eyes narrowed on his injuries as she worked to make him feel better.

“There was a time when I was with my friend Farlan, a few years back. We were doing a job, trying to get rid of a troublesome merchant for a client of ours when we found out the merchant had a cat. We were hiding around the corner, waiting to strike when that damn cat jumped up onto Farlan’s lap. I’m fine with cats, but that was the day we found out Farlan had some kind of allergy to them. He was trying to hold back his sneezes but finally lost control right when the merchant came around the corner, and Farlan ended up sneezing really violently in his face. That merchant got so scared he must’ve jumped at least three feet in the air, and even managed to piss himself before he took off. We still had to finish him off later, but in that moment, when Farlan was mortified and our target was running for the hills because of a cat induced sneeze, I couldn’t help but laugh a little.”

(Y/N) had paused in her work to listen to him, and couldn’t help but smile when he finished his story. Going back to work, (Y/N) didn’t ask what happened to Farlan, not wanting to drag him back down after she had finally gotten him to talk to her, about something so personal no less.

“What about you?” Levi asked.

“Hmm, I think I’d have to say when I got my horse for my birthday,” (Y/N) said. “I was never around the horses, wasn’t allowed to be in the barn because it wasn’t “proper for a lady”. But I loved them, loved seeing them on the streets when other nobles would come visit my father or when the soldiers from the Survey Corps would come back from a mission. I couldn’t stay away, so no matter how much my father tried to squash my love of them, it just wouldn’t happen. My mother eventually convinced him to let it go, and surprised me with a little chestnut filly that I named Sashay when I was about sixteen years old. Now, she’s my best friend. We’ve been through everything together, and she’s the only one who doesn’t try to force me to be something I’m not. Aside from the royal guards, I guess. They learned a long time ago to stop trying to get me to sit still and look pretty when I beat all of them in the sword fighting ring.”

Levi’s brows shot up into his hair at that, his lips parting in surprise. “You know how to sword fight?”

(Y/N) chuckled. “Yeah, not what you were expecting, huh?”

“No,” Levi said. “I’ve never heard of a noble woman who could fight, let alone with a blade. Are you any good?”

“I tend to think so, but that all depends on who I’m up against,” (Y/N) said with a cheeky smile.

For some reason, Levi couldn’t help but smile back for the first time in years. His lips felt chapped and strained from disuse, but it felt good, a light feeling flooding his chest with warmth. “You said earlier that your horse’s name is Sashay,” Levi said, suddenly changing the topic.

“Mm hm.”

“That’s weird.”

(Y/N) giggled at his bluntness, making another fluttering feeling swirl in his chest. He had never met anyone other than Farlan who saw his language as something other than rude.

“Yeah, I suppose so,” (Y/N) said. “But I named her that because she is a sassy chestnut mare. I like to imagine that if she were human, she’d be someone you wouldn’t want to mess with, someone who wouldn’t take shit from anyone, but would do so with a spicy attitude. So I named her accordingly.”

Levi huffed a laugh at her response but almost immediately regretted it when the movement of his chest caused the rough gauze at her fingertips to brush against his injuries a little harder than before, the stinging sensation making him hiss in pain.

“Sorry!” (Y/N) said, quickly retracting her hands and holding them up, waiting for him to give her the signal to continue.

“Not your fault,” Levi mumbled, motioning that it was alright for her to get back to work. “Thank you, by the way. I don’t think I said that before.”

(Y/N) shook her head. “You don’t have to thank me. I want to do this.”

Levi wanted to ask her why but remembered what she had told him at the start of this and decided to trust her word, swallowing the question and instead changing topics. “Why do you even have this? Do you always just carry a first aid kit around?”

“Only when I come to the Underground. I want to have it available for those who really need it.”

“You do know that at least half of the people down here would kill you without a second thought to get to that medicine. Or they’d kill you if they thought you were pitying them.”

“I know, but I’d like to think I can handle myself a bit more than the average person. Even so, I usually keep it hidden unless I really want or need to use it on someone, and it’s only for quick patch-ups anyway. I can’t really fix anything major.”

(Y/N) finally finished with his front and carefully slid off of his thighs, moving slowly to begin working on his back. She made sure he was okay with everything she was doing before settling herself down onto the edge of the bed behind him, her hands reaching up to start her work once more.

Levi wanted to know more about her. He felt as if he could talk to her for hours, as if he had known her for years. He wanted to know what made her laugh, what made her cry, what her vision was for the future. It was insane, so much so that Levi idly wondered if he’d fallen off the deep end. But he couldn’t deny it. She was just too intriguing, so surprisingly kind, so genuine.

What was your childhood like? What are your favorite things to do? Do you come down here often? When will I see you again?

The questions continued to rattle around in Levi’s head as they once again lapsed into a comfortable silence but he forced all of them back, not wanting to seem either too desperate to get to know her, or be seen as coming on too strong.

After debating with himself for a while, Levi finally settled on, “You’ve mentioned your father a lot, and how he doesn’t want you to be yourself.”

(Y/N) tensed a little, her face twisted in a grimace behind Levi’s back. “Yeah… he used to be better about it, but ever since my mother died, he’s been like a tyrant. He’s upset he didn’t get a son in the first place, but now that he’s stuck with me for a daughter, he’s even more disappointed that I’m not someone he can easily make profits off of by marrying me off to someone. Not only have I been adamant about not allowing it, but no nobleman wants a woman who can think for herself. A woman who can ride a horse, go toe to toe with her soldiers, has an opinion, and is knowledgeable about current conflicts. They want someone who will dress up all pretty for them and be in bed, ready to satisfy them when they get home from gambling and drinking all day while sitting on their parents’ money.”

Levi scoffed and (Y/N) huffed in agreement. “I’m just not that kind of person. Every suitor that has ever met me has run away from my casual attire and sailor’s mouth.”

“Your father wasn’t like this when your mother was alive?” Levi asked.

“He was, but he wasn’t as bad. My parents were in an arranged marriage, but they got along alright. At least my father loved my mother enough to listen to her most of the time when she told him to lay off of me. I honestly think she’s the reason why I have such a strong fighting spirit.”

“I’m sorry she’s gone,” Levi said awkwardly, not used to providing words of comfort.

“Thanks,” (Y/N) said genuinely, a warm smile gracing her beautiful features.

“I didn’t know my mother that well,” Levi said haltingly, still unsure why he felt comfortable telling her about things he hadn’t even talked to Farlan about. “She died of a disease when I was four years old. She was a prostitute, like me, so I never knew my father. When she died, I was picked up by a man named Kenny, who I thought might’ve been my father for a short while, but as I grew older, I realized he wasn’t. I don’t have any proof, I just know. When he abandoned me at ten, I was alone for a few years before I met Farlan.”

“So… you didn’t get stuck doing this because of your mother?” (Y/N) asked carefully, almost afraid to ask in case it made him shy away from her.

“No,” Levi said slowly. “I was twenty years old when I was caught stealing from a rich friend of this brothel owner. I had made a mistake and there was no way out. He figured out who I was, a thug who was known at the time for carrying out favors for people, whether that meant stealing or killing depended on how much they were willing to pay. Unfortunately, this led them to Farlan, and he gave me a choice. Me, or my best and only friend.”

“And you chose to save your friend at the expense of yourself,” (Y/N) finished for him in a hoarse whisper, filled with horror and unbridled fury at what this man had been through. She figured she should’ve been alarmed, he had just admitted that he had blood on his hands. He was a thief, a thug, a criminal, a murderer. But (Y/N) knew those things were nearly requirements for living in the Underground and no matter how she thought about it, she couldn’t think of anything that would make this man deserve what he was going through.

(Y/N) opened her mouth to say something just as she put the last bandage in place when a loud pounding on the door startled them both. “Time’s up, you two!” The brothel owner shouted through the door.

(Y/N) shot up from the bed and rushed around to where the water and first aid kit sat, quickly packing up the little box of supplies and splashing her face with water, trying to make herself look sweaty enough to look convincing. Once everything had been packed away, (Y/N) stood and shrugged off her leather jacket, throwing it to him.

“Here, take this, it’ll keep your boss from seeing the bandages and trying to get rid of them. It’ll also give your injuries a little more protection from the bacteria in this room.”

Levi wanted to refuse, tell her he couldn’t accept a gift like this, even if it was temporary, but no words would come out as he watched the beautiful woman in front of him mess up her hair and swipe her fingers across her lips, trying to make herself look as wrecked as possible. When she finally looked the part enough to seem convincing, (Y/N) made her way to the door, turning one last time before she opened it to throw him a wink and a sweet smile.

“~Goodbye Levi, I hope we can see each other again soon.”

The lilt in her voice was fake, an act for anyone who may be listening on the other side of the door, meant to be taken as a sickly promise of more sexual endeavors to come, but he could feel the genuine emotion in her statement.

“I hope so too,” Levi said quietly after she had already left, the once comforting quiet of his room now making him feel lonely and empty.

The sound of pounding on his door woke Levi abruptly, making the raven-haired man growl in anger and annoyance. It was rare that the poor man got to sleep, not only because customers could come in at almost any time, day or night, but also because of the horrible insomnia that often plagued him. It made him even more irritable to be woken up, his body sore and his mind groggy as another round of pounding roused him further and prompted him to swing his legs over the side of the small cot he was provided when not busy fucking, and make his way to the door.

“What?” Levi snapped when he swung open the door, genuinely surprised that the pig who owned him hadn’t just burst into his room like he always did, raving about yet another customer for Levi.

“Get your shit, you’re going to the surface.”

Levi blinked. This had to be some kind of joke. The brothel owner never let anyone under his foot leave the brothel, let alone the Underground. Even the highest class noble women couldn’t request for him to come to them, the old man not trusting his prostitutes to be sent back. Especially Levi.

“Oi, your ears gone to shit now? Grab your pathetic bullshit and get out of my sight,” the man snarled, his small, watery eyes narrowed on Levi like he was the scum of the world.

Shaking himself out of it, Levi didn’t hesitate for another moment, rushing back into his room to grab the pitifully few things he had with him, including the leather jacket he had gotten from (Y/N), draping it over his shoulders to hide his healing injuries just in case it was a trick. The festival was still going on afterall, this could just be some ruse the old man set up to make the experience more interesting for the men and women who paid for him.

When Levi returned, the man pulled a gun from his jacket pocket and jerked his head, signaling Levi to follow him. Levi knew better than to risk running. In his full health he could’ve easily escaped from the man’s clutches, but with little more than a half hour of rest, his injured body, weak muscles, and the remnants of the drugs still working through his system, Levi didn’t trust himself to outrun a bullet, and knew the pig wouldn’t hesitate to fire, no matter how valuable Levi was to him.

Even though Levi kept expecting the brothel owner to turn down a secluded street and lead him right into an ambush or trick of some sort, he never did, leading Levi right to the stairs exiting the Underground. When they reached the guards at the base of the stairs, the man took two slips of paper from the inner pocket of his worn brown coat and showed it to the guard. When he was cleared to continue on, the brothel owner turned and motioned for Levi to stay close as he stomped his way up the stairs, grumbling incoherently to himself all the while.

Breaching the surface, Levi brought an arm to his face, shielding his eyes from the intensity of the sun as it attacked his face with warm, bright light. He eventually got used to it, slowly lowering his arm and rushing to catch up with his boss, who was impatiently grunting for him to hurry up.

Passing through what appeared to be a busy market square, Levi followed the brothel owner along the lively cobblestone streets until they reached a quieter part of the town, stopping along the edge of a beautiful flower field, the grassy meadow filled with colorful blossoms that secretly took Levi’s breath away.

The sound of horse hooves caught his attention, and Levi looked up only to have the air fly from his lungs when (Y/N)’s bright face came into view, the stunning woman seated astride whom he assumed to be Sashay and flanked by two armed men.

“Right on time,” the brothel owner grumbled, his little pig eyes narrowing when he saw her passive aggressive smile.

“Of course I’m on time, this is my deal, remember?”

“Yeah, yeah,” the man growled. “Are you sure you want this one? He’s my most popular, I’d hate to lose him.”

“Yes, he’s the one I want. Besides, I believe the money I’ve paid you has far exceeded the profit you have earned from having him around. I’m sure you will be able to manage.”

The man sneered at her but didn’t respond, using the muzzle of the gun to push Levi forward and digging in his pocket to fish out the same pieces of paper he had shown the guards on the stairs, handing them to (Y/N).

“Thank you, sir. I believe we are done here.”

The brothel owner slunk off, casting dark looks at her but refusing to argue as he hunkered off to head back down to the Underground, where he would continue to rot like the rat he was. Levi watched him go before turning to (Y/N), surprised by the bright smile she flashed him when he met her gaze.

“(Y/N)? What’s going on?”

(Y/N) smiled even wider and held up the pieces of paper she had been handed. One of them was the file labeling him as a slave to the brothel owner, keeping him from escaping, and the other was a bill of sale. His eyes widened when he saw her signature on the bottom of both pages, officially registering her as his new owner. He opened his mouth, about to speak when she took both pages in her hands and ripped them in half, letting the torn pages float onto the street below, forgotten, useless.

“There, you’re free now.”

Levi was at a loss for words, his mouth gaping open. “(Y/N)? What-”

“Before you ask me what my intentions are, I’m just going to tell you that I couldn’t stop thinking about you. I couldn’t stop thinking about your life, your sacrifice, your pain, and I decided I could do something about it. You are human, and damn it, you are an important one! I couldn’t just leave you there. Now, you won’t have to work for anyone but yourself. You won’t have to cater to anyone else’s needs and you can fulfill whatever dreams you have.”

“But, that must’ve cost you a fortune, to cover more than the amount of money he’s made off of using me? What about-”

“You don’t have to worry about me, Levi. I want to use my funds for good, put them towards the people who need it the most. That includes you. Especially you. I couldn’t bear the thought of you having to stay in that shit hole for even a second longer than necessary.”

“What do I do now, then?” Levi asked, trying to focus on keeping his voice steady.

“Well, you can do whatever you want now. You’re a free man, you can find a house and settle down somewhere, or you can go back to the Underground and pick up your life where you left off. You can join the military, or you can start a small business here in the square. It’s anything you want. You get to choose your life now.”

“And what if I don’t want to do any of those things?”

(Y/N) couldn’t help the smile that flashed across her face then, her heart filling with warmth. “Like I said, it’s your choice, you can do whatever you want, carve your own path, but if you want to come with me, you’re always welcome to.”

Levi’s lip twitched and he took a step forward, reaching up to pat Sashay’s muzzle as he got closer. “Alright, I’ll follow you.”

(Y/N) beamed before turning around to nod at each one of her guards, dismissing them. When they had left, presumably returning to (Y/N)’s family estate, she reached down for him, her hand extended for him to take. Placing his rough palm into her warm hand, he allowed her to help him up into the saddle behind her, his arms wrapping around her waist to keep himself secure as (Y/N) kicked Sashay into an easy canter. Sighing blissfully, Levi let himself relax, his chin coming down to rest on (Y/N)’s shoulder as they made their way home, together.

Levi had never expected to see the day when he would willingly go with a noble, but then again, he never thought he’d ever meet a noble like (Y/N). Now, as he felt her warmth soak into his chest, he knew he’d made the right decision.

Levi finally felt the remnant effects of the drugs in his system fade away as the sun beams broke through the fluffy clouds in the sky, leaving his mind clear. He was making this decision all on his own, nothing left to impair his judgement, and no matter what, he knew he would never regret the path he chose to take just so long as (Y/N) stayed by his side.

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beomcoups · 3 years

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Legal Briefs

For @nct-writers #WorkIt event

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: lawyer!Taeil (NCT) x wife!reader 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐫𝐞: fluff, smut, small bit of angst, corporate au 𝐑𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠: R (18+) 𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: swearing, nail digging, riding, unprotected sex, creampie, pet names and slight exhibitionism 𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝𝐬: 1.5k 𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: Taeil is stressed out over his case and you help him relive some stress.

AN: Thank you to @sugasbabiie and @sunmisexual for reading over this for me 🖤

Taeil Moon is one of the most prominent corporate lawyers in your country, and you understand how hard he works every day to maintain that reputation. You were a lawyer yourself when you met him, so you know the ins and outs of the legalities and how stressful it can be defending clients. Your first time seeing him was on the opposite end of the court, duking it out to protect your clients involved in a breach of contract. You may have won that battle, but in the end, Taeil won your heart, and you left the corporate life behind to be a housewife.

You walk into the swanky thirty-floor office building, and you’re greeted by the security guard Brad as you make your way to the elevator. You are holding Taeil’s favorite lunch, a Dosirak with kimbap, Korean egg rolls, with rice and kimchi that’s secured in a heated lunch box. It’s a nice day outside, and what would be better than spending lunch with your husband?

You hum your way up to the 20th floor, being greeted by the receptionists as the elevator doors open. The anticipation is building, excitement and butterflies you feel in your stomach are brewing as you make your way to his office. You speak to everyone that makes eye contact with you. Everyone knows you as the boss’s wife, a hotshot lawyer, giving it all up for love.

“Hi, Y/N,” his secretary greets you nervously as you approach her desk. “He seems a bit stressed out today. That case with the pharmaceutical company isn’t going well, and I’m pretty sure I heard papers flying around.”

This concerns you, as it is not like Taeil to lose his cool like that. You thank her and tap quietly on the office door, waiting to hear his voice before entering.

“Yes?” His smooth voice makes your heart jump.

You open the door, and your eyes widen with shock. There are papers and folders all over the floor. Taeil is lying on the sofa, his suit jacket covering his face, his arms folded on his chest.

“I take it you’re having a bad day?” You ask gently, setting the lunch down on his desk.

His face lights up when he lays his eyes on you, jacket falling to the floor as he jumps up to greet you.

“I wasn’t expecting you here,” he replies before getting up and kissing your cheek. “I would’ve cleaned up.”

You lift your eyebrow and start putting the files back in their respective folders, Taeil helping you and apologizing profusely.

“You don’t need to apologize,” you wave him off. “But this is not like you; what happened?”

His expression changes, his eyebrows furrowing with worry. He takes a deep breath before putting the last envelope into the bookshelf.

“I am missing a critical piece of evidence, a part of a contract that proves my client’s innocence,” Taeil begins, clutching onto the desk. “I know who to subpoena, but the judge is being a real asshole and won’t allow me to access those documents. So my client might lose, and then they’ll drop me, which means bye to our house.”

He removes his tie and takes a sip from his water bottle, his Adam's apple moving up and down, filling your mind with dirty thoughts.

“Listen,” you redirect your focus to his problem. “There’s no guarantee that you are going to lose this case. Why don’t you eat the lunch I brought, and we will figure it out, okay?”

He nods and kisses you on the forehead, his way of saying thank you that still makes you feel warm inside. You watch him take out his lunch, and you start to eat yours, making small talk about your day as you dig through the eggrolls.

“When did you make this, babe?” Taeil asks, mouth stuffed with rich and kimchi. “You were cleaning up when I left for work.”

“I made it right before I came up here,” you say proudly, feeding him some of your kimbap. “I get tired of eating lunch by myself, and I wanted to see you. Looks like you needed me too.”

He gives you a small smile, making your soul sing, and you talk more about the case as you clear out your food containers. Taeil mentions that he has been trying to no avail for the past week to get the evidence. Watching him stressing himself out hurts you, as you know how hard he has worked on this case, and you want to see him succeed. His eyes glued to the papers in front of him, skimming over everything to find a possible loophole. You can’t help but notice how sexy he looks, focused on his work, his jaw clenching as his frustration mounts.

“Hey, babe,” you get his attention, taking off your sweater. “I’m going to help you relax, okay?”

He nods, his shoulders still tense up from reading over the paperwork. You move behind him, relaxing your hands on his shoulders before you begin to massage them, making him feel more at ease. You start unbuttoning his shirt, reaching down to rub his chest while leaving kisses on his neck.

“Well, this is one way to relax,�� Taeil hums, setting down his pen. He moves his head and kisses you deeply, his hands gracing your face softly, pulling you deeper into his rapture of love. You make a move to sit on his lap, taking off your shirt, exposing your favorite bra that pushes up your breasts just right.

“Was this always the plan?” He smirks, leaving kisses down your neck. His lips suck on your sweet-tasting skin, wanting more of you in his big office.

“And if it was?” You move in front of him, sitting on his lap, and your skirt hikes over your hips. “What are you going to do about it?”

He chuckles and kisses you more, removing your bra and throwing it across the office. You lift and reach down, undoing his pants and lowering his briefs, feeling the growing bulge hardening along your slit.

“I hate to rush, but I have to be in a meeting in twenty minutes,” Taeil’s breathing hitches as your hand touches his manhood. You rub his precum along his length before lifting your bottom and sinking on his cock.

“This won’t take long; I promise,” you moan, giving yourself a few seconds to get used to his size before bouncing on him and enjoying the feeling of him being inside of you. His body tenses at your increase in speed, and his fingers massage your clit softly. You unexpectedly let out a loud moan, and he covers your mouth with his hand.

“I know this feels good, bouncing on my hard dick, but you are going to have to keep it down, princess,” Taeil commands, increasing his speed.

Taeil calling you princess sends you over the edge, and you reach your peak, not slowing down until you are good and satisfied. Your eyes never leave each other, whispering I love yous and trading meaningful kisses. Taeil’s head lolls back, whispering songs of praise as you continue to ride him on his office chair.

“Baby, I’m close,” he whines, his hands gripping your hips. You grind on him hard, and you release again for the second time, Taeil following right behind you, spilling deep inside of you. As your movements slow down, he kisses you lovingly, and his flaccid cock slips out of you. You're still trying to catch your breath when you climb off of him to clean yourself up.

“Mr Moon?” His secretary’s voice booms through the speaks, startling you both. “Your meeting starts in five minutes.”

You finish getting dressed, helping him put his tie back on, and kissing him goodbye before heading out the door. You look at the documents on the desk one last time, and something catches your eye that makes you stop dead in your tracks.

“Babe.” You pick up the photograph, inspecting it thoroughly. “What’s the name of the judge?”

“Judge Sooman,” he responds, preparing himself for his meeting. “Why?”

“This wouldn’t happen to be the judge in the 17th court, would it?”

You pull out your phone and look him up yourself, confirming your suspicions.

“Okay, I know that look, Y/N,” Taeil comments, a puzzled look on his face. “What’s up?”

“This judge used to give me shit when I was practicing, but I always found a way to get around him,” you start. “There was talk about him being a crooked judge and being paid off by companies, but I could never confirm it until now. Look at the picture.”

You show him the photograph of the rival company at an event, pointing at the missing piece of the puzzle: the judge and the company’s CEO, arm in arm taking a picture. “That’s why the judge is shutting you down, babe,” you confirm. “He has ties to the other guys. Judge Sooman should have recused himself a long time ago.”

Taeil looks at you, amazed that his wife was able to figure out why he had this roadblock. “God, what would I do without you?”

“You’d still be losing to me in court.” You kiss him goodbye once more, letting him prepare to attend his meeting. You close the door, and his secretary smiles at you and motions for you to come closer to her.

“You should be more careful in there, dear,” she advises you. “The whole office heard you.”

203 notes · View notes

spacedikut · 4 years

Text

lockdown lovers ; spencer reid

pairing: spencer reid (criminal minds) x f!reader

summary: lockdown!au. spencer goes from expecting his days to be filled with books, books and more books to books, an asshole cat, and a cute anonymous neighbour. 4857 words

a/n: i was so excited about this and stayed up writing it so i hope you like it too :)

masterlist

It’s three days into lockdown when Spencer notices the cat.

It’s a Maine Coon, he recognises instantly, but there’s this distinctive… dead look in it’s eyes. The body is huge – so fluffy it looks like the cat has a mane, ears invariably up straight and large enough that the eyes look beady in comparison. A mixture of white and grey throughout, the cat spends its days lounging across the windowsill of the apartment in the building next to Spencer’s.

He’s fascinated. How can a cat be so big, so ugly, yet so lovely?

He has to know more.

If he was anyone else, he’d argue the obsession is the fruit of going stir-crazy in his apartment. A lack of seeing his friends combined with having to work cases from home would be the perfect justification for Spencer to move his work station to the window facing the cat.

But this is Spencer. He’s happy being stuck home. He just likes the look of the cat.

He spends a good twenty minutes rifling through his stationary to find a piece of paper and the appropriate pen to jot a note for the cat owner. He thinks the owner must be stuck home, too, so if he sticks the note to his window and waits a day, he could know the cat’s name within twenty four hours.

They’ve had plenty of staring contests. Spencer should know his rival’s name.

So he does. He takes his time writing out the words “I like your cat. Do they have a name?” clearly on the paper, then spends a good five minutes deciding where on the window to stick the message.

He decides on the upper left corner. You won’t miss it.

The cat blinks sleepily at him as they watch Spencer tape the question up.

There’s an answer within three hours.

Spencer is too excited to be embarrassed at how enthused he was when he noticed the response.

Or when he saw the name.

Hi there! His name is Mr Darcy :) He’s a dick x

Spencer can’t help but profile the writing, the syntax, the grammar.

The first thing he notices is there’s a feminine lilt to the way you write – you’re a woman, most likely. The writing is slightly messy, indicating high intelligence, and the use of a smiley face and a kiss makes him think you’re younger in age. If you live alone, which you must because you live in a one bedroom apartment, he can safely guess you’re around his age.

And Mr Darcy… you’re a bookworm. At least for romance and the classics.

Spencer likes Mr Darcy. He has so many questions, suddenly, like how is Mr Darcy a dick and how old is he and why does he never seem to move from his position by the window and what is your name and who are you and do you happen to read a lot of books? Like Ray Bradbury? Please say yes.

He shocks himself. Maybe this quarantine is getting to him more than he realises. He hasn’t felt this excited since Maeve.

He hasn’t been this intrigued since Maeve. And the circumstances are similar, he realises.

No. Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, Spence.

He worries himself into a spiral when he begins thinking about how to reply. As if she can hear his whining, Penelope calls him.

They’ve made it a habit to call one another a lot. She recently taught him how to use his webcam and has been encouraging him to write more on his computer, rather than by hand.

“Good afternoon, my favourite Doctor.” She sings. He hears some shuffling in the background and can tell she’s baking.

“I need your help with something.” He cuts straight to the chase.

Her interest is piqued, “Oh? I am all ears.”

“Remember the cat I mentioned?”

“The ugly-but-beautiful majestic beast that, if you believed in reincarnation, would’ve been a high class gentleman in his past life? Yes. I think about him every day.”

“His name’s Mr Darcy.”

She lets out a screech, a mixture of a groan and moan that is filled with pure glee. “Of course he’s called Mr Darcy! Tell me everything. How do you know?”

He’s clearly impressed with himself when he says, “I asked.”

“Whoa.” Penelope freezes in her kitchen. “Are you, Doctor Germaphobe, breaking the lockdown rules?”

Spencer feels insulted. “No! Never! I stuck a note to my window, like in that viral tweet you sent me.”

She chuckles, “Well, I already told you I could’ve told you everything about Mr Darcy and the owner if you wanted me to. I am incredible.”

“I appreciate the gesture, Garcia-“

“But it’s morally wrong. Yeah, yeah, heard it all before. What have you said back?”

“That’s what I need your help with.”

Garcia is only a little surprised he’s asking her and not Derek. But, then, as much as she loves Derek, he’s a bit too.. much for someone like Spencer when it comes to love. Spencer approaches people gently, hesitantly, often giving the impression he doesn’t even want to be there.

Derek can have anyone on their knees within minutes.

Different tactics, that’s all.

“Alright, pretty boy. How long have you been talking? Purely through window messages? What else has been said?”

“Well,” He begins, clearing his throat, making eye contact with Mr Darcy, “We’ve only spoken once. When I asked for Mr Darcy’s name. You know, studies have shown that animals can form lifelong friendships with other animals, even if they’re not from the same species.”

“Spencer.”

��Most research has focused on chimpanzees, baboons, horses, hyenas, elephants, bats, and dolphins - but there’s no reason to think that friendship is exclusive to these species.”

“Spencer!”

“What?”

“You’ve spoken to them once?”

“Her. Spoken to her once. And it wasn’t speaking, it was writing.”

There’s a long sigh down the phone. “First of all, how do you know the owner’s a girl?”

There’s movement in Mr Darcy’s apartment. Spencer stares. “The way she writes.”

“Uhuh,” Spencer can hear her stirring something through the phone, “And what was the last thing said?”

Spencer’s eyes narrow – is that a person? Is that the owner? Is that her? Oh my god.

“Spencer? You still there?” Garcia looks to her laptop, checking the call is still connected.

“Yeah, I’m here. Sorry. The last thing she said was his name is Mr Darcy and he’s a dick.”

“Oh,” Garcia smirks, “It’s sexy hearing you say dick.”

In normal circumstances, Spencer would register her comment and give a very distinct huh, but he’s distracted.

He sees Mr Darcy meow. A hand appears, petite, with fingernails painted yellow that have smiley faces on them. She brushes Mr Darcy’s fur back, pulling so the skin around his eyes tugs up high and he looks stupid. He seems to like it, though.

She must like smileys, he thinks.

Mr Darcy stands and stretches. He’s alarmingly long.

It’s silent on Garcia’s end, where she looks confused at the sudden silence. She checks again that the call is still connected.

“Spence?”

“Still here. Sorry. I thought I saw her.”

“Oooo,” She’s all giddy, “What does she look like? Is she pretty?”

“I couldn’t see her properly. I can tell she’s too cool for me already. This was stupid.” He sighs, “Forget I said anything. I’ll take knowing Mr Darcy’s name and move on with my life.”

Spencer moves to hang up, but is interrupted by a loud “No!” being shouted at him by Garcia.

“No, Spencer! No! You write something back to her right now and you form a friendship with someone that isn’t one of your colleagues. I love you with my whole heart, and you know that, but it would be good for you to expand your social circle!” She grins and bites her tongue between her teeth, “Aaaand.. this could be the start of a quarantine romance. God, I miss dating.”

At the mention of romance, Spencer visibly flinches. “I’ll see what I can do. I gotta go, Garcia, thanks for calling.”

“Love you. Please marry her so Mr Darcy can be the ring bearer.”

And she hangs up. He’s left contemplating whether he should respond, and what he should respond, as he watches the empty space where Mr Darcy is absent.

It must be dinner time for him.

+++

I’m curious as to how someone named Mr Darcy can be a dick.

That’s a good response, right?

Right?

It lets you know he gets the reference, he knows who Mr Darcy is named after, and leads you to continue the conversation. It’s perfect.

It’s taken him nearly two hours to come up with it. He feels exhausted.

He sticks it on the window, where Mr Darcy has returned to, and huffs out a breath.

He reminds himself to be calm and cool. This is simply a way to pass the time during quarantine, there’s no need to put too much pressure on himself to think it’s anything more or to put more effort than is necessary (he says, after spending two hours formulating a response).

Calm and cool. Cool and calm. Neither are words Spencer would ever use to describe himself.

Spencer stays up until nearly 1am reading. Just before he sleeps, he walks to the kitchen to get some water, and can’t resist checking to see if you’ve responded.

You have. He ignores the way his heart speeds up.

He used to share the windowsill with my other cat and a bunch of plants. Now he bites anything that attempts to move near him. He also likes to vomit on my pillow. My single pillow.

Spencer chuckles as he reads it. He remembers when the window was full of plants, and how one day they all just… disappeared. He assumed the person moved out, but now it’s funny to think that you had to move them all because Mr Darcy demanded he own that space.

He doesn’t recall ever seeing another cat.

Well, now he has to respond. He needs to know about the other cat!

He imagines Derek coming to him in an apparition, like some sort of angel, and saying, calm and cool, kid. Calm and cool.

Spencer decides he’ll reply in the morning. Cause he’s calm and cool, and totally doesn’t want to know anything and everything about you and the two cats you live with.

+++

The messages continue for days. Spencer learns a lot, despite his “attempts” to not profile you (“attempts” as in there was really no attempt).

He learns you were given Mr Darcy by a friend, he’s two years old, and your other cat is the recently adopted, affectionately named Stupid Sally. She’s a ginger cat, estimated to be at least four years old, and you refuse to believe there’s anything going on in that tiny head of hers.

Spencer catches a glimpse of Sally a couple of days after he learns her name. She jumps up beside Mr Darcy, bonks her head on the window, then is whacked by Mr Darcy and falls from the windowsill. Sally doesn’t make another attempt.

He still hasn’t seen you, though. The longer he talks to you, the more he wants Garcia to send him everything she can find on you.

But he has restraint. And fear.

He wants to know more, wants to learn more about the anonymous girl in the opposite building. He doesn’t even know your name, and he assumes you don’t know his, and he’s not entirely sure what number apartment you live in.

He considers asking to convert your conversation from post-it notes on windows to hand-written letters, but that reminds Spencer too much of Maeve and he can’t handle that.

Do you know how difficult it is for Spencer Reid, with all his knowledge and facts and ramblings, to limit himself and how much he says?

It’s torture.

The sun is blinding when Spencer pulls his curtain back, eyes navigating to see if there’s a new message waiting.

I haven’t asked, do you have any cats? Any pets? Mr Darcy would be a terrible boyfriend but Sally could use a lover :)

Before he can stop himself, his mind is whirring with the possible implications of your message. Does this mean you want to meet? You want to know about him as much as he wants to know about you? You’re interested?

He needs to call Penelope. He wants to talk to you so badly, learn everything there is to know, but he can’t bring himself to do it. The situation reminds him of Maeve and, although it’s been so long, he’s still mourning. He’s not sure he’s ready.

Turns out he doesn’t need to worry. You’ve got your own plan.

+++

“So,” Your friend sighs, flopping onto the couch, “You got his number? His name? Anything?”

“No,” You pout, “Not even sure he’s a guy.”

“That’s never stopped you before.”

You playfully gasp. “I don’t know what you’re implying, but I am insulted.”

She chuckles. She knows all about your curious neighbour - she’s the one that encouraged you to reply and keep replying. And now she’s the one trying to convince you to form an actual friendship.

“Just put your number on your window.”

“Do you know how dangerous that is?!” You scold, “Anyone could see it!”

“Yeah, but neighbour guy could see it. And text you. And be really cute.”

You can’t help but glance behind you, into your bedroom window, where the infamous window is. Mr Darcy lounges, completely zonked out with the sunshine keeping him warm.

“What’s the worst that can happen? Some random people text you and you, what, block them? That’s it. Easy.”

Life is so easy for extroverts, you think.

You grab your notebook, rip a piece out and jot down your number before you have a change of heart. You’re essentially double messaging through the medium of your window messaging. But who cares?

What have you got to lose?

+++

Spencer stares at your phone number for way too long. Mr Darcy, as if sensing Spencer’s battle, lazily lifts a paw and rests it against the paper, pushing it into the window.

Spencer dials Penelope’s number straight from memory.

“I was beginning to think you’d died, Spencer-“

“Is it a terrible idea to start texting with Mr Darcy’s owner?”

“What?!” She exclaims, “No! No no no no no! That is an incredible idea! Spencer, please tell me you’re texting her!”

Penelope’s excitement gives him a rush of confidence. She’s always so supportive, so encouraging. Penelope is the best.

“I’m staring at her phone number. I just- we know what happened last time..” He trails off, voice meek. He wants to pretend he isn’t constantly thinking about the worst outcome, but he is. He’s scared.

Penelope’s voice is soft down the phone, “Spence. You have nothing to be afraid of, okay? I’m so proud of you for even considering texting her. But if you truly think you’re not ready, maybe you’re not. But remember, this doesn’t have to be anything you don’t want it to. You can keep the conversation to cats and cats only.”

Spencer smiles even though she can’t see him. She’s right. It doesn’t have to be anything and, honestly, it’s likely it won’t be anything – after all, Spencer isn’t exactly confident when it comes to women.

She might also have a boyfriend. A husband. A wife. He doesn’t know.

He realises he’s started thinking way too deep about someone he doesn’t even know the name of.

“Does that silence mean you’re gonna text her?” Penelope questions, suspense and hope clear in her voice.

“Yeah,” He replies, glancing at Mr Darcy, “I am.”

+++

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Hello. I’m Spencer.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner] hello??????? do i know a spencer?

Embarrassment flushes through him. What a weird way to introduce yourself, he chastises himself, Great first impression.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s owner]: Sorry. I’m the one that’s been asking about your cats through the window.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: really? prove it

He wants to feel insulted that you’re so suspicious, but is simultaneously impressed that you’re so cautious. It makes sense to worry after posting your number for anyone to see.

[To: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: Of course. I’ll put a note on my window with my number now.

He does just that, shuffling quickly and frantically like he does when his mind is moving a thousand miles a minute during a case. He slaps the note against the window, unable to resist hovering on the off chance he spots you.

His phone buzzes.

[From: Mr Darcy and Sally’s Owner]: oh hi spencer! im Y/N, owner of Mr Darcy and sally :)

He can’t help but chuckle at the sudden change of tone. You take stranger danger seriously, it seems.

Why does he find that so endearing?

He’s getting ahead of himself, again. Calm and cool.

They pick up the conversation from where the last note left off, where you asked Spencer if he has any pets of his own. He finds it much easier to talk to you like this, rambling and all, which you don’t seem to mind. Your texting style is distinctively different to his, making his phone vibrate multiple times as you send each sentence of your message separately. He prefers writing chunks full of information, all with perfect grammar and punctuation.

You teach him what ‘wtf’ means and when he sends a meme to Penelope with that caption she loses her damn mind.

She decides she loves you there and then.

A friendship blossoms. It’s odd, he doesn’t know what you look like and you admit to catching a glimpse of him when he showed you his number through the window, but other than that you have no idea what the other looks like.

You know so much about eachother’s lives, though, and so much about eachother. You know which apartment you both live in, he’s got a whole list of reasons why Mr Darcy is a dick and he kind of agrees, you even know that he’s an FBI agent.

Then it happens.

He discovers what you look like.

He wants to play it off as an accident, he really does, but that would be a complete and utter lie.

The area under the window opposite yours has become his new sanctuary. He spends way too much time there, reading and whatnot, and he tries to pretend that it’s so he can watch Mr Darcy all day every day, but there’s always been a part of him that wants you to walk by. Maybe stop right in the centre of the window, pause, let him get a good look.

That’s exactly what happens.

He’s doing some “light” reading before he moves to his bed, where he will continue to read, and he sees the main light in your bedroom switch on. You always have a light on – you’re scared of the dark, just like him, but the main light catches his attention because Mr Darcy looks back and meows.

Someone’s in the room.

For some reason, he can’t tear his eyes away. It’s not the first time he’s noticed someone flutter around the room, never managing to really show themselves. It could the best friend you told Spencer about, the one that you’ve been stuck living with the past month or so.

But it’s not.

A girl appears, wearing an oversized t-shirt and shorts with still-wet hair. She dangles a cat toy before Mr Darcy, which he swipes at twice, then looks away, uninterested.

She rolls her eyes at that, then starts dancing and mouthing along to a song Spencer doesn’t recognise. Now he can’t stop staring – she’s captivating, whoever she is, as she prances around her room, arms flailing around and serenading a very unimpressed Mr Darcy.

This has to be you, he thinks. He doesn’t know why, but this has to be you.

Your passionate singing dies out. It’s the end of the song. Before the next one can begin, you happen to look up and through the window, straight at Spencer.

And you disappear.

You collapse. You definitely scream a little, dramatically falling to the floor and hiding under the window with your back to the wall.

Holy shit. You think. He’s cute and he saw me singing to my asshole cat.

He must think I’m crazy.

Spencer keeps staring at the now empty space of your window, Mr Darcy having been spooked by your exit.

He thinks he might be in love.

+++

Neither of you know what to say to one another after what transpired.

You’re too embarrassed, Spencer feels a little star-struck, and you’re both speechless.

Neither of you expected the other to be so.. attractive.

Your phone is thrown in your lap. “Do it. Do it now.”

In a daze, you blink up at your friend, “I can’t.”

“Don’t make me threaten you.”

You blink.

“I know where he lives. I will obliterate the lockdown rules to go talk to him and drag him here, then you can deal with this face-to-face.”

Your mouth falls open. “Are you insane?”

She unlocks your phone, opens your conversation with Spencer, and places it in your hand.

“Yes.”

+++

[From: Y/N :)]: did you at least enjoy the performance…..

Spencer’s whole body prickles when he sees you’ve texted him.

Maybe Penelope’s manifesting did work.

[To: Y/N :)]: I did. I didn’t expect our face reveals to be so…

I honestly don’t know what to say.

[From: Y/N :)]: s doctor reid speechless? am i that talented?

Spencer lies back on his couch, beaming at his phone like a teenager in a cheesy chick flick.

[To: Y/N :)]: You’re very talented. Mr Darcy clearly disagrees, but don’t listen to him.

And just like that, you’re back in the flow of things.

+++

When July rolls around, you and Spencer have been talking every day since March. Despite the monotonous, repetitive days, Spencer wakes up giddy when he sees you’ve texted him. He usually wakes up earlier than you, you have a habit of playing games or watching television until the early hours of the morning, and he loves to send you a fact to wake up to.

Your favourite are the animal facts. He got Amazon Prime just so he could buy a plethora of animal books and watch animal documentaries. All for you.

At one point, you evolved to phone calls. They don’t happen often and the first one was while you were drunk, but they’re fun for the both of you.

It had been a Saturday, you and your friend were having a movie marathon with wine and of course she brought up Spencer. She choked on her drink when you told her you haven’t heard his voice or seen him since the incident.

“You should call him,” She slurred, “Tonight.”

“He’s working on his jigsaw. I’m not going to interrupt.”

She gave you this incredulous look, asking Really?

“What?! I have respect for him and his jigsaws!”

“Have respect for yourself and how cute he is!”

“That doesn’t make sense!”

She sighed, placing her glass on the coffee table with a clunk, “Picture this: you’re helping him with the jigsaw.”

You couldn’t hide the slight upturn of your lips at the thought. You both love jigsaws, doing one with him would be stupidly romantic to you.

“Yeah.” She nodded ridiculously, “That ain’t gonna happen if you don’t call him!”

In your drunken state, you realised she’s right. You called him that night for a total of ten minutes before you passed out after calling him super handsome.

You both went to sleep feeling warm inside. Spencer called you again the next day, where the call lasted nearly two hours, and it went from there.

But now the lockdown rules are being eased. People are going back to work, meaning establishments like restaurants and hairdressers are opening up with limited capacity, all breathing beings expected to wear a mask.

Neither of you have mentioned actually meeting one another. You’re too nervous. What if he doesn’t like you? What if the image he’s created of you in his head is way better than you are in real life and he’s disappointed? What if he doesn’t want to meet you?

Spencer worries about the exact same things.

So neither of you say anything.

+++

It doesn’t happen often, but sometimes Spencer’s mail gets sent to the wrong address. Perhaps to his neighbour, the person living across the hall, or someone on a completely different floor.

Twice, Spencer’s mail has been delivered to the apartment building next door. The building he now exclusively calls “Y/N’s building”.

Now it’s three times.

Unphased by the mask on his face, Spencer glances around the lobby of your apartment building and wonders what your routine is when you get home. Do you immediately check for packages? Look at the noticeboard? Or do you go straight up to your apartment?

Spencer walks to the reception desk, smiling politely even though the person can’t see it.

“Hi, I’m from the building next door. I think my mail was accidentally sent here?”

He clicks a few buttons, types a few things, then flippantly asks, “Apartment number?”

“Twenty-three.”

“Let me go get it.”

He takes his time leaving his chair and wandering through a door. Spencer glances around. There’s a few people, all wearing masks (Thank God), doing their own thing.

There’s two girls next to him. He eavesdrops, because he’s bored.

“I’m too used to living with you now,” The girl facing him pouts, “I don’t want to go.”

The girl with her back to him laughs, light and sweet, “You live a block away.”

“You know Sally is gonna miss me.”

Sally? As in…

“She’s gonna miss you only because you feed her too much and now she’s fat.”

Wait.

“C’mon, Y/N-“

Spencer blocks out the rest cause holy hell. You’re right there. You’re standing right next to Spencer, in all your glory, and you have no idea that he’s right there, too.

Should he say something? Should he introduce himself? Should he..

“Here, sir. My apologies for the mix-up.” The receptionist re-appears, handing Spencer his mail.

“Thank you.”

And Spencer leaves.

Except he doesn’t.

He stops outside the reception entrance, takes out his phone, and texts you.

[To: Y/N :)] This is weird but I’m right outside your building. I think you’re in the foyer and I’m too scared to approach you.

Two minutes pass before the building doors fly open.

Your head swivels back and forth. When you find Spencer, adorable and awkward Spencer, he can tell you’re grinning from the way your eyes bunch up under your mask. God, he knows you have the most beautiful smile. Everything about you is beautiful.

“Hi,” You breathe.

Spencer mouths a silent hi. You’ve taken his breath away.

“I-um. It’s good to see you in person.” Your voice is soft. It’s soft, and smooth, and so much prettier in real life. It’s already pretty through the phone, but the real version shoots straight to his heart.

He gulps, “Yeah, it’s.. Unexpected, but nice.” The corners of his mouth quirk up and he can’t tear his eyes away from you, “You’re even more gorgeous in real life.”

The compliment rolls off his tongue naturally because it’s true and from the second he spotted you he’s lost all logical thinking.

“I am?” You ask, gentle and hesitant, almost asking are you sure you mean me?

Spencer blushes, somewhat embarrassed by his confession. But he meant it, Spencer’s not the type to say things he doesn’t mean, and you don’t give him time to regret it-

“Would you like to get some coffee? If you’re free now?”

Would it be too much if he screams Yes?

“Yes. I’m free,” He ignores the mail in his hands, stuffing it in his satchel, “But let’s avoid Café Nero, I assume you still haven’t recovered from the nightmare latte you had there.”

You grin, which makes Spencer feel fuzzy, flattered that he remembers anecdotes from your texts.

Of course he remembers. You remember he has an eidetic memory.

You shyly brush your hair behind your ears, both sides, and Spencer spots the bright red of them. You’re flushed, just like him, and it fills him with confidence to know you’re the same mixture of excited and anxious about meeting him in person.

“W-what about your friend?” Spencer gestures vaguely to where he assumes she’d be, “Would she mind?”

“She’s the reason I ran out here, so… I think she’d be mad if we didn’t leave her behind.”

You smile at one another, a few feet apart. Spencer’s bumped into by the opening door of your apartment complex and stumbles, apologising profusely to the unimpressed woman that just stares at him.

Through the entire ordeal you watch Spencer, only him, and can’t stop the radiant, love-filled look on your face.

Maybe Mr Darcy isn’t such a dick when he’s the reason Spencer came into your life.

#spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid x you #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fanfiction #mine #oh to be spencer reid's neighbour that he falls completely in love with during the lockdown

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andraaste · 3 years

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I am not your enemy - Lance fanfiction part 15

No, you’re not dreaming, here is indeed chapter 15 ! I sincerely hope you’ll enjoy it 💕 (and please, forgive me for the quality of the translation 😭)

Chapter 15 : We’re going to make a deal, you and me

- Good evening, my little dragon.

I closed my eyes for a moment to savor the sound of his voice in my ear, feeling like an eternity had passed since the last time we were alone. At this probably late hour, the corridor was quiet, there was hardly anyone to surprise us which helped me to let myself go and take advantage of his proximity.

- Good evening, I answered, amused to hear him call me like that a second time, the first being when his ice had mingled with my breath.

I felt his lips in turn sketch a big smile close to my head. Running one of his hands to the doorknob of his bedroom door, he opened it before placing his two palms on my hips to push me into the room, leaving me no possibility of stealing away. Once inside, he closed the door behind us with a snap. I took the opportunity to finally turn to him and remained speechless for a moment.

Lance was visibly coming out of the shower as his loose hair was dripping onto his black t-shirt and the rolled up towel he had laid casually on the back of his neck. His locks, an almost bluish white, fell wildly on his face, making him look younger than I had ever seen him before.

I literally thought I was fainting when he looked at me with his eyes both icy and burning under the barrier of his frivolous locks.

My God, he was so beautiful.

- How are you feeling ? I went to see you in the infirmary but you were snoring pretty loud, I didn't want to wake you up, he said seriously before bursting into a frank laugh at my bewildered look.

I really hoped I hadn't done this.

- I'm much better, thank you, I replied, giving him a grimace in passing. And at least I hope you liked it, otherwise I don't know how to go about looking attractive.

Approaching with a bemused air, a thin amused smile stuck on his face, he slipped his hands under my neck until his fingers came to mingle fiercely at the base of my scalp, thus tilting my head in his direction and giving birth to light currents of energy on the smallest bit of skin he touched.

- I'm really reassured, he confessed intensely, before resuming in a much lighter tone. Your snores are the sexiest I've heard, don't doubt it. Besides, if you hadn't been bleeding, I would most likely have had a hard time resisting your charm.

I couldn’t help but laugh in my turn at his nonsense. I wasn't sure if I'd ever seen him so relaxed before, but I liked it more than I dared admit.

- In that case, I'll try to be careful not to look too attractive, you shouldn't give up.

As if to prove my words right, his intense gaze drifted shamelessly to my lips, giving rise to a new sensation in my lower stomach. His expression, meanwhile become indecipherable, literally hung on me at the slightest of his movements, my heart pounding so hard I was sure it could almost become audible.

But it was with disappointment that I felt him slowly let go of me, brushing my neck with a tiny involuntary caress.

- You’re right. I unfortunately have the impression of not being far from it, at times.

Suddenly absent, he lost himself for a few seconds in contemplating the void behind me, which allowed me to observe him more openly. I was about to answer him when his voice echoed between us again.

- You look much healthier than yesterday, anyway. Besides, were you able to eat something ?

Oh. How could I tell him that the only thought I had in my head when I woke up in the infirmary had been to see him, before even thinking of anything else ?

Realizing he was right, I rubbed a hand on my stomach as a low gurgling sound was heard.

- Uh... not yet, I said, caught in the act. In fact, I didn't have time to take a shower either.

A new smile surreptitiously dawned on his lips.

- Was the little human in too much of a hurry to find me ?

- No matter what, I defended myself, looking away, the blush rising in my cheeks. I just walked past your room before arriving at mine. And then, you didn't give me the choice to enter, I'll call you back.

- It's true that you seemed completely against it, he said ironically.

This idiot was having too much fun with the situation for my liking, so I decided to fake my departure.

- Well now that I'm gone, I'll be able to go take care of all that. I'll probably see you tomorrow, Lance.

My light tone didn't seem to baffle him for a second. I walked around him to make my way to the exit while watching him out of the corner of my eye casually remove the wet towel from his neck. But, when my fingers were about to engage the handle, a dark-skinned hand suddenly entered my field of vision, coming to rest with authority on the wooden frame, keeping the door firmly closed. His breath tickled my cheek.

- Alright, we're going to make a deal, you and me, he began. You can go take a shower, but then you meet me here. I take care of the rest.

- When you say "the rest", do you mean that I take my meal in your room ?

- It's almost midnight, the refectory is closed but Karuto is still in the kitchen. I know very well that he will make an effort for you, on the other hand he will never let you eat on the spot when he has just cleaned the room.

I did indeed imagine Karuto reacting that way, which made me laugh.

- What if I don't accept ?

- Who said you have the choice ? he wondered, breaking into a broad, confident smile.

I crossed my arms, an eyebrow raised and an amused pout.

- Isn't a deal just supposed to be accepted by both parties ?

He withdrew his hand before shrugging, feigning innocence.

- Call it what you want as long as your butt comes back quickly here, and know that I will not hesitate to come and get you myself if necessary, he concluded with an air that didn’t leave the leisure refuse.

This man was just incorrigible, but for once I must say I was ready to listen to him very wisely.

Once my shower was finished, I quickly went to my room to put on some clean clothes. Was I stressed about joining Lance ?

Totally.

With a lump in my stomach, I knocked on his door and then entered without waiting for an answer. Leaning over a book with an ancient cover, the dragon seemed to be searching for something in these pages yellowed by time. Crouching on the ground, his long top hair fell over his eyes, hiding part of his concentrated face.

I walked into the room as he carefully closed the book, straightening up in the process.

- Hey, I said softly, stopping near him. What are you looking for ?

Seeming relieved to see me come back, he grabbed me delicately by the waist to plant a kiss on the top of my head, making my poor heart resume its frantic run.

- Hey, he replied calmly while releasing me, as if nothing had happened. I go through all of the HQ books relating to the three great races of Eldarya, including dragons and aengels, but I can't find anything similar to what's happening between our powers. I almost wonder if this phenomenon isn’t totally apart, even if it’s quite insane.

Tilting my head to the side, I observed the old cover he still held between his fingers before noticing that the title was written in Greek. Turning my head in the direction of the bookcase that adorned the wall beside me, I was amazed to discover that it was filled with a multitude of alphabets that I was unable to read.

I returned my attention to him.

- Maybe this is information that has been intentionally suppressed ?

He seemed to think about my guess, his gaze in turn lost on the covers.

- At the point where we are, I think anything is possible.

He tried to push the wicks that blocked his view with a passage of his hand, but they immediately returned to their place, which made him look incredibly... wild.

And sexy.

When he returned his attention to me again, I had the unpleasant feeling that my thoughts were on my face, which probably made me turn crimson. Fortunately, the dragon seemed in a calm mood and did’nt get up.

- Are you hungry ?

His question caught me off guard, I had totally forgotten that point of our "deal", if I could really call it that. Lance went to get a tray on his desk, on which sat a real full meal. So he wasn't laughing when he said that Karuto would agree to do this for me, I clearly hadn't expected that much.

He put the tray down on his bed and invited me to sit down.

- I don't really have a suitable place to eat here... I hope it will be okay anyway.

My heart warmed even more at his attention. I felt... good, to be completely honest.

- It’ll be very good, don’t worry. Thank you so much.

I sat down and began to eat timidly at first, then with more and more appetite as my hunger aroused. By the time I swallowed my meal, the dragon had returned to his activities, leaving me plenty of time to observe him.

Entirely dressed in black, only the color of his hair contrasted, highlighting the trace of his scar on the back of his neck. It was the first time that I had seen it almost entirely, it ending its way under his top.

Leiftan's words came back to me then. This scar, it was probably the wound with which he had been made dead, becoming as a result of this incident the character of Ashkore. What had happened to him, exactly ? The aengel had described it as his only weak point, which was why he never went out without covering the back of his neck. But another question was bothering me.

Did he ever show it openly to others, as he was doing with me now ?

My gaze fell on his back, which was both wide and slender. Our relationship was progressing step by step, it was a fact, but had it evolved so much without me realizing it ?

It was true that we had kissed, but this incident had only happened once. I had reacted with my deepest fears, seeking some comfort in the arms of the only person who had actually seen me. And, in truth, Lance had ultimately only responded to my urges.

But, calmly, what was it then ?

I ended up swallowing my entire meal, and it was with a full stomach that I got up to put the tray back in its original place. Probably remembering my presence, the young man decided to stop his research and put back the books he had taken out. I decided to join him, placing myself at his side in order to help him.

- Did you manage to find something ? I questioned him, cascading my long black hair down behind my shoulder.

- Not at all.

Leaning forward slightly, he came to rub his face with both hands, looking visibly overwhelmed at not finding any information that could be of use to him.

- I didn't find anything about your connection with Leiftan either, to believe that these phenomena are totally unique to you, he said while giving me a sideways glance. You really have something special, no matter what you think of it.

I pretended to be focused on my task to hide the cloudy feeling his assertion gave me.

- Something special, that's for sure. I'm sure there hasn't been any aengel before me that's been on the verge of death because she couldn't pull out her poor wings.

Lance laughed frankly at my reflection, visibly amused by my jaded expression.

- On the verge of death, exactly ?

- Obviously ! And don't laugh, it's a lot more complicated than you think, I continued on the same length.

His gaze much sharper than a moment earlier, made butterflies born in my stomach. I liked to see him come alive when one of our discussions amused him.

- Indeed, I had forgotten that I did’nt know what it was like to have wings, he quipped before nimbly intercepting my vain attack on his shoulder, making resonate again his hoarse laughter as his hand decided not to let go of mine.

- You will end up hurting yourself, I will prevent you for your good.

Personally, I used to call it an oversized ego. I assumed, however, that it was too late to make up for this point on him.

- Besides, you could see your back when you went to take your shower ?

- Yes, I said, remembering the image of my skin, it strangely almost healed. We hardly distinguish anything, there are only a few traces of bruising. I don't understand, yesterday I passed out because of this, and today... it's like there never was anything.

The dragon was silent for a moment, probably analyzing my words.

- It's already a good thing that it has improved, even if I understand your frustration at not reacting in a "normal" way, let's say.

I stopped, my free hand resting on a book and my gaze fixed in front of me. That was it, he was right. Although in this particular case it was a good thing, my body was once again reacting in an abnormal, inexplicable way, and it was this point that bothered me the most.

Without ever showing anything, Lance always listened attentively to the slightest of my silences.

Sometimes I felt like he understood me better than I did.

I turned my attention back to him and was surprised to fall directly on his gaze of such cold blue and such deep intensity, that I lost myself in it without any escape. His hand finally let go of mine to move up my arm, stopping its course when his long, thin fingers reached my cheek. When these slid down the back of my neck, I instinctively turned my face in his direction.

Just before his lips caught mine bluntly.

I in turn buried my fingers in his hair while responding eagerly to his kiss. Without warning, his other arm wrapped around my waist to lift me up against him, pinning my legs on either side of his hips. In two long strides, Lance turned off the overhead light to turn on a new, much more intimate one, then laid me confidently on the mattress. His body positioned just above me, I pushed him to stand up with my hands against his chest, following him in his race. When he found himself only leaning on his knees, I lifted his dark t-shirt to pull it over his head. The dragon helped me without flinching, rolling his muscles under his tanned skin as he sent the garment to graze.

Without giving me time to do anything, he made me tilt back again so as to come over me completely. Catching my hips with his large hands, he slid me so that I was pushed up higher in the bed.

I grabbed the hem of my t-shirt and pulled on it, quickly baring my stomach and then my chest. Lance didn't have the patience to wait for me to finish removing it to take it to the next level. With dexterity, he was already unbuttoning my pants with one hand while kissing each part of my body which was revealed little by little, then, with a sharp and precise movement, he pulled on them in order to slide first my buttocks then my legs, until I remove it completely.

Only wearing my panties, I dug my fingers into the quilt above my head under his feverish gaze. He continued to kiss my body, varying sometimes between a nibble or a lick on my burning skin, his eyes disappearing in the wake of his messy hair as he started the slope of my curves.

When I felt my underwear slide over my thighs, his kisses became softer, deeper. He parted my legs with his suddenly patient hands, stroking my thin skin in a slow trajectory as he positioned himself lower.

My breath quickened in a split second when his tongue met me.

First applied, the young man wasn’t long in settling on the crescendo of my moans to deepen each of his licks, bringing me to the climax when his fingers joined the dance, sinking deep into me. My legs began to shake, forcing me to sink my teeth into the flesh of my arm so as not to wake up the whole HQ. When my jolts finally subsided, the dragon didn't give me a second's respite. Kissing my mouth passionately, he stood up to remove the only clothes he had left. I couldn't help but bite my lip as I admired the beauty of the man standing in front of me.

A slight smile spread across his full lips as he towered over me again, making his way effortlessly between my thighs. He leaned on one arm and grabbed one of my legs with his free hand, pulling it over his hip. I took the opportunity to wrap it around him and at the same time raised my pelvis, so as to make it easier for him.

Sliding my hand on his cheek, I anchored myself in his gaze so intense that I was deeply moved.

Unfortunately, I couldn't keep my fingernails from digging into his flesh when he pushed hard inside me. A single drop of blood immediately escaped the scratch and came to his lips as he began to perform several massive back and forth movements.

He leaned close to my ear.

- My angel, I have just started and you already bleed me, he laughs weakly.

But he didn't give me a chance to answer, at least not as I would have liked. Accentuating his jerks, my cries began to fill the room more and more loudly.

It didn't take long for our mouths to meet again, as if magnetized now that they had finally found each other, in turn making the red pearl flow to the hollow of my lips.

(Chapter 16)

#eldarya #eldarya new era #i am not your enemy #eldarya lance #lance eldarya #lance #eldarya the origins #ashkore #beemoov #eldarya fanfiction #fanfiction #eldarya fanfic

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yourcooladdiction · 3 years

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show me | bucky barnes

a/n: hi! this is my first attempt at writing bucky so please be kind :) enjoy!

summary: jealous bucky leads to a furious reader... but he knows just how to make it up to her.

pairings: bucky barnes x female reader

warnings: 18+ ONLY!! (smut; fingering, oral, unprotected sex), jealous bucky, angsty, fluff...ish, curse words

The faint glow of the dashboard allowed you to make out his white knuckles as he clutched the steering wheel. He was angry. But you were furious. He pulled into the parking garage of the compound and as soon as the car was parked you stormed inside the building. You were angry that you agreed to stay the night and had no means of escape, you practically lived here anyways but situations like this reminded you why you two haven’t officially moved in together.

The elevator ride is silent. You keep your eyes focused straight ahead as you feel his tension slowly fading. He attempts to reach at you when the doors open and you make a beeline to his room.

“Doll, will please you talk to me?” he finally speaks as he follows you into the bedroom.

“I have nothing to say.” You shrug your shoulders and then attempt to unzip the back of your dress, refusing to look at him.

“How the fuck are you mad at me? Seriously, Y/N?” He raises his voice, as if he has the right to yell at you.

“Are you fucking kidding me? You punched a guy I work with in the face. You literally punched him, in the face, and you want to yell at me? Get a fucking grip, Bucky!” You spin around and match his angry tone.

He steps back. You never yell. Never. Even when you two fight, which is rare in itself, you never yell. He quickly gathers that you must be really fucking pissed. He loosens the bow-tie around his neck and runs his hand through his hair. He knows he fucked up, he knows you’re fucking furious and you have every right…he did punch a guy you work with, but he doesn’t regret it.

You glare him up and down, fuck, you hated how sexy he looked right now. Black suit and bow-tie is one of your favorite looks on him, hence why you were so excited to bring him to your work gala. You watch as he loosens the bow tie and you catch yourself internally groan, you wanted to do that. You wanted this night to end with him fucking you senselessly, but no. He had to act possessive and idiotic and immature. You usually enjoy when he gets jealous, it makes you feel good about yourself but something about tonight just made him snap.

“He was eye-fucking you all night. What the hell am I supposed to do? Just stand by?” He asks.

“I know that, you don’t I didn’t notice that? Why the fuck do you think I was being extra-clingy and practically glued to your side all night?”

He doesn’t answer, instead he just looks down in defeat. He knows better than to fight with you on this. You were completely right.

“For fuck’s sake, Buck, you are all I ever talk about, everyone knows we are together. You should’ve just ignored him.”

“Well, I just wanted him to understand who you were with.” He clears his throat.

“I think he got the fucking hint.” You scoff and turn around, attempting to unzip your dress once more.

You hear Bucky slowly walk up behind you and his hand meets yours as you find the zipper, stopping your movements. You sigh as his other hand wraps around your waist, pulling you back into him. He pushes your hair to the other side of your shoulder opening up your neck to him. His hot breath hits your neck and your knees go weak.

“I’m sorry, baby doll.” He whispers, his lips barely touching your earlobe.

You bite down on your lip, trying to conceal any sound of enjoyment that may slip through. You are mad and you don’t want him to think he can just apologize and everything will be okay. You tell yourself to remain strong. Make him learn his lesson. He leans down and kisses your exposed neck, leaving a trail of kisses. Your eyes flutter shut, this is going to be harder than you thought.

“Doll” he says, “please,” between, “forgive me,” kisses.

You involuntarily roll your head to the side more, giving him more access. His hand that was wrapped around your hip slides up and gently squeezes one of your breasts. You moan immediately. Fuck.

“There she is,”

You can feel his snarky smirk against your skin and you take your elbow and jam it back into him.

“Ouch!” He says as your force takes him back.

“You don’t get to give a weak ass apology and call me baby girl and expect me to melt for you. Think again, Barnes.” You roll your eyes and take off towards the bathroom.

Oh, playing hard to get are we? Bucky loved a challenge, especially if you were the prize. He quickly followed you into the bathroom and stopped dead in his tracks. You had already slipped out of your dress and you were wearing a new set. Red lace. His favorite.

“Jesus, fucking — shit, “ he whispers.

You spin around and smile at him.

“Do you like? I was hoping to surprise you and us have insanely rough sex tonight but you had to act like an idiot, so —“

Within seconds he has you pushed against the bathroom wall. His hands gripped around your waist, so close you have no way of getting away from him.

“Doll, please, I am so sorry. Please. Let me make it up to you, please.” He begs, his lips go back to your neck as he kisses and sucks gently. Knowing you will eventually give into him.

“You look so fuckin’ sexy, please. God please let me make it up to you.” He asks once more.

He pulls away and looks into your eyes and you could tell he was genuinely sorry, but you weren’t going to give in so easily. He was going to make it up to you just like he said.

“Show me how sorry you are then,” you whisper.

You barely get the words out when his lips are on yours. Fighting for dominance. He slips his tongue out over your bottom lip, gently taking it between his teeth, pulling a delicious sounding moan from your mouth.

“Fuck, doll, do you know what you do to me?”

“Show me.” You repeat your words once more.

His hands wrap around your thighs and lifts you with ease. You wrap your legs around him and feel just how hard you make him. This turns you on even more and it’s almost embarrassing how wet you are. You grind your hips into him as he pushes you further into the wall and he gets the hint that you want this taken back to the bedroom. He caries you to the bed and throws you down, quickly unbuttoning his shirt and pulling at his belt buckle. You squeeze your thighs together as you hear the metal of his belt clink, you hated how much you wanted him right now, but you couldn’t help it. He was so fucking hot. Especially when he begged for you. You knew he was going to make it up to you, you knew he was going to fuck you so good.

“I’m not going to fuck you.” His voice a low growl, you start to wonder if you said your thoughts out loud.

He climbs over top of you and the look on his face, the lust in his eyes, you attempt to take a mental picture to savor this moment forever.

“I’m going to make love to you,” he smirks.

You can’t help but chuckle. For such a suave and sophisticated guy, he can be quite fucking corny.

“You’re an idiot.” You say.

“Yeah, but you love me.”

Before you can combat his lips are on you. Working there way from your lips to your neck. As he sucks purple marks into your skin, he quickly unclasps your bra, and throws it to the side.

“Hot damn, I hit the jackpot with you, huh?” He says as he licks his lips.

You blush and attempt to cover your face and he pulls your hands away.

“Stop.” He demands.

He looks at you again with that lustful look and you swear this man will be the death of you. He returns to his job of pleasing you by taking a nipple in his mouth. He swirls his tongue around your nub and your back arches off the bed.

“Fuck, Bucky.” You groan.

He continues working his mouth on one as his massages the other, alternating every few seconds. He loved all the sounds he was pulling from you but he knew where you needed him most. He trails kisses down your stomach and you instinctively open your legs. He chuckles at how eager you are, slowly kissing your thighs, until he was right at your sweet spot. He kisses your clit through your lace panties and your back arches once more.

“Buck, stop being a fucking tease!” you lean up on your elbows, sternly looking at him. He was supposed to be making up to you, not teasing.

“Impatient are we?” He furrows an eyebrow at you.

Before you could speak he pulls your underwear to the slide and begins massaging your clit with his meta thumb. The coolness sending pleasant waves of pleasure through your body.

“You — fuck!” You moan, head falling back against the pillow.

“Relax, baby doll, I’m going to take care of you.”

He hooked his fingers on both sides of your underwear and pulled them down slowly, making sure to tease you more.

Your fists grabbed at the sheets as his tongue laps up your wet. He gently sucks on your clit as he grips your thighs spreading them further apart.

“Doll, you’re so wet for me, you taste so damn good.” He purred as you moan his name again and again.

He continues licking through your folds and slips two fingers inside of you. He moans into you and you almost cum at just his sound. You feel your orgasm quickly approach as he continues to lick and suck your clit while pumping his two fingers in and out of you.

“I’m — close,” you quiver

“Let go, baby, come on,” he encourages

It only takes a few more swipes of his tongue before you come undone. You scream out his name as he continues to pump his fingers in and out, taking all you give him.

“I got you, doll. I got you. So fucking good.” He continues lapping up your juices.

As you come down from your high you look down to see his lips glistening with your juices. He gives you a devilish smirk as he climbs back on top of you, kissing up your body until he meets your lips.

“I love you,” he whispers against your lips.

“I love you more, now give me your cock.”

“Yes ma’am,” he agrees as he quickly sits up and off his boxers.

He aligns himself with your entrance and slowly pushes in.

“Fuck” you both groan in unison.

Your legs wrap around him as he fills you up and stretches you out. You whine and whimper quietly in his ear while he slowly fucks you. He pushes deeper inside of you, hitting spots he’s never hit before.

“B-buck, baby, faster —“ you beg

He listens to your demand as he thrusts his hips into you.

“Shit doll, you feel so fucking good.” He breathily moans into your ear as he rocks his hips against yours.

Your mind becomes foggy as your stomach coils. You’re so close, again. You wrap your hands around his shoulders to give yourself something to hold on to.

“Buck —“ you moan as he strokes your walls with his thick member.

“I know baby girl, I’m right there. Come for me.” He whispers into your ear.

He chants your name in husky moans as he continues his thrusts, speeding up to give you both the release you’re aching for.

You come with a loud whimper of his name and he kisses you harshly as his release is quick to follow. His head falls into the crook of your neck as you both slowly come down from your orgasms.

“You okay, doll?” He whispers, kissing your neck softly.

“Yes,” you answer quietly.

He pulls away and smiles down at you. He loved you, god did he love you. He knew he was such an idiot earlier. He knew better than to act like such a jealous prick, but he couldn’t help it. You were his girl. He loved you and only you. He wanted you to himself, forever.

“You’re forgiven,” you say with a sweet smile.

He laughs and places a soft kiss on your lips.

“I’m sorry I was such an idiot.”

“It’s okay, Buck. You’re just a jealous little bitch.” You grin.

“You’re not wrong, what’s mine is mine.” He winks as you roll your eyes.

“Did you just roll your eyes at me? You must be ready for me to fuck you now,” He growls before capturing your lips once more.

This was going to be a long night.

#bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes x female reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x yn #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes one shot #bucky fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes fanfic

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youareinlovees · 3 years

Text

Rep Tour Metlife Night 3 (submission)

The roar of the stadium fills the atmosphere like a thunderstorm as the expectators anticipate the start of the show. Though this isn't the first time he attends one of her concerts, the massiveness of the crowd and of the performance itself is still quite astonishing to him. It just wasn't the type of thing you got used to after a few times. Not to mention that this is the third consecutive night she fills out this stadium, which was impressive and a rather unheard of situation.

"Are you ready for it?"

The crowd screams even louder as Taylor appears on stage with a black hood. For him, it's genuinely entertaining to see just how much the fans in the crowd love her, shouting out every single word to the songs. The impact she has on these people is really intense, some of them even crying at certain parts of the show. There's others that you can tell came as a group of friends for a good time and they hug, jump, and laugh together throughout the show. There's people of all ages, from couples in love to families that came together with little kids and grandparents, and every single person looks happy and excited. Truly a phenomenon.

But the most powerful phenomenon is the woman on stage on whom everyone's attention is focused. She is so beautiful and wonderful it almost feels like she's some sort of mythical creature. The passion she puts in her singing and dancing is endearing and at the same time very attractive to him. How did he even manage to have her love him? She's fucking gorgeous and perfect in every way. Her legs are just unbelievably hot and he knows he isn't the only one in the crowd having that thought. When she dances to Gorgeous, it makes his brain feel numb because all he can think of is the things he wants to do with her as soon as he gets her to himself after the show. But it's only the beginning and he knows the wait will be painfully long, so he tries to divert his thoughts elsewhere. As if reading his mind, she winks in his direction as the song ends, licking her lips and smiling cheekily. Warmth floods his insides in response to the gesture. Man, he'd really really missed her. They'd been apart from each other for some days because he had work things to do away in London. Though it was only a few days, he had ached for her company every single instant.

Apparently, she has similar feelings because she can't stop looking in his direction throughout King of my Heart. He remembers very vividly the first time she played him that song, some days after they'd made their relationship official. At the time, he couldn't believe she'd actually written that about him. He couldn't believe he inspired those feelings in her because she sure as hell inspired that and so much more in him. She fixes her gaze on him hungrily as she sings "we rule the kingdom inside my room." Oh shit. Her bum looks so good in that outfit. How is he gonna survive what's left of the show? Luckily, he's good at keeping it cool on the outside. He has no choice anyways because his mum and Patrick are right there beside him. He knows his face probably looks all giddy and lovestruck regardless, but he doesn't mind. She points at him in circles suggestively as she says "never took me quite where you do." Urgh she knows what she's doing and he can't help chuckling at her teasing. It's torture though. The fact that she's doing this in front of thousands of people is extra sexy. It's interesting because a part of him feels possessive and wants to snatch her from the stage and not have anyone look at her in a "she's MINE" sort of way, but at the same time it's satisfying to know that she's doing all this sexy shit and making everybody desire her, yet he is the only one who gets to have her. He's the only one who gets to love her and enjoy her, and a lot of what she's doing up there is directed specifically at him even though the whole stadium's watching it. Besides, he just knows that she loves having those secret moments with him, as she sings in Dress. So cruel of her to put literal moans on that song and blast them on stadiums. Her antics as she performs it are driving him crazy. Tonight, he feels particularly deprived of her and desperate for her touch because he's been away for what has felt like an eternity.

The crowd bursts into loud screaming one last time as the show ends. Everyone looks giddy and happy, as if they'd just gotten off a spiritual experience, which isn't that far from the truth, he thinks to himself. His mum and Patrick stay chatting with some people and he makes his way towards the dressing room. He says hi to Tree and the staff briefly and walks further down the hall until he reaches it. The door is open and there's no one else but her inside, with her back facing him as she looks in the mirror wiping herself with a towel. She's still sweaty and flustered from the show, and her hair is a bit messy, but she's the most beautiful creature he's ever laid eyes upon. If she looked stunning on stage, she was even more drop dead gorgeous up close.

"You look breathtakingly beautiful this evening, Miss Swift. I heard your boyfriend is out of town, may I take you out for a drink?," he says in a flirtatious tone.

She hadn't realized he was standing there at the door. She immediately looks up at him when she hears his voice and smiles at him through the mirror, her whole face lightening up as she turns around.

"Is that what they told you?", she says playfully as she makes her way towards him. She kisses his lips excitedly. He smiles against her mouth at her enthusiasm.

"Hello, love," he greets her softly when she pulls back for air. They embrace each other tightly for a few seconds, his hands caressing her hair.

"How did it go in London? How was work?," she asks, resting her head on his chest.

"Work was alright. The rest was awfully dull because you weren't there," he answers.

She chuckles softly and looks up into his eyes. "I missed you so much."

"I did, too," he says, staring back. She puts her mouth onto his again, this time more passionate and hungry, her tongue going inside him desperately trying to saviour as much of him as possible. He welcomes it eagerly, her sudden aggressive desire catching him a bit off guard. He responds to her kiss with the same energy, biting her lower lip a little and devouring her delicious taste. His hands rub down her back, pulling her waist towards him. Meanwhile, her fingers snake into his hair as she pulls herself deeper into his mouth. He feels his crotch tighten as he becomes inevitably aroused with her body rubbing against his. His mouth finds her neck and she moans as he pulls her head back gently to get a better angle.

"Shut the door," she pants in between kisses. They'd forgotten that there's people walking by in the hallway.

"Wait, don't you have to meet your fans in the other room?", he remembers, pausing for a moment, which results in a complaining grunt from her.

"I'll have them cancel it," she says decidedly, impatiently pulling him in again, "Most of them came the other two nights anyways."

He pushes her back. "Are you really sure about that?", he questions, raising an eyebrow.

"Do you really want me to answer?", she ponders back desperately, still insisting fiercely on kissing him.

"Fair enough," he chuckles as he gives in to her needs. What Taylor Swift wants, Taylor Swift gets.

She grabs her phone and sends a quick text to Tree telling her that Rep Room isn't happening tonight while Joe shuts and locks the door. He sneaks up behind her and wraps his arms smoothly around her waist, kissing her shoulder as she hits send. "Done?", he asks. She puts the phone on the table and closes her eyes.

"Mmhmm", she moans as he runs kisses up and down her neck. Her skin is so soft and healthy. He grunts a little when her ass grinds against his crotch as she leans back into him.

"You pulled some interesting bits up there tonight."

"Mmhmmm, did you enjoy them?", she says with a small smile, her eyes still closed.

"I certainly did." He starts to unzip her glittery dress to bare her back. Her body is still warm from the physical exertion caused by the almost two hour long show. A shiver runs down her spine when his cold fingers brush against her skin, peeling away the dress as his mouth runs soft kisses behind her neck and shoulders. A loud moan escapes her, the sound making his erection feel even harder in his trousers. She finishes taking off the dress and turns around to face him, her naked breasts against his chest. He grabs one of them as his mouth finds hers once again, his tongue pushing inside in rhythmic movements. Then, he makes his way from her jawline to her neck, shoulders, chest, until he finally puts her other breast in his mouth, sucking and licking her nipple while massaging the other one with his thumb and index finger. She gasps in response. "That feels so good, baby," she whimpers in between moans. Her breasts are a work of art in his eyes, everything about them is perfection: their size, their softness, the hardness of her nipples when she’s aroused, as it was the case right now.

She pulls at the hem of his shirt, aching to feel more of his skin against her. He briefly releases her to quickly take off his shirt and disregard it on the floor. Immediately she pulls herself against him, her hands around his neck as their bare torsos collide heatedly and their tongues dance together. She runs her warm hands over his chest and his abs, sending electricity waves through his body with each touch. The sensation of her hardened nipples against his naked chest was too much to handle and so he dives down to put her breasts in his mouth once again. She moans loudly. "Joe, I...I want you so much," she says, almost in anguish. He licks and bites her nipples hungrily and then, he starts to make his way slowly downward, kissing below her breasts as his hands slide down her sides until he reaches her tummy. She inhales deeply. "Tell me, baby, what do you need?", he says against her skin as his mouth moves further down to her lower stomach. Her body trembles involuntarily in response and he can see her wetness through her panties. She’s very wet, he realizes with a grin. "You," she groans in response, holding onto the table for balance as his hands go up and down the insides of her thighs, "I need you, Joe." He teasingly pulls down the edges of her panties and kisses directly on top of her pubic bone. Her hips thrust forward. "Fuck, I need you now," she blurts out.

"Let’s take care of that, shall we?", he whispers in her ear as he picks her up and carries her towards the comfy couch in the dressing room, her legs wrapping themselves around his back. He throws the cushions to the floor with one hand and places her gently on the couch, kneeling in front of her on one of the cushions. He slides her panties down her legs and onto the floor, so that she was now lying completely naked on the couch. Such a gorgeous sight. "You are so beautiful, my love," he says looking up into her eyes. Her belly moves up and down with her quick breathing, her cheeks flushed slightly. He takes off her shoes and massages her ankles and her toes, releasing the tension on them from wearing tight heels for hours. Then, he starts to kiss his way up her left leg, gently pushing her knees apart to open her legs as he approaches her inner thigh. Finally, his mouth reaches her most sensitive organ and he licks and sucks on her clit, enjoying her delicious taste that he’d missed so much. She arches her back as the waves of pleasure penetrate her. His tongue continues to move around expertly as he digs into the corners of her walls and sucks and bites her clit. "Fuck," she moans, her fingers aggresively digging into the edges of the couch. He slides two fingers deep into her core, his mouth still working on her clit, and starts to thrust in and out. She tangles one of her hands in his hair and pushes him deeper inside her, his tongue joining his fingers inside of her. He gradually quickens the pace of his fingers as her walls contract around his hand and her hips push into him, until eventually she can’t contain her orgasm and comes loudly, screaming his name.

He licks his lips in satisfaction, savoring the fluids from her insides as he moves towards her face to kiss her gently, his fingers still inside her. "Did you like that?", he mumbles against her face. "It was so good, baby," she barely pants in response, "so fucking good". Hovering over her as she recovers, he takes his fingers out and licks them. He could never get enough of her wonderful taste. "I’m glad you liked it, because I’m not finished yet," he informs her.

However, her hands are reaching towards his trousers, where his erection is bulking out, attempting to unbutton them. "No teasing," she pleads.

"What’s that?", he asks instead, deciding to mess with her a little regardless. He’d had to survive her teasing on stage for two hours, it was only fair that she endured something similar after all. He licks the outline of her areolas with the tip of his tongue as slowly and scarcely as he could master, forcing her to lay back, his fingers brushing lightly against her sides. "Joe," she complains, shifting and trying to pull his body closer to her. But Joe holds himself up firmly in a hovering position over her, his skin brushing only ever so slightly against hers every now and then, while his mouth was busy planting the softest of kisses all around her face, occasionally brushing her neck and behind her ears. "Please," she begs, still trying to pull him down.

"Please what? Say it to me, baby. I can’t guess what you want unless you ask for it," he responds calmly while continuing his slow torture on her sensitive spots. He wanted to hear her say it out loud. He wanted to hear her scream how much she wanted him.

"I want you inside of me, Joe. I want all of you inside of me now," she nearly cries out in desperation.

He nibbles on her neck one last time before unbuttoning his trousers. "Is that so?", he says mischievously as he finishes taking off his underpants and shoes. She breathes deeply in anticipation when she sees him completely naked in front of her, her insides feeling overwhelmingly empty without him. He leans towards her mouth once again and she kisses him with hunger, a small gasp escaping her lips when his dick rubs against her clit. "What do you want me to do inside you?", he whispers hoarsely into her ear. "I want you to fuck me, baby," she pants.

"As you wish," he says, staring deep into her blue eyes as he enters her wet insides slowly, groaning from the pleasure of feeling her warm core around him. She gasps and moans, her small fingers digging into his back as she hugs his chest towards hers. He thrusts in and out with slow movements, going inside deeper and deeper each time until he pushes against her cervix. She arches her back and responds moving her hips upwards, moaning and closing her eyes. He goes forward with a bit more strength, pushing her against the couch and touching on her G spot. "Yes, baby, fuck me," she whimpers, her breaths small and quick. Still deep inside of her, he sways his hips rhythmically, rocking their unified bodies back and forth.

"I love you so much, Taylor," he says with adoration. Every inch of skin on his chest was in contact with hers, her soft breasts deliciously cushioned below him. "I love you more, baby," she says back breathlessly, running her lips across his neck and shoulders. He starts thrusting again, gradually picking up the pace. He holds onto the back of the couch and thrusts faster and faster, feeling her walls contracting against his cock. She moans as he goes even faster until she finally comes, another orgasm running through her body as she cries out.

The sight of her body squirming in pleasure almost makes him cum as well. But then, she unexpectedly pushes him to the side, switching their positions so that she was now on top of him. She kisses him and starts riding him energetically, her hands resting on his shoulders and her knees on the couch on either side of him. He grunts and caresses her breasts as she bounces on top of him, eventually placing both hands on her hips to hold her down, until the sensation and the sight of her with her eyes closed and her boobs bouncing as she fucks him become too much and he cums inside of her.

She collapses on top of him and the two of them lay in silence for a few minutes as they recover and stabilize their breathing, their bodies warm and sweaty. When he’s back to his senses, he notices her bathrobe is on the side of the couch and he reaches for it with one hand. He spreads it across her back to keep her warm. Covered with the bathrobe, she cuddles into his lap with her legs on one side and her head resting on his chest as she breathes in and out slowly. He caresses her head with one hand and rubs circles with the other on top of the robe on her back.

"That was a nice surprise there at the end," he says, kissing her forehead.

She smiles smugly. "I thought you’d like it," she mumbles against his chest.

"Did you kick out all the staff before I came in here?", he asks curiously. Usually there were stylists and make-up people inside the dressing rooms with her.

"Maybe," she answers with a smirk, looking up at him playfully. He chuckles in amusement, but secretly he’s glad that she did because he doesn’t know if he would’ve actually been able to wait until they got back to her apartment.

It was hard to believe that this was the same person that had a whole stadium submitted to her performance less than an hour ago. This beautiful creature bundled in his arms was the same powerful force that gave around orders to executives, dominated enormous stages, and attracted followers from all over the world with her songwriting. Yet at this very moment, she’s just another vulnerable human, her blue eyes glowing like a curious child’s as she stares into his lovingly. She reaches up to caress his cheek softly with her hand, scanning his face with wonder. "You’re so gorgeous," she admires quietly. "That was amazing, babe. Thank you."

He leans down to kiss her gently. "You are the most stunningly beautiful creature inside and out that I’ve ever laid eyes upon. I am just fortunate enough to get to be yours," he says sincerely. He touches his nose to hers. "I love you, baby." And he truly loves her so much to the point where it feels like an unexplainable supernatural phenomenon, larger than life itself.

"I love you, too," she says warmly, her face shining like sunlight.

#submission #taylor and joe #taylor and joe fanfiction #taylor swift fanfiction #lets talk swiftwyn

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getitinbusan · 3 years

Text

Namjoon:

The Grammy Sessions

18+ smut part of The Studio Sessions

It's not a Grammy award but I hope it's a little distraction for you all until the performance. Written for @jungkookbabyyyy and @etherealxjiminx thanks for the love 💜 I hope you like it.

"You all look so handsome."

Gushing over the five men in front of you was easily one of your favorite pastimes.

"You need to be out of here in 5 minutes, where's Jin and Joon?"

"I'm here," Jin walked in tucking his arm around your waist. "But there's a little issue with Namjoon," he whispered not so softly in your ear. Everyone looked at each other nervously.

"What the hell does that mean?" Yoongi vocalized what everyone was thinking.

"It means he's a little freaked out. I've never seen him like this." Jin was usually Namjoon's support and if he was saying it, it wasn't good.

Jimin pulled out his phone, "Should we call Sejin Hyung?"

All eyes turned to you, waiting. "Why do you think I know the answer?"

"You always know what to do Noona, you take better care of us than anyone." Jungkook flattered while looking worried.

You looked to your boyfriend, "He's not wrong," Yoongi shrugged.

The wheels turned in your head as you tried to formulate a game plan.

The doorbell rang, "The cars here, what are we going to do?"

You looked them over analyzing who would be your best accomplice. "Jimin put your phone away, i'm going to handle this."

You tried hard to sound confident. "You're going to stay with me. Everyone else go get in the car. If we're late, you're going to have to do press alone."

The looks of terror that befell them made you sigh. "Seriously? You all speak perfectly fine English. Stop being such cowards and use it." You kissed their cheeks one by one as they filed out. Jungkook was last.

"You've got this baby, I promise. Your English is so good now, you can do it."

"Do whatever it takes Noona, just get him there."

"So why am I here? What exactly is my role in all this?"

You placed your hands on his shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. "I'm gonna need you to drive."

"That's it? I could be drinking free champagne at the virtual pre show but instead I have to be the chauffeur?"

"I'm sorry but Guk or Jin would be messy, we've gotten too close and they'd be hurt having to watch."

"Watch what?"

"Me fucking Joon in front of them. God Jimin, keep up we don't have much time."

He stood puzzled.

"Taehyungs a pervert and he'd get too turned on and try to make it about himself. There's no way Joon would fuck me in front of Yoongi and Hobi is just a shit driver."

He didn't even bat an eye. "So your plan is to bribe him with sex?"

"Can you think of a better option because I didn't see you suggesting anything."

He grabbed the keys from their hook and shrugged, "I guess I'll be waiting in the car."

"Joon?" You knocked lightly on his door, turning the handle before he could answer.

He was in his own world pacing the room as if he was lost in thought.

"Hey sweetheart." You startled him.

"You know you can't skip this right?" He sat down onto the edge of the bed with his head in his hands nodding. "Do you want to tell me what's going on?"

Kneeling in front of him you pulled his hands away from his face. He looked tired.

"What if we don't win?"

"Joon what's really going on? You never worry about things like this."

"This is our ultimate goal, everyone knows. There's so much riding on this and it's all on my shoulders as the leader."

He began pacing again. "If we lose I'm the one who has to tell everyone it's okay, i'm the one who has to calm the fans and I'm the one who has to console the members."

"But what if you win and you're worrying about this for nothing?"

"Thats it though, the one thing nobody's thinking about. If we win tonight we've reached our highest goal, where do we go from there?"

"Namjoon," you couldn't help but smile in fondness, "you think too much."

Wrapping your arms around him you gave him a squeeze. "Shut your head off and try to live in the moment for once."

He kissed your forehead, "I wish you could come tonight."

"Well your car already left so you've got me until we get there."

You picked up his jacket and flung it at him. "Now let's go before you miss anything."

He went to open the passenger door but you pushed it closed. "Don't worry Jimin's got this under control. You're going to ride in the back with me and relax."

His hand was clammy and he kept squeezing yours like morse code.

"What are you doing?" His eyes were clamped tightly shut and his lips were moving but no sound was coming out.

"I'm practicing my speech in case we win. I'm sorry I just can't make my brain stop."

"So if you can't shut it off…" You let go of his hand and palmed him over his pants. "We'll just have to find a way to distract it."

He looked at the front seat towards Jimin.

"Don't worry about him. He's going to keep his eyes on the road and make sure we get there on time."

He was growing firmer with every stroke, straining against the fabric that held him in. "Doesn't that feel better already?"

He smiled with a nod.

"I just want you to sit back and enjoy the ride."

Sliding to your knees in the back seat you carefully undid his zipper. Gently lifting his semi hard dick out of his underwear you leaned in for a suck.

"You have the nicest cock Joon." It twitched at your flattery.

He wrapped his hand into your hair and pushed you closer to his swollen member. You could feel him relaxing under your touch.

"Suck it for me."

Wrapping your lips around him you embraced his shaft with your suctioned movements. Wet lips worked him in and out of your throat while your other hand burrowed around his balls squeezing them gently. Small sighs escaped him, the sound of tension leaving his body.

"What are you thinking about?" You licked the head of his cock.

"How good your mouth feels."

"Umm," you hummed. "If you're still thinking I'm not doing good enough."

You sat up and leaned against your side of the door spreading your legs wide open you fully exposed yourself.

"You're really not wearing anything under there?"

"I wasn't planning on leaving the house." You pulled the oversize sweater you were wearing as a dress over your head.

"I was just going to stretch out on the big couch and watch you perform." You dipped your finger into yourself and his jaw dropped.

"I figured I'd be so turned on and none of you would be there to satisfy me so I'd have to take care of myself." You grinned sinfully, "Undergarments just get in the way."

Catching Jimin watching in the rearview, you circled your clit, teasing the little bud for your audience. He shifted in his seat while adjusting his hard on, "Eyes on the road please driver."

Namjoon reached forward, wanting to explore you like your own fingers were. "Go ahead, put in."

His index finger slid in beside yours and he slowly pumped it in and out matching your movements. "You're so fucking sexy."

"I want you to fuck me Joon, my pussy wants more."

He pulled his finger out and you grabbed his hand, holding it still.

"We should tip the chauffeur, give him a little sample don't you think?"

Namjoon was hesitant, unsure, until a soft, "please, let me taste her," came from the front seat.

Namjoon reached around the headrest and he held his finger out. Jimin's plush lips latched on greedily sucking it clean, running his tongue around the tip for good measure. "You taste so fucking good Noona."

Eyes totally glassed over, Namjoon was desperate for satisfaction.

"What are you thinking about now?" You bit your lip.

"Pounding that pussy into the car seat until you can't walk anymore."

"Yes please." You used your legs to pull him in closer, "get over here and fuck me."

He slid into your wetness with ease, your excited pussy drenched in anticipation for his meaty cock. His body had you pressed into the leather seat while Jimin sat staring at his ass pumping furiously into you.

Catching his eye and holding contact you smiled and moaned louder. You wanted him to have to sit there, horny, counting down the minutes until he could find a release. Knowing he'd be thinking of ways to punish you for putting him through this the entire show made you even wetter.

Wrapping Namjoon tightly in your thighs you whispered, "Cum in me Joonie please, I want you dripping out of me all night."

Ramming himself into you with a newfound energy the car shook as he shot his load deep inside you and collapsed.

"Namjoon baby, what are you thinking about?"

He started laughing from where he was tucked into your neck, the vibrations tickling, making you squirm under him.

"Absolutely fucking nothing."

With Namjoon safely delivered you turned your attention to Jimin.

"Why aren't you getting out of the car? You're already so late."

He looked at you in the rearview mirror, "Don't smile at me and pretend that wasn't intentional. I need a minute, I can't exactly walk in there with a boner."

You couldn't stop laughing. "My poor Mochi. I'll tell you what, I'll make it up to you when you get home."

He pushed the door open to get out but came and leaned into your unrolled window.

"Win or lose you'll be getting something later."

Walking away he grabbed his dick and winked at you.

"You'd better be waiting up for your prize."

#bts grammys #bts smut #namjoon smut #bts #studio sessions #jimin #mochi #rm #joon

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dabiboy · 3 years

Note

hello!! Could I get a dabi request for a reader in severe danger/injured and how he would react/protect them? Thank you! :)

So sorry this one took me forever! I had like three different ideas but I decided to do this one, I might write another similar in a future but I hope you like it!

Pain

''Stay fucking still you idiot'' Dabi said as you whined.

''I can't cause it burns'' Closing your eyes and hissing, you did the best you could to remain calm.

There was a huge fight, and besides the big amounts of cuts you get you were also burned, and it was true what they said, Endeavor flames were painful as fuck. You were sitting between Dabi's legs, torso completely naked and just a pair of panties and a towel covering the front part of your body as the black-haired man was stitching one of the cuts in your shoulder.

''Told you you should've stayed away from that shit, but no. There you went all badass and got all burned. Such a pain in my ass''

''You could've gotten killed'' You simply replied, but he got silent right after.

''Don't care about me'' Dabi said after a few seconds, cleaning now around some other wound

''Why wouldn't I care about you?''

''Because I'm not worth it, doll'' He said and you could tell he was smirking, just a bit. ''And besides, I'm more used to this than you. Look at you, you look like a damn sliced potato''

''You are worth it to me, Dabi. You know you are'' Your voice was low, you knew he wasn't too confident about himself or feelings, so he wasn't sure about what to say ''Shut up you burned potato''

Dabi chuckled lowly, using a wet towel to take away the dirt of your skin. The truth was, that he was scared as fuck when he saw you getting hurt. You are the only person he has ever cared about, and the fact that you almost gave your life to save him was still roaming in his head, but he was not sure about what to say about it.

''This one's gonna hurt like a bitch'' He said before using a piece of cloth with alcohol to clean a wound in the middle of your back.

''Oh shit'' You closed your eyes feeling the burning sensation in your skin, trying not to move. ''Dabi...''

''I know, doll. Just a few more stitched and I'll take care of that''

After a couple of seconds, he started stitching the last and now clean wound on your back. Surprisingly, his movements were soft and even kind of delicate for a man like him. Clearly he knew what he was doing, it was not the first time he was healing a wound. Maybe it was the first time in a different body, though. He looked back at your leg, it was burned and he was sure that the way you were going to finish your sentence was it hurts.

Once he was done, he pressed a kiss on your neck before standing up.

''C'mere'' He left his spot on the bed so you could lay down, and your cheeks got quite red at the fact you were just covering your torso with a towel ''What, got all shy now?'' Dabi smirked ''I've seen you naked a thousand times, there's nothing new for me there''

''I look like crap'' You said turning your face away from him.

''Just a few cuts and burns, you still look sexy as fuck baby'' He teased you and gave you a comfortable smile as he sat back down at the edge of the bed, taking your right leg to his lap. ''Doesn't need staples'' Dabi said to himself as he looked at the burned flesh.

''Is it too bad? Maybe we should've accepted Twice's idea and got a doctor''

''Don't you trust me?'' He looked at you with a lifted eyebrow ''I might know what to do with burnt flesh, don't you think?''

''Just... Don't make it hurt'' You covered your face with your forearm.

''Can't promise that, doll face.''

He started cleaning the skin, getting rid of dirtiness and anything that could infect the damaged skin, he also removed the dead tissue of the zone. He had done it way too many times with his own skin, and now he was trying his best not to be though and hurt you in the process. He repeated the treatment with the side of your left thigh and your left shoulder. And then he saw it. Right under your arm, on the rib cage there was a big burn with a cut near it, and stitches were not going to work there. He cursed in a low voice, making you open your eyes.

''What is it?''

''You're gonna need staples there''

His snarky comments vanished as soon as he said that, there were no more smirks, or anything else. Dabi was quiet, serious. Carefully he made you lift your arm so he could lean that nasty wound, and when he was ready he stood up to get the staple gun and he also had a bottle with him.

''There'' He handled you the bottle and you knew exactly what you had to do.

You took a long sip of the bottle, and the burning in your throat was not even close to the burning feeling you had in your entire body. You out your forearm on your face once more, nodding to give Dabi the hint that you were ready. It was painful, draining, how the hell could he take it? Almost his entire body was covered by burns and staples, and he even had to put some more himself when they got loose, damn he was strong.

Dabi could see how a tear rolled down his cheek, and he couldn't feel any more guilty. You had jumped into the fight to protect him, and you almost got killed, and death was not that bad. What was haunting him, was that he knew how bad those wounds hurt, how shitty they looked, and knowing that you had them because of him was tearing him apart. He hated to see the woman he loved in that state. After long minutes, he stopped his motions. The pain was still there, but at least it was going to be gone with some pain killers.

Silently, Dabi sat on the bed playing with the staple guns in his hands. You opened your red puffy eyes, just seeing at his back.

''Are you... Are you mad?'' You said now with a tired voice.

''Why would I be'' He replied back with a monotonous voice.

''Because I was reckless'' Confusion hit you when you heard him chuckle

''No, you dickhead. I... You got those shitty scars because of me. And you almost fucking die.''

''Well... I always thought your scars were cool'' you gave him a small smile, your comment making him look at you ''And I didn't die, see? I'm right here''

''You're seriously the biggest idiot I've met'' Dabi said ''Don't do that ever again. What the hell am I going to do if I don't have you here?'' You froze. Even though you had been dating for a good amount of time, it was the first time he let out some clear emotions ''You're all I fucking have, and all I care about. So don't you dare to put your damn life at risk again, and less for me'' He turned at you, and you could notice the strong grip of his hands holding the staple gun.

''I promise you that I can stop being such a reckless idiot... But don't ever ask me to stop caring about you, because I would do it again if it means that you'll be safe.'' You kept the weak smile on your face, holding his hand softly.

''Why'' He simply stated, looking at your small hand over his.

''Because I love you, you idiot'' Those words made him look at you again ''Now come here and cuddle me cause I almost die'' You giggle and he rolled his eyes, carefully laying by your side as you rested your head on the side of his arm. ''Now we match'' You smiled one more time, this time taking a deep breath and closing your eyes as he huffed.

''Idiot'' He said, and pressed a soft his on top of your head ''Now try to sleep, I'll give you a shower once you're awake cause you fucking stink.''

''And you love me even though I stink. But you stink too so don't flatter yourself that much''

''I do'' Dabi said lowly, letting out a small smile. All fear was now gone, all he cared about at that moment was to be there with you.

#bnha+dabi #dabi #bnha dabi #dabi x reader #boku no hero academia #dabi headcanons #dabi imagine #mha dabi

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luxekook · 4 years

Text

the golden boy | jjk

» pairing: phys. ed. teacher!jk x biology teacher!reader » genre: enemies to lovers, smut » summary: the new physical education teacher insulted you the moment you met him, and you’ve given him hell ever since. if only you didn’t think that he was the most beautiful boy you’d ever seen and that he was so much fun to play with. » word count: 2.5k » warnings: 18+, cursing, switch!jk, dom!reader, jk says something dumb, sexism, reader is a bad bish, jungkook is whipped, declarations of ownership from kook lol, smut (slight noona kink, oral (f receiving), biting, hair pulling)

» request: @jeonstime said: JUNGKOOK + COCKTAIL PLZ

as part of the bangtanhq drinks and drabbles challenge

“And this is Dr. (Y/l/n), the head of our science department and biology teacher. You’ll be working closely with her to create the Sexual Education curriculum,” Principal Kim introduces you to the newly hired P.E. teacher. “(Y/n), this is Jeon Jungkook.”

You nod at this new arrival, extending your palm towards him. Jungkook is attractive as hell, if you’re being honest with yourself. Your eyes flick over the lean muscle of his body and the wide-eyed beauty of his face. It’s too bad you are swearing off men for the time being after a particularly bad first date last week.

“I thought you would be a dude,” He mumbles after a long pause, looking you over in confusion. Your nostrils flare as you rescind your hand before Jungkook can even move to shake it.

“And why is that?” You fold your arms in front of your chest. You have faced incredulity before from a plethora of men - and women - about your chosen career path. Most women and minority groups in STEM fields have. It is part of the reason why you have forgone the route of lab work like a number of your fellow doctoral graduates in favor of high school education. You want your young students to feel empowered to become epidemiologists and astronauts and brain surgeons no matter their gender, their race, their sexual orientation.

And you want to eradicate the exact kind of reaction that Jungkook is giving you. Your glare is ice cold and absolute as you pin it on him. Kim Namjoon, your principal, is facepalming from beside this new boy and is looking at you with pleading eyes to diffuse the situation. But, fuck that noise.

“I-I don’t know?” Jungkook finally blurts out, running a strong hand through his mess of chocolate brown hair, “I’m sorry, (Y/n).” His cheeks are flushed prettily, and you almost cave. You almost assure this Jungkook that his remark is nothing new. You almost begin to picture tugging him into the hidden closet on the third floor and— You cut off that train of thought.

“That’s Dr. (Y/l/n) to you, Mr. Jeon,” You turn to leave, pausing briefly to look at the duo of men over your shoulder, “Welcome to Bangtan High School.” With that, you stalk down the corridor. Your heels clicking emphatically as you leave the infuriatingly handsome and ignorant new hire in your dust.

You miss the longing sigh and the heart eyes that Jungkook sends after you. You miss Namjoon placing a hand on Jungkook’s shoulder and saying, “You royally fucked up, kid.” And you miss the way Jungkook scrunches his nose and pouts forlornly, “I know…”

The beginning of the school year arrives the following week. On the first day, you make sure to pick an impeccable first day outfit that screams ‘I’m a fucking badass bitch, and I will end sexism as we know it’. Of course, it’s an impossible task for any outfit to achieve, but your knee length black dress and black Louboutin heels come pretty damn close.

When you enter the doors of the high school at 6:30am, you look ready to kill. And when you lay eyes on Jeon Jungkook exiting the teacher’s lounge with a steaming hot mug of coffee looking like a snack, you think you just might. As soon as you start down the hallway towards him, Jungkook looks up at you and subsequently chokes.

You smirk, maybe you wouldn't have to get your hands dirty after all. “Morning, Jeon,” You sashay past him to enter the lounge he just exited. Unfortunately, he follows.

“G-good morning, Dr. (Y/l/n),” Jungkook says softly from your side as you prepare your own cup of caffeinated bliss, “I wanted to apologize for last week.”

You face him, eyebrows raised as you wait for him to continue. He blushes under your undivided attention and mumbles, “I’m really sorry. I realize that I sounded like a complete sexist asshole, and that isn’t me. I hope we can start over?”

God, he’s giving you the most adorable puppy-dog eyes you’ve ever seen. His curls are in complete disarray once again with one falling just so perfectly over his forehead. It’s honestly unfair that he looks this good at this infernal hour. Just for that alone, you let him sweat for a few more minutes as you turn back to finish making your coffee.

Finally, you address him, “Apology accepted.” He smiles widely, his eyes gleaming, and he opens his mouth to say something. You can’t have that. You place a finger over his plush lips and move closer to him, “But let me just say this. If you ever, ever say something like that in front of my kids, I will end you.” You grin wickedly up at him as you try to ignore just how good his lips feel under your finger and how much better they would feel on your—

“Good morning, Jungkook! Good morning, (Y/n)!” Vice Principal Kim Seokjin scurries into the teacher’s lounge somehow looking like he just woke up and stepped off the runway at New York Fashion Week simultaneously. “Happy first day of school!”

You pull your hand away from Jungkook’s mouth, grab your coffee, and head towards the door. “Back at you, Jin. Bye, Jeon,” You kick open the door with your heel and shoot them a small smile on your way out.

You miss the way that Jungkook adjusts himself in his low slung track pants. You miss the way Jin shakes his head amusedly after your departure and tells Jungkook, “That one’s a hurricane wrapped in a deceivingly cute package.” And you miss the way Jungkook nods absentmindedly as he licks his lips, ideas forming in his head…

The first weeks of school always fly by for you with new faces to learn, new courses to prepare, new material to deliver. You love every minute that you spent with your students.

But, you hate every last second that you spend hearing about the amazing new P.E. teacher and how handsome and sweet he is. It seems that everyone, aside from you, is completely whipped for Jungkook. Even your own students bring him up in your classroom, telling you about the new physical fitness regimen he has them on and raving about how cute he is.

Don’t even get you started on how much you despise seeing Jungkook in the hallways, in the teacher’s lounge, in the cafeteria. He seems to be everywhere you go, almost as if he tracks your location. He even pops his head into your classroom during your free period to say a shy, soft ‘hello, Dr. (Y/l/n)’ that sends you into a feral state each time.

Fuck, what is it about him that makes you go insane? One day last week you had even walked past the gym and had stopped dead in your tracks at the sight of a sweaty Jungkook wiping his face with the hem of his t-shirt. It had been a whole lot of abs and a whole lot more fuel for your fantasies.

It absolutely doesn’t help that you constantly catch him staring at you - your body, your legs, your mouth. You had even overheard him ranting to the media teacher Kim Taehyung about how sexy you are when you ignore him, how he wants you to like him, how he longs to please you.

You are at the absolute end of your tether - especially because you and Jungkook are supposed to begin constructing the Sex Ed. curriculum together soon. Just the thought of discussing anything sexual with the boy gives you way too many dirty ideas. You decide that you might as well just rip the bandaid off so to speak, and so the next time you spot that curly head of his wandering past your classroom after school, you gesture for him to come in with your pointer finger.

Jungkook’s eyes widen as he stumbles into your classroom. “Shut the door, please,” You say, getting up from your desk chair.

“Am I in trouble?” He jokes as he follows your orders. You glare at the tempting expanse of his back, his tapered waist, his tight ass.

And so you cannot resist teasing him. “Hm, do you want to be in trouble with me, Jeon?” You smirk at him as he faces you once again, his throat bobbing as he swallows.

“Maybe,” Jungkook mumbles. He fiddles with one of the rings on his fingers, a nervous habit no doubt.

You slowly walk towards him, your hips swaying. Stopping inches away from him, you grab his hand to stop his movements, “You’re a restless little boy, aren’t you?” You flip his palm over and place your hand in his, reveling in the size difference.

“W-what are you doing, Dr. (Y/l/n)?” Jungkook looks at you like he isn’t sure if he should run or kneel at your feet. You hope you can convince him to choose the latter.

You shift closer to him still and bring your mouth to his ear, “I’m playing with you, Jungkook.”

A whine bubbles up from his throat, “Say my name again. Please. I’ll do anything.”

You drop his hand and step away from him. Moving back to your desk, you prop yourself up on it and cross your legs. Your pencil skirt rides up just enough to show the garters of your tights. Jungkook chokes. You grin.

“I know you will, Jeon,” You continue to smile as he scowls at the use of his last name, “I heard what you said to Tae. You want to please me?”

Rather than be embarrassed like you thought, Jungkook swiftly approaches you and sinks to your feet. How divine. He gazes up at you with a mix of lust and hope, “Yes, more than anything, Dr. (Y/l/n).”

You slowly uncross your legs, giving him a glimpse of the lace that lies underneath your skirt. “Call me (y/n).”

His eyes widen further than you thought possible as he nibbles on his lip, “O-okay, (y/n).”

“Good boy,” You purr, reaching out to run your fingers through his hair. Jungkook leans into your touch, sighing.

Hesitantly, he looks up at you, his pupils blown out, “Can I touch you, (y/n)?”

“I suppose,” The words barely pass your lips before his hands are on you. His touch is tentative at first, running his hands slowly up your calves. He surprises you by placing a soft kiss to the inside of your knee, and for once you’re mad at yourself for wearing your favorite garter set.

His touch becomes more assured as he moves higher, his fingers digging into your thighs, his mouth placing hot kisses higher and higher. And before he can move his fingers over your panties, you tug his head back with your hand tangled in his hair.

“I don’t think I gave you permission to touch me there, Jungkook,” You frown, feigning disappointment.

His pout is fierce in response, “But, (y/n), you’re so wet. You smell so good. Please let me taste you. Let me make you come. I’ll make you feel good, I promise. Please.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” You sigh, “I can just call someone else who I already know will make me come hard.”

Jungkook bites your inner thigh, and you moan before you can stop yourself.

“You’re mine,” He glares up at you, “You’re my scary smart noona. Your orgasms belong to me.”

You push him backwards by placing the sole of your heel on his forehead, “And when was this decided? And why was I not consulted?”

“It was decided as soon as you looked at me,” Jungkook says like that should have been common knowledge, “And I didn’t tell you because I thought you would reject me.”

“And you don’t think I’ll still reject you?” You arch an eyebrow.

“No,” Jungkook grins, his hand coming up to grab your ankle, “I think you like me.” He tugs your leg over his shoulder, bringing you closer to him. His gaze flicks between your pussy and your eyes.

You roll your eyes at him, “You’re so infuriating. I can’t understand why I like you, but I do. Despite your terrible first impression, your annoyingly cute ass has gotten my attention.”

Jungkook’s grin is blinding, “So you do like me!”

“Against my better judgement,” You sigh, your lips twitching as you can’t help but stare fondly down at the smiling boy between your legs. “Now, are you going to please me, baby? Or just stare?”

Jungkook lunges forward, hitching your thigh further over his shoulder and pushing your underwear to the side. Barely pausing to breathe, his hot mouth is on you, closing over your clit without warning. You hum in pleasure, and Jungkook pauses to grin up at you.

“So responsive, noona,” The honorific rolling off his tongue, “And you taste so delicious. You’re so wet for me—”

You groan, “Jungkook, for the love of god, shut up and make me come.”

Jungkook sends you one last shit-eating grin before his tongue returns to lick at your pussy, up and down. His mouth finally returns to your clit, sucking it between his lips and swirling his tongue around it.

Your hand once again winds its way into his curls, pushing him harder against you. He moans into your pussy.

The sight of the boy you’ve lusted after and slightly hated for so long being tongue deep in your pussy practically pushes you over the edge already. God, why hadn’t you done this sooner? You think to yourself as Jungkook brings his fingers up to your folds and parts them.

His tongue sinks into you, your hips buck slightly against his face. His other hand comes around to steady you - and to grab your ass. Jungkook’s tongue flicks in and out of you, and you feel the heat building up.

“Jungkook,” You moan, hand tugging at his hair, “Harder, baby.”

Your words have their desired effect as he replaces his tongue with two of his fingers and places his mouth back on your clit. You moan as his fingers curl inside you, the rings cool to the touch as they brush your walls. You come with a gasp. Jungkook continues to fuck you with his fingers and his mouth, carrying you through your orgasm.

He licks up everything you give him, and when you gently push him off you, he licks his fingers clean. “Well?” Jungkook leans back on his heels, “Are you going to need to call anyone else after I made you come like that?”

“That depends,” You laugh, “Are you going to keep making me come like that?”

Jungkook nods, his gaze dead serious as he says, “(Y/n), noona, you’re never getting rid of me after that.”

“Oh my,” You tease, “Whatever did I get myself into?”

And his answering smile is breathtaking.

#bhqdrabbles #bangtanhq #ficswithluv #networkbangtan #btswriterscollective #btswritingcafe #hyunglinenetwork #kwritersworldnet #bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #btsnoonanet #jungkook x reader #jjk x reader #jungkook smut #jungkook fic #bts smut #jjk smut

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ri-ahhh · 3 years

Text

good times

things come to a head, as it were. part 3 in this lil trilogy.

warnings: kinda long, almost all smut, probably one of the dirtier things I’ve written in a while

A/N: once again, I apologize this is so long and there’s no keep reading break. Even if tumblr did work on my laptop, my cat chewed up my charger and it’s dead so.. yeah. Sorry again.

***

The next afternoon finds you and Grayson in his car, munching on a lunch of Monty’s and sitting in otherwise companionable silence as Cudi’s album plays quietly from the speakers.

You had slept like a rock the night before. The heat from Grayson’s body in his almost too-comfy bed beneath the fluffy comforter, with his arm slung around your waist to keep you close to him all night, had lulled you off to sleep faster than you can ever remember having done before.

The orgasm might have helped, too. But it was him that had kept you safe and cozy and warm enough to wake up feeling like a new woman.

Enough so that you let him coax you awake in the middle of the sunrise this morning, his eyes puffy but cheeks full as he grinned down at you sleepily and pushed a rogue chunk of hair out of your face. That gruff morning voice convinced you to do the unthinkable — leave the bed and go on a morning jog with him.

“Fine,” you had grumbled, not sounding nearly as sexy as him with your raspy, unused voice. “But you owe me.”

Grayson chuckled, and you felt the dip in the mattress as he stood up and stretched. “Owe you what?”

You cracked an eye open and watched him, the thick muscles all over his body elongating as he lifted his arms over his head with a big yawn. He’s just wearing his underwear, and you’re suddenly very conscious of the fact that you’re similarly dressed in a pair of his boxers and his hoodie he had given you after... everything.

He says your name, and your eyes zip to his handsome face; away from where they had been admiring the perfect curve of his ass in those skin-tight briefs.

“Huh?”

He’s full-on smirking at you, and frustratingly you can feel the flush creep into your cheeks despite yourself. You groan and bury your face in the pillow. “Shut up.”

To your surprise, the bed shifts again as he climbs back onto it on his knees. You turn your head just in time for him to dip down and press his lips to your temple gently.

“I said you can tell me what I owe you after we’re done with our run.” He yanks the covers back, and your disapproving whine turns into a giggly yelp when he smacks your ass lightly. “Chop chop, little onion. Let’s go.”

The run wasn’t bad, even though you had to borrow a pair of shorts and some tennis shoes that were a half size too small for you from Kristina. He let you pick the playlist to play through the speaker on his phone, and you actually enjoyed the rush of crisp morning air around you. But after putting you through a watered-down version of his calisthenics workout after the run, you decided that what he owed you was a nice, juicy vegan burger to replenish yourselves.

“You know what I just realized?”

You’re halfway through sucking a big bite of ice cream off your spoon when he breaks the comfortable quiet between you. Your brows raise in question, and he casually throws another fry into his mouth before continuing, eyeing you through the side of his sunglasses.

“After all we’ve done lately... we’ve never even kissed.”

That throws you for a loop. Your gaze drifts unseeing out the windshield as you consider his observation. Now that you think about it, you can’t recall that happening, either.

“Yeah, I guess you’re right,” you say, pulling the now-clean spoon out of your mouth. You scoop a bit of whipped cream onto it, and slip it in again as you look up at him with a smirk. “At least, not on the lips.”

He gives a little huff of laughter through his nose, accepting the bite of ice cream you offer him. There’s a brief moment of silence as he sits back in his seat a bit and swallows. “We should change that.”

You’re hunting through the cup of milkshake to find the perfect chunk of Oreo when he says it, and you jerk your head in surprise. “Oh.. yeah?”

Grayson nods and smiles. “Yeah.”

You swallow. Why are you suddenly so nervous? “Now?”

He shrugs. “Now. Later. Doesn’t matter. I just think we should.”

“Why?”

What a dumb question, you tell yourself, mentally giving yourself a face-palm. Grayson seems unfazed by it, though, and just keeps looking at you softly as he sucks a bit of salt off his thumb before crumpling up his napkin and stuffing it in the paper bag.

“Just doesn’t sit right with me that I’ve licked your pussy and not — well, your other lips.”

“Grayson!” He’s unbelievable, saying stuff like that so casually. You reach for his tea and take a big chug, feeling your face heat up while he laughs heartily.

“What? It’s true!” He snatches the drink back and takes his own sip, pushing his sunglasses to the top of his head. “Are you forgetting that the first time I saw you naked was when you masturbated for me? Don’t get shy on me now, babe.”

You pout at him, annoyed,because he’s right. You don’t even have an explanation for why you’re being like this; one of the reasons you and Gray always got on so well from the beginning is because you had basically no filter with each other, both comfortable with talking about everything from bathroom habits to hookups. But there’s a level of intimacy you now share with him that does, indeed, have you... well, shy. Anxious.

Excited.

Grayson must sense a shift in your energy, or maybe he just notices the way your eyes suddenly can’t stay off his lips, try as they might. He sits the drink in the cup holder, and you both subconsciously shift in your seats to face each other better. His hand reaches out and cups your cheek, his long fingers curling around your jaw and into your hair, his thumb brushing your lower lip gently.

His hazel eyes dart to your mouth, then back to your eyes, and there’s a mutual movement the both of you make toward one another, so that neither could claim or decide who moved first. But suddenly his lips are planted softly on yours — much softer than you would have anticipated for Grayson to be. They’re firm for a second as you both process the moment, but it’s definitely you who quickly lets out a little gasp and shifts just enough so his full bottom lip gets trapped between yours.

His breath is warm as it escapes through his nose, and there’s pure electricity when he pulls you closer with that hand on your face that slides to the back of your neck. Your own hand clutches at his arm as the other uses the console for leverage to push yourself towards him, too, all while you take turns sucking and nipping each other’s lips.

Your mouths are slippery when you finally part for breath, however much later that is. You both sit back in your respective seats, chests heaving a bit as you smile to yourselves and consider how amazing that first kiss was.

“Gray?”

He looks at you, brow raised but swollen lips lifted.

“I don’t want to stop.”

Grayson’s eyes darken, heat smoldering in his gaze as he lets out a deep breath, reaching for your hand. “Fuck. C’mere, please.”

You shake your head, even though your body is screaming to give in to his request and scramble into his lap. “Too busy outside,” you point out, nodding to the hustle and bustle of LA right outside the window.

Grayson sighs again and interlaces your fingers together. “Buckle up, then. Let’s go home.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice, and before you know it he’s putting the car in drive and taking off down the road.

“Too bad we’re not in the Tesla,” you say slyly, unlocking your hand from his so you can rub your palm across his lap. You grin when you feel the start of his erection beneath the thin shorts he’s wearing.

“God...” Grayson takes your hand again and kisses the back of it before tangling you’re fingers again and holding them together over the gearshift. “Next time, baby, next time.”

Your heart thrills at the thought of a ‘next time,’ but for now you concentrate on making it home for this time.

By some kind of miracle, there’s hardly any traffic on the way back to the house. The air is electric between you the whole time, and Grayson barely has the car in park once the gate is shut and you’re in the driveway before he’s unbuckling and throwing himself at you.

You welcome his kiss with a moan, sliding your fingers through his thick hair as you welcome his invading tongue past your lips. It slides against yours with practiced ease that has you positively melting into your seat — which you’re made aware you’re still trapped in by the locking of the seatbelt when you try to lunge at him to get even closer.

Grayson grunts, and presses the little red button for you as he rips his mouth away, then leans across your body with his eyes locked on yours the whole time to open the passenger door.

No words are needed; the look you two share does enough talking. You both scramble out of the car, holding hands as soon as you meet again. Grayson leads you to the front door as you hurry behind him, and you follow him past the threshold closely. Luckily, there’s no one between you and his room to stop and ask questions or pass judgments, and the click of his bedroom door is the final barrier you need before you’re on each other like wild rabbits.

You reach hastily for each other’s tops right at the same time, and you both smile quickly. He lets you go first, raising his arms above his head so you can whip his t-shirt off with relative ease, even though you have to go on your tip-toes. You barely get the chance to admire all those smooth muscles before you’re blinded by the fabric of your own shirt.

“I’ve wanted this for so fucking long,” Grayson says lowly, admiring your tits in your sports bra for a second before he’s removing that, too. You smile shyly and help him rid you of the constricting garment, throwing it across the room once it’s cleared your head.

“Me too.” He’s pulling out your ponytail next, letting your hair cascade around your shoulders freely. You step back and kick your shoes off while he does the same, tugging off your shorts and underwear as well before jumping back into his arms once you’re both naked.

Grayson groans and hoists you up, and your legs lock around his waist as his lips find your neck. His dick, already completely hard, gets trapped between your hips and his belly, and you rock into it slowly. You sigh with modicum of relief it brings, and your eyes roll back when he bites down at the junction of your shoulder. You thread your fingers tightly into the hair at the back of his head to hold him there. “Fuck... Gray..”

He grunts in response, turning to walk you to the unmade bed you had both vacated just that morning. You cling to him as he lays you down, unwilling to let him go far even though he’s quite literally completely on top of you. He puts enough space between your torsos so he has room to gaze down at you beneath him. Hair fanned out on the pillow, dark red marks already rising to the surface of your skin, breasts full and heaving.

“So beautiful,” he says, sliding a hand up your side, stopping to squeeze your waist, which makes you squirm, before cupping one of your breasts in that calloused palm.

He’s the beautiful one, really. His eyes are soft and sweet, glowing a certain shade of green you’ve only seen a couple of times by now. His muscles bulge, his lips extra pink and puffy. His dick stands tall and thick between you.

He’s almost too much, too perfect. But you can’t let this go any further without making sure he knows what you really want of him, more than anything.

“Gray,” you say his name again, getting his full attention. You grin demurely up at him, and reluctantly take his hand away from where he’s squeezing your tit pleasurably. Eyes locked on his, you kiss his warm palm before murmuring. “I don’t want to stop.”

He looks a little confused, and his thumb strokes your cheekbone slowly. “I know, baby. Isn’t that what we’re doing?”

You nod, taking a deep breath. “Yeah. But I just — I don’t want to stop ever. I want to be able to have you all the time. Whenever.”

Grayson keeps staring down at you, and you blush furiously even as a smile breaks across his handsome features. “Are you saying you want to be together? Like for real?”

You sigh in relief, and hold his hand still so you can nuzzle your cheek against it. “Yeah. I - you know I suck at words.”

Grayson chuckles and lowers down to his elbows, his mouth so close to yours you can feel his sweet breath against your lips. “I do. It’s fucking adorable.”

Your smile turns wider for a second, but in the next you bite your lip and you wrap your arms around his neck to keep him exactly where he his. Your fingers dip down to blindly trace the lion tattoo on his sinewy back. “Do you - I mean, do you want the same?”

His expression softens, and he stares down at you for a moment before answering you with a gentle kiss.

“Absolutely,” he mumbles against your lips. “Didn’t I just tell you: I’ve wanted it for a long time now.”

“Let’s not waste any more, then,” you whisper heatedly, the drive to become completely consumed by him glaring up in your chest, your belly, your pussy once more.

Grayson seems to be on the same page, because the kiss he meets you with this time is hot and heavy and has you grinding into each other with thick moans and hands all over one another.

You wiggle your hand in the minute space between your bodies to grasp his dick, which is already slick from your juices. You watch his face as you give him slow, steady pumps, swirling the precum around his slit and twisting your fist at the head.

“Want this dick inside me,” you whisper, a fierce edge to your voice that has him biting his lip with a groan and his hips thrusting hard into your hand.

He shakes his head, whether in disbelief or an answer to your demand, you’re not sure. “Lemme eat your pussy again.”

Any other time, you would already be pushing on those broad shoulders, but not now. “The last couple weeks have been enough foreplay, I think. I want all of you, right now.”

He stares deeply into your eyes, as if he’s checking to make sure you’re sure, and you nod at him.

Grayson sighs and slips his hand down to join yours, wrapping around your slimmer one to guide him inside you together. You both inhale sharply, and let go of his cock as he sinks deeper, eyes locked once again while he slides home.

“God... damn,” he whispers harshly, tucking his hand behind your neck and dragging you up the short distance to meet his mouth.

You whine in return against his lips and hitch your knees higher up his waist, rubbing his back comfortingly as you both acclimate to him being inside you for the first time. He’s already stretching you out better than anyone has before, made even more intense by the fact that it’s Grayson in you, on you, around you.

“Fuck me, baby,” you beg sweetly, the pet name slipping past your lips with surprising ease.

You nip and suckle his earlobe, moaning loudly when he obeys and pulls out almost completely before pushing back in to the hilt slowly.

Grayson builds a rhythm like that, steady and perfect as he follows your cues to give you exactly what you want. When you whimper for him to fuck you harder, he sits up just enough to hook your knees over his elbows, then leans down over your body once again to thrust into you with an even better angle with better leverage.

“You want it like that?” he asks shakily, his voice gruff and full of sex as he pumps in and out of your pussy with dangerously smooth, even strokes that have you crying out his name in answer. Your hands claw at his thick, round shoulders, nails digging into the snake head and the bird feathers inked into his golden skin “Fuck, your pussy feels so fucking good. So fuckin wet, baby.”

You force your eyes open and stare at his flushed face, admiring the sweat clinging to his chest and brow and the way his chain dangles between you. One of your hands leaves his shoulder and hooks a finger into the silver, using it to tug him down for a deep, wet kiss that has your toes curling in the air.

The angle change has you gasping against his mouth, your lips dropping open against his as you tell him desperately, “Right there, right there...” and slide your hand between your bodies to rub the perfect slow circles on your clit.

He must feel you getting tighter around him, because he groans into your open mouth, sliding his tongue inside to meet yours sloppily. “Oh my god, baby, you gonna cum? Huh?”

You let your loud, breathy cries be his answer, until your moaning out his name as you clamp vice-like around his dick.

Grayson’s hand knocks yours out of the way when he feels it falter, and he takes over for you so you can ride out the bliss without distractions. He slows his thrusts inside you, until your breath has calmed down some and the flutters of your pussy fade away.

You open your eyes to find him enthralled by your blissful features, and smile up at him tiredly. Grayson lets your legs fall from his arms, and you wrap them instead around his waist, your hands finding the sweaty planes of his back. “Holy shit...”

“Yeah?” Grayson smirks down at you. His hands find your breasts and squeeze them, his thumbs rubbing your nipples, before letting one hand travel up to your jaw. He slips his thumb past your lips, letting you suck on it with pure seduction in your eyes as your hips twitch beneath his.

“Your turn,” you murmur, arching your back when he sits up to his knees and takes hold of your waist. You thrust your arms beneath your pillow, letting your tits bounce enticingly with every hard thrust he gives you in search of his own release. His eyes flit impatiently between where his glistening cock is disappearing over and over inside your swollen pussy, to your chest, to your pretty face begging him with both eyes and quiet whispers to let you have it.

It doesn’t take long for him to let out a guttural growl and pull out quickly, jerking off over your stomach as he shoots ropes up your torso. You hum contently and take over for him, thoroughly enjoying the warm liquid white streaking up your skin as you watch him fall apart.

Grayson collapses next to you weakly, chest heaving as he comes back down to earth. You grin and slide over to snuggle up to him, kissing his pec when he throws a heavy arm over your shoulders to hold you there as best he can in the moment.

You give him the time he needs, until he’s turning his head and coaxing your lips to his. You indulge him for a moment, then pull away with a low hum.

“We should shower,” you suggest with a happy sigh. You look down at your tummy and breasts, chuckling. “Your cum kind of got everywhere.”

Grayson laughs. “Wouldn’t be the first time.”

You smirk and grab his hand, using his own finger to collect a streak that’s managed to stay almost completely on your skin, scooping it up and sucking it into your mouth with your eyes on his. You give him a wink.

“Won’t be the last, either.”

#dolan twins #grayson dolan #blurb #g blurb #smut #grayson dolan smut

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