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sukirichi · 4 years ago

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sweet lies [02]

His lies were way too sweet – and you were too addicted to make him stop.

cw. explicit smut, slight body worship, public sex, dirty talk, praising, toxic megumi, fwb dynamics, slight angst, body marking, sukuna bullying megumi, age gap, scratching, mentions of oral (m receiving) and mutual masturbation, the traditional unedited fic

note. choose your fighter, megumi or sukuna 😈 also UHM do you guys want me to make the ending angsty or fluffy? i wrote out two versions so LOL let me know what you think! we’ll get more of the megumi scenes on the next chapter though~

series masterlist | 01 | 02 | 03

Sukuna isn’t kidding when he said he’ll have you unable to walk by the end of this.

You’ve lost count of how many times you guys have fucked.

Once more in the stalls when you thought of repaying the favor by sucking him off, followed by him growing impatient and hauling you inside his car. Both of you were too tired to go for another round, but were still very much addicted for the other’s touch that mutual masturbation seems like the best option.

Thankfully, Sukuna’s cut his nails, so having three of his fingers buried knuckle deep in you feels like absolute heaven. He’s not complaining about your smooth hands wrapped around his shaft either, especially not when you’ve had enough practice with Megumi to know just how to make a guy lose his mind. By the time you’ve made it back home, Sukuna’s grown hard again, too impatient to make it to the bed before he just fucks you raw against the wall. You’re trembling at his hold, left with no choice but to trust his strength to drop you on his cock and bounce you to his pleasure.

It’s a miracle you’ve made it on the bed.

His digital clock reads a quarter at three in the morning, and for a moment, you worry about how tired you’ll be in class tomorrow when Sukuna’s large hands grips your thighs sharply.

“Goddamn,” he hisses through clenched teeth, chuckling at the irresistible sight of your breasts bouncing before him. Limbs tangled, minds controlled with the primal need to fuck, and moans shared with his deep grunts – you somehow end up on top of him, your thighs feeling like they’re on the verge of giving up as you continue to ride his thick length.

“You are so fucking sexy,” he slaps your ass and causes your hips to rut deeper, forcing that delicious curve of his cock to meld with your walls. You throw your head back, palms planted on his chest, focused only on that burning pleasure between your thighs. “I could fuck you all night long.”

Even though you truly have no wish to, you shake your head, fingers balling into a fist. “I have class tomorrow, need to wake up early,” you protest, the words falling into deaf ears as Sukuna thrusts up into you. He must’ve noticed how you’re growing tired and took matters into his own hands, feet grounded on the mattress to pound deliriously into you. You’re debating whether to be thankful or frustrated he still has so much energy even after hours of fucking, but it honestly doesn’t matter. You’re falling into his chest, arms slipping on your equally sweat-covered bodies. Right now, you just wanted to cum – once more, again, one last time! “Ah, Sukuna, t-too much!”

“Too much?” he laughs and tangles his hand to caress your scalp, the gesture too soothing that you almost forgot he’s fucking you into oblivion. “Want me to go slow?”

“No…”

“Thought so, sweetheart,” his grin is absolutely cocky as he bends his knees in a fold, pushing you until your back rests on his muscular thighs. Your mouth falls open at his hands wrapping around your threat, keeping you right there, hips flat and grinding on his cock. “Come on. Come for me,” Sukuna urges, tightening his hold around your neck a little harder.

That’s all you need for your vision to blur and see stars, your body’s shaking uncontrollable. He’s thrusting with all his power and energy that it feels like you’re nothing but a hole on top of him, tongue falling open in a wanton manner as your drool trails down your chin.

You look filthy, you feel filthy, and yet, Sukuna sees it entirely different.

“So – fucking – gorgeous, fuck. I woulda fucked you sooner if I didn’t feel weird about it.”

“What?”

“Aw, come on, sweetheart,” he smirks at your half fucked out state. Sukuna rolls his hips in such a mind numbing manner that you end up staring at the ceiling, trying your hardest to decipher the colors of his room to get a grip of yourself. But he feels so hot, cock throbbing and pulsing inside you, your puffy lips encasing him with a translucent ring of cum and it feels so fucking good you don’t really understand what he’s saying anymore. “Did you really think I never saw you in my dreams?” he slaps your ass again, the reflexive response of tightening around him pulling a deep groan from the beautiful man beneath you. “I have such a sexy roommate, I couldn’t help it.”

“Then why didn’t you – ah, right there, shit – tell me?”

“Cuz,” he snickers and finally lets you breathe, your pupils blowing wide from the sudden flow of air. Sukuna kneads your breasts greedily, never stopping his mind-numbing rhythm of ramming deep into you. Your body burns, your thighs ache, your pussy feels sensitive but you can’t find the energy to stop him. Instead, you fall prey, failing in your mission to keep him wrapped around your fingers because now you’re wrapped around his cock, and you were quite fucking addicted to it. “You’re my friend’s student. Felt so fucking wrong.”

“What’s the difference now?”

“The difference is,” Sukuna’s face contorts into something of discomfort for a moment before he leans forward, his sturdy grip homing in on your hips again. You feel his searing breath on your ear, so parching it puts the warmth of your pussy to shame. “Having you like this has never felt so right, and I’ll keep fucking you if you let me.”

“I-I’d let you,” you concede absentmindedly and capture his lips for a sloppy kiss, tongues giving up on a battle of dominance. You’re always so clingy when you’re about to come, something Megumi never fails to chastise you for, and you fear Sukuna might push you away as you wrap an arm around him, nails painfully scratching down his back. Red marks leave a trail on its wake until his blood pierces through the sheets, the pain manifested through the increasing roughness of his pace. Now it’s your turn to whimper in his ear, pulling the man close and tugging harshly at the ends of his hair. Gosh, were you actually crying? “Sukuna, I’m close! Yes, yes, right there!”

Sukuna groans at the erotic sounds you reward him with. “Come for me, that’s right, ohhhh,” he stills inside you, his seed spilling deep inside you. You wince at the burst of warmth spreading all over your belly and Sukuna chuckles at your bulging belly. He presses down on it to coax his cum to trickle all over his cock, and he’s fucking filthy – you learn easily – to watch you make a mess on his cock with a childish smile on his face.

You push yourself off him and fall to his side, him following suit not long afterwards. The room feels completely stuffed from your intense fucking, the bruises on your body and scratches on his back a huge attestment to that.

Your legs remain wide open as you clench around nothing, his cum oozing out like a waterfall. Sukuna (that damned pervert) dips two fingers into your hole for one last moment just to drench his fingers in it, his eyes lit up in wonder while he lets it web around his fingers. You snicker at his actions and roll to his side, eyes fluttering close from the wave of exhaustion that comes into full force.

The lingerie set you intended to wear for Megumi was now ripped at the other side of the room, discarded, forgotten – merely evidence of a moment that had never been given to him.

Oddly enough, you don’t feel bad, not even when Sukuna faces you, his cheeks squished by his soft pillows. “I’m spent. I don’t think I’ve ever been this tired. My gym sessions can’t compare to this.”

“You go to the gym?”

“Yeah. I wasn’t born this gorgeous, you know. I had to work hard for this,” Sukuna gestures to his body. You can’t help but follow the gestures and admire the hard planes of his muscle ripped above one another, the smatter of dark hair leading down his hips adding to his already immense sexual charisma. It makes you want to jump on him all over again, and you have to bite your lip to resist that urge, rolling your eyes at him in favor of letting him know you could totally go for another round.

“Dork.”

“Got me laid though, was worth the effort,” he jokes, and you both laugh.

It’s actually…weird, to laugh so casually with someone like this. It might be normal for Sukuna in his past sexual endeavors, but it’s totally a different thing for you. You and Megumi had never even bothered with aftercare. As long as he’s satisfied himself, he’d clean himself off in the bathroom and wear his sweatpants, winking at you before he leaves you alone all over again. The memory – albeit not really a regrettable one – is still painful each time you’re reminded you’ll keep coming back to him.

But are things different now? Could you go back to Megumi? You only ever wanted to fuck Sukuna because you’re sad and horny, but it wouldn’t be fair to him, especially when your roommate has been nothing but nice to you. Besides, him being a little more decent doesn’t immediately equate he’s different than Megumi.

For all you know, you could just be another cheap fuck. Sukuna is older and sexier, after all, he’s clearly had a lot more experience than you do.

As if reading your mind, Sukuna rests his head on his palms, elbows flat on the bed as he turns to you. The expression on his face is unreadable, but there’s some sort of softness behind it – a softness you’re not really familiar with.

“Hey. I don’t exactly know what you’re going through, not everything, anyway, but whatever we have right now, I want you to know it’s not because I see just as a pretty pussy, okay?” he says with a straight face, but you really shouldn’t have gotten your hopes up because Sukuna smirks, mischievous eyes darting back and forth to your soaked pussy and bare breasts. “Although you do have a pretty pussy. Can I eat you out again?”

With that, you snatch the pillow underneath him and whack it straight at his face. Sukuna laughs at your protests, the sound growing louder and a lot more mocking the harder you hit him. “Gosh, Sukuna, shut up!”

You end up hitting him way too many times in the face that he can’t get his words through, and before you could react, Sukuna’s ripped the pillow away from you. He cages you in his arms and hovers over you once more, his boneless dick grazing the insides of your thigh. It’s not meant to be sexual, and nothing about his stance gives off anything that shows he wants to do it again, but you can’t help but feel aroused, shifting your legs up and down the bed as you squirm.

“Seriously though,” he repeats, “We can be casual, or this could be a one time thing. Card’s all yours to play. If you want to forget everything tomorrow, I’d gladly do it. Let’s just go back to the way we were-”

“Sukuna.”

“Yes?”

“Did you really think I was only using you to distract myself?”

Sukuna’s lips flatten into a line. “I’m not stupid,” he says somberly, “I could tell you were still thinking about him. Not that I mind, though, you can’t stop yourself from loving someone,” Faintly, you’re distracted by his thumbs rubbing at your pulse point. It’s so lulling you want to fall asleep, but Sukuna isn’t done talking. “My point is…you don’t have to worry about being weird with me. We could just be friends with benefits, if you want, and not the kind you have with your boy toy either. ”

His blatantly catches you off guard and your eyes widen before they narrow at him, trying your best to hide your embarrassment. If Megumi was painfully honest, Sukuna’s ridiculously blunt that his mere words make your heart do weird things you’d rather not feel.

Careful, you remind yourself, Megumi is the one you want. You have to keep reminding yourself that before your feelings get the best of you. It’s Megumi, it’s always been Megumi and it always will be Megumi. Sukuna is just your roommate who’s nice enough to take your mind off things. You only wish you weren’t lying too much in case he gets the wrong idea you’re leading him on, but then again, isn’t that what you’re doing?

Friends with benefits or not – you still have no plans on getting involved with this guy any longer.

It’s always Megumi. You just really needed a quick fuck, someone whose dick didn’t belong with the guy you’re so hung up on over. The change feels nice and you definitely feel a lot better than the last time you met Megumi, but this guilt…it tastes bitter on your tongue, too heavy to swallow and ignore. It’s always Megumi, you tell yourself again in an attempt to relieve your pain.

Though it doesn’t subside and you huff in exasperation, turning away from Sukuna. You can’t stand looking at him right now.

“I’m not,” you mumble weakly, but the tears – the guilt, the heartbreak of not being Megumi’s lover, the regret and the ironic need to be closer to Sukuna feels all so confusing – all threaten to burst through. You don’t want him to see you cry, that would be lame, so you scoot closer to him and kiss his shoulder as you shyly ask, “C-can we cuddle?”

“Of course,” he chuckles, pulling you closer, “You don’t have to sound too nervous to ask.”

“Sorry, it’s just-”

“He never does that?”

“…Yeah.”

“Well, I’m not him,” Sukuna answers confidently, surprising you when he grabs your ass to press you flush against him. You’re both sweaty and hot to the point it’s uncomfortable, but Sukuna smells so sweet with his lingering cologne that you can’t help yourself from planting your face in his neck, breathing in the little hums he makes. Sukuna kisses the crown of your head – which is a little too sweet than you’d like – while his other hand runs down your back in a slow, sensual manner. Hell, it feels close to body worshipping, and you hate that you silently want more of this. “I’d cuddle you every day if you asked me to.”

“You’re surprisingly sweet,” you voice with a smile. Sukuna’s chest rumbles from the low laughter, and like that, you cling to him like he’s the only sturdy pillar in your life. It’s pathetic, maybe even desperate, but if he doesn’t mind, then why should you?

However, the moment is quickly ruined when the bell rings. “Shit, I forgot he was coming over!”

Sukuna glares at the door and holds you tighter, almost possessively, and refuses to let you go even as you squirm under him. “At three in the morning?”

“Yes, but I don’t want to meet him right now,” you groan helplessly.

Sukuna shoots you a blank look after that, then shoots out of the bed in an instant. You watch as he quickly dresses up in a fresh pair of sweatpants, grabbing a random hoodie from the back of his chair, presumably to hide the scratch marks. You have to hide your smile behind your hand because he looks so drool-worthy with marks littered on his already marked skin, and the fact he lets you mark him is even hotter.

He pauses at the door for a moment, pointing a finger at where you peered up at him curiously. “Stay there. I’ll talk to him and say you went out or whatever. Just make sure to silence your phone in case he calls. Better yet, turn it off.”

Sukuna closes the door behind him, already on the way to the entrance just as you press your ears against the door to eavesdrop. There’s a slight shuffling before the door unlocks, then, “Why the fuck did you lock-” Megumi pauses in his words, and you can perfectly picture his infamous scowl painting his handsome features already. Gosh, you wish you could actually see it, but if Megumi catches you sleeping with someone else, he might totally lose interest in you. That’s not something you could afford to happen.

“Oh. You’re her roommate.” You snigger at his usual what the fuck tone – how Megumi of him.

“Hey, kid, it’s a little too late for a visit, don’t you think?” Sukuna taunts, and it takes everything in you to not burst through the door at that moment. You’re stuck between wanting to laugh and crying, mostly because you would love and hate for Megumi to get riled up. “Do your parents know you’re here? Kids shouldn’t be out this late.”

“I’m not a fucking kid, I’m in uni,” he defends, “Do you know where Y/N is? I need to talk to her.”

Deciding fuck it, you open the door by an inch, just enough to peek. As expected, Megumi is glaring behind Sukuna’s shoulders in search of you. Meanwhile, Sukuna’s completely calm, checking his nails boredly as if Megumi isn’t fuming in front of him. And boy, do you know how much Megumi hates being ignored. “Oh, I think she went out, I don’t know why though. House was empty when I got here.”

“She didn’t tell you where she was going?”

At Megumi’s imposing tone, Sukuna tilts his head to scrutinize Megumi. Now that you’re seeing them together, Sukuna’s twice the size of Megs, their height and shoulder width too different to start comparing. But knowing Megumi, he’s not going to back down from a tattooed guy twice his size, not even as he sarcastically remarks, “Ain’t you her friend? She should be telling you that kind of stuff.”

Truthfully, you expected he would put up more of a fight. The two of them share a heated staring competition before Megumi scoffs, the first one to look away. “Whatever,” he dismisses, “Tell her to pick her damn phone up. I’ve been calling for the past hour.”

“I think I should tell her to get better friends.”

“What was that?”

“I said get home safely,” Sukuna chirps. Even with his back turned to you, you could tell Sukuna’s just further pressing his buttons with a grin that’s not meant to be inviting at all. Just when you think it’s done, however, Sukuna finishes off with, “Kid.”

Megumi rages. His blue eyes flame into something feral, his fists balled at his sides. He’s always had a temper issue and you nearly reveal yourself to stop whatever fight is about to ensue, but Sukuna’s already closing the door, ridding any opportunity for the younger one to retaliate. At the sound of the door closing, Sukuna leans against the door, his smile still plastered on his face as if he knows you’re watching the whole time. He meets your eyes from the slight peep of his door, waving his hands sarcastically.

“Sukuna, you didn’t have to be so mean.”

“Sorry,” he isn’t apologetic at all. “Next time I’ll be nicer to your asshole crushes,” he adds with a slight roll of his eyes and you punch his chest playfully. You don’t stop him from grabbing your wrists to embrace you in a hug that doesn’t seem so platonic – but not so suggestive either. Sukuna rests his chin on top of your hand while he sways you both side to side, his voice muffled in your hair. “I understand why you’re attracted to him though. He’s really handsome.”

“Yeah, he is,” you agree sadly, thinking of how much it’s really all a waste Megumi has to be like that. “Just sucks his personality ruins everything.”

“A pretty face is always deceiving,” Sukuna suddenly pulls away and holds you an arm’s length away. “Hey, want to have early breakfast?”

“I think that would be late dinner,” you frown at him.

“Whatever, food is food,” he responds rather excitedly, and you watch as Sukuna rummages through the fridge. Now that you think about it, having sex so much really took a toll on you, and your stomach grumbles loudly. Sukuna hides his chuckles through the fridge but you hear him anyway, shouting at him that you’re not hungry. “Wasn’t asking, sweetheart. Now go get cleaned and changed, I’ll make something for you.”

If anyone were to tell you that a good fucking is all that’s needed for you to immediately form a new kind of friendship with your roommate, you’d call them weird. Sukuna isn’t necessarily out of reach, you and him just simply didn’t cross paths.

But now, you’re dressed comfortably in his boxers and the oversized shirt you stole from him, eating the slightly burn cheese sandwich he’s made, sharing conversation and laughing with him like you’ve been doing it for such a long time. Your sandwich is actually half forgotten on the plate as you whack your palms on the counter, “That’s how you and Prof Gojo met? I never would’ve expected you guys fought over a girl!”

“He was fucking annoying in high school,” Sukuna grumbles over an angry bite, “He was getting all the girls that when someone confessed to me, the hottest chick, no less, he straight up punched me in the face,” you laugh as you imagine the memory of a younger, already rebellious looking Sukuna getting smacked by the even more intolerable Gojo Satoru. Sukuna is lost in his own memories as well, shaking his head from around the last bites of his bread. It’s clear he hates the burnt crust judging from the way he turns a little green, but he’s bragged about his cooking skills so proudly that he has to save face in front of you. “Ah, such good times,” he muses before wincing at his own words, dropping his bread in disgust. “Damn, I sound old, don’t I?”

“You’re only like, five years older than me, it’s fine,” you giggle, “I like the maturity that comes with older people. You’re a lot easier to be with than guys my age.”

“Please,” Sukuna smirks, “Just say you like fucking older men. I won’t judge.”

If anyone were to tell you that you would be jumping over the counter to strangle your roommate who’s now running like hell, your laughter bursting through the once silent apartment, you would call them a liar. But now, you and Sukuna are panting on the floor, too tired from sprinting all around before calling it quits. Maybe it’s a lie – maybe this connection will never really be that much of a big deal – but as long as this lie and play pretend of friendship lasts, you’ll just enjoy every sweet moment of it.

taglist (lmk if you want to be added/removed) (bold can’t be tagged) @uwubby-1 @expectoscamander @your-consulting-fangirl @dora-the-grownup @cosmotoic @charlie-xo @kittaliapenn @sukunas-cult-leader @flowersgirl02 @cloudsinthecosmos @90s-belladonna @averysheart-raleighsdick @generousstudentpsychic-bat @kat-su-ki @issamomma

#sukuna x reader #sukuna x reader smut #ryoumen sukuna x reader #ryoumen sukuna x reader smut #sukuna smut #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #jujutsu kaisen x reader smut #sukuna x reader angst #sukuna x reader romance #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jujutsu kaisen x reader imagines #jjk #jjk x reader #sukuna x reader imagines #ryoumen sukuna imagines #sukuna imagines #sweet lies: part two

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emmys-writing · 3 years ago

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Ballerina

Pairing- Hotchner x Reid

Warnings- bottom spencer, explicit content, dom hotch, sir kink, small cock spencer, this is unedited, hotch is kind of a dick but not really, short spencer, ballerina spence, jack is in ballet <3, degradation

When the class of 6 year olds finally was rounded up and cleared out of the studio by stressed and exhausted parents, Spencer sighed in relief. The last kid was picked up 20 minutes late and of course it was inconvenient but Spencer loved these kids. They always had bright happy smiles on their faces and cute clumsy wobbles as they tried to balance on the bar the way Spencer did. Spencer smiled softly and hummed to himself, grabbing the loose pieces of garbage that occasionally littered the floor. It wasn’t until he heard a throat being cleared that he jumped with a small yelp and looked towards the door where the noise came from.

Aaron Hotchner, Jack's father who rarely showed up to their rehearsals, stood there with his arms crossed and his normal stern facial expression on. As much as Spencer wanted to remain professional, he couldn’t help but notice how handsome the older gentleman was. He wore a gray suit that although slightly unfitted, still fit the broad and muscled shoulders and Spencer hated to admit it but this man was definitely a weakness of his. He was arrogant at times and not one for joking around, if he did show up he didn’t stay to chat either. He just grabbed Jack and left.

“Sorry Mr. Hotchner, I didn't see you there!” Spencer blushed and connected his own hands behind his back in a shy manner. Aaron just nodded.

“I’m here to pick up jack” Straight to the point.

“O-Oh… Jessica actually already picked him up. I’m sorry sir, i would’ve phoned you if i knew you planned on picking him up” He explained, walking closer and flashing an apologetic smile. Normally if this was any other parent he would roll his eyes at the bad planning but Mr Hotchner was different. Spencer saw this as an opportunity to get to know the man who he’s been ogling for more than a year.

“You look tired, do you want to stay for a coffee? I already have some brewing and I have lots of sugar and cream” The younger one offered. Aaron surprisingly took him up on that offer as well.

It had been a long case and he just got off the jet, coming straight to the ballet studio afterwards. So what if he found his son's instructor a bit attractive? coffee wouldn’t be so bad, he thought. It’s not like he would end up bending him over and- no. He mentally smacked himself for being so perverted towards the man in front of him. He was small, maybe 5’6 or 5’7 at most, had a slender frame as well as the most adorable smile and soft looking hair that he would love to reach out and touch. Aaron took a step towards the stack of plastic chairs and took one, placing it down on the ground. He took a seat while Spencer made his way towards the coffee pot.

“I take it black” Hotch told him and watched the ballerina as he smiled at him and poured the bitter liquid in the plain white mug. Hotch took the opportunity to admire the young body when Spencer was turned around. Hotch knew it was wrong, the boy was just so sexy without even trying. The thin black tights hugged his thighs just right and the little skirt he wore flared out around his small waist, accentuating the round of his ass. Hotch felt the front of his pants tightening, his chest tightened and he felt himself getting warm. Spencer turned back around forcing hotch to immediately struggle to tear his eyes away. Spencer noticed though. He saw the lustful glances and tent in his pants, it gave him an amazing opportunity. After Spencer handed Aaron the cup he looked up at him with the same lust filled eyes.

“Do you mind if I work on some of my stretches?” Spencer asked while internally smirking.

“No, go ahead” He took a slow sip from the cup and leaned back in the small, plastic chair.

Spencer went to the bar and lifted his leg up, he did it a few more times before huffing and looking over at the other presence in the room.

“I need a little bit of help, could you?” He blushed and looked down at his ballet shoes. Hotch couldn’t say no, he knew that Spencer would feel the bulge but he was hoping to play it off as just having a big dick, which technically wasn't a lie either. Aaron got up from the small plastic chair and stood behind Spencer, he lightly placed his hands on the younger man's bony hips and bit his lip gently. Spencer was perfect in every way. Spencer lifted his leg up once more but not without pushing his behind against Hotch's groin. Hotch struggled to keep in a groan but successfully was able to, this didn't stop the other man though. He continued to push up against him and made small groaning noises as he stretched despite not actually needing to make noise. The thing that finally broke hotch was when Spencer bent over and the thin tights truly lived up to their name. The tights were slightly see through in the lighting and position he was in, this caused hotch to groan and place a hand over his crotch through his dress pants, cupping it lightly in hopes he could conceal it even just a little bit. He couldn't. Spencer turned around at the noise and smiled cheekily.

“Something wrong Mr. Hotchner?” Spencer leaned against the wall and looked up at him.

“Nope, just keep doing what you were doing”

“Oh really? Because I think that I...” He trailed off while reaching out and placing his hand over Hotchs, feeling his erection go slightly stiffer at the contact. “...Am making you hard”

Hotch didn't know how to respond to that but he kept his straight and tall, intimidating posture to make sure Spencer knew he had no control over him.

“Am I making you hard sir?” Spencer asked innocently and looked up with big brown eyes. That was all it took for Hotch to grab Spencer's waist and push him into the wall further. Spencer giggled and tangled his fingers in the taller man's hair.

“You're such a little slut you know that?” Hotch chuckled darkly as Spencer nodded in response. Something in the older man's demeanor changed and he was no longer the stern father who made minimal small talk. He was now the Sexy, dominating, strong man who had his son's ballet teacher pressed against the studio wall and degrading him. They both loved it.

“Answer me” Hotch said harshly and used one hand to grab hold of Spencer's jaw, forcing him to meet his gaze.

“Y-Yes sir, i'm a little slut” He whimpered.

“Good girl” He smirked and Spencer swore that he melted at the nickname. Hotch looked down between their bodies and furrowed his brows, Spencer didn't have a visible erection and it confused him slightly. Surely if he wanted this he would be hard, and especially noticeable if he's in tights?

“Spencer, are you sure you want this?” He asked, concerned.

“I- yes why?” Spencer looked up at him confused.

“Well- I erm… You are not visibly hard so I wanna make sure you don't feel pressured.” Spencer blushed furiously in embarrassment and gulped.

“I'm just on the smaller side…” He whispered but it was loud enough for Hotch to catch. He groaned softly and reached down to Spencer's hips, flipping him to face towards the mirrored walls.

“Is that so baby?”

“Yes sir…” Spencer surprised himself when he felt his face get warmer than before because he was pretty sure it was almost impossible. Hotch placed his hand under Spencer's chin, forcing him to look at himself in the mirror. It was embarrassing how easily he fell apart. Aaron kissed and sucked and nipped at Spencer's pale neck, leaving behind dark marks that would definitely be difficult to cover up before his next class. Aaron brought his hands down to Spencer's ass and grabbed the thin fabric of tights and underwear before ripping a hole in the back of it, the tights were easily ripped up the front as well though leaving the man's small, pretty pink cock and hole on display for the other man.

“Oh, so cute and small, darling. Like a little clit” Spencer whined and leaned forward to place his forehead on the mirror but quickly corrected by Aaron who laid a harsh and loud, echoing slap to his bare behind.

“Don't hide, I want to have you watch me make you fall apart. I'm going to break you into nothing but a whimpering and whiny mess” Spencer just nodded, he was at a loss for words and had no idea how to reply. Hotch brought one hand to Spencer's mouth, Spencer gladly took the long and thick fingers into his mouth, sucking for a good amount of time before pulling off and looking into Hotch's eyes through the mirror.

“I-I have a small bottle of lube in my bag” He didn't have any shame at this point, all he wanted was to have Aarons cock filling his ass. Aaron went to the side and looked through the dance bag, smirking at the spare pair of clothes and thongs to reduce the panty lines when wearing tights. It wasn't long before he found the bottle and quickly went back to Spencer who eagerly pushed his ass out.

“Patience, you may be a slut but you can wait” he chastised and chuckled darkly before spitting on his hole before placing a generous amount of lube. Hotch added two fingers immediately and Spencer cried out at the burn he felt, it was a good burn though… It became a mix of pain and pleasure so it wasnt long before Spencer began fucking himself onto the older mans fingers. Soon enough he had four fingers fucking into him but it didnt last long because Hotch pulled them out and placed the tip of his cock at his entrance.

“Beg.”

“Sir please!” He cried, tears almost forming in his eyes from desperation. Hotch seemed to take pity on poor Spencer luckily. The tip of Hotch's cock was pushed into the desperate and greedy hole before slowly sinking in more until he bottomed out.

“Such a good hole for me aren't you? My little slut, little cockslut…” Hotch groaned and gripped Spencer's hips tightly.

“Yes sir, i'm your little cockslut!” He whimpered and threw his head back. A few slow thrusts were made, slowly building up in pace and roughness until Spencer was a whimpering and moaning mess beneath the older gentleman. Hotch reached forward and grabbed ahold of Spencer's little cocklet, rubbing at the tip and watching Spencer's facial reactions through the mirror.

“S-Sir im gonna-”

“No.” He whined and looked up at Hotch, clawing at the bar in front of him.

“Such a cute little cocklet huh? Do you like it when I rub it like a clit?”

“Yes sir, p-please i-i need to”

“Shh.. it's okay. Just a little bit longer okay? Hold on for me”

Another few minutes go by of Hotch jack hammering into Spencer before he looks into Spencer's eyes through the mirror and he gives him verbal confirmation to cum.

“Cum with me” is all it took for Spencer to let go and cum all over the mirror, clenching his hole around the hard cock inside of him to milk him as well. He felt hotch's cum fill him up to the brim and when he pulled out, the bit of remaining cum spilled out of him and down his thighs.

When both of them catch their breaths and steady themselves, Hotch grabs a thong from Spencer's bag and cleans up the cum falling down his thighs but leaves the cum inside of him.

“I’ll see you next class” Hotch smirked and slapped Spencer's ass before grabbing his cup of coffee, downing the rest of it and walking out the door.

#hotchreid #hotchreid smut #spencer reid #aaron hotchner #criminal minds smut #spencer reid smut #aaron hotchner smut #heid #hotchxreid

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coeurdastronaute · 4 years ago

Text

Essays In Existentialism: Nerd 13

Previously on Nerd

“One more time,” Lexa called out, walking backwards to the other end of the lane, her sneakers kicking up some dust as she moved and watched the playback on her phone.

“Your girlfriend is a little intense, eh?” Evan asked as he followed Clarke back to the start of their scene.

Clarke looked up and wiped a little sweat from her brow as she watched Lexa move with Luna, talking about something, watching her phone while Luna juggled a camera and a script that’d seen better days. The messy waves were tamed, tied up and hidden by a baseball hat from her sister’s university, well-tattered and sweat-lined. The sleeves on her shirt were rolled up, exposing a slight bit of bicep, her jeans were caked in dirt and mud.

“She’s hot though, right?”

“I’m not answering that.”

“I’ll allow you to answer it just this once.”

“In a weird way, yeah, I guess,” he shrugged. “Ow! What the fuck?”

“She’s super hot in a normal way,” Clarke informed him after socking his arm.

“I meant like, I never considered it. Like, weird in a way I hadn’t considered. I’d prefer not to think of her like that, but you made me.”

“Good, and you’ll never think of her like that ever again.”

“Let’s give it one more go, and this time, Evan, I want you to pause before you answer Clarke. I want her words to ring for a moment. Play it how you think your character would feel it. Just for fun.”

He nodded and Clarke smiled at how serious Lexa was, how intricately she thought about the scene. They’d been at it for three weeks and were nearly finished, toiling away after school as best they could, and Clarke found that she didn’t think she was the world’s greatest actress, but that she did enjoy seeing her girlfriend doing something she was insanely passionate about. There’s a bit of magic in seeing someone happy about something they enjoy. As silly as it might have seemed, Clarke let her imagination wonder to the idea of Lexa actually achieving her dream, of making things. She jumped twenty years, and Lexa was the exact same person, but different, but better, somehow. It was silly, but it helped.

“Notes for me, sir?” she ventured.

“You’re perfect. Keep being perfect.”

As silly as it was again, Clarke smiled proudly and ignored the eye roll Luna gave before setting up with the camera again.

In reality, it was about six more takes, two more requested by Luna, three requested by Evan, and once by Clarke. It was infectious to care and try to do better. But they were finally done with all else, and the end somehow felt so final. Though she’d been hesitant to try, now that they’d created something, Clarke felt connected to the entire thing.

“So when will I get to see the entire thing?” Clarke asked, carefully dropping a bag of equipment on Lexa’s bedroom floor.

“Oh, uh, maybe at the end of the summer? It’ll go through a ton of work with Luna and myself, and I’m not sure what we’re going to do… I will definitely show you though as soon as it is done.”

“I’d hope so.”

“Thank you for helping me with this,” Lexa offered as she ran her hand over the back of her neck. “I know you are really busy. SAT, work, school, pep squad.”

“And you’re not?”

“Well, yeah, but I chose this, and you were recruited,” she shrugged.

With a sigh, Lexa plopped onto her bed, tired and spent from the busy weekend.

“You can recruit me anytime,” Clarke promised.

In a move that was still somewhat new to Lexa, hips circled her own, and knees gripped her thighs, and that led to a lot of feelings in her body, especially in the below the belt part that she hadn’t particularly figured out in the practical sense. Theoretically she knew exactly what was happening.

Without saying anything else, Clarke removed her girlfriend’s ball cap and tossed it on the bed. Lexa held her hips, ran her hands up her thighs and squeezed there, careful not to move her eyes anywhere but Clarke’s face. But they closed on their own when hands ran along her temples, scratching the sweat and soreness away, melting her instantly.

There’d been a truce ever since the dance. There’d been a few make outs that went slightly past polite. There’d been a few time hands wandered lazily where they might not have been allowed, but didn’t care about no trespassing signs. There hadn’t been Clarke in her lap though, and Lexa knew this was different. She made it different when her hands slid around hips and toward Clarke’s ass. She squeezed and she thought she’d died.

By the time Clarke kissed her, Lexa realized she was on her back in her bed with the head cheerleader on top of her. When hips pushed against her, she realized she was going to stop. Hands went to her chest. Hands slid under her shirt. Hands slid under her bra and she pushed back against being pinned.

It all disappeared in a second, and confused at the loss of lips and contact, Lexa opened her eyes and searched. Clarke sat there, hands braced on her stomach until she lifted her own shirt and tossed it on the floor. Scrambling, Lexa lifted herself, tangling her arms in an attempt at solidarity in taking clothes off only to be aided by an amused girlfriend.

“Wow,” she whispered, taking her time to look over new skin before her. She kept her hands locked on Clarke’s hips despite wanting to move them. She let her eyes roam shamelessly. “You’re like… wow.”

“Is this okay?”

“Very okay.”

“Thank God,” Clarke nodded before leaning back down, cupping Lexa’s face, and kissing her again, fiercer this time, if it were possible.

Hips moved more this time. Breathing picked up more. Hands pulled, tugged, grasped tighter. They clawed at each other and at more, at what their bodies already knew how to do but their brains overthought and tempered. It was a battle of want and need and restraint, and in it, they both knew which was losing.

In a shaky attempt, Lexa somehow unhooked Clarke’s bra. And in an instant her girlfriend was topless on top of her, and now her lower half was absolutely made of lava. It was painfully molten.

“Oh… my…. Goodness,” she hummed.

Clarke pressed her hands harder against Lexa’s ribs and rotated her hips. Lexa slid her hands up Clarke’s chest and squeezed. She watched her hands moved and touch and feel. She was touching someone else’s nipples for the first time ever, which was a weird thing to be cognizant of, but something that she never imagined desiring. But she did. And she wanted to memorize it entirely. She earned a hum and she pushed her hips up, in an off-kilter response to Clarke’s hips.

“Hey Lex, you home, sweetheart?” a voice called out from down the hall.

The spell was broken. The frantic, hot buildup was drenched in freezing cold water. The skin on display was covered with shirts as quickly as possible and the contact of bodies was broken with as much space as humanely possible placed between them.

“Yeah, uh,” Lexa cleared her throat and tucked in her shirt for some reason as she stood, her legs wobbly and her head not much more sturdy. “Just got home.”

“Your mom is bringing home dinner. She got sandwiches from the deli.”

“Sounds good!”

“Want to work on your car?”

“Yeah, I’ll be down in a few minutes.”

“Sounds good, kiddo. I’m just going to go change.”

Her father’s voice faded as he moved toward his room. Lexa leaned against her door and looked back at Clarke in her room. The blonde just pushed her hair out of her face and tried to adjust her shirt, tugging her bra slightly from the quick reassembly of her parts. Her lips were puffy. Her cheeks were bright red. She was perfect, Lexa realized.

Lexa cleared her throat again and redid her pony tail.

“So that was--”

“Really good,” Clarke finished. “Maybe we should… it’s good your dad-- we should talk about this, right?”

“Um, yeah, I think.”

“Not right now though.”

“Of course, yeah,” Lexa nodded, unsure exactly what was going to be discussed and even worse when it would be. She needed more context clues because too much had just occurred, and she was a specifics type of girl.

“I should head home. I have to finish some physics homework and take a cold shower.”

“Right, yeah. It was hot out there today and I kept you out in the sun.”

“Okay, we definitely are going to have to have some conversations.”

“Am I in trouble?” Lexa asked, cocking her head as Clarke picked up her backpack and shouldered it, making her way to the door.

“Not at all. I just want to be able to talk about sex with you before we do it because I imagine you might need it, and to be honest I’m not sure how much longer I can survive how sexy you are.”

Sex. Clarke wanted sex. They had almost, Lexa imagined. And Clarke was talking about sex with her and wanted to talk about sex with her and wanted to have sex with her and talk about the having of sex with her and they were going to have sex. Having sex was an option that they were going to talk because they were going to have sex and they should talk about it. It was going to be a thing that was discussed between the two of them because sex was going to happen and it might have almost happened and they should talk about the sex that almost and might also in the future happen. Sex.

“I’m kidding,” Clarke assured Lexa, pressing her hand to the center of her chest and bringing her back from the place she just died and went to. “I can wait however long we need to, but I think we should talk about it so something like this doesn’t happen and we don’t have a clear line drawn or not drawn. Think about where your line is, I guess and then we can talk about it.”

“Okay.”

Clarke kissed Lexa’s cheek and then her jaw and then her neck and then her lips.

“Are you okay?”

“Mhm. Yes. Me okay. I’m okay. Always ok.”

“Did I melt your brain with the mention of sex?” Clarke smiled.

“Yeah, kind of.”

“No rush, I promise. Just like to be prepared.”

“Like a boy scout.”

“Don’t stress. I like you.”

“Mmm,” Lexa nodded and tried to make her eyes not be completely huge, tried to make her heart stop throbbing in her pants and ears, tried to make her brain not explode or melt.

“I’ll talk to you later. Have fun with your dad.”

“Mmm,” she hummed and nodded as Clarke moved past her toward the door. “See you tomorrow.”

In an instant, Clarke was gone, and Lexa looked down at her hands. They’d been on Clarke’s naked boobs. She looked at her hips. They’d been on Clarke’s thighs. She looked at her bed and how surprised she was that her body just did some of the things it did. She wasn’t sure what else it was capable of, but she decided she might need to do research.

XXXXXXXXXX

“I need to talk to you about two things.”

“Hey, I’m good, thanks for asking. Just cramming for some finals, but yeah I definitely have time to help you out.”

“Okay, good,” Lexa nodded to herself as she paced through the garage, twisting a wrench around as she moved, twirling it around her fingers. It all happened quite seriously as she surveyed the car as it was coming to life.

The house was empty, her parents out on a date. Luna was coming over shortly to work on some of their film, but Lexa had a few things she wanted to get done on her car. More than anything though, she needed to speak with her sister desperately regarding many things in her life.

“How have you been, Lex?”

“Pretty good.”

“Anything planned for the summer yet?”

“I have an internship with a film crew that’ll be in town for a few weeks. My history teacher’s old college roommate is first camera. Some movie of the week thing for the holidays.”

“Wow! Lex, that’s huge!”

“I guess. But I need to know about sex. Sex with another girl. You’re in college. Have you had sex with another girl?”

Anya choked on her sip of coffee as she stopped walking down the sidewalk. She nearly dropped part of her armload of books, but managed to get a grip at the last moment.

“Sorry to disappoint, but I haven’t.”

“I tried to ask Gus but he said he couldn’t talk to me about it, and I just need someone to tell me what to do because I’ve run out of online resources short of porn and to be honest I looked a few and I didn’t like it.”

“Lots of information to unpack in this…”

“What do I do or who do I talk to?”

“Just give me a second, okay?”

With a sign, Lexa sat the phone down on the edge of the car and went about the tough work of running some wires through the rear panel. If she was doing something with her hand, then she didn’t have to repeat the word sex nine hundred times per minute in her brain.

“You and Clarke are talking about having sex?”

“We’re talking about talking about it.”

“How long have you been dating?”

“Um since beginning of November. Almost six months.”

“Do you love her?”

“I don’t know. I mean…” Lexa paused her movements and furrowed. She hadn’t thought of it like that. It seemed almost insane to quantify her feelings into one word. She was excited to always see Clarke, and when she had a bad day, Clarke was the only person she really wanted to see, and when she did, the bad day just melted away. How was she supposed to figure out if it was love when she couldn’t compare it to anything else? She got butterflies still, when she saw her girlfriend. And Lexa felt this weird need to do things for Clarke, without being asked. She was helpful and attentive because the payoff of Clarke’s smile was worth even a few minutes of forethought. But she hadn’t considered that love, but maybe it was.

“I really don’t know. I like her a lot. I like how we are”

“That’s fair. I guess I should rephrase it. What makes you think you’re ready to have sex?”

“I really want to.”

“Okay, yeah, well everyone really wants to have sex, but what makes you think you’re ready? Can you confidently say where your boundaries are? Are you ready to have a much more intimate relationship with someone?”

“I was kind of just looking for more help in the mechanics of it.”

“That’s the easy part,” Anya smiled to herself as she took another sip of her coffee. The weather was changing, the spring breeze ruffled the trees so they loudly clamoured above as she moved with the crowd along the narrow sidewalk. “There’s a certain level of intimacy in having sex with someone, especially someone you really like. I’m not saying it’s good or bad, but it’s certainly different. Do you think you’re ready to do that?”

“I think so,” Lexa murmured after a moment of contemplation. She tapped a screwdriver against her thigh and stared at a single screw. “I really want to make her feel good and I know that sounds stupid, but I just… Sometimes it’s easier to want to kiss her than tell her exactly what I feel. I want to show her.”

“I can see how that would work. Just so long as you take a good bit of time and really consider it. And remember, even if you agree, you can change your mind at any time.”

“Ugh, not you too! Dad’s already given me a billion consent talks. I just want to go down on Clarke without making a fool of myself.”

Anya couldn’t help but laugh out loud at the outburst, but she somehow managed to hold her phone away from her mouth as she did. It took her a moment to recover.

“Just do what you like and listen to her. Ask her what she enjoys. Be receptive to how she sounds and moves. It’s really not that hard. Just give it your all.”

“This is all fine advice, but I still don’t know how to actually do it.”

“You’ll figure it out.”

“I don’t like leaving it up to chance.”

“You’ll be fine, I promise. You care for Clarke and I think she’ll be able to show you a thing or two.”

“What does that mean?” Lexa paused her movements and furrowed.

“You’ll see.”

“I really don’t like the sound of that.”

“You will, I promise.”

“Are you coming home this summer?”

“I might. So, sex with your girlfriend, huh?”

“Maybe. Is it weird that I just… I want everything to keep going how it has been? It’s been so easy and nice and I didn’t think dating Clarke would be so … so… easy?”

“That’s not weird at all. It sounds like you are having a good time.”

“I’m going to ask her to go to prom.”

“Wow,” Anya smiled to herself, doing her best to sound surprised by the news, as if it wasn’t customary to take once’s girlfriend to prom. “Are you going to do a big ask?”

“Nah, I don’t think that’s me,” Lexa shrugged, even though no one would see it. “And I don’t think it’s Clarke. She’s not like… she’s not like what I would have thought. She’s better.”

“You’ve got it bad.”

“Nah.”

It was nice to talk to her sister. It was nice to be put at ease, even if she just heard a bunch of stuff she already knew. Lexa wasn’t sure how it came to be that she was someone who talked to her sister every few days and actually filled her in on her life. She wasn’t sure how she enjoyed spending Saturday morning with her parents going on a hike or breakfast. She wasn’t sure how it came to be that the head cheerleader was soft and quiet and warm and made her feel like she was full of helium, but it was all happening, and Lexa felt herself open up to the world again without ever realizing she had been closed.

XXXXXXXXXX

For an entire seventy-two hours, Lexa let it all rattle around in her head, the words and the ideas and the thought of it all. All at once it felt like she didn’t know what came next while also incredibly knowing and that held her stuck. She hadn’t thought to ask for more, and she wasn’t sure how to have it. She knew that it was important, and she knew that was a different step than the ones she’d already taken.

Nothing seemed to change with Clarke though.

Lexa still held her girlfriend’s hand between classes, and they still hung out and texted and kissed and no one said anything despite Lexa taking her sister’s advice to really think about what it all meant.

She didn’t know what it meant. Not truly.

“That’s it. I quit. My brain is melting out of my ears.”

With an exaggerated flourish, the body on the bed flopped over and tossed a notebook onto the floor. Eyes rolled back before a tongue hung out and Lexa smiled from her spot at her desk. The music played softly from the speaker on the bookshelf. It was already dark outside as they worked on studying, but the lights reflected so that outside didn’t exist at all.

“Your brain isn’t melting. It’s just growing and growing and will soon explode.”

“I think I prefer the melting,” Clarke sighed.

Lexa smiled to herself because there was the head cheerleader laying in her bed. And Clarke was wearing her old soccer sweatshirt and she was tired from after work, but still stopped by before heading home just for a few hours of studying.

“Would you like to go to prom with me?”

“Me?”

“Yeah you,” Lexa decided, cocking her head slightly. The corpse in her room rolled over again and lifted her head. “With me.”

“Was it the melting brain thing that really sold you?”

“I just like how you look in my bed.”

“Your bed is very comfortable.”

“I thought about the sex thing and I don’t know if I’m ready right now, or by prom or whatever, but I want to just keep doing things slowly if that’s okay?”

Clarke sat up so she was kneeling on the bed. She’d already rolled the sleeves of the sweatshirt that hung a little long on her. There was a hole over the letter on the left part of her chest. Her hair was falling out of a messy bun, and her cheeks had their dimples in them. Lexa took a moment to remember it.

“That’s fine by me.”

“It is?”

“I like how fluid everything is with you. I just wanted you to be aware of what you were feeling and what your limits were.”

“I don’t know them right now, but I’ll know them as things happen, if that’s okay.”

“Very okay.”

“Do you want to go to prom with me?”

“Didn’t I already say yes?”

“No.”

“Well then, yes.”

“Cool,” Lexa grinned, holding her chin on her palm.

Clarke relaxed slightly and smiled back.

“Cool.”

216 notes · View notes

brokenbeskar · 3 years ago

Text

Repairs

Chapter Five of Memories Reforged (Din Djarin x F!Reader)

Word Count: 11.7k

Summary: You and the Mandalorian make an emergency landing on Utrost and need to find a way to pay for repairs

A/N: This one ended up a bit longer than I had originally intended, but I had a ton of fun writing it! Hopefully you all enjoy! <3

You and the Mandalorian hadn’t spoken another word to each other while in the confines of space. You’ve simmered down quite a bit since the other day. You’re still mad--of course you are! you had every reason to be. Only instead of a burning rage, it's subsided into a simple distaste for the man you have to share the confines of this ship with. You get the feeling he probably feels the same way.

The two of you weren’t avoiding each other by any means, neither of you were that petty, but the both of you definitely made a point not to linger around the other for too long. If he was in the cockpit, you would spend your time in the hull, and vice versa. You were purely co-existing with each other, silently passing by each other without a word. There was no direct malice by it, but there wasn’t any friendliness either. You were simply co-workers. Co-workers who didn’t like each other, but needed one another to get the job done.

You’ll admit, you’re a little embarrassed by how you acted the other day. Not that it was unjustified-- oh no, without a doubt, it was definitely justified.

Even still, you usually have a pretty good handle on your emotions. To completely blow up on him like that wasn’t something you would have expected from yourself. It's not what you're used to.

None of this was what you were used to, if you’re being honest.

Working a job with someone else--someone other than your husband. It feels strange. Everything has felt strange since he died. Nothing feels quite right anymore, and the shit show that took place on Coruscant? Just feels like another log thrown into the burning pile of things that have gone wrong for you.

You miss him.

Everyday you do, but especially when things go wrong--when things get hard. Especially now that you're stuck in the confines of this ship while you limp your way to Utrost. There's nothing to do other than wait.

You have the kid to keep you busy sometimes, but when he’s sleeping, or spending time with his metal clad guardian, you’re left with nothing but your wandering mind. Left with nothing to do but think of him. Letting your thoughts transport you to a simpler and happier time. When nothing else in the galaxy mattered so long as you had each other.

You fully immerse yourself in reliving the little things. The sound of his voice--both how it sounded running through the filter of his helmet, but how smooth and utterly rich it sounded without it. The way he sounded calling out for you, adoration lining every inch of his voice, like he was falling in love with your name for the first time everytime he said it. The way it would sound when he would first wake up, gravelly and warm. The way he would let out a soft hum as he pulled you tight against him--the warmth of his strong arms wrapping around you.

Maker, what you would give to be in his arms again. To be comfortably wrapped up in his embrace after all of this...he would make it feel like nothing bad had ever happened to begin with. What you would give to have him comfort you, tell you everything was going to work out, and tell you everything would be okay, just like he used to.

***

You’re still shaking as you run a sterilizing agent over his wounds. Your heart is still beating just as fast as it was, despite you being back in the safe confines of your ship. He’s watching over you silently as you slowly and tenderly clean the blood, dirt, and grime from his damaged skin. He winces slightly when you apply pressure, and you immediately halt your actions and shoot him a worried look, your heart pounding against your chest. The last thing you want to do is hurt him. You’ve done enough of that today…

“It’s okay,” He reassures you, bringing his free hand up to lightly cup your cheek, gently running his thumb along the high of your cheekbone, “I’m okay.” He offers you a warm smile, but it just makes your gut wrench.

“No thanks to me…,” You murmur, dropping your gaze back down to his injury, as you resume your work.

“You’re not the one who came at me with a vibroblade.” He lets out a chuckle, “Not that I would be opposed if you did, could be sexy.” He shrugs lightly. More jokes. It’s always jokes with him, but you don’t find it funny. No, this was serious to you.

When you don’t give any sort of response in return like usual, he knows something's off. Of course he had noticed you were shaken up, but he wrongly assumed it was lingering adrenaline from the incident. He reaches out and lightly catches the wrist of your working hand, halting you from continuing to work on his wounds.

“What’s wrong, Sen’ika?” He gives your wrist a gentle squeeze.

You tighten your grip on the sanitizing wipe in your hand, “This isn’t the time for jokes.” You spit out seriously, “You’re injured. You’re lucky it wasn’t worse!” You can’t even look at his face, you just glance over all his injuries. With each one you see, guilt pools in your chest, the sharp pain of it weighing heavy as you breathe. “This is my fault...you got hurt because of me…” You trail off as you bring your free hand up to lightly trail your fingers over the skin next to the sizable gash across his upper arm.

“Yeah, I got hurt, but it's not that bad...and it’s definitely not your fault, sweetheart.” He tugs at your wrist, bringing up to his face so he can trail tiny kisses along the side of it.

“But it is!” You yank your wrist back from his gentle grasp, “I messed up! I made a mistake! You had to come and save me, because I fucked it all up! Again! And this time--this time you got hurt! Maybe---maybe I’m just not cut out for this…” You trail off at the end defeatedly.

“Ner laar sennar…,” He breathes out sweetly as he reaches out for you, placing his hands firmly on the sides of your shoulders, “We all make mistakes. I knew the risk I was taking when I rushed in like that. You’re too hard on yourself. You’ve only just started this job a few months ago, and yet you’re already better than most in the guild. You’re a very impressive and capable bounty hunter.” He rubs his thumb on your shoulder softly while he speaks, and it immediately puts you at ease. He had a point, he only taught you to fire a blaster and wield a vibroblade not even a year ago. Skills you never would have even imagined yourself capable of doing before you met him.

“...Thanks,” You finally look back up to him and give him a weak smile after a beat of silence, “A Mandalorian taught me.”

“That’s my girl!” He beams at you brightly, then suddenly he's hauling you up from the ground where you're kneeling, and pulling you down against him from where he’s sitting in the pilot’s seat. The positioning is awkward and uncomfortable, so you shuffle your knees up onto the seat and around his hips the best you can. He loosens his grip on you only enough so you can wiggle into a more comfortable position in his grasp, wrapping your arms around him, before he's squeezing you again.

You let out a contentful sigh as you nuzzle into the side of his neck, his hand coming up to tangle in your hair while his other slowly runs along your back. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“Bounty hunting is not an easy or glamorous job. Sometimes things go wrong, sometimes mistakes happen, and sometimes we get hurt. It’s part of it.” He buries his face into your hair, and takes a deep breath before planting another kiss to your temple, “But there’s always going to be another job, another bounty, and our wounds will heal with time. All we can do is move forward and press on...but, mesh’la?” The hand he’s been gentling running down your back back stills for a moment, pressing flat against the middle of it, “As long as you’re here, by my side, in my arms…,” He gives you a firm squeeze, “ just know that it’s all going to be okay.”

And he was right. You know the risk that comes with the job. You still feel bad about what happened, but he was okay. You were okay. All you can do is move forward and press on. And with the way he was holding you against him so tight, his face pressed into your hair, yours in the side of his neck, the way his heart beat felt against your own, you had no doubt in your mind that everything was going to be just fine.

***

But instead you were alone. Sitting on the cold ground in the hull of a ship that wasn’t yours. The metal beneath you, a glaring reminder of the harsh reality you were living in instead of the fantasy you could lose yourself in forever. You hold your helmet--his helmet--tight to your chest, and you curl around it, wishing it could bring even a fraction of the same comfort that he always gave you.

You miss him.

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

Landing on Utrost couldn’t have come any quicker. The second you felt the ship make its clumsy landing in it’s assigned hangar, you practically jumped to your feet, rushing to find your go-bag. The thought of finally being off this ship--finally getting some fresh air--and maker, some real food. Ration packs were fine most of the time, but after only being able to eat them for weeks? You’re ready for something else.

You hear the Mandalorian descend the ladder as you click your helmet on and hit a button on the hull wall to lower the ramp. You look over in his direction, and see he has the baby tucked away in a bag on the side of his hip. You can’t help but smile to yourself with the way The child’s big eyes barely peek over the top and his big green ears stick out the sides. You almost want to ask if you can take him with you, treat him to some local street food you’re positive he would love. But with the way things have been between you and the powerful man carrying him, you don’t bother.

When the ramp finally lowers, you immediately make your stride down, trying to contain your excitement of finally being off the ship. When your feet hit the solid ground of the hangar beneath you, you can’t help but raise your arms above you and let out a much needed stretch. You already feel lightyears better than you did before, and you haven’t even stepped into the sun yet.

The hangar bay you got assigned to was way bigger than it needed to be considering your ship's size. It could have easily fit three more of them and still have some room to easily move about the round space. It was half enclosed, a large rounded metal covering half of the hanger and engulfing it in shade, the other half open to allow for landing. There were parts scattered about in what you assume to be an unorganized fashion. Platform lifts and transport carts are abandoned throughout the area. It looked like this place hadn’t been used in ages.

You barely notice when an exhausted looking mechanic slowly makes his way across the hangar as the Mandalorian descends the ramp behind you. He’s punching something into the holopad in his arm as he strolls over, his goggles pushed up onto his head, pulling his hair up into a wiry mess behind them. He feels so out of place. With a bay this size you would be expecting more mechanics, droids, anything. Instead it’s just one. Dragging his feet as he makes his way over to you. It’s only when he gets closer you realize how young he looks.

He looks up from his holopad with a heavy sigh when he sees the state of the ship. You turn to take a look yourself and---stars, that’s bad. This is the first time you’ve been able to actually see the damage. Large scorch marks plastered heavily across the entire length of it, along with huge tears in the metal. It was a disaster.

“Looks like you two got yourselves in quite the mess.” He drawls out as he steps closer to further inspect the ship. “Whatever you hit, it did some pretty serious damage. Surprised you made it here in one piece.” He continues absently as he punches some notes into his holopad.

“How soon can you have it repaired by?” The Mandalorian next to you questions, and the mechanic scoffs in response.

“If my droids were still up and running? I could have had her ready for you by tomorrow night. But since it's just me now, It’ll take me a few days.”

“How long is a few days?” The mechanic turns to stare him down, glaring into his visor. “A few days. And it will be a few days more if you decide to be a pain in the ass.” He quickly turns back to continue assessing the damage. You notice something, just barely--out of the corner of your eye, you have to turn slightly to get a better look, but you notice the Mandalorian’s fists tighten at his sides. His shoulders may even tense slightly, but you aren’t sure. It might just be your mind playing tricks on you.

Up until this point you truly thought he was unbothered by this whole thing. Like his ship getting damaged and the bounty getting away was no big deal, just another day. He’s always so stoic, so composed--like all of the time. And he almost never talks, so it’s not like he could give it away verbally. It’s only now you’re realizing, from just the slightest flex of his fists, that the illusion of his helmet--having never seen his face--almost had you believe he was completely imperturbable. Like...you knew he was irritated the day you left Coruscant, but on the days that followed it never actually occurred to you that he might be just as angry and pissed off as you were about the whole thing.

He was.

He was just much better at hiding it than you were.

“Alright. Looks like repairs are gonna cost ya forty thousand.” He doesn’t even flinch when he tells you the amount, like it's no big deal, tapping loudly once on the holopad to finalize the estimate.

You choke.

The Mandalorian whips around so fast you’re worried he’s going to give the baby whiplash.

“Forty thousand?!” You shout it louder than you mean to. You’re just in utter disbelief at the amount. He must have made a mistake--there's no way. That was way too much. That can’t be right at all.

“That's what I said.” The mechanic taps the side of his holopad impatiently.

“Repairs are cheaper on Coruscant.” The Mandalorian snaps out.

“Then feel free to fly back to Coruscant.”

“But I don’t understand, what exactly is costing that much?” You question anxiously. You clearly needed these repairs if you were to ever end up off this planet and back on the hunt, but where in the galaxy were you supposed to find that many credits?

“Lets see…” he starts scrolling through his holopad, listing off the repairs he’s taken note of for your estimate, “You’ve got a fuel leak, hyperdrive’s got some serious damage, gonna have to be replaced all together, right thruster damage, I assume your not running any higher than 40% efficiency, Got some busted power lines, and you’re gonna need a ton of rewiring, not to mention your reflector shields are damaged. Then we’ve got all the body damage to worry about.” He shakes his head to himself, “S’gonna be a lot of work and like I said, someone went and damaged all my droids so it’s just me now. Damn thugs…” He murmurs the last bit to himself quietly, but it piques your interest.

“Thugs?” He just looks at you with pure hesitation in his eyes, like he so desperately wants to tell you everything but there's something holding him back.

“Forty thousand for the repairs. Pay up or find someone else to repair your ship.” He repeats shortly. He goes to turn away, tucking his holopad into a holder on his side.

“These thugs the reason your prices are so high?”

He scoffs, “You really think I would be chasing away what little business I get with prices this high by choice?” He shakes his head with a sigh, “A group of spice runners moved in a couple months ago, been terrorizing the whole town since they got here. At first they were just using it as a way to transfer product, but then they got violent. They run the whole town now. You pay their prices, and do as they say, or you end up dead.”

You settle back on your heels. Straighten out your shoulders and stand tall, resting your hands on your belt and tilt your helmet in his direction, a clever, perfect little plan forming in your brain.

“How much would repairs be if--let's say...those spice runners weren’t a problem anymore?” You shrug your shoulders nonchalantly and you notice the Mandalorian turn his helmet in your direction. He clearly knows what you're getting at. At the same time the mechanic bursts into laughter, as if that's the funniest joke he's heard since the solstice.

“If you could find a way to take care of Rrollesh and his gang? On maker, I'll give you your repairs for free!” He laughs his whole way through it, clearly not taking your proposition seriously.

You on the other hand? Looks like you just landed yourself a job.

“Where can I find them?”

The mechanic’s laughter fades and he locks eyes with your visor in a questioning manner, only just now realizing you’re being serious. “I mean, you take a quick walk around town you’re sure to run into them at some point. They don’t like strangers. Most days they play sabacc at the cantina towards the end of town.”

“Of course they do.” You give the mechanic a firm grip on the shoulder, “You get started on those repairs, I’ll take care of the rest.” You give his shoulder a couple pats before turning towards the silent armored man next to you.

“I’m going to go check things out. You should take the kid to get some real food. He’s probably more sick of ration packs than I am.” You can’t help but let out a small sigh at the realization that getting yourself some good food might have to wait. Just your luck.

“Going alone?”

“I think I can handle it. Besides, I’m the one who took the job.” You shrug, already turning to make your leave.

“Let me know if you need backup”

“Sure thing tin can” you call back to him with a dismissive wave of your hand as you continue your way out of the hangar.

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

Every step to the cantina was torture. By the time you finally got there and settled into a booth you almost completely forgot why you were there. All you could think about was food.

Street vendors were tempting you at every corner, their sizzling goods reminding you exactly what you were missing.

Every wiff you would catch through your helmet made your headspin. Sweet freshly baked pastries, smoky grilled meats, not to mention all kinds of exotic fruits--half of which you’ve never seen before, but looked delicious all the same. It all just made your stomach cry out and your need for real--fresh--delicious food only grow exponentially with every step.

You settle further into your seat, propping a knee up on the edge of the table. Tapping a finger a couple of times on the top of it where your hand rests. You let out a light huff of air. Hopefully the kid was having a good time right now. You can imagine his little cheeks stuffed to the brim with whatever his metal clad guardian would give him. The way his little hands would probably be already reaching for more before he even finished chewing, that greedy little bug.

You’re beyond lost in your thoughts you don’t even notice the sudden shadow looming over you. It’s not until the violent BANG of a vibroblade being stabbed threateningly into the top of your table catches your attention and you realize you’re being crowded around. You look at the blade blankly, and slowly follow it up the strong arm of the stranger holding it.

You lock your visor to the face of one very sizable Trandoshan. A large and gnarly looking scar splitting across his entire sandy scaled face, clouding one of his eyes in its path.

“Mandalorian…” He hisses out, deep and guttural, as a sly smirk breaks out revealing large sharp teeth, “What brings you to my bar?”

You lean back in the booth, this must be that Rrollesh the mechanic was talking about. And if he wasn't, well you get the feeling he could definitely take you to him. You look slightly to your left, to take note of the various others crowding around you. Five of them, all boxing you into your booth, leaving you no escape. It's an interesting mix of smugglers to say the least. None look nearly as impressive as the clear leader in front of you, but you don’t doubt they would put up a good fight.

The scarred Trandoshan pulls his blade out from the table, pulling your attention back to him.

“I like your armor...Beskar goes for a lot these days.” He growls out lowly, pointing his blade in your direction.

“Always does.” You reply coolly, “Mandalorian steel is one of the most durable materials, and very rare. Nearly impossible to get your hands on.”

“Then you know why I want yours.” He inches his blade towards one of your pauldrons, close enough so he can press the tip of it against your metal, and it takes every fiber of your very being not to rip his damn arm off right then and there. His smirk grows wider and there's a dark chuckling from his goons next to you, that you choose to ignore. Keeping your visor locked to his eyes, trying to keep your relaxed composure, despite the obvious tension that's building.

“Mine’s in bad shape.” You shrug finally after a moment of silence, “But if you’re interested in Beskar I have a proposition that might interest you.”

“Do you seem like you’re in a position to be making deals right now?”

“You seem like a smart guy,” you lie, “And I happen to know someone with a full set of Beskar probably worth twice what mine is.” The offer comes out of your mouth before you even realize what you're doing, but you're hoping he takes the bait.

The Trandoshan hums dark and grovely in his throat before silently taking a seat in the booth opposite to you. “Keep going” He encourages. Bingo.

“I’m here on a job, I’m hunting a Mandalorian. He escaped from me on Coruscant, but had to make an emergency landing here after the damage I did to his ship. He’s dangerous. Heavily armed, and in a full suit of freshly forged Beskar. One of the most skilled fighters I’ve ever gone against.” You move to rest your arms on the back of the booth, trying your best to seem as relaxed as possible while you lie straight out of your ass. You’re not even sure what you’re doing yet, just kind of making shit up as you go.

“What exactly are you asking of me?” He leans forward in his seat squinting at you, still holding his blade.

“If you and your men help me catch my quarry, you can take his armor.”

“I thought beskar belonged to the Mandalorians? Wouldn’t that be going against your own kind?”

You shake your head dismissively, “I’m not a Mandalorian. I don’t care what happens to it so long as I get paid for my work.”

He gives you a disbelieving look with a tilt of his head.

“Stole it off a dead guy.” you say nonchalantly as you notion to your armor with both hands, without moving your arms from their place on the back of the booth.

He lets out a hearty laugh, “I like you” he says waving his blade back in your direction, “I’ll help you catch your Mandalorian.” he nods with a smile, “what's your plan?”

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

“Mandalorian, you there?”

“Need backup?” His voice crackles through the static of the comm

“Not exactly.”

“What does that mean?” He asks, suspicious of your ambiguous answer.

“I found Rrollesh. Well, he found me I guess, we struck a deal.”

“A deal?” “I told him if he helped me kill you he could have your armor” You confess bluntly.

There's a beat of silence, and you’re almost worried he’s going to hang up on you.

“You what?” He finally asks

“It’s not like it sounds.” You reassure him, but after you’re met with nothing but silence in return you continue, “We made a plan to ambush you tonight--”

“You’re not helping your case.” He cuts you off abruptly.

“Just listen! We made a plan to ambush you tonight, but what's going to happen instead is we’re going to ambush them. I’m going to turn against them and you’re going to help me take them out.” you sound more confident than you feel explaining your half-baked whim of a plan, but you’re hoping he’ll go along with it. Your only other real option if he decides not to go along with it is to show up guns blazing and hope for the best, which didn’t seem ideal.

“Don’t you think they’re planning the same thing?” He sounds dubious at best, but the fact he’s not outwardly declining gives you a spark of confidence.

“Oh, I know they are, the difference is they need me to help take you out. They probably plan to kill me after I help kill you. So if we beat them to it, we have nothing to worry about.” You shrug despite him not being able to see it.

“How many are there?”

“No clue. There were six at the cantina including Rrollesh himself, but he said he’s bringing more.”

“Where are you planning this ambush?”

“I told them I would lure you to the middle of town, they're going to hide and try to surround you once you get there. Box you in. The second they make the jump for you, that's when I’ll turn on them.”

“Should be easy enough.” His words are like honey in your ears, instant relief fills your entire body.

“My thoughts exactly. Start heading down in three hours, I’ll have to meet back up with Rrollesh and his men and I don’t want to be seen with you until then.” “Copy that.”

You’re about to turn off the comm and get ready to meet back with Rrollesh, but you hesitate. “Oh, before I forget!” You call out quickly before either of you can disconnect.

“What is it?”

“Try not to shoot me this time, tin can.” You joke, your smirk almost audible in your voice.

“Try to communicate with me before you jump out from some crates and then maybe we have a deal. No promises though.” You hear his commlink click off the line. You know he was joking back, but something about his wording makes you freeze up. You sit there, alone with the static of your open comm ringing in your ear with the sudden realization. You keep replaying what he just said over and over in your head…

“Try to communicate with me before you jump out from some crates and then maybe we have a deal.”

“Try to communicate with me…”

“Try to communicate…”

Somehow, it’s only now that it hits you. This whole time you were blaming everything about what happened on Coruscant on the Mandalorian. This whole time, everything went wrong because of the things he did. Because he was an idiot, because he didn’t know any better. He kept getting in your way because he just couldn’t help but be obnoxious.

But that wasn’t the case at all.

You kept getting in each other’s way because neither of you had bothered to communicate. You mistakenly assumed he was the one to speak to the jeweler because you never bothered to ask him. Your bounty escaped through the window because you didn’t tell him what was going on until she already started to escape. You got shot because you didn’t bother to tell him your plan to flank her, and just jumped out in front of his shot.

What happened on Coruscant was just as much your fault as it was his. And not because you weren’t good enough, or because he was stupid and didn’t know what he was doing, but because the two of you were bad at communicating with each other. You were too busy working against him instead of with him.

Maker, you were a fool.

All those insults you slung at him should have also been said to yourself. Now you’re really embarrassed. The realization of this should have come to you way sooner. Were you really so prideful you hadn’t noticed? So cocky in your own abilities, you were blind to your faults?

No, that's not it at all. In fact, you realize, it’s probably the exact opposite. You struggled immensely every step of the way on that job. You felt so inadequate, so mediocre, so second-rate. In the height of your self consciousness you lashed out at him. You were blinded not by your pride, but by your shame. Your fear that you weren’t good enough, and he would be able to see that, that anyone would be able to see that.

You feel incredibly guilty now. Down right bad. A sinking in the pit of your belly that almost makes you nauseous. You definitely owe him an apology. Whether or not he wants one, you owe it to him, even if only to clear your own conscience.

For now though, you’ve got a job to finish. And you’re going to make sure you do a damn good job finishing it.

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

“Ah! You made it!” Rrollesh calls out to you as you stroll out into the open area of the town where you agreed to meet, “I was starting to suspect you wouldn’t show.” His deep and guttural voice rumbles out in a dark tone as you approach him.

You glance around him. Only three others are standing about. You tilt your visor at the large scaled man in front of you questioningly, “These are the only men you brought with you? I might as well be taking the Mandalorian on myself.” You scoff

“Oh no, not at all. The others are already stationed and waiting. Don’t you worry.” The threatening tone of his reassurance, followed by the sickly, toothy smile he shoots you, definitely confirms the fact that he is planning on killing you. You pretend not to notice.

“Good. Since these are your fighters, and this is your town, where do you want me?” You hope by giving him the illusion of control he’s less likely to suspect anything coming from you.

Besides,

You know damn well no matter where he puts you, you’ll end up on top either way.

“You and Tarsi are going to hole up there and wait for my signal.” He points up to the roof of a building to your right, “I’ll take the other two towards the front so we can close him off.” He points behind you where he intends on hiding out with the other two smugglers.

You nod in confirmation, and go to make your way to your assigned spot, one of the smugglers trailing close behind you. This Tarsi, you assume, is...unimpressive--to say the least. He’s small, too eager as he jogs next to you to keep up with your pace, and seems far too excited about the prospect of taking down a mandalorian.

And he won’t stop talking to you.

You don’t even know about what, you tuned him out almost immediately after he opened his mouth for the first time. You just know he wouldn’t stop making noise. The whole way to your assigned spot, he was blabbing away. The whole time he set up his long range rifle, and adjusted his scope, he was. Still. Talking.

At one point you notice while you’re settled down and looking out waiting for a signal--or any sign of the Mandalorian, that he’s been continuously scooting himself closer to you until there’s barely a gap between the two of you at all.

“I just really like that in a woman…,” Were the only words you suddenly catch from him, as you feel his hand on your thigh.

You shoot a threatening stare right into his eyes through your visor, which were already locked onto you. Only, he doesn’t get the hint.

“I’m sure you’re just as beautiful under all that armor as you are with it on…” He continues, and his thumb gently runs a small circle on your thigh where his hand rests.

How long exactly had he been hitting on you before you noticed? And how did he take your complete utter silence as interest?

“It’s okay, you don’t have to say anything, I’ll take good care of you.” The way his voice drops into a sultry tone, and he starts to slide his hand up higher on your thigh, it's too much. You immediately grab his wrist and forcefully rip it from your leg, nearly crushing it in your grip as you continue to stare daggers at him.

He winces at the force of it, but somehow, someway, he still doesn’t understand, “You like things rough I see, no problem. I’ll do whatever you want once this is all over. Does the helmet stay on or is there a chance I get to see your beautiful eyes?”

You practically throw his wrist away from you. The audacity of him, to think you would actually be interested in sleeping with him. You can’t take it anymore, slowly you reach your hands out and gingerly place them on either side of his face. “You want a kiss sweetheart? No problem, I’ll give you a taste of--” You cut him off with a rough twist, and the awfully delightful sound of his neck snapping, causing him to immediately go limp in your arms. You roughly toss his body away from you in disgust. Thank the maker that was finally over.

You shake your head lightly to yourself to regain your composure, and turn back just in time to see the familiar shine of the Mandalorian as he walks through the seemingly abandoned street. He pauses right in the middle of the road, in the middle of where everyone is hiding out.

There's a moment, a moment of absolute silence, as the armored man stands in the middle of the road unmoving.

You can practically taste the tension in the air. It’s like time stops. Every moment suspended in mid-air waiting for the drop.

You start to question whether or not you missed the signal, were they all waiting on you? You didn’t see or hear anything....kriff, what if it happened while you were snapping that guy's neck?

Clink. Clink. Clinkclinkclink clink

A metal canister bounces out across the street and rolls to a stop, drawing both the attention of you and the Mandalorian.

The can starts to hiss lightly, before the hiss erupts suddenly into a plume of fog that quickly begins to fill the street.

That's the signal.

Just as quickly as fog fills the street, consuming the Mandalorian in it’s haze, smugglers emerge and drop down from their various hiding spots, and with it their shouts and yells as they make a charge for their target.

Blaster fire lights up the fog filled street in smears of color, and you can hear how it ricochets off your accomplice’s beskar.

You quickly scramble to grab the long range rifle next to you, and switch the setting on your helmet’s hud so you can easily see the heat signatures through the fog. Quickly searching around with your scope you lock on one of the poor souls still emerging from their hiding place. You squeeze the trigger, and fire.

Your blaster bolt whistles through, lighting up the fog around it as it makes perfect contact with your target, sending them dropping limply to the floor.

You’re immediately locking onto another target, you fire, direct hit.

You can hear the clashing below you as the Mandalorian fights on the ground, and you take aim on another target. There's too much going on down there, you don’t feel like you can get a clear shot. Heat signatures are overlapping, and people are moving too quickly. You attempt to take a shot when you think you have an opening, but a blaster bolt gets ricocheted in your direction, causing you to jerk away just as you squeeze the trigger, and you miss.

You let out a frustrated growl and readjust your hold on the rifle, rolling your shoulder back to loosen up before you take aim. You scan through the fog, through the heat signatures, it’s easy to spot the Mandalorian like this. His beskar makes his heat signature entirely unique. He’s being surrounded by five or six men, all haphazardly lunging at him, trying to overwhelm him with their number alone.

Quickly you flick on your comm as you aim at one of the men circling behind him.

“Careful on your left.” You warn, just as you pull the trigger, sending your bolt whizzing right over his shoulder and making direct contact with the man behind him, sending him collapsing to the floor. You see the Mandalorian quickly look behind him as the body collapses, then shoots his glace directly to where your shot came from, directly at you.

He doesn’t have the chance to even think about flicking his comm on before another is making a charge at him. As much as you have a vantage point where you are, you have a need to be there on the floor with him. You’re not a bad shot, but it’s not your strongest skill, and you know you would be much more effective in close combat.

“I’m coming down, hang tight!” You flick your commlink back off and hop down to the ground beneath you. You keep low, sneaking the best you can through the fog. You’re not sure if anyone has noticed yet, that you’ve turned on them. Best to keep it that way as long as you can. Surely Rrollesh has noticed your absence, but then again, you haven't seen him either.

You draw your blade, and grip it tight in front of you as you make your way through the fog. You slow your pace and quiet your steps as you begin to come up behind someone, firing their blaster in the Mandalorian’s direction. It doesn’t matter how many times you’ve done this, adrenaline rushes through you everytime, your heart pounding as you slowly and carefully sneak up right behind them. It squeezes in your chest when you finally make the lunge for them, clamping a hand over their mouth as you drive your blade deep into them. You let out a deep breath as you rip your blade back out and let their body drop to the floor.

But there's no time for relief, you hear someone behind you and immediately whip around to see another one of Rrollesh’s men staring you down with their comrades body by your feet. You waste no time gauging their reaction, and quickly rush towards him. He readies up both of his vibroblades and lunges right back at you with pure ferociousness.

Your blades clash together violently, grinding against each other as sparks fly from the impact. You’re unrelenting in your offense, one powerful jab after another, as you continue to push him back, crowding him with your attacks. He struggles to block each one, not even getting a chance to make an attack on you. The pure force from each hit, forcing him to take several steps back.

He steps sideways when you make another lunge for him, causing you to swipe nothing but air. You whip around just in time to barely block his oncoming attack. Your blades lock together and you shove him back with as much force as you can muster, sending him stumbling backwards. You waste no time barreling forward, knocking him to the ground, and rushing to pin him down, plunging your blade deep in his chest.

“I should have known…,” You shoot your gaze up at the unmistakable sound of Rrollesh’s deep and guttural voice. He takes a heavy step towards you, his figure transforming from a blurry shadow to a clear image of the hulking Trandoshan before you. “Do you intend to make a fool of me?” He growls out threateningly.

You rip your blade out from the body beneath you without a word, keeping the gaze of your visor fixed on his. You’re trying to mask how heavy your breathing from the earlier fight, keeping yourself as still as possible as he towers over you.

“I want both those Mandalorians dead! Kill them both!” He roars through the fog, taking a step back, “I want both their helmets on my wall!” He lets out a dark and throaty laugh, watching you jump to your feet as two of his goons rush for you.

You clash blades with the first one, spinning around to elbow the second right in the face as he tries to grab you from behind. You’re barely able to bring up your vambrance in time to block the first one coming right back at you again full force. His blade runs hot grinding against your beskar, the sparks lighting up your visor in a brilliant display of color. You kick him as hard as you possibly can in the gut, sending him barreling to the ground, only for you to be grabbed roughly from behind, a blade to your throat.

You struggle to hold the blade back, and try to shake him loose. Roughly jostling left and right to no avail, before finally mustering the strength to haul him over your shoulder. You succeed, but it’s sloppy, the force of it throwing you to the ground next to him. Pure adrenaline pumps through your veins as you swipe at him with a shout of fury from where you are on the floor. He’s frantically crawling backwards away from you, as you continue to furiously swipe at him.

His partner suddenly lunges on top of you, and makes a jab at you at the same time you quickly roll over in his grasp. His blade plunges into your side, causing you to scream out in pain as you feel the blade shred through your flesh in the exposed portion just beneath where your chest plate ends. You still feel the burning heat of pain radiating from your gushing wound as he rips the blade back out of you.

You struggle in his grasp as he makes another jab for your neck. You’re barely able to roll just enough sideways that he hits the ground next to you. You violently thrash as he slams your pauldron back down into the duracrete beneath you, as you’re straining to reach for your blaster with your non-dominant hand, trying to ignore the searing pain from your fresh wound.

He lifts up, readying his blade to make the final blow, just as you manage to get a grip on your weapon.

Hastily you squeeze the trigger just as he comes down full force.

BAM

He falls limp on top of you, His blade still thrumming wildly as it falls from his grip. You don’t even take a second to breathe as you hear quickening footsteps from above you.

You swiftly wrestle your arm from underneath the dead body on top of you and tilt your helmet against the floor, just enough to aim at his partner barreling towards you, and fire.

His body skids to a halt next to you as it falls, and you’re finally able to take a breath. You rest your head back against the ground with a metallic thud as you try to steady your breathing, before hauling the body off of you and straining to get back to your feet with your hand clamped to your injured side, still clutching your blade.

How many more were there? You alone had already taken out eight men, who knows how many the Mandalorian had taken out. This was way more than you were expecting, and you haven’t even gotten to Rrollesh yet. You quickly look down at your hand holding your wound to assess the damage. There's blood, but not too much. Could be worse, you can still fight.

With your blaster drawn and ready, still in your non-dominant hand, you quickly make your way to the middle of the road where you can hear the clash of the Mandalorian fighting off another enemy.

You make it just in time to see the body drop to the floor, and join the various others scattered around the armored man’s feet. He’s been busy too apparently.

“Good to see you still standing, shiny.” You quip as you circle around to be back to back with him, scanning the fog for more enemies.

“Looks like you’re barely able to.” He teases back as the two of you stand ready for any further oncoming attacks.

“I’ve seen worse.” You shrug, “There can’t be much more of them left.”

You hear Rrollesh’s voice break through the fog, but you don’t see him.

“I’m sick of playing games.” He bellows out, “This ends now!” You hear the unmistakable clinking of another metal canister bounce onto the road, only this time, as soon as the hissing erupts into another cloud of fog, you’re blinded.

Your entire vision through the visor is filled with a bright blaring white. You quickly shield your eyes, but find the light isn’t letting up. It takes you a second to feel the hot air as it surrounds you. It wasn’t a flash bomb, no this was definitely a fog--a mist of some kind, but the heat of it was fucking up your visor.

“What the hell is that?!” You shout quickly struggling to swap the setting on your helmet as you try to recover from the blinding light of it.

“Some kind of thermal screen.” The Mandalorian grunts out, clearly struggling as much as you with the sudden blindness.

It’s abruptly clear to you now that the two of you were now at a disadvantage. Your thermal scanners now rendered absolutely useless. You were completely blind.

You and the Mandalorian continue your guard, back to back as you slowly circle around just waiting for the attack.

You hear him before you see him, one of Rrollesh’s goons shouting as he rushes the both of you. Your armored partner clashes with him first, cutting in front of you to block the man’s blade with his vambrace. At the same time, a blaster shot zips through the air and collides with your chest plate, forcing you to take a step back.

You fire back in the same direction it came blindly, simply hoping for the best. There was no way you could aim properly while blinded like this. You’re barely able to see a foot in front of you. Another slurry of blaster shots get sent your way, knocking against your chest plate and pauldron as the Mandalorian continues to push back against the blade wielder. You take another shot, focusing directly where the last one came from, and praying for a hit.

There's no way to know for sure until this is all over, but with the grunt you hear, and the clatter of something falling, you're almost positive it hits. While you’re focusing on that, another smuggler jumps out from the fog and onto the back of the Mandalorian, trying to hold him steady so the other can get a clear shot. You hear the struggle behind you and swiftly turn around to help.

The Mandalorian gives a couple quick elbow jabs to the man holding him in a lock, loosening his grip just enough he can rip him off. At the same time, you ready your blade and make a fierceful jab right into the side of the other man, causing him to double over and clutch his side in pain. Which leaves him wide open for you to deliver the finishing blow. His body hits the ground at the same time you hear the Mandalorian fire off two blaster shots, followed by the thud of another body. The deadly combination of you both made you feel unstoppable. Even with your injury, there was no doubt in your mind the two of you were walking away from this.

You resume your defensive position, back to back, standing ready for any further attacks.

But no one comes.

Silence fills the street again, revealing just how heavy your breathing is after all of this fighting and your injury. You feel sweaty under your helmet, your hair sticking to your face, while you focus on the empty fog in front of you.

A sudden bone chilling, angered roar rips through the fog.

“I’ll kill you!” Rrollesh roars out in pure fury, “I’ll kill you myself! Tear you limb from limb! Make you suffer! Beg for me to end it!” You can almost feel the vibration from his powerful growl as it echoes through the street surrounding you. It feels like it’s coming from all around you all at once, leaving you unable to pin his exact direction.

He continues to growl out angrily, animalistic huffs of pure, raw rage. You think he's circling the both of you. Like a predator stalking its prey. Waiting for his moment to strike. Or maybe, he was building himself up, letting the rage boil up inside of him, working himself up to the point of no return.

You notice something out of your peripheral, and you instinctively quickly move to dodge out of the way. Just in time for a hulking, mass of metal to come slicing through the fog and collide with the ground with an ear splitting clang.

Rrollesh roars out as he lifts the weapon again, swinging back at you full force. You’re just able to move back enough for it to just barely miss your chest plate by a hair's width. Too close for comfort. The weapon was brutal, the biggest vibroaxe you had ever seen. The sheer mass of it alone was enough to spark fear in the hearts of many, combined with its gnarled edges, it felt like a weapon of nightmares. The brute strength alone needed to wield it seemed only appropriate for the towering reptilian before you.

You keep moving back with every one of his powerful swings, dodging becomes more and more difficult with your wound seering in pain with every movement. The Mandalorian fires his blaster at Rrollesh, but despite his size, and the insanity of the weapon he's holding, Rrollesh spins, bringing the flat of the axe up to block the oncoming bolt. How was he so quick? It seems impossible.

With his attention now turned toward your partner, the hulking Trandoshan makes a charge towards the Mandalorian, seeming to block his oncoming blaster fire with ease. He makes several wide swings, the Mandalorian barely able to dodge himself despite the lack of injury on his part. With every swing Rrollesh lets out a bone chilling growl while he advances on the Mandalorian.

You attempt to intervene, rushing the absolute mammoth before you, and driving your blade deep in his vulnerable side, left exposed from his wide swings. He barely reacts, and you panic when you attempt to drive it out, only to find your blade is stuck within his tough flesh.

You quickly abandon your blade, and lurch back creating as much space between the two of you as you can. He slowly turns towards you, his scarred eye burning a hole through you, as he snarls, baring his incredible sharp teeth. You think he’s going to make another swing at you, try to bring you to the ground, but he surprises both you and the Mandalorian when he suddenly swings back around bringing his blade down full force on the chrome beskar.

There’s a terrifying display of color as sparks nearly blind you when the axe makes contact with the beskar. The pure force from the blow sends the Mandalorian flying backwards with a wrecked grunt. You know the power from it had to have hurt, and bad. Probably knocked all of the air from his lungs, and made his head spin. Perhaps he was even knocked unconscious.

And when he doesn’t get up from the ground, you know you’re right.

Rrollesh wastes no time advancing on him, his intention to finish the job is clear as he stomps over to the weak body of the armored man on the floor. You quickly move to stop him, firing your blaster as rapidly as you can haphazardly, even if only to serve as a distraction long enough for your partner to recover--and move. Quickly.

Rrollesh turns back to face you, and lets his nightmare of a weapon rest on the ground, dragging it behind him as he rapidly advances towards you. You’ve seen a lot in your time travelling through the galaxy, you’ve experienced the worst of the worst. Hardly anything phases you anymore.

But this?

Rrollesh, and his imposing figure barrelling towards you with such determination--such speed--pure rage apparent in his eyes--as you hauls that massive, hulking, terror of an axe behind him?

You feel fear.

Not adrenaline, not the rush of battle--

But for the first time in a long time, you feel pure, bone chilling terror pouring through your veins.

You don’t even have time to process the ice you feel creeping down your spine as you attempt to fire more rounds at him. Which of course, he manages to block with ease. Just when he gets within distance of you, he swings at you. You manage to dodge, but not quick enough, his swing clips your hand, sending your blaster skittering across the street, and a searing pain shooting through the entirety of your arm, sending you to your knees, clutching your hand in absolute agony.

You quickly shoot a glance behind the man towering over you. The Mandalorian was still on the floor, but he’s moving. Groaning as he tries to shakily pick himself up from the floor.

But you shouldn’t have done that.

Because it draws the attention of Rrollesh, who quickly abandons you when he’s reminded of his task to finish him off. Before you can even shout to warn your partner of the impending attack, Rrollesh is already hauling his massive axe into the air.

Without thinking--without even realizing it, you jump to your feet and activate your whipcord thrower, sending a line of fibercord wrapping around the powerful weapon in Rrollesh’s grasp. You struggle to keep your hold on it, the brute strength from it’s wielder causing your heels to drag lightly beneath you.

He glances at you over his shoulder with an irritated growl and yanks his axe to the side with such a force, it sends you flying forward, and skidding across the duracrete road beneath you. He swings in the opposite direction, dragging you with it as you try your best to keep your hold. You struggle to hold your vambrace steady long enough that you can hit the button.

But as soon as you do, an electric current is suddenly ripping down the length of your fibercord, lighting up around both you and Rrollesh as the bolts of electricity consume his hulking metal axe. He lets out a deafening roar of pain as he releases the weapon, sending it clattering to the ground. You quickly yank it away from him, pulling it far out of his reach.

In a blind fit of rage, Rrollesh goes to grab at the Mandalorian despite not having a weapon, needing some release for his boiling anger. But instead, he’s met with a burst of red hot flame from the mandalorians built in flame thrower.

Rrollesh stumbles back from the heat, bringing his arms up to shield his face. Leaving him completely distracted and totally exposed. This is your chance. Despite your throbbing pain, you muster up every ounce of your strength to shakily get to your feet, grab your blaster, and quickly come right up behind him. Readying your blaster to fire, once, twice, three times in the back of his scaled head.

He collapses to the floor with a powerful thud.

You still have your blaster up as you stand there, trying to steady your breathing. You let your arm drop limply to your side with a deep exhale. It was finally over. You look over to the Mandalorian still on the ground in front of you, his visor fixed to Rrollesh’s dead body as his chest heaves, breathing just as heavy as you.

You walk over to him, holstering your blaster and clutching your injured side. You hold your free arm out to him, which he takes, and you help haul him up from the floor.

“See? I told you it would be easy.” You give his shoulder a playful whack as you let out a light chuckle.

He just locks his visor to yours for a second, before dejectedly shaking his head at your antics.

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

“Well would you look at that? You actually made it out alive.” Is how the mechanic decides to welcome you back as you and the Mandalorian enter the hangar.

“How are the repairs coming?” You ask as you approach him.

“They’re done already. Got it done a bit quicker than I thought.” He nods, before looking you up and down, clearly noticing the way you're gripping your side, “You take care of Rrollesh?”

You fish out the credits you pocketed from Rrollesh’s body earlier, and toss them at the mechanic. He catches the hefty bag in pure disbelief.

“Think those belong to you.” You nod your helmet towards him. He pauses, staring at you for a moment, before quickly opening up the bag and nearly gasping at the amount of credits inside.

“Thank you.” He says finally, hooking the bag onto his belt. “I owe you--this whole town owes you. You’ve done us a huge favor.” You can feel the sincerity in his voice.

“That enough to cover our repairs?” You tease, tilting your helmet to the side.

“And then some.” He laughs nodding, “You’re lucky I didn’t charge you extra for having to watch that little womp rat.” He notions in the direction of the ship with a tilt of his head.

You let out a laugh despite the pain from your injury, “Thank you, I know first hand what a pain he can be.”

“He was good actually. Let him run around the hangar for a bit and he’s been sleeping peacefully ever since.” The mechanic crosses his arms in front of his chest, “Next time you find yourself in this sector, stop by. I’ll give you a tune up on me.”

The Mandalorian speaks up this time as he passes you to board the ship, “I’ll hold you to that.” And then he’s already up the ramp and you and the mechanic watch as he disappears into the hull.

“Until next time.” You give the mechanic a final nod before you head up the ramp yourself, “And hey, get yourself some new droids, you deserve it!” You exchange a wave before closing the ramp to the ship.

It doesn’t take long before you feel the ship rumble to life beneath you as you grab yourself a medkit. You situate yourself on a crate, and begin working at removing your armor as the ship takes off into the familiar confines of space.

By the time you finish applying a healthy dose of bacta, and are working to wrap a thick bandage around your middle, the Mandalorian has already made the jump into hyperspace, and is descending the ladder of the cockpit to join you in the hull.

He doesn’t acknowledge you at all as he makes his way to the alcove and opens the compartment to check on the kid. You barely make a glance at him, too busy tending to your own wounds as he scoops the sleeping child up into his arms.

“Shouldn’t wake him” You warn, not lifting your gaze from your work as you fasten your bandages. He practically ignores you, not saying anything as he gives Grogu a light stroke to his forehead, drawing out the smallest of coos from the sleepy bundle. The Mandalorian is careful as he moves to take a seat on a crate opposite from you, cradling the child in his arms.

It was amazing to you, the striking contrast of the powerful bounty hunter, and how soft he was for this child. He clearly cared deeply for the little thing, a vulnerability you never would have expected.

“How are your wounds?” The Mandalorian asks quietly, lifting his gaze from the child to address you.

“Nothing some bacta can’t fix. Like I said, I’ve seen worse.” You shrug as you readjust your undershirt.

“Good.” Is all he says in return, and fixes his gaze back on the child.

You watch the two of them, unabashedly. Nearly enjoying the silence after today. But then you remember the realization you had earlier before the fight.

“Thanks for helping me with the job.” You finally speak out, rolling your head back to release some of the tension in your neck, “couldn’t have done it without you.” You admit quietly.

“And uh…” You start, and he lifts his helmet again, tilting his visor slightly as he waits for you to finish, “I’m sorry.”

“For what?” His voice is quiet, clearly trying not to wake the child.

“For how I acted back on Coruscant.”

“It’s fine.” He dismisses you, before you even get the chance to elaborate. This clearly wasn’t bothering him as much as it was bothering you.

“It’s not fine.” You give him a stern look, “We accepted the job together, I should have been working with you not against you. And I definitely shouldn’t have put it all on you when things went south.” He looks back up to you, but doesn’t say anything. What could he even really say?

“That was a tough job for me...,” You continue after a long silence between the two of you , “And I let my own insecurities get the best of me. So I’m sorry. I-I havent…,” You hesitate, taking a moment to figure out how you want to word this, “...It’s been awhile since I’ve worked with anyone else so try to bear with me while I get back into the swing of things.”

The Mandalorian doesn’t say anything at first. He stands and gently puts the child back into his hammock in the alcove and shuts the door. You honestly don’t think he’s going to say anything, just leave your sincerity hanging in the air.

“I’m surprised by your insecurity.” He surprises you when he does speak. Not only because he spoke, but because that's definitely not at all the response you were expecting.

“What do you mean?” You ask, tilting your head at him confused by his odd response.

“You said you let your insecurities get the best of you, I'm surprised. What are you insecure about?” He settles back down in his previous spot on the crate opposite to you, his visor settling right on your gaze.

You hesitate, you're not sure you're ready to divulge such sensitive information to a man who, before today, you couldn’t stand to be around. Something in you decides you owe it to him, an explanation for your behavior, it's part of your apology.

“About being a good hunter.” You finally admit after far too long. And he just tilts his helmet at you, an unspoken urge for you to explain further.

“I only got into the business a few years ago.” You confess, “I’m constantly worried I’m not good enough for the job.”

“You had a commission price double what mine was for the same quarry, and you worry you’re not good enough?” He sounds genuinely curious, not like he’s judging at all, and honestly you're thankful for it.

“That's just it. I…” You trail off again and scan the floor as you search for your words. How much do you want to divulge here exactly? You take a deep breath before starting again, “My husband, he's the one who taught me everything I know. He’s the reason I got into the guild. I had never even been off the surface of my home planet before him.” You explain, avoiding eye contact with his visor, which is still locked on you intently as you speak, “And he-- now he was a good hunter. He already had a reputation, I was just sort of...in the shadow of it. I get the good commissions because of his reputation, because of his skill.” You sigh, and finally work up the courage to look back at his visor, “I guess I’m just worried I’m just simply riding his success instead of living up to it.”

You feel so awkward, talking about this. It feels strange, unnatural. Especially with not being able to see the face of the Mandalorian in front of you. You can’t gauge his reactions at all, and it only works to make you more nervous as you spill your feelings out to him.

“With how you fought today I don’t think you have anything to worry about.”

It’s such a small thing, his response. Just one sentence, one short simple sentence. But somehow, it struck you. It catches you off guard how much that one, simple sentence actually means to you. How could he have possibly known the perfect thing to say to you, when you didn’t even know it yourself? It was somehow perfectly reassuring without being belittling. There's so much to unpack, not only is he saying he thinks you fought well today, but that you fought well enough you were deserving of your status within the guild, even without your husband's presence.

And maybe--maybe it’s not actually that deep. Maybe you’re simply putting your own meaning into his words where there isn’t any meaning at all, but stars, regardless if that's the case or not, that sentence means everything to you right now.

You suddenly realize you’ve been staring at him dumbly in silence this whole time. You quickly try to compose yourself, clearing your throat and averting your gaze.

“Thank you.” You finally muster out, trying to play it cool. He just nods.

“Oh, before I forget.” He gets up to grab his go-bag, the one he was carrying the child in earlier, “Here, this is for you.” He rummages in the bag for a moment and pulls out some kind of wrapped paper bundle, handing it to you.

You take it from him hesitantly and utterly confused. You carefully begin to unwrap the paper, and gasp at the sight you reveal.

It’s food, real--honest to maker food.

Some kind of fried pastries, it definitely wasn’t fresh anymore, but stars, did it look delicious regardless.

“The kid liked those best” He says casually, like he didn’t just give you the most perfect gift you could have ever asked for.

But that's just it, you didn’t ask for this. How did he know how badly you had been craving this all kriffing day? This is the one thing you’ve been wanting more than anything else since you landed on Utrost, and he just handed it to you, wrapped up, as a gift. Because the kid liked it best?

Maybe he really had no idea, just bought it on a whim and it just happened to be the perfect gift. Just like he just happened to know the perfect thing to say to you about feeling insecure. You feel like you’re about to lose your mind. Who the hell was this guy?

“Thank you.” Is all you can manage once again. You feel like a fool struggling this much over some street food.

He simply nods at you before he’s taking his leave to the cockpit, leaving you alone once again in the hull of the ship to indulge in your food in peace.

The second you take a bite, pure bliss radiates to every inch of your body. You nearly groan at how absolutely fantastic it tastes, and it's no surprise to you that this was the kids favorite. Maker, you can only imagine how much better it would have tasted fresh. Maybe it’s because this was the first bite of something other than a ration pack you’ve had in weeks, but you swear, this was the best thing you had ever tasted in the galaxy.

Maybe partnering up with this Mandalorian wasn’t such a bad idea after all. **** Previous - MASTER - Next

#The mandalorian #din djarin #din djarin fanfiction #din djarin x reader #din x reader #din djarin x you #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #mando x reader #mando x you #reader insert #the mandalorian fanfiction #the mandalorian fanfic #fanfic

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retroellie · 4 years ago

Text

Dating Ellie Williams Headcannons

Summary: Headcannons for dating ellie

A/N: Have this because my last imagine was ass... I think i like writing headcannons way more than imagines lmao

Warning: TLOU2 spoilers, Mentions of death, PTSD, and NSFW/dirty talk

Word Count: 1.8k

- She fell in love with you when she first saw you

- She had just come to Jackson after the incident with the fireflies

- You being around the same age as her tommy asked you to show her around and tell her what’s what

- “Ellie this is Y/n, Y/n this is ellie.” Tommy introduced y’all

-Her heart stopped when she saw you, she couldn’t help the blush that was forming.

-She couldn’t stop looking at you when you were talking about the shops and sights around Jackson

- It seemed like you were liked around town, you were friendly to everyone and everyone knew who you were

- She will never forget the thing you said to her when you guys were in front of her new home

-”Tommy told me a lot about you and i just want you to know, you're safe now.”

-She felt for the first time she could let go, relax for a minute

-You helped her move into the garage, trying to make her as comfortable as she could be

- She wrote about you a lot in her journal, writing poems and drawing pictures of you

-You guys hung out a lot with Jesse and Dina but she would much rather hang out with you alone

-You two had become really good friends by the time you guys were 16, i mean Ellie opened up to you more than she did anyone

-Opening up meaning talking about her interests and some of her favorite childhood memories

-She was honestly too scared to tell you about her immunity and even more scared to tell you about her past, afraid that she was gonna scare you away

-You introduced her to cat and you definitely regretted it because cat liked her

-When they started dating cat was definitely the third wheel because you and Ellie were so closer

-You held Ellies hand when she got her tattoo, she couldn’t hide the blush than but blamed it on the pain

-You guys shared the same love for music, you showed her most of the music she listened to

-You would sleep over at her place a lot

-You guys would watch movies, talk about space and dance horribly to old music

-Y’all could never get bored of each other

-When you spent the night at her place you would sleep in her bed with her but it was as friends, Ellie didn’t want you sleep on the floor and you didn’t want to force her out of her own bed

-Ellie would always get so embarrassed when you slept over, she would always go into a gay panic

-By the time y’all were 18, she was head over heels for you

-You two were still best friends but her feelings got in the way so she was distant

-It got to the point where she didn’t want to be with anyone else, it was either you or no one

-She didn’t really have time for relationships so she didn’t really mind it

-She would play guitar for you when you came over, even attempting to teach you

-Everything she owned was yours and everything you owned was hers

-”God damn it, where is my Walkman”

-”Oh, I took it. Mine broke.”

-Ellie bashed on everyone you liked, Little did she know you liked her

- You liked the boy who worked at the bar? She had something to say about him

-You found out she liked you when you two were dancing one night

-Your arms were wrapped around her neck and hers around your waist, it was like a scene from a movie

-You both felt the tension, it made the butterflies in your stomach go crazy

-”I’m just a girl.... not a threat.”

-”Oh ellie... I think they should be terrified of you.”

-Next thing you know her lips were on yours

-The kiss felt like it went on forever until you pulled away, panting for air

-No words exchanged just a smirk and her pulling you out of the church

-She didn’t waste anytime, She’s been waiting for this moment

-Now that you guys were together, you guys were too powerful

-You guys spent a lot of time in her garage, i swear you basically lived there

-You guys could spend hours tangled up together or have heated make out sessions that lead to so much more

-Soft kisses and 80s movies

-endless sex i swear this woman is going to be the death of me

-I have said this before but this girl is always horny, i mean she still has raging hormones so she’s always on top of you

-She tries to highlight her tattoo when pleasuring you because she knows it drives you crazy

-She loves when you sit in her lap, it’s both cute and hella sexy to her

-Her kisses make you lightheaded, like you gotta sit down for a minute after she kisses you

-She finds your body fascinating, like it sounds cringey but she love everything about you body

-She likes to explore your body a lot, like what gets the best reaction out of you

-She’s kinda new to sex, she’s had a fling or two but nothing long term so now she really has to get this shit down

-She’s the top, i said what i said

-Joel has walked in on you two lots of times

-”Hey elli... OH FUCK. SORRY, I’m sorry.” He says while covering his eyes

-You both have to stop for a minute just to laugh your asses off

-Y’all were really loud too so like y’all got complaints a lot

-”Sorry, Y/n came over for a minute.” Ellie says busting through the door

-”Yeah i know, i heard y’all.” Joel joked

-She makes really bad cheesy pick up lines to you

-”You know I’m jealous of your heart, because it’s pumping in and out of you and I’m not.”

-”I’m literally gonna break up with you.’

-She never fails to make you laugh

-Her with her fucking puns mama, you can’t hide from her silly side

-Joel is a proud dad, he loves his lesbian daughter and her girlfriend

-Later on into the relationship ellie fully opens up to you

-You were tracing her tattoo one day, feeling the bumpiness of it

-”What happened?’

-She debated on telling you, Joel said not to tell anyone

-She gave in through, telling you about riley, her immunity, her and Joel's trip, even David

-She ended up crying, you’ve never seen her that broken down before

-You held her most the day, giving her all the kisses she needed

-When Joel died, you were basically always with her. Not wanting to leave her alone

-You were the one that found them. You shook ellie awake, Letting her sob into your shirt

-You brought her home, she could barely move. She was in so much shock and pain

-You cleaned her up and took days off of rounds just to lay in bed with her all day

-The nights were the worst

-She would wake up in tears, sweat drenched her body. She would bury her face into her chest, crying her eyes out

-”I saw him. All the blood..”

-”I know baby, it’s okay. I’m here.”

-you guys were still so in love with each other at 20, maybe even more if that was possible

-The trip to Seattle and trying to kill Abby really brought y’all even closer, seeing sides of each other you guys never had

-The fear and the defeat you both felt on that trip, it made ellie more in love with you that you stayed

-You two lived in a small farmhouse after the trip to Seattle, it was nice and quiet

-You lived like two cottagecore lesbians out in the middle of nowhere, it was a good change

-Ellie would love to paint you with flowers, she found that you and flowers together created a perfect masterpiece

-Ellie was kinda a city girl so you had to teach her a lot of stuff, you mostly read books about farms because you didn’t have a clue either

-You guys lived without pants, like no one was there to see y’all, no one to impress so like fuck it, who needs pants

-Ellie loved waking up to you in the kitchen, with messy hair and nothing but her t-shirt on.... Yes please

-To save water y’all would take baths together, it mostly always turned into bath sex

- Ellie was glued to your side, like wherever you went she was there with you

-She was very distracting, always kissing up your neck or moving your hips on hers

-I swear this woman was distracting without meaning to be

-When she was doing farm work and her tattoo would stand out, it made you want to jump on her every single time

-Sex with her back then was great but sex with her now was so much better

-She really matured a lot, she knew what she wanted and just how to do it

-Your pleasure came first to her, she loved the feeling of being able to pleasure you

-Don’t worry, you didn’t leave her out. You made sure she felt just as good as you

-She wasn’t shy so dirty talk was her thing

-”Just one more time baby, i wanna see you cum on my fingers one more time.” I’m so gross im sorry AHDS

-She would fuck you on literally everything in the house

-No one was near to hear y’all and y’all could do it anywhere and at anytime, it was fucking heaven for y’all

-Y’all were together a lot and although ellie loved it, she knew you liked your alone time

-She would go into her painting room and play guitar or draw, doing anything to keep her busy

- After a hour or two went by you would come in and sit on her lap, hinting that you were getting a bit lonely

-You were always there for her when she went through her attacks, telling her it was going to be okay and you were here with her

-”Y/N! I- I can’t.. can’t breath.”

-”Ellie baby, you're okay. just keep taking deep breaths for me, okay?”

-Seeing her like this broke your heart but you were nothing but patient with her, she was really thankful for that

-You never talked about joel or even riley, you knew those were sensitive topics so when she did talked about them you listened and allowed her to rant

-”You know, I think Riley would’ve really liked you.”

-”You think so?”

-”Yeah, she would’ve liked your weird taste in music.’

-Ellie dreamed about what it would've been like in a normal world

-She could see you two meeting at a movie theater, hitting it off and eventually getting married, Maybe adopting a kid or two

-She was so in love with you, no matter what you looked like or what your body type was. She loved you

!Credits to gif owner!

#the last of us #the last of us fanfiction #the last of us x reader #Ellie Williams #ellie williams x reader #tlou ellie

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yespolkadotkitty · 4 years ago

Note

So I read Elixir and I love how you write sex pollen and I was wondering if you could do one for our other federal agent, Marcus?

Jump Start

Warnings: smut. A lot of smut. Unbeta’d writing; soft Marcus.

Words: 3,500

Summary: What if Marcus only went to DC for a while? And what if he came back for you?

Marcus: Still game for tonight?

You: Are you kidding? Cho and Lisbon have bigged up that Aladdin’s Cave for months. I’ll be there.

Marcus: You sure this is what you want for your birthday?

You: Yes.

Marcus: Okay then… Bring a pillow because I’ll probably bore you to sleep with all the art stories.

When the elevator doors part to reveal Agent Marcus Pike, you’re standing by the door to the lock-up. A smile lights up his face when he sees you, and your heart bumps hard in your chest. He slides his hands in his pocket, a blush creeping up his neck.

“Happy birthday.”

“Thanks, Marcus.”

He ducks his head, a little shy. You know he isn’t always. You’d seen him in the interview room a few times last year, when your team and his had co-run a case. Watched his eyes go hard, his face stern. He’d slammed a file down on the desk inches from a suspect’s face and the surprisingly rough side to him had made you shiver.

Lisbon had sent you a knowing look and you’d ignored her.

She’d had her chance and she’d blown it, and frankly you didn’t want to know what she and Marcus had shared; how close they’d been.

Marcus had gone to DC after that. A year’s undercover work has helped him heal, you think. Get his head back in the game.

He came back for another co-op case, and thankfully, Lisbon and Jane had been away on honeymoon then.

You and Marcus had worked this one together, sometimes late into the night, sharing take-out and anecdotes from other old cases, and then, you’d started hanging out, a little.

He’s interesting. Funny. Friendly. Panty-melting gorgeous.

Heart-stoppingly gorgeous.

Cho dropped that it was your birthday at last week’s after-work drinks, and then Marcus had texted offering you a tour of the art lock up. You’d been rota’d off the day Cho and Lisbon got to see it, last year.

Patrick Jane hadn’t been allowed in. Marcus had muttered something about sticky fingers when you’d asked him about it.

“You ready?” He ducks his head to buss your cheek and you meet him halfway, breathing him in, minty gum, sandalwood, and the gourmet coffee he hides in his office. He shared it with you once and it’s like him, memorable, decadent, addictive.

“Ready.” You pull away, reluctantly, wanting him, but he’s never given you any overt hints that he sees you as anything more than a colleague.

He and Lisbon are cordial to each other when they meet, but for all you know, he’s still pining over her.

You daren’t ask; you don’t want to know the answer.

Marcus punches in a code to the first gate, then plucks the rings of keys from his pocket and opens the dinner door of the lock-up, a smile playing on his scruffy face. He grew the patchy beard during his time in DC and it really suits him, highlights his beautiful jaw and makes his soulful eyes a deeper brown.

This time on a Saturday, no one else is around.

“A private museum,” you breathe as you see all the paintings, sculptures and other art set carefully in frames or on desks or custom made plinths.

“Yeah, I always feel like Aladdin.” He scoffs at himself. “I say that every time. What a dork.”

You turn and grin at him. “I like it. You’re an art geek. It’s sexy.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them.

Marcus’ brow wings up. “That so?”

“Um, sure.” You duck your head, embarrassed. “So. Tell me some art stories, Special Agent Pike. What’s new here?”

He brightens, soulful chocolate eyes going wide for just a moment. “Well. There’s this equine sculpture. Maker’s mark is Italian but we seized it during a raid for paintings. Wasn’t expecting it.” He snaps on white gloves and offers you a pair, then gently turns over the statue to show you the swirling signature on the bottom. “We’re still not sure where the other two are.”

You trace a gloved finger over the horse’s detailed mane, wrought perfectly in cherrywood. “Other two?

“Sure. This is part of a set. You can tell here-” he points out a divot in the base that you wouldn’t even have noticed, and another on the opposite end. “And here. The two connecting statues are missing - other horses, I’d guess.”

“Wow.”

Marcus sets the horse down and meets your gaze. “You bored yet?”

“Nope! More!”

He chuckles indulgently. “Okay. Why don’t you choose.”

You wander around the various lock-up cages for a while, examining instruments, more statues, even a huge quilt that looks woven with gold.

After a few moments, a painting about your height catches your eye. It’s an orgy, but tastefully done, painted in shades of amber and gold, the bodies fluid, enchanting.

“I’ve never seen such a… soft depiction of a group bang,” you smile.

Marcus’s eyes crinkle at the corners. “That came in last week. Rumour has it, the artist was quite the lothario back in the 1800s. A steady stream of, ah, callers to his penthouse in Florence. The accounts of his sexual prowess are something else.”

“I bet.” You eye the curves of the women in the painting; she looks soft, welcoming, her eyes closed in ethereal bliss. “So, how’d you get this?”

“Allegedly, found in an attic. We went to the house to pick it up. The man who gave it to me - said they just moved in - seemed kinda high.” Marcus’ brow furrows. “Very mellow. Pretty sure he’d been smoking something. He was half-dressed.”

You crouch, examine the painting more closely. “And you didn’t… arrest him?”

Marcus shrugs. “Art’s our deal. I did note the address with a colleague in the DEA, so if it gets flagged again, they’ll investigate.”

Something about the painting keeps you enraptured. You spy a little notch in the frame. “Do you think something’s hidden in here?”

Marcus bends next to you to examine the area you point to. He’s been working today, so he still wears his suit, the red tie the little bit of flash he allows himself on the job. His scent weaves around you, the lick of coffee, the gasp of mint, and something uniquely Marcus.

“It looks like something…. Comes undone?”

You both lean in together, and you edge your gloved finger along the groove in the ornate gold-effect frame.

Marcus does the same from the other end. “Wow,” he breathes. “A hidden compartment?” Then his eyebrows shoot up as part of the frame depresses under his finger, clicking. He grins hugely. “Well, now I really do feel like Aladdin.”

“Don’t suppose you’ve got a little monkey wearing a fez around here, do you?” You tease.

“Maybe a magic carpet. I-”

He’s cut off when a hissing noise pops from the painting. You and Marcus both lean in to try and hear it more closely, and just when you get close, powder sprays from the frame, light gold in colour and smelling faintly musty.

You cough, reeling back, your hands over your face. “Gross.”

Marcus steps back too, wiping a gloved hand over his face and examining the golden-hued powder on the cotton fabric. “What the hell-”

You slowly sit down on the floor. “I feel… sort of dizzy. Hot.”

Marcus crosses to you, crouching in front of you, and if you didn’t feel so discombobulated, you would appreciate the closeness of him, the amber shot through his irises, the slight curl of his cowlick. “I’ll go get help. Maybe some water?”

You’re burning up. A slow dance starts in the pit of your belly, something that you think was always there, maybe, but intensified now Marcus is so close. “Please don’t go.”

His brow furrows in concern. “Of course.” He smoothes a gloved hand over your hair, and then you see it; the change in his eyes, the way they go dark and hot. “I… what the fuck is this stuff? I feel…”

You clutch at his forearms, feeling the play of lean muscle under his suit. “What if…. What if this was the reason that painter was such a, um, lothario?”

Marcus’ gaze has dropped to your mouth and at your words, he blinks. “What? Oh. Oh.”

“Yeah,” you say slowly. “Marcus, I…”

He stands up, backing away. “I can’t be near you. Not when I want… I can’t.”

You reach out to him. “What if you stayed?”

He gazes down at you, longing in those bottomless eyes, and now you can clearly see the outline of the powder’s effect on him. “I can’t. Can’t do that to you.”

A flash of hope pierces the haze descending on you. “You want to? Because of the.. Stuff,” you finish lamely.

An expression of half desire, half pain, sketches itself over Marcus’ features. “I’ve wanted to for a while. That night we worked late.” He’s half-panting now, the fingers of one hand curled around the wall of his side of the lock-up. “Wanted to take you over the desk. I - fuck- can’t do it.”

You make to move. “Marcus-”

“Not like this,” he groans, that voice of sin and sex dropping half an octave, California with a lick of the drawl of Texas. “Not… like this.”

“Don’t go!” You beg. Your insides are burning up for him. If he’d just touch you. Just for a moment.

Marcus is shaking his head, fumbling with the door on this section of the lock-up. You lunge for him but he pulls the door closed, locking you in and him out.

He turns the key, then tosses the ring across the room.

“I’m sorry. I can’t. Not like this. Goes against everything.”

“But I want you,” you say. You crawl over to the fencing separating you. “At least… touch my hand.”

You pull your gloves off, slide your fingers through the holes in the mesh.

Marcus takes his gloves off too, tangles his fingers with your the best he can. He sighs deeply. “I had this whole date thing planned. Dinner at an Italian that reminds me of a place I ate at in my gap year.”

“Marcus,” you whisper. “So you do really like me.”

He groans. “Sweetheart, I haven’t been able to think about anything but you since I got back from DC, and there you were, pretty as a picture, working late with me, sharing Chinese food. Making me laugh.”

You swallow, wanting him so badly it hurts. Every inch of you burns for him.

“I wanted to go slow,” he rasps out. “I know I jump in. Get overexcited. But with you.. I wanted to do it right. Fuck.” With his free hand he, almost unconsciously, palms himself through his suit pants, his eyes rolling back. “What the hell is this drug?”

You hungrily follow the path of his hand with your gaze. “Lothario, remember?”

“I remember.” Marcus groans, pressing the heel of his hand against his erection. He’s sitting awkwardly. “Bastard.”

“Marcus.” You squeeze his hand. “I want this. I want you. It’s lonely up on that white horse.”

He shakes his head, vehement. “It’s….not… not right.”

You press against the caging and just the pressure of the mesh on your breasts makes you moan. “So I can’t touch you, and you won’t touch me, but you also won’t leave me.” You watch him squeeze his eyes shut, look at the tent in his suit pants. “Touch yourself.”

His eyes pop open. “What?”

“If you won’t leave and you won’t… give in to whatever this is, although I want you more than I’ve wanted any man, ever…. Let me see you.”

A bead of sweat rolls down his forehead as he looks at you, big brown eyes considering. He’s weighing every option. Marcus is thoughtful, considered. Considerate. He always thinks two steps ahead, encompasses everyone in plans and strategies.

But he’s blindsided by this, and you can’t say it isn’t sexy as hell to see him unravel this way.

“Please,” you add, holding his gaze.

He squeezes your fingers and the air changes between you, and then he leans heavily against the mesh and you take the opportunity to stroke his hair, a little, and it’s so soft. Feels like silk, and you have to touch more of him, but maybe you’ll get to at least see more, so you will your breathing to calm, just a bit, as he fumbles one-handedly with his belt buckle and then slides the zipper of his suit pants down to reveal plain grey boxers, darkened in the centre by a damp patch, and your throat is so dry.

“Have you…” your heart bumps hard, the rush of seeing new parts of Marcus making you even dizzier. “Ever gotten off in this evidence locker before?”

“Can’t say I have.” Marcus’ gaze stays on your face, earnest. “I can go. I can just go.”

“Please. Please don’t go. Come in.”

“Can’t do that.” He closes his eyes; looks like he is silently praying for the power to resist you. His fingers curl into the parted edge of his suit pants.

“Let me see you?”

He sucks in a deep breath, then exhales shakily. “This is not how I planned to seduce you. Just so you know.”

Your pulse rabbits. “You seduce me every moment, Marcus. With every sweet text. Every time you smile at me. All your art stories. When you say my name. Your voice, oh God.”

Marcus’ hand trembles as he holds your gaze through the wire mesh of the lock-up, and he finally, finally parts the opening of the plain grey boxers and draws himself out, and you just drink him in with your eyes, the shape of him, the swollen tip, his length and girth, the curling hair at his base. It looks as silky as the hair on his head and you hear yourself groan needily.

“Marcus.”

He fists himself, his gaze hot on yours. “Not how I planned this date,” he repeats. “I feel like I’m on fire for you.” He rasps out your name and you watch his hand move, and suddenly it’s too much, the heat between your legs cannot be ignored, and you shove your skirt up and mirror Marcus on the floor.

His head jerks around. “Fuck,” he hisses.

“Never knew you had such a potty mouth,” you half-gasp, half-tease.

“For you, I’ll do whatever you want with my mouth.”

You groan at that as you circle your clit with a finger.

Marcus almost growls “Underwear off, I want to see.” His voice, that voice, is gentle-rough, and you think of the day you watched him in the interview room.

“Whatever you say, Agent Pike.”

“Christ.” He’s jacking off in earnest now, his gaze riveted to you as you pull off your underwear with one hand, letting it fall wherever. Your skirt is rucked up around your hips and the fact it’s Marcus watching you is a huge turn on, but honestly you’re not sure if you could have stopped, for anything.

Your combined pants fill the space. You’ve never been so wet. When you slide two fingers inside yourself the sound is obscene.

“It’s.. a wonder.. He ever got… any painting done,” Marcus grits out.

You laugh. “Now? You wanna talk about art now?”

He huffs. “Art is the reason we’re here. Like this.” Then he sucks in a breath and you look down at him, his balls drawn up tight, his cock wet with his own pre-come.

“Marcus Matthew Pike, I swear to God, if you don’t get in here right now, I will never ever speak to you again.”

He hesitates.

“I swear on Van Gogh’s ear,” you add, your internal muscles fluttering.

Marcus half-yanks up his pants, scrabbles for the key. The seconds feel like hours until he appears again, boxers and pants around his knees, shirt tails hanging, and he opens the mesh door and you yank him in and kiss him and you tumble to the floor together, and Marcus grabs both your wrists and pins them above you with one hand, his face dark and determined, and it makes your heart pound.

“Please,” you grate out. “Marcus. I need you.” You spread your legs and try to hook your feet over his calves, but he shakes his head.

“Not yet. Sweetheart, not yet.” He curls your fingers into the wire of the mesh. “Hold on. Don’t… don’t touch me. I wanna make it good for you, first.”

You hear yourself keen his name as he shucks off his clothes from the waist down, then slides down your body and puts that gorgeous mouth to work. Your favourite thing he did with his mouth until now was talking, but this-

Maybe he’s writing his name, maybe he’s writing a sonnet, but whatever it is, the way he curls his tongue is obscene, and you don’t know if it’s partly the drug, but when he puts two fingers inside you, you come so hard you almost black out. And then lust rears its head again and you grab for him, carding one hand through his hair and cupping him with the other, and he’s slick in your palm and the ridges and heat of his cock feel so good.

“Marcus.” You fist a hand in his hair, pull a little, and he groans and pants, and you take the opportunity to pump him in your fist until he swears under his breath.

"Condom. Oh fuck. Condom."

He hesitates, then drops a soft kiss on your lips - your first, you think, a bit giddy - and you taste yourself, and he licks into your mouth and whispers your name and it's pure, unadulterated bliss.

Then he extricates himself, rummages in his suit pants, and as soon as he has the foil square in his hand you grab for him, pulling him down on top of you.

"After this," you murmur, "you're gonna bend me over the desk." And you roll the condom down his dick and he lets out a long, slow breath and pushes inside you and it's everything.

Everything inside you quiets for a moment that stretches as he starts to move, caging you in with his braced forearms, and you look into his dark chocolate eyes and his heart is on his face, with Marcus it always is. It's your favourite thing about him.

He nibbles at your lips as you make love to eachother, and you hook your legs around his hips to stop him pulling out too much. You want him close, want to feel his skin under your hands. The buttons of his shirt rasp against your dress, and if you were more aware you might think it's ridiculous, him bringing you to orgasm with you both half dressed in the floor of the art squad lock-up, but you can't care. Not when his cock hits you right there, and then you're keening his name and he tumbles over the cliff edge with you, pressing hard in those final thrusts as your muscles milk him.

You curl around him. "Marcus."

He sighs, presses his forehead to yours. "Was that… are you okay?"

You chuckle lazily. "I've never been more okay."

He cuddles you close, nosing at your cheek, murmuring sweet nothings. "Christ, what is this stuff? I could go again."

At his words desire rears its head. "There must be a desk in here somewhere, right?"

And his eyes go hot.

And that's how you find yourself bent over a desk recovered from an abandoned shipping off, the edges intricately gilded. You cling to them as Marcus fucks you hard and fast, just the way he'd fantasised about, and it's so good that you sob his name over and over.

Afterwards he cuddles you so gently, stroking your hair as he whispers praises about how good you felt around him, how next time he's gonna give you a bed covered in rose petals.

You shake your head, kissing him deeply, helping him into his jacket. "You're all I want, Marcus. Any way I can have you."

A flush colours his cheeks as he cups your cheeks. "Dinner? Let me take you out to dinner."

"I'd rather have it in bed. Have you in bed."

His eyes go wide for a second. "The drug.."

"This isn't the drug and you know it." You loop your arms around his neck. "It just jump-started us. Never been so grateful to a horny nineteenth century painter."

Marcus laughs out loud, hugs you, then releases you to hold your hand, tug you towards the elevator. "You're the best thing that ever happened to me. You know that, right?"

Happiness unfurls slowly inside you. "I could stand to hear it again."

Tagging the Pedro pals! @soldade @beccaplaying @heatherbel @mourningbirds1 @alldatalost @songsformonkeys @agirllovespasta @nelba @chews-erotically @mrschiltoncat @gamingaquarius @alienprincesspoop @dornish-queen @lackofhonor @agentpike @jaime1110 @thegreenkid @pedropascallion @mrsparknuts @buckstaposition @winters-buck @oloreaa @mstgsmy @synystersilenceinblacknwhite @holographic-carmen @cryptkeepersoul @alwaysbethewest @poenariuniverse @starlight-starwrites @keeper0fthestars @alwaysbethewest @kindablackenedsuperhero @abuttoncalledsmalls @f0rever15elf

And @arch-venus25 did you wanna be tagged in Pedro stuff?

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toomanyfandoms02 · 4 years ago

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Date Day // Draco Malfoy x Reader

I give you a realistic Draco. I lowkey don't like writing him like this but I think this is just how Draco would be in relationships, realistically.

SEND IN HARRY POTTER REQUEST!! IF YOU NEED A LITTLE INSPO, FIND MY 100 DIALOGUE PROMPTS!!!

Summary - Its the last day of summer before going back to school and you both plan a date day. (They are going into their 6th year before everything went to complete shit ahhaha) Tiny bit steamy near the end.

Warnings - ^^ Little bit of steamy at the end, nothing big.

Word Count - 1.7k

Draco and I had the whole date planned out. We didn't want to waste the last day we had before we had to go to Hogwarts for our 6th year.

Draco planned the first half, which was just beginning, and I would be planning the last half of the day.

Something that I think many of our friends (and even our family) had misconstrued was that Draco wasn't romantic. His tough exterior and demeanor made him seem calloused and ridged. Thought I will not lie to you, he could run quite thin at times. But his mom had clearly raised him right, he knew how to treat a girl.

So here we were, sitting on a picnic blanket behind the Malfoy manner. Draco had brought all of my favorite things to snack on. Cauldron cakes, Treacle Tarts, and Sherbet Lemons. Along with a little bit of fire whiskey that he snuck from his parents, which were not home at the moment.

We filled our stomachs with sweets and got ourselves tipsy on fire whiskey. (Draco insisted our next activity would be more fun if we weren't completely coherent.)

"One, two, three." And we downed another shot, I chased it with some water and shook my head from the strong alchohol.

"I think if we drink anymore we will be more than tipsy." I laughed, putting the bottle back in the basket. "Onto whatever you have planned next, yeah?" I grabbed Dracos hand and watched a smile creep onto his face, squeezing it to get another reaction out of him. His smile grew wider as he looked into my eyes.

"What are you doing lovely?" He squeezed my hand back with the same grin. It was so nice to see him smile, he seemed much more glum this summer than usual.

"Nothing at all." And with that I stood, bringing him with me. We quietly entered the house, making sure his parents were truly not home still. He set the fire whiskey back in their cabinet with a clink and entered one of his fire places, a fistful of floo powder in one hand and the other outstretched to me. I took it, stuffing myself next to him and holding onto his torso. He shouted a place I had never heard of before and we were suddenly in a shop.

"You know of muggle fairs." It came out more as a statement than a question, so I just nodded. "Well they've started a magical one." He pushed the doors open to the shop, revealing a bustling area filled with happy kids and adults alike. I could feel the fire whiskey hitting me now, and I could tell Draco was right.

This will be more fun when you're tipsy.

We ran around for hours playing clearly rigged games and completely failing at them due to our state. I hadn't seen Draco so giggly since we were kids.

And I loved it.

He was much more lovey and loosened up when he had a little bit of alchohol. He didn't think so hard. He would come behind me and hug my shoulders, kiss my neck softly when we were waiting in line for something. And when I was lucky, he would kiss me hastily on the lips. These were things he would usually do in private, where no one could see how soft he actually was. But when he was careless, PDA was nearly a priority for him.

After playing loads of games and winning only one tiny stuffed bear, we were off to my part of the date.

Any time it was my turn to plan a date, I tried to make it like this. To bring out a part of him only I could see, so we were watching movies at my house.

Now, my house was by no means the size of Dracos, he was born into a far more fortunate household. But we were fortunate enough to have a movie room. A simple room with a big tv and long couch to lay on. Or in our case, cuddle on. Draco had told me in the past how warm I was, and how much he loved that about me because of the contrast of his cold body. I laid a blanket on the leather couch, bringing two pillows and another much larger blanket along with it to drape on top of us. He lay down on the couch, his long legs outstretched. He opened his arms to me with a smile, patting his chest. I started The Breakfast Club and came to lay on his chest and across his body lazily. He stroked his hand through my hair and kissed my head multiple times as I pulled the blanket up to my chin.

"You really are warm you know." He said, his arm snaking mindlessly up my shirt. He traced patterns on my tummy with his cold fingers.

"Yes, I can feel that." I giggled, taking his other hand and kissing the back of it. "Maybe you should wear warmer clothes." I craned my neck back with a smirk to look his in the eye. He rolled his playfully and kept on with his pattern making on my stomach.

"I'm just cold-blooded darling." He stated. We watched through the first movie and I changed it to another, climbing back onto Draco differently this time, considering I was tired. I laid on my stomach, legs tangled with his. Wrapping my arms around his neck softly and setting my head on his shoulder into the crook of his neck. A planted a kiss there just to tease him, knowing he likes it when I do that. I felt his chest raise a little faster after the kiss, so I planted another, innocently.

A small huff could be felt from his nose on my neck. He brought his hand up to scratch my back, knowing it would stop and distract me from whatever I was doing, and it always worked. I would never not love these days. Days where we could sit in comfortable silence and enjoy eachother.

The second movie had ended and I stood with a stretch. I had been sitting for far to long.

"Okay, theres one more thing but it doesn't really count as the date. Do you wanna see me try on some new outfits I got? I had to get a new uniform, my old one was becoming a bit small." Draco nodded eagerly at the statement, letting me drag him upstairs to my room.

I shut the door firmly and picked up the pile of clothes and spread them out a bit, it wasn't much.

Now if this had been us a year ago, I would have told Draco to turn around. But for obvious reasons, this would not be the first time he had seen me with minimal clothes on.

"Now don't get all worked up." I pointed at his accusingly and with a small playful glare. His hands shot up in defense and he sat in the chair in the corner of my room.

I removed my shirt and slipped on the new sweater I had bought. It was dark green with a big white stripe in the middle on the chest area. Inside the line it read Slytherin and it had a collar. It was also clearly too big for me.

"I was hoping you would wear it sometimes so I could wear it after and it would smell like you." I told Draco, taki0ng it off and handing it to him. Slipping on my new white button up and vest, I slipped off my jeans to put the skirt on. Draco averted his eyes, he told me this was out a respect, for I did not ask him to look at me. He had told me that a few months ago. I found it incredibly sexy how respectful he was, what can I say, I find respect amazing.

But immediately as I put it on something felt off. This seemed even *smaller* than the one I had before. Maybe I was wrong?

"Draco, is this skirt suppose to be this short?" His eyes scanned up my legs, eyes widening slightly until he reached my face. I could see a clear blush reach his cheeks. It was quite amusing seeing Draco blush because when he did, it was so obvious on the contrast of his pale skin.

"I-I don't think so." He replied, flustered to all hell.

"I think they gave me the wrong one, damnit." I laughed, trying to make the skirt go as far down as possible but miserably failing when it didnt go any further than right past my butt. I looked back over at Draco with a pouty look, just to see him with his eyes nearly closed and addams apple bobbing in this throat. "You okay there Malfoy?" I teased.

"You're making it awfully hard not to get worked up when you look so beautiful." He said barely above a whisper, not helping that his hands slightly muffled the words.

"Oh you like this?" He looked at me with a look as if to say *No shit Sherlock*. I then made the decision to walk over to him, placing myself on his lap lightly. I ran my hands through his hair slowly, starting at his forehead.

"Must you tease me like this woman?" He complained with a whine, a thing you also don't hear much from Draco, any kind of begging or whining.

So I kissed him, pulling his head closer to mine and deepening it immediately. He kissed back with force, we hadn't done anything like this in a while. His hands wandered my body until they rested next to my butt. He grabbed at it and began moving my hips against his, I caught on and began doing it myself. We had done that for two minutes before I heard the front door slam. I jumped from his lap, yelling hi to my parents.

I looked down at Draco to see a *problem*.

"I'm going to distract them and say you're in the bathroom. Go take care of that." I laughed, my hand covering my mouth so I wouldn't burst into tears giggling.

"Very funny Y/n." He replied sarcastically, walking himself to my bathroom.

This date day went even better than I anticipated.

#harry potter #draco malfoy #draco x reader #draco imagine #draco one shot #draco malfoy x reader #draco malfoy imagine #draco malfoy one shot

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matthewtkachuk · 4 years ago

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how to be a heartbreaker: rule two - rafe cameron

Rafe Cameron’s privileged upbringing has let him get away with far too much, for far too long. Between his tormenting of the pogues, running his mouth without consequence, and arrogant attitude, it’s time someone knocked him down a peg. Breaking his bones didn’t work, but maybe you can break his heart.

co-authored with my love, freya @rekrappeter

pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader, unrequited!JJ x reader

warnings: angst, starting a relationship under false pretences, drinking and drug use

word count: 5.2k (sorry not sorry there’s a lot of plot here my dudes)

a/n: here’s rule two, let us now what you think!! low key we finished writing this badboy this morning (freya’s evening lol)

“Okay, that seems relatively easy…” you hummed, your elbows rested on your knees as you held onto every word JJ spoke. An underlying unsureness hung over your voice, and judging the expressions on Kiara and Pope’s face, you knew you weren’t alone in thinking that this wouldn’t work. John B backed everything that JJ said up with an example, somethings made sense but the majority of what they brought up was lightyears away from real life. They were living in their own fantasy world.

“And that’s just rule one,” JJ announced, causing you to cover a groan with a fake cough, “It’s almost the most important rule, you have to make a good impression. You need to be seductive, sexy-”

Kie interrupted JJ, “What’s the most important rule?”

“Rule number five,” he smirked.

If you weren’t confused beforehand, you definitely were now. “Which is?”

“We’ll get to that one later, be patient.” You huffed at JJ’s dismissal.

Pope stood up from the couch, stretching his arms above his head. “Are you actually going to take part in this?” His eyes were focused on you, ignoring JJ’s arguments.

You shrugged your shoulders, feeling the heavy stare of your friends on you. “What do I have to lose?” JJ praised you for your answer, earning a glare from Pope but that didn’t shut him up. “Pope, it’ll be exciting. It’ll be something for us all to do together and focus on.”

“We’re not the ones that are going to have to be alone with Rafe Cameron,” your friend muttered, you gave him a soft smile, appreciating how caring he was towards you. Despite always being associated with JJ and being his best friend, you and Pope had a relationship like none of the other pogues. He wasn’t just one of your closest friends, you would classify him as a ‘brother from another mother’. He cared immensely about you, and you cared for him just as much. You both pushed each other to thrive and be the best possible version of you, he had your back through thick and thin.

He was also the only one that knew about your hidden feelings towards JJ. He picked up on them one night, when you were giggling at a stupid joke the blonde had said and how the carefree and outgoing version of you disappeared when you noticed JJ getting intimate with some random girl later on that night. But he promised to keep it a secret, and so he did, he constantly supported you and let you rant and rave about it whenever you needed to. He was a breath of fresh air.

“Rafe Cameron never did anything to me personally, he leaves me alone when y’all aren’t with me,” you said, leaning back on the couch.

“Can we stop calling him Rafe Cameron? We only know one Rafe,” Kie chuckled, running her fingers through her tangled dark hair.

“Can we move on please? It’s getting late,” JJ informed the group, everyone’s attention leaving you and turning to the tall boy.

“You’d make a great teacher, JJ,” you hummed, your heart jumping at the smirk he sent you.

“Rule number two: have fun, but be the first to run.”

Three days pass by since you spoke to Rafe at the boneyard and if it weren’t for JJ pestering you every chance he got about it, you wouldn’t have noticed how many days went by. But your best friend was adamant on putting this plan into motion quickly, you tried to argue with him that you didn’t want to come across as desperate but he wouldn’t listen. The ending events of that night were history; you woke up the next morning and JJ acted like nothing happened, treating you how he usually would.

There was no point in arguing with him or holding a grudge, it was something you were used to at this stage in your friendship. JJ Maybank never did know how to express his feelings properly, unless it was with his fist. When you fought, he would mutter a quick apology and move on from it, never dwelling on the aftermath his words or actions made you feel. You pushed those feelings to the back of your mind, putting a smile on your face and moving on. It’s what you were best at.

A quick knock on the changing room door interrupted your thoughts, rolling your eyes as JJ opened the door anyways, not even waiting for you to answer. “Please tell me what’s the point in knocking?” you snapped playfully, buttoning up your white blouse, ignoring the flushed feeling you felt when his eyes lingered on your exposed breast.

JJ shrugged, throwing his bowtie at you and leaning against the wall, he waited patiently for you to finish getting ready. He was dressed similarly to you; your work outfits clashing except instead of the black, tight skirt you were wearing, his legs were covered with crinkled slacks. You were the one that managed to get JJ a job at the island club, your boss was reluctant to hire a known thief but you pleaded and begged, promising to keep him in line. So far, JJ has behaved himself, only missing one or two shifts.

When you finished getting ready, ensuring that your makeup was touched up and your hair was neat, you picked JJ’s bowtie off the floor and gestured to him to come over to you. You lifted it over his head, ignoring the butterflies that swarmed your stomach when he stepped into your personal space and placed his hands on your hips. “Tell me why I took this extra shift,” you cried, trying to separate your mind from your body.

JJ’s blue eyes scanned your face and you avoided looking into them, your focus solely on your fingers trying the material around his neck. “Because we need the money, plus you love working shifts with me.” JJ grinned exposing his slightly crooked teeth.

You pucker your lips, pretending to be deep in thought, “You’re right, I do need the money.”

JJ swatted your hands away from him, turning to look in the floor length mirror in the female changing room. You couldn’t help but look at your figures next to one another, you suited each other. JJ’s eyes connected with yours through the mirror, “I also peeked at the guest list, we’ll be able to work on the plan tonight.”

“Rafe will be here?” you asked.

“Rafe and his goons, so if I’m missing for more than ten minutes, come look for me.” He winked, running his fingers through his blonde locks to try tame it to some extent.

“JJ,” you sighed, reaching for his arm but he took a step back, out of your reach.

“I’m kidding,” he chuckled, but the smile on his face didn’t reach his eyes, “I’ll be fine, I can handle myself.”

“But it’s always three on one, and it never works in your benefit.”

This time JJ did smile, his blue eyes twinkling and he stepped closer to you, placing his hands on either of your shoulders. “But we have a secret weapon this time around, they’re not going to see this coming, y/n.” JJ referring to you as his secret weapon sent an unwanted chill through your skin, making you look away from his intense eyes. “Come on, let’s get the party started.”

Precariously balancing four whiskey neat on a flimsy tray while also balancing on your unsteady feet strapped into four inch heels was not an easy feat. It was even more difficult when coupled with the harassment you received as a pogue in kook territory. The only thing that kept the polite smile on your face as you suffered through backhanded compliment after backhanded compliment was the knowledge that a sweet payday was waiting for you at the end of the shift. You hated the Island Club and every stupid, perfect, spoiled person in it, but you made more in one shift than you did your other two jobs combined.

The spoiled Island Club member you hated the most though, hands down, was Rafe Cameron. Despite never targeting you personally, you couldn’t forgive the numerous times your boys had suffered at the hands of Rafe and his cronies. Unfortunately, you also found him attractive, discreetly staring at the way his golf shirt accentuated the muscles in his arms, and the way his tight pants accentuated his ass, every time you passed by. Some baser instinct within you had you considering what it would be like to squeeze his ass, and the distracting, intrusive thought made you miss the step leading to the greens. Your heart fell into your throat as you felt yourself lose your balance, your other hand rising to attempt to steady the tray but it was hopeless as you started to tumble to the ground. As you braced for impact, the tray was lifted from your arms and a steadying hand on your waist kept you from eating dirt.

Your heart pounding in your chest, you looked up to thank your rescuer, the words dying on your lips before you could utter them as Rafe Cameron himself stood there staring back at you. For a moment you were lost in his blue orbs, every intrusive thought you had washing over you until his mouth opened and he spoke, “You alright there?”

Staring at him for a moment longer, you blinked twice and shook your head in confirmation, “Yeah, thanks for that.” You smoothed down the front of your shirt, Rafe’s eyes following the movement of your hands, before you reached for your tray again, “Sorry, duty calls.”

As you went to move past him, heart pounding in your throat, he called out, “Wait,”. You spun around to stare at him, confusion in your eyes. He scanned the crowd for a split second, his eyes landing on your figure again. “Do you maybe want to get out of here?”

Scoffing, you roll your eyes, “I’m working Rafe, I can’t just ‘get out of here’. I really need this job.”

Rafe closed the gap between your bodies, leaving just inches keeping you apart. He reached for the tray in your grasp, taking it and turning his back to you. “Hey, you,” he called to someone dressed in the exact same clothes as you, “Take this to table number…” He glanced over his shoulder at you, waiting for you to finish his sentence.

“Five,” you mumbled, shrugging your shoulders and shooting an apologetic smile to your colleague.

“Perfect, now you’re free,” Rafe smirked, dismissing the girl.

“No, Rafe, now I’m not free. I have other tables to serve.”

Rafe exhaled loudly, his chest heaving, “Look, y/n, I know people, I can keep you out of trouble.”

“Yeah, and how do you propose to do that?”

Rafe sent you a cheeky grin, spreading his arms out wide as if he was going to hug you but his thumbs turned inwards, pointing to themselves, “I’m a Cameron.”

Chewing on the inside of your cheek, you thought over his words. The Camerons did practically own the club, and the stupid outfit you were wearing was beginning to feel tight and uncomfortable. Not to mention, it was exactly the kind of opportunity that JJ had been hounding you to take in order to further the plan. Plus, the little voice in your head whispered, maybe taking off with Rafe would stir up some reaction from JJ, maybe the one you’ve been searching for.

Looking up at him, you shrugged with one shoulder and replied, “alright.”

“Alright?” He asked, a little shocked as he clearly expected to have to fight you a little harder. Truthfully, he wouldn’t have been able to convince you at all if it wasn’t for the plan. Despite your intrusive thoughts, and boy were they intrusive, you didn’t have a particular want or need to spend any time alone with the privileged kook.

“Alright,” you repeated, “What’s the plan?”

“Get out of that stupid waiter get up, and I’ll tell you,” he laughed, causing you to glare at him. He wasn’t wrong though, the outfit was stupid and you hated wearing it, but dresscode was dresscode. You quickly snuck back inside and changed back into your short little jean shorts and top, quickly running past JJ’s confused facial expression. You returned to Rafe, satisfied when you saw the way his eyes trailed your body taking in the change of clothes.

“Have you ever been to a driving range?” He smirked when you looked at him like he had suddenly grown a second head.

“Do I look like the type of person who goes to a driving range?” You asked drily, causing his smirk to widen. He grabbed your hand and all but dragged you to another part of the club, where an out of use driving range sat.

“Are we going to get in trouble for using this?” You asked nervously, all thoughts of Camerons and bets aside you did actually need this job.

“Don’t you trust me?” He asked, rolling his eyes when you gave him a look that screamed ‘hell no’, “Okay well, trust me this once, we’re fine.”

Your eyes land on the golf bag with his initials embroidered on the front and you look at him confusedly, “Did you plan this?”

“Did I plan on sneaking away to use the driving range? Yes. Did I plan on you joining me? No, never in my wildest dreams would I think that you would be here right now with me.” He admits.

Remembering the bet, you smile flirtatiously at him and remark, “So you have wild dreams about me?”

His split second hesitation before rolling his eyes and telling you off has you wondering what role you played when you starred in his dreams. Gulping, you turn back toward him and clear your throat, “So we’re here to what exactly? Hit balls around all day, real fun.” you state sarcastically.

“You can go back to your shitty bowtie and silver tray if you want,” he offered back sassily, causing you to bite your lip. JJ would be pissed if you let this opportunity go to waste. But little did you know, JJ was going to be pissed either way

“Alright, let’s hit some balls I guess,” you replied back half-heartedly and motioning to the golf bag, “I don’t even know what each of these clubs are for,”

“Watch and learn,” Rafe smirked, running his hands through his perfectly slicked back hair, allowing for some hairs to become loose. He reached for the largest club in the bag, ripping the glove off and stepping up to the box. He placed a ball on the standing tee, doing his rituals before swinging and belting the ball nearly two hundred yards.

“Am I supposed to be impressed?” You asked, a single eyebrow raised.

“Here, you give it a go then,” Rafe replied, handing you the driver. You gladly accepted, an aura of confidence washing over you as you recited exactly what he did, he placed the ball on the tee for you and stepped back, allowing you to prep.

You felt his stare on your ass as you lined up the club to take a swing, causing you to pause your motions and glare at him over your shoulder. “Stop staring at my ass, Cameron.”

“Caught you staring at mine first, babe.” He smirked, and you felt the colour drain from your face at the knowledge that you got caught.

Swallowing nervously, you quipped back, “Yeah well I was just wondering why you bought your pants a size too small, thought they were going to split at the seams.”

He threw his head back and laughed, genuinely laughed, the sound booming around you. You couldn’t help but join in, soft giggles mixing with the timbre of his voice. As his laughter faded, he stared at you intensely, calling your bluff, “that’s not why you were staring, and we both know it.”

Coughing slightly to hide your reaction, you turned back toward the little ball on the tee and took a swing, missing by a long shot. “Shit, that’s harder than it looks,” you admit, having wrongly assumed golf to be a simple game of hitting balls with sticks.

Rafe chuckles shaking his head at your poor stature, and you suddenly feel a presence behind you, jumping slightly as his hands rest on your forearms. “Trick is to keep your eyes on the ball, okay?” he hums into your ear, the sensation running down your spine. You nod, swallowing back the lump in your throat, eyes focusing on the ball. He places his arms on your wrist, bringing your arms up, “now keep your front arm straight, tilt your wrist, like this,” he gestures the club up, “and then just swing, keep that arm straight,” he reminds you.

You glance over your shoulder, your orbs connecting with his blue ones that were glistening under the afternoon sun, you offer a small smile and feel yourself getting lost in them, “eyes on the ball,” he reminded you, smirking.

“Is this just a way to get close to my ass?” you retaliate, sucking in your bottom lip to hide the smirk that wanted to erupt on your face.

“This is just me helping a shit golfer,” he replied, stepping back and out of your swinging range. “Try again,” he urged you. He watched you take another shot, cringing when you miss it again. “Keep your eyes on the ball, front arm straight,” he repeated.

“Okay, okay, I got this,” you mumbled mostly to yourself but Rafe nodded at you, hyping you up silently. You focused on the little white ball, following the steps that Rafe told you before swinging the club and successfully hitting the ball, you watched it bounce along the grass about fifty yards in front of you. “Yes!” You cheered, grinning at Rafe.

Rafe placed another ball on the tee, urging you to go again and you did, each swing getting better and each time the ball went further. “But how come it isn’t coming off the ground like yours?” You pouted, leaning on the club and looking at him.

“Come back to me when you’ve been playing golf for ten years,” he smirked, taking the driver off you and replaced it with a five iron. You watched him hit ball after ball, and you wouldn’t admit it but you were impressed, especially at his back muscles that flexed with every shot he took. You made small talk in between the shots, filling the silences which surprisingly weren’t awkward, you expected them to be uncomfortable and that you’d be pulling blood out of a stone to find something in common but the conversation flowed easily.

It was your turn to take a swing again, and you decided you weren’t going to walk away from the driving range without hitting it at least one hundred yards. You reached for the driver again, stepping up to the tee with a face of determination. “See you, you are going through the air this time,” you muttered to the ball, Rafe had to bite on his bottom lip to stop from tumbling over with laughter. You grasped the handle tight, swinging the club with all the strength you had in you and the sound of the ball hitting the face of the club echoed around the empty driving range.

You watched open-mouthed as the ball soared across the air, pass the fifty marker, pass the one hundred marker and landed midway, bouncing until it halted just by the two hundred yard marker. You gasped, dropping the club, and tossing yourself into Rafe’s arms in your excitement. He grunted softly, clearly not expecting it, stumbling back slightly as his hands gripped your hips. “I did it!” you cheered, “I fuckin’ did it!”

Rafe doesn’t protest with having you in his arms, he matches your excitement but he notices the thrill vanish from your eyes as you scramble out of his grasp, “sorry about that,” you mumble, hiding the embarrassment.

“Nah, don’t worry about it,” he mumbles back, and you think you see a flash of disappointment behind his blue eyes but it’s gone as quick as it arrived.

“Uhm, anyway,” you wrack your brain for something to say to ease the awkwardness that had come between you for the first time that afternoon, an image of the chalkboard that JJ brought into the chateau living room crosses your mind, making you remember rule number two, “I better actually head back,” you mumbled.

“So soon?” Rafe can’t stop the words from slipping past his lips, and he cringes inwardly at sounding so desperate wanting you to stay. He doesn’t even know where this sudden interest for you came from, of course he knew who you were and he had spoken to you during some events, but he never paid little mind to you until last week. When he and Kelce were joking about drunk one night, you came up in conversation.

Kelce spoke vulgarly about you, painting pictures in Rafe’s mind and it was like after that night, he saw you everywhere he went. He paid more attention to you, he resisted the urge to go and talk to you in the street, and when he caught you staring at him at the boneyard, he made the decision to approach you. It wasn’t like him to turn to a pogue of all people, but there was something about you that drew him in.

“I had fun today, but like I’m sure you should be getting back to the event, your dad’s probably looking for you,” you said, leaning against the railing that separates the tee boxes.

“Nah, as long as Sarah’s around, he doesn’t have a lot to do with me,” He pauses seeing your face fall the slightest bit, “Don’t look at me like that.”

“Like what?”

“I dunno, like that,” he shrugs, running a hand through his hair again.

“Okay, sorry” you reply defensively, not sure what his problem is, “I won’t look at you at all then.”

He laughs at that, a smirk gracing his face once again, “Sure, I’d like to see you try. You can’t help but look.”

You scoff, “Oh yeah, I just can’t help myself. Oh my god, Rafe Cameron you’re sooo hot,”

“Relax, babe, you don’t have to throw yourself at me,” He laughed.

“Shut up!” You gasp, pushing yourself off the railing, stalking over to him and smacking his hard chest.

“Wait,” he muttered, grasping at your wrist, stopping you from stepping away from him. His tongue runs across his bottom lip and you hated yourself for allowing your eyes to follow the pink tip. You looked up to his eyes, watching the smirk flicker across his face. The rule flashes through your mind again, and you know you should be running, but... something about the look in his eye as he leans in has you locked in place waiting for his mouth to meet yours. His hand comes up to cup your face, and you suck in a breath, holding it as his thumb gently brushes under your eye before he pulls away from you entirely. “Eyelash,” he mutters quietly and you feel your heart reactivate again.

“R-right,” you stutter, moving to step back from him. Maybe this was a bad idea agreeing with this stupid plan that JJ and John B claimed they put so much thought into it, maybe they underestimated the effect that Rafe would have on you. You most definitely did.

Something else was still bothering you, though. “I have to ask,” you took in a deep breath, suddenly nervous of what you were asking, especially considering the fact that you were just about to let Rafe Cameron kiss you, “Why take an interest in me now?”

“Why have you suddenly taken an interest in me?” Rafe countered, causing you to gulp. “Two weeks ago you wouldn’t take a second glance at me.”

Glancing up at Rafe, you plastered a cunning smile on your lips and shrugged your shoulder, “I asked you first.”

“We’re not in kindergarten, y/n, those rules don’t apply here.”

“Who said I wasn’t taking a second glance when you weren’t looking.”

“I knew you liked my ass,”

You roll your eyes, “Well it’s not your humble personality. Now answer my question.”

“Thought it would piss Maybank off,” he shrugs nonchalantly, but you can tell he’s trying to appear that way. Besides, JJ isn’t even here right now and you tell him so. He just shrugs again.

“What don’t you want to tell me?” You asked, hoping you weren’t projecting your own nerves.

Rafe sucked in a deep breath, running his hand over his face as if he was trying to make you forget about everything, but when your eyes gave him a pointed look, he let all walls crash around him. “Honestly, y/n, I don’t know why. I-I just see you on the beach, you’re always laughing, always smiling, nothing ever seems to bother you and it’s what I need. I need someone to make me feel happy again, make me feel alive.”

You listened intently to his words, holding onto every gasp of breath he realised, the aching in your heart making your palms sweat. “A-and that person is me?” your voice was merely a whisper, your mouth gaping open at the honesty in Rafe Cameron’s voice.

“I don’t know if it is, but what I do know is that I had a good time today, and wouldn’t be opposed to doing it again,”

Your heart aches in your chest for someone you once considered an enemy. He wasn’t a friend now, but something had changed in the dynamic somewhere between him saving you from an embarrassing fall and showing you the right way to swing a golf club. You couldn’t help but think to yourself that Rafe Cameron might not actually be that bad, and you might have actually enjoyed yourself this afternoon. Against all odds, spending the afternoon ditching not only your shift and JJ in order to ‘hit balls around’ as you so eloquently put it earlier had been a lot more fun than you gave Rafe credit for.

Your nose scrunches up as you consider your thoughts, what is wrong with you? He is the enemy. One afternoon where he’s not being a complete dick and you forget the bruised and battered state of your best friends only a few days ago? The vulgar words that dripped so easily from his mouth like venom, where he had treated you like some possession to be won, all for the sake of getting a rise out of JJ?

Biting your lip and swallowing, you tell him briefly, “I have to go,” before fleeing back to the club. You hear him calling out to you from behind, but you keep your head down and make the trip back, trying to slip into the Club undetected.

“And where have you been?” JJ is standing on the other side of the door you’ve just successfully snuck through. You gasp, hand flying up to cover your now fast beating heart.

“Jesus, J. You scared the shit out of me,” you harshly whisper, “I was with Rafe working on your big plan.”

“You could have warned me, I had to cover for you!” JJ snapped. “Rafe said he would handle it,” you tell him.

Rolling his eyes and throwing his hands up in the air in exasperation, he turns on you, “Oh Rafe said?”

“Yes, Rafe said,” you repeat, “What’s crawled up your ass, I’m working on your stupid plan.”

You couldn’t help but feel angry towards your best friend, and you weren’t sure if it was because he was getting annoyed with you or if it was what Rafe had disclosed to you previously, but there was definitely an underlying feeling of frustration.

“What’s crawled up my ass is you left me hanging, we’re meant to be in this together.”

“No, JJ, I’m the one doing it all. You came up with some rules, I’m the one that’s putting my feelings on the line,” you snapped, watching his face contort to confusion.

“Your feelings? What feelings?” He’s taken aback by your words, head jutting as if you had just slapped him across the face.

“You know what, it doesn’t even matter. I’ll keep playing this stupid game for you, but don’t come and attack me just because you had to wash a few extra dishes.” Frustration seeps from your voice, unsure of why exactly he’s coming at you sideways. This was his plan, and you’re just doing your part to make it happen. At least, that’s what you told yourself this afternoon with Rafe had been for.

“I-I wasn’t attacking you, y/n, I was worried about you,” his voice softened, you couldn’t help but roll your eyes at the way his bottom lip jutted out, he knew you had a weakness for his puppy dog face. But with the simmering of frustration and anger growing within you, you wouldn’t back down right now.

“Well it didn’t feel like that.” You tell him harshly, hoping you’re properly conveying the swirling mix of negative emotions you’re currently experiencing.

Truthfully, JJ isn’t mad about washing a few extra dishes. He batted his eyelashes at your coworker who was more than happy to take on his dishwashing duties. He was mad that you weren’t keeping him in the loop, the two of you told each other everything. Well, everything except your feelings for him. He knew you found him attractive, and he honestly did love you with his whole heart. It just probably wasn’t the way you really wanted him to. JJ was mad because the girl he thought he had on lock, the one that would always be there waiting for him, just told him that her feelings were on the line for a plan to take down his most hated adversary.

JJ sighed, pushing away all his bravado and looking intently at you, “I’m sorry I made you feel that way, I’m sorry I make you feel a lot of things, but please just keep me in the loop, I don’t want you getting hurt.”

“JJ, I feel like we’re going around in circles at this point, and if I’m being honest, the only person hurting me right now is you,” you ignored the painful look on JJ’s face and continue, “Every evening you have to apologise for something, whether it’s something you say or something you do, we argue, we make up and then it happens again-”

“It’s not every evening,” you groan at his interruption, throwing your hands in the air.

“If you’re not ready to have a serious conversation, I’m not ready to continue speaking with you.” You tell him harshly and push past him, ignoring his weak attempts to get you to stop.

“Wait, you’re still coming over to John B’s tonight, right?” he asks, and you turn and glare at him over your shoulder.

Maybe Pope was right, this was a bad, bad idea and you had no idea what you were getting yourself into.

Tag list:

htbah taglist (link to add yourself to the google form on the series masterlist!):

@solllaris @drewswannabegirl @starrystarkey93 @httpstarkey @sweetlysilent @drewstarkey @dontjinx-it @ultranikilove @spencereidbasis @meaganjm @starlightstarkey @thortheestallion @jiaraendgame @idocarealot-not @tempestuousjj @pink-meringues @dpaccione @arianabrashierstuff @softstarkey @loveylangdon @xenagzb @teenwaywardasgardian @prejudic3 @nxsmss @canibeoneofthepogues @nqbmf @outerbanksbro @obx-direction-sos @digniteas @annedub @colorful-queen-of-the-roses @yesp0ny @loveniallandharryonedirection @fantasticpsychicfanfish @girls-breaking-hearts @beautyandthebleh @casper17 @parkershoco @unfortunatekiwitrash @loverofmineluke @slutforjjmaybank @skiesofthesketchy @sugarcoatedcalum @amorisxx

(the rest of the taglist will be in a reblog to hopefully not piss tumblr off this time!!)

#rafe obx #rafe x you #rafe x reader #rafe x y/n #rafe imagine #rafe fanfiction #rafe cameron x you #rafe cameron x reader #rafe cameron x y/n #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron fanfiction #rafe cameron #rafe cameron angst #freyby writes #diverdcwn writes #htbah

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erin-bo-berin · 5 years ago

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Helping Hand

MASTERLIST

Finally, this fic is seeing the light of day! I started this probably over a month ago and then it sat half finished for a couple of weeks when I went through my writing slump. I’m glad I didn’t force myself to finish it though because I don’t think I could’ve even PLANNED just how carried away this one got from me. Hence why I had to use this gif. Just had to give you guys some feels before you even started reading. Happy reading!

Thank you @multifandommandy for inspiring this fic! I believe the topic of a Spencer sex tape came up one day in one of our conversations and thus an idea sparked. Thank you for coming up with some of the visuals too. ;)

Spencer Reid/Reader

Rating: M (smut)

Word Count: 3,110

“I can’t believe you actually talked me into this.”

The sounds of the wet, open mouth kisses being left up your neck was the only audible thing at the moment.

“Just pretend it’s not there,” Spencer said, encouraging you.

The camera screen went dark, then the picture tilted wildly as the phone was positioned on the night table. In the view of the camera were you and Spencer laying in bed, unclothed, tangled limbs and all.

“You’re lucky I love you,” you grumbled, taking a quick peek at the camera.

The way the phone was angled, you could see more of Spencer than you could of you. Part of your face was shown which was good enough for you.

“In case you need something to get by when I’m gone during cases,” he smirked.

You ran your hand over his heavily stubbled jaw and pulled his face towards yours as he kissed you again.

Spencer was the lucky one. If he wanted to remember sexy time with you, he easily could. An eidetic memory would let a person remember a memory like viewing a photograph. In a way, he always had his own little sex tape in his mind.

Spencer was currently out of state on a case and unfortunately you were at home alone, pretty sexually frustrated.

This was exactly why he’d asked to make this. It was for yours and his eyes only, but it certainly came in handy for times like this.

Your teeth sank into your lip as you watched his lips move against yours on the screen of your phone, his body starting to rock against yours. The gold chain he had worn that day would hit your chin with every thrust and for some reason it was the sexiest thing ever. His mouth hovered over yours as you moaned quietly.

God, you missed that feeling.

Spencer had had two back to back cases lately. He’d barely been home for 24 hours when he had to turn around and leave again. He’d spent most of those 24 hours either asleep or at Quantico, working, so you didn’t quite get to jump his bones like you so desperately wanted to.

It had been two weeks, which normally wasn’t such a big deal, but you’d been extra worked up lately. But your boyfriend was sexy as hell, especially to you and you just couldn’t get enough of him.

You propped your phone against the pillow where you could still see it and watched a few more minutes. Yours and Spencer’s moans filled the room as your movements on the screen quickened, your hands grasping on to him like your life depended on it.

Your hands slowly slid upward over your stomach, through your pajama top, brushing your breasts. You whimpered a little, already sensitive. Your hands grasped them before you dropped them to the hem of the shirt, sitting up enough to pull it over your head.

You could already feel the slickness forming between your thighs, your clit throbbing from your arousal.

You imagined your hands were Spencer’s, slowly sliding up towards your breasts, rubbing them gently, then with a bit more enthusiasm. A soft sigh escaped your lips as you pinched your nipples, rolling them between your fingers.

Spencer always knew how to drive you crazy with something as simple as his touch. Your fingers tapped over the smooth skin of the swell of your breast. You imagined the way it felt when his tongue flicked across your nipples, taking each into his mouth one at a time to suck gently then blowing cool air on them, causing them to be even more erect.

“Fucking hell, Y/N,” you heard him groan in the video.

Your moans were escalating in the footage, gasps of his name coming every few moments. You lived for the moments just before you completely fell into oblivion, to the point that you desperately begged him to make you see stars. He always delivered too.

You spent your time caressing your body, just like he often did. Little kisses here, a soft suck there, he was definitely one to tease.

Your fingers reached the waistband of your pajama pants, sliding inside them. You brushed them over yourself through the thin material of your satin underwear causing you to shiver. You were so aroused, you were tempted to make yourself orgasm right then.

You tried to be patient though, wanting to enjoy the time to yourself. It wasn’t the same as being with Spencer, but an orgasm was an orgasm either way.

“Mm, Spence,” you whispered, your mind running wild.

The things he could do to you if only he were here right now.

The rough scrape of his beard against your thighs as he’d kiss them always got you riled up. It was always a tremendous effort not to grab his head and push him against your lower half.

Sometime during your rampant thoughts you’d pushed your pajama pants down far enough so you could play with yourself. You pushed your underwear down too, finally allowing your fingertips to drag up your slit.

You inhaled sharply, picturing Spencer’s face as he watched you intently, fingers pumping in and out of you. When he fingered you, there was no messing around. He knew just what you liked and how you liked it and his long, slender fingers were an utmost blessing.

You heard your gasping giggle from the video. You didn’t even have to be watching to know he’d pulled your legs further up his sides so he could thrust deeper into you. Man, that had been a blissful sensation.

The pad of your finger flicked your clit and you moaned in time with the mixed moans coming from your phone. Your eyes fluttered closed as a finger dipped into your wet warmth.

“Spencer,” you groaned, your other hand massaging your breast.

The video had ended at some point, but you were too caught up in your pleasure to notice. Your finger pumped faster and your back arched a bit, your teeth coming down to bite your lip.

“Oh, Spencer, yes,” you moaned, his name falling off your lips as much as it usually did when you were with him.

“Need a hand?”

You froze in horror, caught in the act. You weren’t sure whether you were thrilled that he was actually home or humiliated that he’d walked in on you.

You had been so caught up in your play that you hadn’t even heard him come home.

He was already loosening his tie as he walked to the bed, a smirk on his lips.

“Good to see you missed me.”

He climbed on the bed, kneeling over you, his lips meeting yours. Your hand found the familiar spot of his neck and jaw, rubbing it like you’d been imagining doing.

“I missed you too, baby,” he whispered, his lips already moving downwards over your chest and stomach.

His hands squeezed your thighs lightly and you watched breathlessly as he pressed one lone kiss on your slit before dragging his tongue up it slowly.

“Oh shit,” you mumbled, the sight of him between your legs for real this time enough to unravel you.

His tongue slid a slow path up your slit, taking a moment to flick across your clit.

“Fuck,” you exhaled breathily.

His fingers gripped your thighs, continuing to enthusiastically drive you crazy, licking and sucking like he was enjoying his favorite meal. His mouth left your core, making you whimper at the loss of contact.

“Were you thinking about this?”

His index finger traced patterns over your thigh and he peered up at you, his teeth pressing into his bottom lip.

You nodded, inhaling sharply when his touch dipped further closer to where you wanted it to be.

“What was that?” he asked, nonchalantly.

“Yes, I did. Spencer, please,” you whined.

“It’s a shame I didn’t get this on video,” he practically purred, fingers brushing your opening.

Your hips raised, looking for any contact possible, desperate for it.

“Nuh uh,” he tutted, pushing your hips down against the bed with both his hands.

“It’s been two weeks. I wanna enjoy my girlfriend.”

You could hear the smirk in his voice and you knew you weren’t going to get what you wanted anytime soon.

“If I knew you would pull this, I’d just gotten myself off,” you mumbled, frustrated.

“Then what’s stopping you?”

He sat back, looking down at you expectedly.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” you groaned.

“I’m not. I want to watch you touch yourself. Get yourself off to me.”

His grin was mischievous as he wrapped a hand around your wrist, guiding your hand down to your core.

You were horny and desperate for release and decided to give in. If he wasn't going to give you what you wanted at least you could give it to yourself.

You whimpered as your fingertips circled your clit, his gaze hard on yours. His fingers worked at the buttons on his shirt, quickly ridding of it.

“You wishing that was me touching you?”

Your eyes were locked with his as you moaned from your pleasure and you nodded.

“Use your words, sweetheart,” he smirked, leaning down, his lips grazing over your collarbones, sucking gently.

“Yes, I desperately wish it was you touching me,” you groaned.

Using your free hand, you reached to the bulge in his pants, pressing against it. He grunted against your skin.

“Not so fun now is it?” you mumbled.

Spencer could get extremely turned on by his own games, impatient as well. That’s what was currently happening.

He pushed your hand out of the way, replacing it with his own.

“I do it better anyway.”

His low growl sent a burning, fire-like sensation to the pit of your stomach, his fingers aiding in that as well.

His fingers pumped in and out of you swiftly, his knuckles rubbing deliciously against your walls.

“Oh, fuck,” you moaned, fingers gripping the sheets underneath you.

He was an expert with his fingers, that was no secret, but your depravity of this for the last few weeks was causing him to drive you crazier than normal.

He rotated his fingers, curling them into a typical come hither motion causing your moans to increase in volume.

Your hands covered your breasts, massaging them and you ran your teeth over your bottom lip. With a quick peek at Spencer, you saw his Adam’s apple bob as he swallowed hard.

You could feel his arousal pressed against your thigh. Watching you was getting him hard beyond belief.

One of his large hands rested on your abdomen, his thumb lazily circling your clit.

“Oh my god,” you whimpered, moaning, the fire in the pit of your stomach rapidly spreading through your veins.

Your back arched off the bed as your high soared through you, his fingers yet to slow.

You found yourself falling into an abyss of pleasure, his fingers having memorized all the right movements to send you spiraling. He watched you in a desire filled haze, knowing only he could make you writhe underneath him like this.

You’re panting when his face hovers over yours again. The pad of his thumb moves down your lips before he leans down to connect your lips to his.

Your mouth moves fluidly with his for a moment until your hands find his chest, pushing him away gently.

“I’m in charge of this show,” you mumbled, your eyes raking up from his lips to his eyes, a smirk present on your lips.

He moved off of you, eyeing you suspiciously as if he’s wary of what you have in store for him. You propped yourself up on your elbows, watching him. With a small movement of your head, you gesture to the top of the bed.

“Go ahead, get comfy.”

He does as he’s told, sitting up against the headboard as you climb up the bed, ready to join him. You have to hold back the moan that’s tempting to leave your lips at the sight of him laid out naked in front of you, ready and eager.

You climb in his lap, his hands immediately reaching out for your body, to pull you close to him.

Leaning his face upwards to meet yours, his lips capture yours sweetly.

Your legs rested on each side of him, your weight on your knees as you kneel over him. The kiss deepens as you reach down and wrap your hand around him.

Spencer moaned in your mouth, his fingers pressing into your sides as you pumped your hand up and down his length, twisting your wrist just enough to be tantalizing.

“This isn’t fair,” he mumbled, his head falling back against the headboard.

You took the opportunity to ravage his neck with kisses. He was blessed with a long neck, a perfect canvas for numerous amounts of love bites.

“I know,” you smirked against his skin.

You sucked hard enough on one spot to leave a mark, running your tongue over it momentarily as your thumb ran over the tip of his cock.

“Babe, as much as I appreciate the attention, I’d rather not finish before I’m buried inside you,” he mumbled, moving your hand away from him.

His words went straight to your core, your desire already pulsating within you again. Sometimes it was easy to forget just how un-Spencer like he was in bed. It was always a shock and a huge turn on every time you heard it.

It may be a cliché, but your boyfriend was definitely a gentleman in the streets and a freak in the sheets.

It was good to know he’d missed you as much as you’d missed him; enough to the point where he was just as sexually frustrated and desperate as you were.

You obeyed his wishes, lowering yourself down onto him, a quiet moan leaving your throat at the feeling.

Your hips moved slowly, teasing him just a bit. Your hand snaked up the back of his neck to tangle in the mess of curls, pulling his mouth towards yours again.

“Y/N,” he groaned against your lips, breaking the kiss to mumble his complaint against your lips.

“It’s been two weeks for me too, you know,” he added.

His hands find your hips, trying to make you move faster and you oblige, your rhythm picking up to match his own upward thrusts.

Your earlier ponytail was now a mess, more pieces of your hair coming undone from the updo. Spencer’s hand came up to your hair, pulling the elastic out of it. Your hair came tumbling down around your shoulders and he grinned, attaching his lips to your jaw.

Your hands rested on his chest as your hips circled, the room filled with nothing but your moans and the sounds of your bodies moving in sync.

“Fuck, fuck,” he groaned into your neck, lost in his own pleasure.

You took great pride in knowing you could make him react in such a way. Truth be told, you were sure he was the same way when it came to you.

Still, it was extremely sexy to hear him moan knowing you were causing him to do so.

“Yeah? Did you miss this?” you questioned, raising up off him just enough to move roughly down on him again.

“Fucking- holy fuck,” he growled.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” you panted.

A moan cut through your prideful statement so it ended up sounding more like “yesh” than a clear yes.

You reach over him, grabbing the headboard for leverage as you picked up your pace and moved rougher on him.

“Y/N,” his little whimper came from below you.

It sent chills of pleasure down your spine. There was just something so attractive to hearing his own response to you.

His large hands grabbed your ass roughly, helping guide your movements even more. Your ragged groan filled the room as he hit a depth enough to practically make your eyes roll back in your head.

“Oh god, oh my god Spencer,” you moaned, his name coming from you like a mantra.

Your chest was flush with his, your bodies slick with a fine sheen of sweat. His hands traveled up your back as you worked harder for your release.

The closer you got, the more words seemed to fail you. Your brain seemed to be fizzing out as the knot in your stomach continued to tighten.

Losing yourself to your pleasure, Spencer took full advantage of your thrown back head, the exposed skin on full display for him.

His hands on your back pulled you closer, his mouth wrecking havoc over your collarbones, a spot he knew would drive you crazy.

It didn’t take long for him to lose focus on his current task, his own release just within reach.

“Spencer.”

The ragged moan that left your lips was enough to send him over the edge with a loud curse and a groan to follow. You felt his entire body tense, his face filled with pure ecstasy, his teeth sunk into his bottom lip hard enough to draw blood.

You loved the erotic sight of him losing himself to the euphoria of an orgasm.

Even in his blissed out state, he made sure you got what you wanted too. You kept moving forward on him, grinding on him enough for the friction against your clit.

His fingers reached for the sensitive bud, intending to give you your own orgasm as well. He was leaning back against the headboard, eyes taking you in lazily, tongue briefly moving over his lips to moisten them.

When the coil finally burst, the amount of curses that fell from your lips were most likely considered unladylike, but you couldn’t care less.

Your vision went white behind your clenched eyes, your hand tugging at his hair.

You were breathless by the time your high had subsided and you opened your eyes to see a spent looking Spencer gazing at you lovingly.

You chuckled, pushing the few sticking curls off his forehead before disconnecting yourself and moving off his lap to sit next to him.

Spencer wrapped an arm around your waist pulling you close to him. He kissed your forehead, your nose and then finally your lips.

You lost yourself momentarily to the gentle kiss then pulled back, smiling up at him, glad to have him home again.

“Welcome home,” you grinned, glad in more ways than just the physical one that he was back.

“You know what I just thought of?” Spencer asked.

“What?”

“It’s a shame we didn’t film that.”

Tag List: @dreatine @reid-187 @groovyreid @reidslibra @suvikamahes98blr @fuckthealarm @whatspunispun @iamburdened @cindywayne @thomasfoockinshelby @tinyminy88 @theitcaramelchick @missprettyboy @hushlilbabydoll @sammy-jo1977 @theonlyone-meeeee @haileymorelikestupid @lemonypink @multifandommandy @teamkiall

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wannabe-fic-writer · 4 years ago

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Natasha Romanoff x Reader : The Whole World

Summary: This is everything Natasha could want and more.

Genre: Fluff Fluff and Implied Smut

Word Count: 1,300

******

The morning starts perfectly. Not literal perfection, but perfect in every way that matters to Natasha.

When the sun breaks through the blinds it wakes her and you, but neither of you move. Natasha takes you in, eyes trailing over your face: those eyes she loves that have yet to open, the lips she longs to kiss at every given moment of the day, your nose that scrunches at times while you’re asleep.

She reaches forward and gently moves the hairs on your forehead away, then leaning forward to press a kiss to the tip of your nose.

“If we don’t wake up now we’ll get woken up.” She mumbles, kissing your cheek this time.

A groan falls from your lips and you scoot closer to her, burying your face in her neck,“ she can try all she wants, I’m not moving.”

Natasha laughs, low and raspy from sleep. Her arm wraps around your waist and your legs tangle together in an attempt to be closer than before.

Your wife’s laughter brings a smile to your face and you phyically can’t stop yourself from kissing her. Early on in your relationship you never would’ve kissed her seconds after waking up, subjecting her to your morning breath or having to taste hers. It’s been a number of years now and she’s your wife not your girlfriend so morning breath be damned.

“Good morning.” You mumble against her lips.

She hums it back, smiling sweetly at you.

Just a minute of silence passes, which makes you both frown, and quickly glance over at the clock.

The both of you sit up and look over to the door, expecting your little girl to come bolting into the room, Liho behind her.

“Should we be concerned?” Natasha asks.

With a chuckle and a shake of your head, you begrudingly climb out of bed, pulling on a pair of shorts and one of Natasha’s sweaters. She of course comments on it, raising a brow and asking what’s wrong with your clothes.

You reply with a,“ they don’t smell like you,” wink at her, and leave.

Natasha is quick to tug on some clothes herself and follow after you.

“Tash, baby, grab some towels please!”

Frowning, she asks how many, said frown getting deeper when you say a lot.

With her arms full of towels she pads down the hall into your daughters room. The grey walls, white furniture, and pink accents greet her. And she’s drawn to the ensuite bathroom by the sounds of your daughters squeals and your controlled replies.

The second she gets at the door she sees the water flooding the floor, spilling over the edge of the tub with each movement from your daughter.

Holding back her laughter, Natasha drops a couple towels on the floor,“ what happened in here?”

Liho eases a paw into the room, only to jump back at the touch of water, and instantly leave the room.

“Momma I made my bath!” Alyiana exclaims, smacking her hands down into the water, effectively splashing you with water.

Pressing your lips together, you wipe the water off your face with the towel your wife throws to you.

As she moves further into the bathroom, she drops towels to soak up the water, until she’s squating beside the tub. You unplug the drain so majority of the water can go out.

“Dobroye utro printessa.” Natasha smiles at the little girl, smoothing her wet hair back from her face.

The red head’s eyes roam her daughter’s face, eyes a mix of green and y/e/c, nose a smaller version of yours, and hair as red as her own.

“Dobroye utro!” Your daughter replies, excitedly kissing Natasha’s cheek, leaving tiny spots of sods behind.

Smiling at the two of them, you ask Natasha to help Alyiana finish up before moving to clean up the mess your daughter made.

After she and the bathroom is all cleaned up, the three of you head downstairs. The whole while, Alyiana excitedly tells you all about her dream, something involving mermaids and space.

It lasts until you’ve put breakfast on the table.

“You excited to spend the day with the Starks?” You ask the little girl, passing your wife a cup of coffee.

“Yes!” she bounces in her seat as she says it, quickly launching into a rant about what she hopes they do. You knowing that the Starks plan to take their daughter and yours to a water park.

She and Morgan got along so well after they met, even though Morgan is three years older. The two are practically inseperable.

Natasha raises an eyebrow at you. It’s been a while since the two of you have had any time alone and she’s now incredibly excited.

When you’ve all finished breakfast, Natasha scoops Alyiana up in her arms and they go to watch cartoons.

Holding her little girl in her arms and watching the formidably childish, underwater based show, she can’t help but smile.

“Mommy look, Gary ran away!”

“Oh no.” She feigns upset for her daughter’s sake.

All the while you were pulling out the little girl’s swimwear and clothes to cover.

“Alyia come on, the Starks’ll be here soon!” You call out to her.

Placing a kiss on Natasha’s cheek, she wiggles out of her hold, and runs off to you. Natasha takes that time to tidy up the house, tossing Alyiana’s toys in the basket in the hallway.

There’s a knock on the front door that draws her towards it, Tony on the other side, immieditely smiling at the woman when she opens the door.

“Natalie hey, how are ya?” He side steps her into the house.

She rolls her eyes at the man’s ongoing joke.“ I’m good Tony. You?”

“Dandy.”

“You know to keep your eyes on my kid at all times right? Cause I would hate to have to kill you if anything happens to her. And I mean anything, if she so much as gets a splinter-”

“We do this every time Romanoff-”

Ignoring the fact that he cut her off, she continues,“ this includes my niece. Morgan better be in perfect conidition the next time I see her.”

Tony looks at her incredulously, only to see a joking smirk on her lips.

He rolls his eyes and chuckles. Gaze falling to you and Alyiana.

“Uncle T!” She rushes towards the man, wrapping his legs in a hug as he hugs her back as well.

Tony picks your daughter up and smiles at you,“ hey Y/N.”

“Sup Tony.”

“Promise I’ll bring her back in one perfect piece.”

“You better.” Leaning forward, you kiss her cheek,“ have fun sweetie.”

Natasha kisses her other cheek,“ we love you printcessa.”

After promising to be on her best behavior, you watch as Tony helps your daughter into the car, and pulls of with a wave.

Natasha shuts the door and you collapse on to thr couch.

Sighing loudly, you stretch out, legs splaying.

“Finally we can get some sleep.”

The woman shakes her head, moving towards you. Her knee rests in the spce between your legs, as she leans down to hover over you.

“Come on malyshka, we have the house all to ourselves.”

“Exactly, which means I can sleep right here on the couch and not have to worry about my daughter jumping on my lungs.” As you speak your eyes remain closed.

Natasha wars within herself. She’d never want to pressure you into sleeping with her, even though she is craving your touch.

With a nod, she starts to move,“ okay.”

You reach for her arm,“ come on Tasha, the last thing I want to do is sleep, especially when you look this breathtaking.”

“So you were messing with me?” Her eyebrow quirks in that incredibly sexy way.

“Um, yes?”

Green eyes darken,“ ya sobirayus' pogubit' tebya.”

You feel the flood pool between your legs and bite your lip,“ god I hope so.”

******

#natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff x reader #black widow #black widow x reader #marvel #marvel x reader #mcu #mcu x reader #reader insert

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hanniiesuckle17 · 4 years ago

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The Comment Section

A/n: as a technically plus size girl myself i really liked writing this! feel free to request again after I finish the rest of the ones I have now! (sry this is not thoroughly edited)

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: cussing, mentions of hate

Requested by: anonymous

Tag List: @distrikt9 @mini-meanhoe @poeticallyspaghetti @hanstagrams @yangomangos @hoes4hoseok @desertfordessert

Summary: Being on the larger side had never stopped you from anything before. You were confident in your curves and loved how you looked. It was one of the reasons that Han Jisung fell head over heels in love with you. Who would have thought a few silly little pictures would turn your world upside down.

Genre: fluff, little angst, romance

✯

Meeting Jisung was a complete accident. A complete accident that changed my life forever. I was a lost foreign exchange student desperate to find her way back to her dorm in the hot summer streets of Seoul. By pure chance, I had bumped into him on the street. I had no idea who he was at the time and he seemed to find that fascinating.

We ended up walking together until the sun set and the store signs lit up casting neon glows on our faces. Soon we both got lost wandering through the streets talking about everything and nothing in my broken korean and his adorable english.

Jisung bought me dinner and then we finally found my dorms. He left me with the promise to take me out and get lost again. And that was the start of our relationship. About our fifth date, Jisung told me about his job and who he was. He was utterly shocked that I didn’t freak out about his celebrity status. He always said that what I told him after was when he began falling in love with me.

“Whether you sing in front of thousands of people, pick up garbage on the side of the road, or teach pre-schoolers not to pick their noses, I would rather be with you than any other place or with any other person on the planet.”

Now a year and a half later, we were dating and living together in an apartment near the company. Jisung was quite upset that he had to keep our relationship a secret. The company after many attempts at breaking us up gave in and let him continue our relationship despite his dating ban, but only if he kept quiet about it and nothing got leaked to the press.

This meant we rarely got to go out unless both of us wore masks and hats and for five months out of the year, I was sitting at home waiting for Jisung to come back from tour trying to pretend like I didn’t have a boyfriend to begin with. But, it was all worth it. Jisung was worth it.

“Yes, dad. I promise I’m eating well.” I said looking at my father through a computer screen. My ears picked up on Jisung moving behind me to open the fridge and I knew what was about to happen next.

“Jisung!” My father called. Hearing his name he turned and leaned over me to look at my father. “Jisung, how are you?” My dad smiled and turned to focus on my boyfriend.

Jisung laughed seeing me drop my head in my hands. He leaned against the counter, a bright smile on his face. “I’m fine, Mr. L/n.”

“How many times have I told you? Just D/n is fine. Now, is she eating well? I know she has exams. You have to make sure my daughter is eating!” Jisung’s arm wrapped around my stomach, pulling me to his side.

“Of course! We are going out to eat soon actually.” He said cheerfully, pushing the hair away from my face.

I jumped at the opportunity Jisung secretly handed me. “Yes, Dad! So, we have to go! I love you, talk to you later, bye!” Jisung waved before I slammed my laptop closed, effectively hanging up on my father. “Can we really go out to eat?” I asked, wrapping my arms around his waist. He smiled taking my face in his hands, squishing my cheeks.

“Of course. I’m starving.” Placing a kiss on my forehead he exited the kitchen. While he was doing whatever he was doing, I ran to our bedroom and changed out of the pajamas I had worn all day.

Grabbing some shorts and one of Jisung’s shirts I started tying my shoes. How any of his clothes fit me at all was a mystery to me. Jisung was a twig compared to me. Granted he was a very muscular twig. But a twig none the less.

Jisung smiled seeing me in the baggy white fabric that covered my shorts entirely. He leaned against the doorway, dark hair falling in front of his doe eyes. He didn’t bother changing out of his gray sweatpants and tank top. “I never get tired of seeing you in my clothes.”

“I never get tired of wearing them.” He smirked, watching me get up from the bed and walk over to him. I let my hands travel up his chest as he looked down at me. “Are we taking the car or the subway?” I whispered, leaning up and kissing his lips. A cheeky smile slip onto his face as his hands grabbed onto my ass.

“I heard it’ll rain soon. Subway?” I nodded and kissed him again, fingers threading through his hair. “Ready to go, baby?” With another nod, we left our apartment, masks on and hats covering our faces. Instinctively, I pulled the white cap on Jisung’s head lower to cover his handsome features. He did the same with the black bucket hat (which was probably his) that I wore.

Just as Jisung said, a light sprinkled down on us as we walked to the nearest subway station. Unfortunately, the train was crowded, leaving no seats for me and Jisung. We got a few weird looks, most likely because of the excessive face covering.

We shared low whispers about where to eat and bickered about what stop to get off at. I turned out to right and dragged him off with train, just before the doors closed. Laughing, we ran through the rain to get to our favorite sushi place.

The woman who owned the restaurant greeted us happily when we entered, ushering us to a secluded back table. Jisung didn’t even look at the menu before ordering enough food to fill every inch of the table.

“How is the new album coming?” I said picking up a piece of fish. He nodded cheeks half full of food. I smiled seeing his little habit resurface itself.

“Good. I sent a song off to Chan this afternoon. He and I will work on composition tomorrow.” His long fingers maneuvered the chopsticks to place another roll onto my plate. I tried to put it back but he shook his head, adding another one as well. “How are your classes?”

“Stressful, but manageable. You know the girl next to me in my Maths class is a STAY. She has Seungmin’s photocard in her phone case.” Jisung smiled eating another piece of sushi. “Her phone rang in class the other day. Guess what her ringtone was?”

He hummed and looked up at me expectantly. “What?” He said covering his mouth, silver rings glinting in the low warm light.

“Close.” Jisung’s eyes lit up as he started laughing.

“I almost got in so much trouble when I released that song.” He said dipping a roll in soy sauce. “STAY almost figured out about us.”

“Well, you did all but put my name in the song,” I said with a laugh. Somehow we had managed to eat all the food on the table. “Did you really feel that way when we met?” I asked him, my elbow resting on the table.

A waitress came and cleared our table. Jisung stared at me, a soft look in his eyes. “Of course. You were the most gorgeous girl I had ever laid eyes on.”

“You are just saying that because you thought I had a great ass.”

“It is a great ass.” He said eyeing me up and down, a sly smirk on his face. “We should get going. It’s already raining cats and dogs.” Jisung paid for our meal and shoved his black hat back on my head with a smile, draping his arm over my shoulder as we walked out. He was correct. The rain was pelting down on the streets like bullets. “You ever been kissed in the rain?” He asked out of nowhere.

That mischievous smile glowed on Jisung’s face. “No, why?”

Without another word, Jisung pulled me out into the rain, soaking us both. His brown hair turned dark and stuck to his forehead as he pulled down my mask. My eyes glanced around the nearly empty street, before staring back into Jisung’s bright eyes. His long fingers lifted up my chin before resting on my cheek. The cool rain dropped around us, but I felt warm in his arms.

His lips dragged over mine, butterflies thundering in my stomach along with the rumble in the sky. My chest pressed against his, the wet fabric rubbing together. His teeth cheekily dragged over my bottom lip as I pulled away.

“Get out of the street!” Someone yelled honking their horn. Jisung and I turned to see a car’s headlights shining through the rain. We laughed and moved back under the awning. “Crazy kids!” The man yelled as he drove passed us.

I kissed Jisung again, tangling my fingers in his wet hair. “I love you,” Jisung whispered, pulling away. “All of you,” His hands ghosted over the curve of my hips. “Do you love all of me?”

“More than anything, Jisung.”

The cool rain sent a breeze under the cover. He pulled me closer to him kissing the top of my head. “Home?” He muttered looking around the wet street.

“Home.”

I pulled the dark fabric over his face, leaving nothing but his round lively eyes for me to see. His warm hand enveloped mine before we ran through the rain. Our feet splashed through puddles as each step brought us closer to the train that would carry us back to our little apartment.

✯

Bright light streamed through the bedroom window. An arm was wrapped tightly around my stomach. I smiled and shifted under the blanket so I could look at the handsome face of the man next to me. My eyes glanced at the clock before reaching over and stroking his hair.

“Jisung?”

He hummed, nestling into the pillow. I smiled feeling him reach for my hand and bring it to his lips. Drowsy kisses from his plump tired lips trailed over my skin. “You saying my name in the morning is so sexy.” My laugh filled the bedroom. His raspy voice never failed to send shivers down my spine.

“You think anything I say is sexy.” Jisung’s eyes slowly opened and his hands moved to rub his face, the muscles in his arms flexing ever so slightly. My fingers traced patterns over his bare chest, the skin radiating a welcoming warmth under my touch.

“No way. Prove it.” He said with a goofy smile.

Chuckling, I kissed his cheek. I thought about what to say. Leaning down, my breath fanned across his cheek. “I have to go shopping because we have no ramen left in the kitchen.” My words floated into his ear and I could see his cheeks redden at my tone.

Jisung groaned, pulling me fully on top of him. “Yeah, you were right. Anything you say is sexy.” He laid still for a moment, his hands rubbing up and down my back. “Do you need money for groceries?” He hummed. Shaking my head, I sat up, legs falling on either side of his waist. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, Ji. You don’t have to pay for everything, you know.” He laid back with a smile on his face, hands behind his head. Jisung stared up at me keeping that sleepy bright grin on his face. “You should get up. You’ll be late before you know it.”

A sigh heaved from his chest as he watched me leave the bed. It was evident his eyes were trained on me as I sorted through our shared closet. “You’re right.” The rustling of sheets told me he was shuffling out of bed and most likely towards the bathroom to shower.

Soon I was walking Jisung to the cab he had called down in front of our building. The fabric of my leggings brushed together as I rushed forward pulling him back for one more kiss before he entered the taxi. “Don’t forget, we have a date with pizza and a drama tonight,” I whispered against his lips.

His long fingers gripped my waist, a smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. His warm touch slipped into the waistband leaving something paperlike between the tight fabric and my skin. “For the groceries.” Jisung pecked my lips before getting into the cab. “Love you!” He called, rolling down the window.

Waving back, I watched the car pull away from the curb and drive my boyfriend to his company. Curious, I reached for the money he slipped me. Had I worn a hoodie and not a crop top, he wouldn’t have been able to do so easily. It was a habit he had of spoiling me and paying for things despite my protests. “Good grief, Ji,” I muttered to the near empty street.

My feet carried me to a nearby supermarket. I walked the aisles tossing anything we needed into the cart I picked up at the entrance. My hands lingered on a bag of chips, debating whether I actually needed the study snack. Jisung never cared how much weight I put on or how much I lost. I was confident in how I looked, so I wanted chips. I would get chips. Smiling I tossed them in the basket before moving to the next aisle to pick up a few bottles of wine and soju. I never knew when Chan and Changbin would pop by for a ‘lyric session’ and need ‘inspiration’

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw two girls whispering and looking my way. More than a year with Jisung had taught me to have an observant eye in public places whether he was with me or not. They stopped their talk when I turned to look at them. After placing the bottle in my cart I waved to them with a kind smile before going on my way.

Jisung returned later than usual. But, then again. There was no usual for when he came home. He passed out on the couch while I ordered us a pizza. While I waited, I lazily scrolled through twitter until something caught my eye.

“Rapper Han Jisung Spotted With Supposed Secret Girlfriend”

My eyes skimmed the article searching for any proof. My heart sunk finding what I sought. Several pictures of Jisung and me from the day before were shown below. Our faces were seen as clear as day despite the rain. We should have been more careful. I sighed, head in my hands. Curious, I scrolled to see what his fans were saying.

“I can’t believe this”

“So he really was seeing someone?”

“She’s so fat! She doesn’t deserve him”

“My friend and I saw her at the supermarket. She had like eight bottles of soju in her cart. Alcoholism puts on wait you know.”

“She’s a drunk and fat. I can’t believe she’s dating our Han.”

“She looks like a cow. Seriously I understand why he hid her from us.”

“Guys, stop. If he is happy then leave him alone.”

“He looks disgusted in those photos”

“Does she not care about herself? She’s dating one of the greatest rappers in the industry and she looks like a heavy slob.”

I tossed my phone onto the kitchen counter, not wanting to look a the comments anymore. My shoulders felt heavier than usual. Shower. A hot shower always made me feel better. Abandoning my device, which was blowing up with notifications, on the counter I marched to the bathroom and turned on the water letting steam fill the room.

The scalding water pelted against my bare skin as I stood under the showerhead. After my skin turned red, I stepped out of the shower, wiping steam away from the mirror.

My eyes raked over the body I once thought beautiful. How could my mind change so quickly? The curves I used to love now seemed ghastly and unflattering. The rolls on my stomach seemed more prominent as I looked over my bare body. My fingers traced over the waved marks on my thighs and pelvis, wondering how I never noticed them before today.

“Y/n, baby?” A knock sounded at the door but did not wait for an answer to open. Instinctively, my hands slammed it shut shocking the man on the other side. “Woah- Babe, what’s wrong? Are you okay? It’s nothing I haven’t seen many many many times before.” The smirk in his voice was evident, but I still felt exposed, despite the towel I moved to wrap around myself.

“Just go away. I’ll be out in a sec. There is beer and soju in the fridge. Go get one; the pizza will be here soon.”

I waited until I heard Jisung walk away before turning the knob and sneaking into our bedroom. My fingers grasped at the first baggy shirt I could find, but looking in the mirror it hugged in places that should not be hugged and made my body look lumpy and fat. Throwing on some leggings and one of Jisung’s fluffy jackets I decided this was enough coverage suitable to walk around in.

Jisung’s eyes widened when I entered the living room. “Wow. You planning an expedition to Antarctica?”

“I’m just cold, Jisung.” He watched with wary eyes as I pull the jacket further around my body. The doorbell rang turning both our heads. “I’ll get it.” Jisung nodded and picked up the remote, turning on the TV.

Opening the door I expected to see a pizza delivery man waiting for his tip, but instead, the hallway was empty. Before I closed the door, my gaze landed on something on the welcome mat.

A bouquet of wilted, dried, dead flowers. A ribbon darker than black was wrapped around the fragile stems. With shaking hands, I picked up the flowers. Petals and leaves fell to the ground. A note was tucked between the graying stems.

Fat Bitch.

Subconsciously, I pulled the jacket around my body, covering as much as possible. “Y/n? Everything okay? They didn’t forget my garlic knots, right? They forgot last time.” Jisung’s voice called out. My eyes still stared down at the bouquet in my hands. “Baby?”

I felt cold. It felt like I wasn’t in my own body; like my soul had left this world leaving me a shell standing with no will of its own.

“What the fuck is this?”

Shaking myself out of the trance, I looked to see Jisung standing beside me anger flooding every inch of him. Not waiting for an explanation he took the bouquet from my hands, more petals falling to the floor. The note seemed to make him even angrier.

“Fuck,”

I closed the door and watched him throw the flowers onto the counter, sending dead leaves flying across the kitchen floor. He turned to me, fury in his eyes. He seemed to be waiting for me to say something. “We both knew this was going to happen sooner or later.” His jaw dropped, not believing my words.

“You aren’t furious? You aren’t pissed off? Why are you not bothered by this?”

“Jisung, I can’t be bothered by something I already know is true!”

He stared at the flowers littering the counter. “You can’t possibly think that...can you?” Jisung sighed watching me shrug and fiddle with the sleeves of his jacket. “Y/n...this is not you. What happened to the girl who surprised me in my studio wearing nothing but a trench coat and lingerie just because I said I missed your smile?” My gaze fell to the floor, fixated on one of the leaves. “Where’s the girl who went skinny dipping with me on the night of our anniversary in Jeju?”

“I don’t know, Jisung!” He was shocked hearing me yell. “They are right! Okay! I am a fat cow with no reason to be dating you. I’m not sexy and skinny and I don’t have the body of a model. You know who does? The girl you should be dating! Maybe I just don’t like myself anymore!”

“The Y/n I know and love didn’t care how much she weighed.”

“Well...maybe I’m not your Y/n anymore.”

“That I don’t believe.” Jisung took my face in his hands, staring into my eyes. “I know about the photos. I know about the comments. They are all false, okay? None of them are true and you know it.” His thumbs brushed over my cheeks, voice full of desperation and sadness.

“Jisung, I’m not beautiful. I don’t feel beautiful anymore. I don’t see how you can love someone who can’t even see themselves as pretty.”

He sighed, leaning down and capturing my lips in a breathtaking kiss. I could feel all his emotions, everything he wanted to say as his lips moved against mine. Jisung pulled away, his eyes looking lovingly into my own. “I don’t love you because you are beautiful,” He whispered, pushing a strand of wet hair behind my ear. “You are beautiful because I love you. All of you.”

“Even the stretch marks?”

“The stretch marks. The curves. All of you.”

Sighing, I rested my head against his chest. “Why did I even think that?” Jisung let out a shaky breath stroking my still damp hair. “Shit, I was so stupid to believe those comments for even a second.”

“I can’t blame you. I’ve done the same.”

Pulling away, my hands cupped his cheeks before moving to wrap around his neck. “I love you,”

“I love you more.” Jisung kissed my forehead, dark hair falling in front of his eyes. A thought came to mind that made me giggle. “What?” He asked with a smile, leading me back over to the couch.

“How did you even remember that studio thing? That was like...in the first month we were dating!”

He laughed, pulling me into his chest and falling back onto the sofa. “Are you kidding? That may have been the single greatest day of my entire life.”

“You are just a pervert.” Again the doorbell rang, causing both of our heads to peek over the top of the couch cushions. “Can you get it?” Jisung nodded and got out from under me. A few moments later he came back with two pizzas and his beloved garlic knots. “They didn’t forget?”

“Nope!” He said happily flipping open the boxes. “Here.” He pulled one away and fed it to me, the fluffy breading melting in my mouth.

“You know what I think?”

“What?” He asked already somehow halfway through the box of garlic knots.

“I think I can eat this entire pizza faster than you.”

He closed the garlic knot box, a wry grin on his face. “Oh, you are so on, babe.” He planted his feet firmly on the floor and turned to his pizza box. “Ready? Three....two....-” Before he finished counting down I grabbed a slice and stuffed it in my mouth. “Y/n that’s cheating!” Between bites, I laughed as I watched him try and catch up from my early start.

“Come on, twig boy! Catch up.” He laughed and shoved another slice into his mouth filling his cheeks.

✯

Requests are Temporarily Closed! Sorrrrrryyyy

Masterlist

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tinyboxxtink · 4 years ago

Text

“My Fairy Abogado” *Part 6*

Fair warning, this chapter starts fluffy/sexy and takes a hard left turn, idk a “trigger” word for that. 😐 Tag List

@wanniiieeee

@dumauier

@chasingeverybreakingwave

@objection-argumentative

@word-scribbless

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 7

Your parents shower wasn’t that big, after all it was the Barrio. It was almost like cramming two people in a bathroom stall.

“Maybe this wasn’t a great idea,” You winced as Rafael’s elbow nearly missed your eye.

“Well, maybe we can’t go for round two, but I can still pamper you hermosa,” He lathered shampoo in his hands and began massaging your scalp. It was like he had magic fingers, the way they moved all around your head, hitting pleasure spots you were unaware you even had.

“Mmmmm,” You purred. The head massage with the warm water, all of your stress just melted away. You weren’t thinking of the kids, or the restaurant, or even the Diablos. It was just you and Rafael, here in this moment.

“Now rinse,” Rafael instructed, and you obliged. As the water cascaded over your face, he began massaging your shoulders with soft kisses mixed in.

“You’re killin me smalls,” You groaned with a laugh.

There was zero way you were having sex in this shower without someone breaking something. Still, it was too enticing. You turned to face him, lathering shampoo in your own hands and rubbing it into his hair gently, pulling him in to kiss you as you did so. Pretty soon you could feel his erection against your naked thigh.

“How’s your upper body strength?” You asked devilishly.

“It’s...adequate,” Rafael saw the wheels turning in your head.

“Well then I better work fast,” You grabbed him into a hard kiss and jumped into his arms, pushing him inside you.

“Mmmph!” He knew what was coming, but it still took him aback as he tried to distribute your weight in his arms without slipping and killing you both. However once he got a rhythm going, the feeling was intoxicating. He bounced you up and down while you had your legs tightly wrapped around him like a tree.

“Are you almost there baby? I really oversold myself here,” He grunted, making you giggle.

“Aw honey, is the arthritis kicking in?” You teased him, pulling on his hair as you bounced.

“Ha ha,” He couldn’t even come with a witty comeback, he was at capacity all around.

“Alright alright, let mama help,” You balanced on him with one hand, as your other reached down and went inside you, between his ball sack and your clit. You started rubbing it around as hard as you could, encouraging completion from the both of you. You must have done a hell of a job, because one moment you heard you both moaning in pleasure, and the next you were waking up on the floor of the shower, Rafael still inside you.

“Fucking Christ! What happened?” You couldn’t help but laugh at the absurdness of this whole thing.

“Shit, fuck are you ok Y/N?” Rafael pulled out of you and frantically searched your body for injuries.

“Yeah...I think I bumped my head,”

“Yeah I um...we both...and I dropped you,” He turned bright red, making you laugh harder.

“It’s not that funny,” He grumbled, helping you to your feet.

“Aww, baby I know, I know,” You giggled as you rinsed the suds that were all over him.

“Are you sure you’re ok? That was a pretty hard thump on the head,” He searched your eyes for dilation, making sure you didn’t have a concussion.

“Trust me, my hard head can handle a lot,” You assured him.

“Okay, good. Now no more shenanigans, I can’t end up in the hospital over sexcapades,” He chuckled as he finished cleaning himself.

“Oh yeah, what would the people say?!” You feigned shock.

“They’d say that’s still pretty tame to some of the other government officials' dirty deeds,” He chuckled as you rinsed off and went to grab some towels off the rack.

“Oooh scandalous,” You giggled, turning off the water and handing him one of the towels. You both dried yourselves off, then stopped to look at your reflections in the mirror.

“Well, this is one image I never expected to see in this mirror,” You smirked, reaching and ruffling Rafael’s hair. As you turned to face him you wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Yeah this is a whole 180 from kicking me out of your place,” He smirked.

“I didn’t kick you out! You were already outside!”

“Semantics,” He rolled his eyes as he walked over to his clothes and began to put them on.

“So you really, never thought--?” You perched yourself at the foot of the bed, still wrapped in your towel.

“In the middle of you screaming at me? No, I can’t say that it did,” He chuckled.

“I’m really sorry about that,”

“Don’t be,” He kissed your forehead. “It’s far behind us,” You smiled and pecked him on the lips.

“Speaking of,” He glanced at his phone. “I am FAR BEHIND schedule, I better go. I still have to go home and get into abogado mode,” He chuckled as he grabbed his leather jacket and walked out of the room into the hall. You trailed behind in your towel, down the stairs and to the back door where he paused and held you for a moment.

“I hate to say it, but next time you see me…”

“You’ll be abogado Rafael Barba, not Rafa,” you finished with a sad smile; you rolled the R as he did the night before.

“Yeah…” He played with your hands in his, looking sadly at the floor.

“Well it’s good we got that out of our systems then,” You half smiled, making his head jerk up.

“....Seriously?” He asked with so much hurt in his voice.

“I was feeling you out, guapo,” You pushed his shoulder playfully as he let out a sigh of relief.

“But seriously, that’s gonna have to last us for a while,” You stroked his cheek. “I can’t have the kids thinking…”

“I know,” he put a hand over yours on his face. “I can’t have people talking either,”

“But as SOON as my parents are home--” You batted your eyes.

“Oh it’s on, mi amor,” He pulled you in for another kiss, you smiled into his lips.

“Alright, well have Mr. Barba call me later, yeah?” You chuckled as he mounted his bike.

“He will definitely be in touch, Miss Y/N,” He winked before driving out of the alley way and down the street.

You leaned against the doorway, drinking in the whole night/morning. You were so lost in happiness, you didn’t notice the shadow figure emerging from down the alley.

“Hola, Y/N,” Diego’s voice startled you so bad you almost dropped your towel.

“D-Diego,” You whispered, unsure what to do.

“I knew it, the abogado wanted him some nice chicano ass, those boring gringa Barbies ain’t shit,” He chuckled.

“That’s NOT--”

“No you know what it’s not? It’s not okay for you to disrespect me like this,” He shook his head.

“Ay, mami. I tried to be nice, I really did. I gave you a nice warning and everything,” He put hand to your cheek but you jerked it away.

“You leave us alone, Diego,” You summoned all the courage you had to stand up against him.

“Ohhhh, kitty’s got claws now!” He laughed harder. “That’s cute,”

“Rafael already put one of you away, he could finish the job,” You got way too cocky for your own good. Diego got in your face, his hands almost around your throat.

“Or I could finish him, puta!” He growled.

“Rafa thinks he’s chico grande because he climbed up out of here, and yet look at this, he’s still slumming it,” He nodded at you with an evil smirk. “I think he needs to be reminded who still runs this place,”

And that was it. You didn’t remember anything else until you heard Mari screaming at you.

“Y/N!!!! Oh my God… Y/N!!! Are you ok? Please wake up, please wake up…” She was shaking you. It took you a moment to return to consciousness, but as your brain started to wake up, so did the pain.

“Ow…” You muttered. Mari let out a breath of relief as she threw her hands around your neck and pulled you up.

“What the fuck happened?!”

“Diego…” You muttered, still not quite able to form full sentences.

“Diego? Why would Diego beat the shit out of you?”

“Rafa…” You mumbled back, walking over to the mirror of your backroom. Your hair was disheveled, gravel all tangled in it. Your face was black and blue, your lip was bleeding. You removed your towel to asses the damage to your body. Black and blue bruises were forming on your rib cage. It was obvious once Diego had punched you out he literally kicked the shit out of you.

“Jesus Christ...we should get you to a hospital,” Mari came up behind you with tears in her eyes as she saw just how badly you were hurt.

“No!” You spun around to face her. “That is the LAST thing we need to do,” You hobbled up your stairs.

“Seriously, Y/N? Look at you, you can barely walk!”

“I’m fine,” You walked back into your parent’s bedroom, Mari trailed right behind you. You winced in pain as you sat on the bed. You looked over to the spot where you and Rafael had just been together hours before; how did it go from that to this?

“Wow, it looks like you had sex in here....” Mari trailed off, looking at you. “OH MY GOD,”

“Can you not yell, please?” You held your ear in pain.

“That’s why Diego came after you! Rafael was here, wasn’t he?” Mari was starting to get angry.

“Maybe…”

“Oh that son of a bitch,” Mari started pacing angrily. “I can’t believe he let him do that shit to you!”

“He didn’t,” You winced more as you tried getting dressed. “He left, and then Diego jumped me,”

“Where’s your phone? That pendejo is getting a piece of my mind--” Mari started going for your phone on the dresser.

“NO,” You grabbed it before she could. “If you call Rafa, he’ll just come right back down here and he can’t deal with all of...this,” You gestured to your bruised body. “He has a job, he doesn’t have time to worry about me,”

“He did this to you!”

“I did this to myself, Mari,” You sighed. “He came over last night and I should’ve told him to leave-- but I didn’t,” Tears stung your eyes as you spoke.

“And now the universe is severely punishing me for it,” You threw your hands up. “I should’ve known not to fly close to the sun-- I got burned,”

“And then some,” Mari looked at you sadly. “Well, obviously you can’t see him again,”

“Obviously,” You sighed, doing your best to keep a brave face. “Can you...Would you go downstairs and open for me? I need a minute,”

“Absolutely babe, you take as long as you need,” Mari nodded and gave you a hug as she left and closed the door behind her.

As soon as she was gone, you couldn’t hold it in anymore. You collapsed onto the bed in sobs; pathetic, loud, carnal sobs.

How could it end like this?

#rafael barba #rafael barba x you #rafa #rafael #rafael barba x reader #rafael barba imagine #law and order special victims unit #law and order svu #law and order svu fanfiction #my fairy abogado #angst #warning

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catchmewiddershins · 4 years ago

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HAIKYUU CHARACTERS AND THINGS THEY DO AT CHRISTMAS/NEW YEAR (ANIME ONLY FOR NOW):

Karasuno:

Daichi: He gets Christmas patterned socks... Like Christmas trees, snowmen, the whole shebang

Suga: Starts singing that Mariah Carey song on the 1st of November

Asahi: Hums Christmas carols under his breath bcs they got stuck in his head

Ennoshita, Narita and Kinoshita: 'Forgotten Teammates' Secret Santa

Tanaka (+ Saeko): Make Christmas food together (it's not great and has an overabundance of alcohol, courtesy of Saeko)

Noya: Misses a practice bcs he choked on an advent chocolate

Tsukishima (+ Akiteru): Tsukki tends to to stay in his room and the most festive decoration he'll have is a single paper chain... Akiteru dresses up as Santa

Yamaguchi: Goes to Tsukki's house for Christmas dinner, dresses as a Christmas tree for no reason

Kageyama: 3 words... Christmas flavoured milk (he made it himself and it tastes disgusting)

Hinata (+ Natsu): Their family always hosts a New Year's Eve party, they both have matching elf costumes and love Christmas crackers and New Year's fireworks

Kiyoko: Has the best wrapping skills known to man, only gets the 3rd years and Yachi presents - refuses to wear a sexy christmas outfit much to Tanaka and Noya’s dismay

Yachi: HANDMADE CHRISTMAS CARDS FOR EVERYONE AND THEY’RE ALL UNIQUE AND PERSONALISED - SHE EVEN GIVES THEM TO PEOPLE FROM OTHER TEAMS

Ukai and Takeda: They go drinking together for New Years

Aoba Joshai:

Oikawa: That one person who has no clue how to wrap a present, he also hangs out with his sister and nephew on Christmas day

Iwaizumi: That one person who is insanely good at wrapping presents and gets the best presents too

Mattsun: Gets people gag gifts

Makki: Gives people gifts but like 3 days after Christmas bcs he forgot

Yahaba: Teams up with Oikawa to decorate the entire gym with tinsel... Also really likes sparkly baubles

Kyoutani: He always gets given calendars with different dog pictures... He also never turns up to parties

Watari: The best person to have over for New Years because he’s the calmest

Kindaichi: The team decorates him like a tree, they even attach a star to the top of his hair

Kunimi: Never puts any effort into decorating for Christmas, only got one present for anyone and it was Kindaichi (it wasn’t even a good present - a hat to cover his bad hair)

Nekoma:

Kuroo: Forces the team to learn the mean girls dance

Kai: Just wants to cook the turkey in peace - designated chef

Yaku: Constantly pulling Christmas crackers and party poppers to scare Lev

Kenma: Is on his phone for the entirety of Christmas Day

Yamamoto: Dives into the snow shirtless/in pyjamas

Fukunaga: Walks into practice wearing a massive Christmas jumper, he also has clip-on antlers permanently clipped to his hair during December

Teshiro: Is Kai’s assistant, he’s in charge of the sprouts and napkins

Shibayama: Just wants to help, gets tangled in Christmas lights bcs he’s a bit too short to put them up

Lev: They put a disco ball on his head for the New Years party (it’s tied under his chin with a velcro strap), he also brings some Russian food that his family made to practice

Nekomata: Was found actually being Santa for the local kids, he swore Kenma to secrecy

Fukurodani:

Bokuto: Dresses up as Santa but says HEY HEY HEY instead of HO HO HO - He also decorates but it looks like a festive explosion, just red and green everywhere

Washio: Wears a Santa hat to practice and keeps an entirely straight face the entire time, sends merry christmas texts, very short

Sarukui: Attaches bells to Bokuto’s jacket

Konoha: Is the initiator of many many Christmas game tournaments (I’m talking UNO here)

Komi: Encourages Bokuto, also got into trouble for replacing several parts of display boards with Christmas memes, plays Christmas songs non-stop

Akaashi: Makes sure to get everyone on the team something for Christmas, he also fixes Bokuto’s decorating bcs he KNOWS how to decorate

Onaga: Brings Christmas cookies to practice

Dateko:

Kamasaki: Challenges everyone to a game of Christmas volleyball where they all have to wear costumes

Moniwa: Makes sure that everyone has a cracker and laughs at all the bad jokes, goes to sleep before midnight on New Years

Sasaya: Gives chocolate out to everyone and makes a TON of paperchains

Futakuchi: Mistletoe everywhere to annoy people, tells Moniwa the cracker jokes, gets sent home from practice because his Christmas jumper was too ugly

Aone: Points at people who don’t have enough Christmas spirit and gets dressed up as a snowman for a younger school’s christmas fair - he’s happy bcs the kids there aren’t scared of him

Obara: Always has a roll of sellotape on him to help fix things that have broken

Sakunami: Everyone gets annoyed at him bcs he has a really specific (and boring) list of what he wants and just knows what he’s going to get - rubbish at secret santa

Onagawa: Decides to wear ‘bell bottoms’ after a ton of requests, they are actually bell bottoms, he sewed bells all over them

Fukiage: Gets the team to take a Christmas picture which he puts on a card to each of them

Koganegawa: Still believes in Santa

Shiratorizawa:

Ushijima: Brings in Christmas trees to decorate the gym with, yes they’re real, no they’re not sure where he got them from - gives people fruit and socks for Christmas and wraps gifts with brown paper and string

Tendou: Christmas songs all the time, light up jumpers, Rudolph costumes, REALLY loves Christmas food! Spray dyes half of his hair green, wears tinsel to school

Semi: Can play a ton of Christmas songs, and will, gets everyone a card except Shirabu (he does get Shirabu a card but it’s anonymous)

Reon: The team’s damage control, makes sure that they all get enough sleep the night before New Years, jumps at Christmas crackers

Kawanishi: Makes his own paperchains for the gym and gets everyone cards... other than that he isn’t a big Christmas fan

Yamagata: Helps Goshiki to make cards for the team and arranges some fun games for them to play on New Years Eve

Goshiki: Tries to make cards for the team but gets glue everywhere, comes into school with tinsel stuck to his hair - challenges Ushijima to a paperchain making contest which Ushijima wins by a landslide as Goshiki can’t get glue or sellotape off of his fingers

Washijou: Is a scrooge - he just is but Hinata sends him a Christmas card anyway

Johzenji:

(I just couldn’t be bothered to do the whole team this time)

Terushima: NEW YEARS PARTYYYYY! Calls people so early on Christmas and decorates everything, glitter on everything

Misaki: You think Terushima’s decorating was OTT? It would have been twice as bad if she hadn’t calmed him down

Nohebi:

Suguru (+ Mika): Only decorates with green not red (red is Nekoma), he and Mika go ice skating together

Kuguri: Can’t be bothered to stay up on New Years Eve

Itachiyama:

Sakusa: Disinfects all of the decorations that Komori gets, he also prefers simplistic Christmas wreaths over tinsel and other things

Komori: Attempts to decorate, loves the Christmas season and goes for walks in the snow

Inarizaki:

Kita: Uses traditional decorations and hates plastic trees (one broke while he was holding it and fell on his foot - yes I’m projecting, it happened to me and it hurt) - he makes personalised cards for the whole team and arranges a Christmas dinner

Omimi: Gives cards and that’s it, secretly enjoys the jokes in crackers

Aran: Binges Christmas movies, absolutely loves them and will sing Christmas songs a lot too

Ginjima: Is desperate to make Christmas run smoothly, makes paper stars

The Miya Twins: Osamu makes a lot of food and Atsumu decorates with tinsel - the pair wear matching Christmas jumpers

Suna: Disses everyone’s cooking (mentally) around Christmas and attempts to tone down Atsumu’s vibrant decorations - is the best at hanging things up

Riseki: Listens to Christmas songs a lot and hums to them in school

Akagi: Sometimes he and Atsumu try to do passing drills with a burnt Christmas pudding or a satsuma

Extras:

Ikejiri: Definitely a handmade card sort of person, the only one who doesn’t take off his christmas cracker hat

Takeru (Wakunan): He and his family throw massive Christmas and New Years parties - is the epitome of Christmas Cheer

Hyakuzawa: Is dressed as a Christmas tree 100% - forgets the lyrics to any Christmas song

Hoshiumi: That one person who only gets chocolate for Christmas and then has a massive sugar rush

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punkpoemprose · 4 years ago

Text

December 1st- Lights Out

Universe: 1970′s AU (The Great NYC Blackout of ‘77)

Rating: M (Mature, Sexy times)

Length: 3077 Words

A/N: So here we are again. Advent fics, and also decades AUs! I wrote from 1900 to 1950 for last year’s advent and I did 1960 in the spring, so here we are picking up where I left off! If you can guess what company Anna works for in this fic I will give you a cookie and a sticker.

Lets see if I can finish at least the decades this time around, shall we?

Anna sighed as soon as she walked through the front door of the apartment, letting her hair fall out of the low bun she’s had it up in all day. She knew that it was probably silly to keep it up. After all she hated it being that way, but she wanted to make a good impression at work. The better she did, the quicker she could get a good reference, and the sooner she could get out of the city.

She was a bit amused though, despite the hairpin headache it had given her all day, that a coworker had compared the look to something out of the sci-fi flick that had come out some months back. She hadn’t seen it yet, but she imagined that being compared to the princess in the film was probably a good thing, she did know that it was exceedingly rare that a princess was evil or ugly. Her experience with children’s content was, of course, what she’d in part been hired for in the first place.

She shook out her hair and heard some of the little metal bobby pins fall to the floor, they clattered and skidded, undoubtedly falling into cracks and corners she didn’t have the time, energy, or light to locate. She knew that she’d find them again someday, but she hoped that it would soon be because she was busy moving furniture into a truck and her belongings into boxes. New York was interesting, to say the least, but she’d decided that she was much more of a small-town gal than a city chick.

She gathered up the rest of the pins in her hand as she raked her hair through the long and snarled mess. Those pins that hadn’t jumped ship with the initial shake had found themselves tangled in the waves of descending hair and were sometimes angrily biting at strands and taking pieces with them as she removed them. She could already feel her headache easing as her scalp tingled and readjusted to the natural weight distribution of her hair.

The worst part of her job was not the headaches, the hairstyles, or even the momentary concerns that maybe the princess she looked like was the rare evil and cruel type. No, it was much more mundane and far more upsetting, the factor being, of course, the hours. She had been working since noon and it was one of the rare days that she was able to get home before nine at night. Of course, she had expected this when she joined on the CTW’s education research and grant writing division. Kid’s television didn’t exactly make itself, much less make itself educational, but she was looking forward to going elsewhere and working for a less high-profile program and company. A nine to five, she thought, would suit her just fine, especially if it meant that she’d spend more time actually working with kids.

She kicked her shoes off and let herself breathe for a moment before turning around to lock the apartment door behind her. Kristoff has been asking her to be more careful lately with the door, and on the subway, and doing just about anything. They weren’t in a particularly dangerous area of the city and the office she worked out of was only two subway stops from their apartment, but she understood the worry. She was young and pretty in his eyes at least and there was talk in the news about some psycho attacking women. She couldn’t let herself give into the fear of it though, she was done being afraid. She had spent too much of her life being scared and lonely to let it ever happen again.

The bathroom door opened on the opposite side of the room and Anna grinned at the familiar creak of the hinges. She turned and saw Kristoff, fresh from the shower with steam rolling out from behind him, looking as happy to see her as he felt seeing him.

“There’s takeout in the fridge,” he said, looking a bit sheepish, “I was going to cook but I didn’t know when you were getting home tonight and I forgot to pick up the egg noodles on my way back from the shop.”

She wondered how he’d react if she told him that he was the only thing she was hungry for. She’d forgotten to call him to let him know that she’d had a sub at the office while finishing up on some research for an upcoming episode about astronomy, and while she appreciated his efforts at takeout, she didn’t need to eat. She was much more interested in the feast for the eyes before her. She was starving for his attention, to let her hands wander down his chest and to the towel slung low over his hips the way her eyes were traversing the same path.

They were both working crazy hours, saving up as much as they could for their dream of moving to the suburbs or to upstate or wherever they could both find jobs in their fields with a nice little starter house that they could set up a life in. Consequently, they’d both been too exhausted lately to spend their time together doing anything other than eating, sleeping, and maybe listening to the radio before falling asleep. The monotony of it was more exhausting than the workload, particularly when she spent a fair amount of her day wishing for the opportunity she now found before her.

She saw him grin when her eyes wandered back up to his. She knew that he couldn’t have planned to be just getting out of the shower when she got home given he hadn’t known when she would get home, so she called it kismet instead. She shrugged off her blazer, barely turning as she hung it up on the coatrack and returned the smile, throwing in an eyebrow raise for good measure.

It made him laugh, and that let her know that she had looked exactly as mock-lascivious as she’d meant to. She’d learned that when it came to Kristoff, she never really needed to try to flirt, he just gave her the love she needed on demand. Any flirting between them was, at this point in their relationship, mostly for the laughs.

As she stepped forward to meet him she watched as the room went from softly lit to pitch black in an instant. It caused her to jump about a foot, rush forward, trip, and encounter Kristoff who had been, in return, crossing the room to get to her. The impact wasn’t gentle, he was normally her favorite pillow, his largeness being mostly a virtue given the fact that despite his muscle he was overwhelmingly soft, but she had never run straight into his chest before. It was a bit like what she felt running into a padded wall would feel like.

“Oof.”

His grunt of discomfort was a strange comfort when compared to the more concerned sounds, shouts, and confused cries that came from the surrounding apartments and the street below. That, Anna realized, meant that they were certainly not the only ones who were out of power.

“Sorry!”

She offered the apology meekly as his arms wrapped around her. He gave her a little protective squeeze and she rested her weight against him a bit more fully, still recovering from the impact of their bodies that had her a bit shaky on her feet. Normally she enjoyed the sensation of him thoroughly wrecking her, but crashing into him unexpectedly was significantly less enjoyable.

Power outages weren’t exactly uncommon in the summer as everyone ran their fans and air conditioners, but it normally wasn’t something that lasted exceedingly long. This already felt different though, particularly as Anna heard the hollers and shouts coming from through the window from the rest of the block. Whatever had caused their power to go out was not localized to their apartment or building it seemed.

She let her eyes drift over to the window as they adjusted to the darkness they’d been plunged into. She could see past the no longer running fan that there were no lights to be seen in the park across the street from it, nor were there any beyond it.

“I think it’s the whole block,” she said quietly, “maybe even more. There’s no lights in the park and I can’t see any light past that either.”

They were both quiet for a moment as she felt him turning to look as well, turning them together to the side so that they could both look through their dark window, into the dark city beyond.

“Crap,” he groaned, “Might be the whole borough.”

Anna shook her head. That would be insane. They were in Manhattan, it was massive, and for the sheer amount of different areas it contained there was really no logical way for her to wrap her head around the power being out across it.

“If Manhattan is out, the whole city might as well be. I don’t know what it would take for it all to go out.”

Kristoff sighed and Anna’s eyes finally adjusted well enough for her to see his grumpy expression, or at least the shadowy set of his displeased jaw. They sat like that for a while, eyes adjusting to the dark, waiting for the power to click back on and for them to be proven wrong about any more than just their block being out. It didn’t return after minutes passed like hours, and they were forced to move from their standstill.

“Well… guess it’s a good thing that Elsa bought us candles for an apartment warming gift. Do we even have a lighter?”

Anna sighed, “Honestly I don’t know? I think I have a box of matches in the drawer next to the stove because we needed them when the igniter wasn’t working. One of us needs to take up smoking if this is going to become a more frequent event.”

That, she was pleased to report, made him laugh again. She stepped out from his arms to bump into furniture in her search for the drawer containing the matches. She never truly realized how many obstacles their apartment contained until she crashed her hip into the table edge, bumped into a basket of laundry she’d only half folded, and stumbled across a chair leg.

“That seems like an extreme option. We could just buy a lighter and not smoke. I know you don’t like the smell. You always complain about it when we go out to eat and someone lights up at a table near us.”

Anna hip checked the counter by accident but managed to find the drawer handle with one hand as she rubbed the now sore skin through her pant leg with the other. Somewhere on the other side of the apartment she heard Kristoff open the closet door and make a valiant attempt to dig through out-of-season coats, miscellaneous pieces of décor, tools, and sundry to find candles that, like everything else in their apartment, he couldn’t see.

For her part she was rummaging through the junk drawer, fingers making contact with buttons, patches, glue bottles, tape dispensers, and all manner of unnecessary-until-they’re-necessary items. She always told herself when she went into the drawer for something that she needed to clean it out, but it was one of those tasks that never made itself a priority.

“I don’t like it, but I’d probably have a lighter in my pocket if I did.”

She could practically feel his eyes rolling when her fingertips brushed against the rough, sandpaper-like striker of the matchbox. Her hand wrapped around the little box, and she was grateful to feel something rattle around inside. It would have been just like her to have thrown an empty box back into the drawer, and she couldn’t help but appreciate past Anna for leaving her at least a few matches.

“Found them,” Kristoff called just as Anna was about to do the same. It was a small mercy, she thought, that they’d managed to be prepared despite not intentionally preparing for anything. She held the match box up in the dark and shook it hard, the rattling heard across the apartment even with their neighbors still grumbling and shouting.

“Great,” he replied, hearing the sound or seeing the movement confirming the existence of the matches. “Though you should know… Anna I think I lost my towel somewhere near the closet.”

***

The lights hadn’t come on. They’d spent hours in the living room, reading, lazing, complaining about the heat as they read and lazed and sweated in their underclothes. The possibility of going out and seeing what everyone else was doing was offered and quashed by them both on a few occasions, ultimately with them both deciding that they wouldn’t be leaving the apartment that night, nor would they be doing so in the morning, even if the power was back on.

“I deserve a day off,” Anna moaned as Kristoff’s hips rolled into hers.

They’d went to bed innocently enough, planning to sleep in and catch up on rest. The plan had lasted all of a few moments until Anna took advantage of Kristoff spooning her to press her rear suggestively into his crotch. She thought that they deserved some sort of prize for making it into bed in the first place. She’d wanted him since she walked into the apartment, and though he’d managed to put on underwear out of the half-folded laundry basket after losing his towel, Anna had been more than willing to spend the rest of their evening on the couch in candle light.

Their current arrangement was better on their backs, and less likely to start a fire.

“You do baby,” he agreed, his voice deep as they engaged in the only agreeable activity a young couple could possibly agree on when it was late, the power was out, and there was nothing to be done about the heat.

His hands were on her waist as she moved above him, his fingers pressing into her skin as he helped her find a rhythm. She loved the way it felt to have him below her, to give him the pleasure he deserved while taking it for herself.

“You deserve a day off,” she added, “We can spend the whole day in bed.”

He groaned and she felt his fingers squeeze a little tighter at the idea of spending a whole day alternating between making love and napping. Though, she supposed that he might also be reacting to the fact that she was speeding up her pace, riding him hard and fast, trying to make up for weeks of unwanted celibacy in one night.

She was full of him, each time she rolled her hips and sank down on him brought her closer and closer to the edge. She’d spent hours daydreaming of it, feeling the stretch of him filling her, watching the euphoric daze come over his features as he let her give herself to him again and again until they were tired and sated. To see it now in the dim flickering candle light brought an intimacy that she hadn’t imagined before, the light dancing over his kiss swollen lips as he groaned and panted along with her.

“Anna, if you keep doing that I’m going to…”

She rocked her hips and his rolled in return, seeking just the right angle together and finding it as the friction of their joining brought her to her climax before he could achieve the same. She kept her pace, riding out the euphoric sensation as he panted out her name. She let him take up the lead then, letting him set the pace as she moved along with the urging of his hands on her waist.

“Kris,” she encouraged, “Gosh baby you make me feel so good. Please come for me.”

She settled her hands on his shoulders, using him for support as they sped up and worked together to find his end.

He came for her, his grip tightening and his eyes fluttering closed as she watched his face. That was her favorite part of being on top, the view it afforded her of his features softening as she felt him go pliant below her.

They stayed like that for a moment, his hands on her hips and her just holding his shoulders for support, watching him. When he caught his breath and her thighs began to shake from the effort, he pulled her to his side and kissed her lips softly, almost chastely.

“I hope the power stays out,” Anna teased as she got comfortable on the bed at his side, “I know we agreed not to go to work tomorrow, but I think I could live without electricity if it meant more of this.”

Kristoff chuckled against her ear as he pulled her back into him. It was too hot for it, too hot for what they’d just done, but a slight breeze through the window cooled the sweat on their bare skin and made it bearable. She felt him kiss her throat and she hummed appreciatively at the contact, her arm settling over his where it crossed her stomach.

“Or we could just move sooner than planned. Imagine all the free time we’ll have together when we’re on the same schedule. I’ve been looking at jobs North of Albany and I think with our savings we can live on one income for a little while if you want to move up the timeline.”

Anna smiled at the idea.

“Want to hear something crazy?”

He didn’t speak but instead she felt him nodding behind her.

“I’ve been thinking the same thing. I’ve been looking at open positions upstate too and Fisher Price is looking for someone with an education background to join their research and design team. I was thinking about calling about the position and setting up an interview, but it just seemed like it was a little fast.”

“Anna that’s not crazy… baby that’s wonderful.”

“You’re wonderful,” she teased, leaning back into him and turning her head to give him a peck on his arm.

He laughed and kissed her on the top of her head in retaliation, and as they quieted and dozed off to sleep, Anna could not help but to think that maybe the blackout was fate after all.

#kristanna #kristannaadvent2020 #frozen fanfiction #kristanna fanfiction #1970's AU #Blackout of 77 AU

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