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neon-junkie · 3 years ago

Text

Five-oh-Thirst

Summary: The 501st boys have finally reached their breaking point; they just HAVE to have you, and Jesse makes it his mission to recruit you into their shenanigans. After a night out at 79's, you're spoilt by a handful of Troopers, and a Captain who's late to the party.

Pairing: Female Jedi Reader x Rex, Jesse, Fives, Kix, Hardcase, Dogma & Tup

Word count: 12k

Tags: Shameless smut, Gangbang, Drinking, Double penetration, Praise kink, Voyeurism, Military names, Aftercare, Morning after pill.

Notes: this is so fucking slutty and i loved writing every second of it >:) sorry if some of the boys are a little OOC, im still new to writing these hotties. Tumblrs formatting is shite, so i’d suggest reading this on AO3 (under the same username.)

To say that you're 'close' with the 501st is an understatement. Close isn't quite the word you could use to describe the bond you have with this boisterous bunch of clones. You may be their Commander, but you're also a friend, and soon to be a lover. You've had your fair share of drunken nights out with the lot, getting rowdy in 79's, dragging each other's asses home, falling asleep in cuddle piles in their barracks. Yes, you shouldn't be mingling like this with your squad, but it's hard to not get so attached.

Anakin has warned you over and over about both your attachment and feelings, but you've seen the way he talks to them, Rex specifically. Anakin has let his emotions lead him whenever his men are hurt or in danger, and maybe that's why he always gives you a wink during his lectures. He knows what it's like, and he's only attempting to follow the Jedi code, teaching you in the process.

Speaking of Jedi codes, apparently rocking up to the Jedi cruiser bridge with a cup of caf in hand is something to be frowned upon. What? you're tired, and it's not like Anakin has asked his men to get him a cup of caf before. Obi-wan has done this exact same thing also! So, because you're a Padawan, you're not allowed to do it? Sheesh. The hypocrisy.

Despite Anakins disproving glare, the briefing continues flawlessly, as does the mission. Luck must have been on your side, or the force, depending on what you believe in. The Separatists crawled away with their tails between their legs, leaving the planet Naboo alone once more.

A course is set for Coruscant, and the Jedi cruiser launches into hyperspace, taking roughly seven hours to return home. That time is yours to do as you please, and you decide that a nap is in order.

Walking to your quarters takes a good ten minutes, seeing as how large this cruiser is. You travel down an array of corridors, having Troopers stop and salute you as you pass. It's a touching gesture, but sometimes you hate being the centre of attention. You understand that, to the clones, it's a sign of respect, one that they hold dearest in their hearts; you tried to get them to stop once, and only insulted them in the process, so you swiftly gave up and let them continue.

One Trooper in particular calls out your name from behind, and you rotate to see ARC Trooper Jesse approaching, his helmet tucked under his arm, and his other hand salutes you as he approaches. "Commander, do you have a minute?"

"For you, Jesse? Always," you say with a smile.

That smile is mirrored right back at you, and Jesse gestures for you to step down a quiet corridor to talk in private. He doesn't speak up at first, scratching the back of his neck nervously, but you allow him to take his time. Whatever's on the tip of his tongue must be really important.

"Commander, this is a... strange request to make," Jesse begins, and looks for your approval before continuing.

"Go on."

"Well, the boys and I were talking... and uh, you know how we like to de-stress by going to 79's?" Jesse mutters, keeping his voice quiet.

"Yes?" you question, nodding at the same time.

"And by de-stress, we like to... you know, pick up women there," Jesse shrugs, avoiding eye contact as he speaks.

Something in your gut informs you that you know what's coming next, and it explains why Jesse is stalling his request so much. You continue nodding as he speaks, squinting your eyes ever so slightly, suspicious of where this is heading.

"We've been uh, wanting to invite... you along, but we're not sure if that follows your erm, codes?" Jesse pulls the most panicked expression as he finally spits the words out. You think you know what he's asking, but you'll need to dig a little deeper, just to be certain.

"Going to 79's in the first place is against my Code... I think?" you reply, uncertain on what the Jedi code says about nightclubs and getting drunk with clones. "I thought you would know by now that I bend the rules in my favour, without others knowing, of course."

"Oh, that's a relief," Jesse sighs, and removes his hand from his neck. "I mean, you shouldn't, but we all break some rules here and there, don't we?"

"Yeah," you say with a shrug. "What exactly are you asking from me, Jesse? Be clear with your words, Trooper," you order in a teasing manner, noticing how the tip of Jesse's ears turn pink at your words.

"How about... the next time we all go out for drinks, we... take you back instead of some random woman?"

Oh.

There's a heated knot in your stomach, twisting and turning at the thought of sleeping not only with Jesse, but a handful of men. They're all attractive in their own unique ways, and you applaud them for how they create their individuality, through hairstyles, facial hair, and tattoo's. Not only does it make them easier to identity, but it really helps express their personality, and how they may act on the battlefield.

And the thought of having a bunch of these handsome men taking care of you? Who would say no to that?

"Who do you mean by 'we'?" you question out of curiosity.

"Uh, well, it depends on who comes out with us. I mean, all the boys have spoken about it, and all of them are down," Jesse shrugs, and rubs the back of his neck once more.

They've spoken about this? All of them? You must be quite the catch.

"Why? Is there someone you want to avoid?" Jesse then questions, and you instantly shake your head in response.

"No, I'm just curious. I... didn't know you all felt that way towards me," you sheepishly reply, and Jesse flashes you a concerned expression.

"You're kidding me, right? Have you noticed the way we all speak to you? The way we are around you? Even General Skywalker has told us multiple times to cool it," Jesse nervously laughs, clutching his helmet tighter.

You laugh with him, your mind replaying many incidents where the boys have let it slip. Kix has made multiple inappropriate jokes as he's been patching you up. Hardcase is always offering his lap as a seat whenever you're at 79's, and that's an offer that you may need to finally take up. Dogma will attempt to follow the code, but you've caught him staring at your ass more than once. Fives is Fives, and that's all that needs to be said. And Tup is too shy to make any bold moves, but you can tell he has a soft spot for you, as his face turns bright red whenever you're within ten feet of him.

As for Rex and Jesse, they flirt when it's appropriate, meaning when they're not in earshot of General Skywalker.

"Now that you mention it..." your words trailing off, thinking about all those moments.

"See," Jesse points. "So, are you in?" he questions, scrunching his face up in fear of rejection.

"As long as you boys can share," you instruct, knowing what they're like. "I'm in."

Jesse fist pumps the air as he lets out a "yesss!" but swiftly attempts to cool it, trying to not let his excitement burst. "I'll let the men know. We were planning on heading out tonight?" Jesse offers.

"I'll be there," you smile. "Make sure you and your men look good for me, Trooper," you playfully order.

"Of course, Commander," Jesse nods, and allows you to end the conversation there. If you're going out later, then you definitely need that nap right now. Jesse lands a cheeky slap on your bum as you turn to walk off, and you flash him a smile over your shoulder, heading down the corridor to your quarters.

----------

Could this be considered a date? or just an arranged hookup with a bunch of men? Either way, you're using the night as an excuse to dress up, not that you need an excuse to begin with.

That nap does wonders for you, although it could be considered more of a sleep, since as you woke up, you were arriving back on Coruscant. It's mid-afternoon, giving you plenty of time to get ready for tonight. Upon arrival, you take a trip downtown to purchase something to wear for tonight, and you have just the right outfit in mind.

The dress is ever-so-slightly out of your price range, but you know it'll be worth it. The 501st take pride in their colour, blue, and you know their jaws will drop when they see you in their colour. The dress fits the way you like it, bold and flashy, enough to turn more than your legion's heads. You pair the dress with some white heels and a bag, Trooper colours all around; you're really milking it, but Maker, don't you look good!

Hours later and you're ready for tonight, checking yourself out in your apartment mirror. You're fortunate to have your own place outside of the Jedi temple; it's tiny and run down, but enough to get you away whenever you need it. Sadly, it's far too small to fit a handful of clones in, so the barracks will have to do.

One taxi later, and you're outside 79's, queueing up to enter the busy club. Happy hour has just begun as you enter, and you remove the comlink from your bag, pressing a button to inform your men that you've arrived.

Nervously, you gaze around the club, ignoring the random sets of eyes on you. You're only after one group of men, and thankfully, one of them approaches you.

"Commander?" Kix calls out. As you turn to look at him, his face lights up, gesturing to the outfit you're wearing. "Oh, Commander!" Kix sighs, gawking over the sight of you in his legions colours.

"Not too much?" you question, gesturing to the outfit.

"No, it's just right," Kix sighs yet again. "And I like the white heels and bag, nice touch!"

Of course Kix has noticed those minor details.

"Where are the others?" you question, and Kix offers you his arm in response. You take it, following Kix through the club, eventually coming across a cosy booth, full to the brim with your boys.

Kix's reaction to your outfit was sweet and wholesome, something you'd expect from him. Fives on the other hand is hollering like a dog as you approach, checking you out with a whistle, doing everything he can to hype you up. "Commander," he purrs, and wraps an arm around your waist. "Here for me?" he jokingly questions, making you laugh at his forwardness.

"She came here for all of us!" Dogma butts in, swatting at Fives's hand around your waist.

"Oh, so you are joining in, Dogma? I didn't think you were one to break the rules," Fives bites back, and gestures for you to take a seat as he talks.

"This is different, Fives," Dogma mutters. You zone out to their bickering as you shuffle around the booth, finding a seat between Hardcase and Tup.

Tup, like the sweetheart he is, quietly tells you "you look beautiful," with flushed cheeks. Only for Hardcase to add "yeah, you look hot!"

It's hard to believe that these men are all clones. Their reactions are so vast, but they all express the same thing - you look good, and no doubt, they're going to be all over you tonight. They look just as good as you do, maybe even better; they've dressed up for tonight, sporting fine button-up shirts, all of them looking clean and tidy, for once, not covered in dirt from the battlefield.

Jesse offers to buy your first round, and insists that you stay at the booth with the others. He probably fears that another batch of clones will latch onto you the second you stand up. Are the men in here aware that you're a Jedi? Or do they assume you're some poor, unfortunate soul, who's been sucked into spending the night with this bunch? You're hoping for the second assumption, as the last thing you want is some tattle-tale clone recognizing you and ratting you out to the Jedi order.

Jesse returns with your drink and a round of shots, and so, the night begins. The shot is surprisingly nice, as is your drink, but the next set of shots? Eh, not so much. It seems that the more you drink, the worst the shots taste, and you have to turn down the fourth one. You're not going to be standing if you continue chugging drinks at this rate; how your men can drink like this is beyond you.

Dogma and Tup have relaxed in their own way, joining in the conversation every so often, although Dogma is still being teased for 'breaking so many rules.' Hardcase and Fives are as loud as each other, and are currently attempting to impress you through a series of arm wrestling matches. Jesse seems content, on a nice, tipsy level, and has had his eyes on you all night. Kix is simply vibing, not visibly drunk, but bubblier than usual.

You continue peering around, questioning who's missing, and then it suddenly dawns on you.

"Wait a minute! Where's Rex?" you yelp, noticing the lack of a certain blonde clone.

"You've got all of us here, and the only man on your mind is the Captain?" Fives tuts, breaking his concentration from the arm wrestling match. Hardcase takes up the opportunity to take victory, slamming Fives's hand down onto the table.

"Yet again, I am victorious!" Hardcase states, and Fives sputters at his remark.

"That's not fair! Our Commander was asking us a question," Fives argues, and the pair begin bickering between themselves.

You decide to intervene, turning to Hardcase and asking "so, what would you like as your prize?"

Your question is met with a sea of "oooh!"'s and "pick something good, Hardcase!" His face alone is priceless, his emotions switching between shocked, flustered, and cheeky. Hardcase then trails into thought, and after barely any thinking time, he settles on his prize. "For you to finally take up my offer and sit on my lap, sweetheart," he replies, patting his thighs as he talks.

A smirk escapes your lips as you stand, shuffling over to sit on the tattooed clones lap. Hands find their way to your waist, and you're almost certain that Hardcase is purring as he cuddles up to you.

"How is she?" Kix questions, as if you're not sitting in earshot of his question.

"Comfiest ass in the galaxy," Hardcase hums, pulling you higher onto his lap as he speaks. He settles his chin on your shoulder, fine stubble pressed against your skin, and from the expressions of those around you, you can tell that they're all jealous. They'll have their time with you eventually, whether it's here, or at the barracks later. The night is still young.

"My turn," Dogma announces out of nowhere, shuffling out of the booth. None of you have any idea what he's on about, until he turns to you and asks "what are you drinking, Commander?"

You tell him your order, followed up with "and stop calling me Commander! We're not at work, you don't need to call me that."

Dogma apologizes with a soft laugh before making his way over to the bar, followed by Jesse and Kix.

"Is it bad that I kinda like calling you it?" Fives questions, and you know exactly what he's implying.

"The only places you should be calling me Commander is on the battlefield, and in the bedroom," you purr, and you're met with a fawning, lustful expression from Fives, who is more than satisfied at your answer.

"Yes, Ma'am," he purrs back, and you take a mental note for later.

"You know, none of you answered my question," you begin, and the rest of the clones look at you in confusion. "Where is Rex?"

"He said he's busy with a meeting, and that he'll meet us at the barracks later," Fives explains, softly shrugging as he speaks. In Fives' eyes, that means one there's one less clone for you to give your attention to, meaning more for him.

"That's a shame," you sigh. The thought of Rex being here right now is a curious topic on your mind; would he attempt to maintain his high-ranking status, remaining professional despite knowing what's going to happen later? Or would he throw all of that out of the window, taking the first opportunity to straddle you onto his hips and remind his men who's in charge?

"Don't worry, sweetheart. We'll take good care of you whilst the Captain's gone," Hardcase smugly comments, placing a gentle kiss to your shoulder as he eyes you up.

Hardcase stays true to his word, as do the rest of your men. Dogma, Jesse, and Kix return shortly after with the next round of drinks, and lo-and-behold, more shots. You have entered the stage of tipsy, sitting on the drunken fence by the time you finish your drink. Hardcase offers to buy the next round, but you brush him off, insisting that it's your turn. "Since you're all taking care of me, the least I can do is return the favour," you explain, and a few of the men chuckle at your reasoning.

Tup, the sweetheart that he is, helps you up and over to the bar. You're able to walk, even in these heels, but you know that Tup's presence is actually a way of telling others clones that you're already taken for. To your surprise, his hand settles around your waist as you prop yourself up against the bar top, waiting for somebody to come and serve you.

"How's your night going?" Tup questions. "Enjoying yourself?"

"Yeah, are you?" you reply with a nod, curling up into Tup's side.

"Mhm," Tup nods in agreement. "I just need a few more drinks down me," he adds, and you understand how he feels. If you weren't the centre of attention, then you'd be just as quiet as Tup is, shying away nervously in the cornerless booth.

"Let me get one for you," you offer, and Tup takes you up on it.

"Thank you, Comma- I mean, uh, love." Tup's expression turns sour, blushing at his fumbled reply. You brush the nerves off him by placing a kiss on his cheek, and watch in amazement as his face begins turning a different shade of red.

Tup mutters something to you, and you almost miss his words over the volume of the music. "You missed," he boldly states. Tup's definitely stolen that line from Fives, or has been taught it - either way, it's something Fives would say, and you know how close those two are.

"Oh?" you cheekily sigh. You're about to follow it up, until the bartender arrives, pulling your attention away from the clone.

Once your order is placed, you turn back to Tup, wanting to finish where you left off. He looks at you, then looks away, pulling an embarrassed face. Your fingertips are placed below Tup's chin, gently turning his head to face you, and before Tup can say anything, you lean in to kiss him.

Tup freezes up, before melting into the kiss, moving his head to fit against yours. A hand finds its way to the back of your neck, holding you there, as if to reassure himself that yes, this really is happening. Tup's kisses match his personality, sweet and gentle, but the tongue that slides across your lower lip suggests there's more to him than meets the eye.

You can overhear the sounds of cheering in the background, and you just know that it's coming from your men. You break away, not to be rude, but because you don't want the poor bartender to be stood there awkwardly as you're busy snogging a clone. Thankfully, they arrive moments later, and you two soon return to the booth with drinks and shots in hand.

Fives applauds his vod as Tup sheepishly sits down, and you go to take a seat beside him, until Jesse pulls you onto his lap. "You've had enough fun with him, come and give us some attention!" he playfully nips, and follows his statement up with a kiss on your neck.

"There's plenty of me to go around," you bite back, wiggling your hips slightly, grinding your ass on Jesse's lap. He sighs heavily at your move, wrapping his arms around your waist, holding you there.

You turn your attention to the drinks that you just brought, downing yet another shot, and washing it down with your beverage.

Minutes later, and you're really starting to feel the liquor running through your veins, as well as the undying urge to dance. Jesse is willing, and Hardcase lets you two know that he'll meet you over there, once he's gone and used the refresher. The rest of the clones stay seated, to your surprise, but then again, they don't seem like the type to dance. Well, Fives possibly, but he's barely able to stand, let alone dance, and Kix is nursing him back to soberness with many glasses of water.

Jesse follows you over to the dance floor, your hand in his, and it's busier than you expected. The dance floor is mostly full of clones and their squadrons, all celebrating various victories and whatnot, with a few women lingering about. You understand by now that women only come to this bar to pick up the clones, and can you blame them? Bless the Kaminoans for picking out Jango Fett to be their donor, as his genetics are excelling in all departments.

"My turn with you already?" Jesse questions as he begins dancing with you, swaying in time with the music.

"We've only been here for a few hours. I thought you'd be more patient?" you tease, and Jesse gives you a look.

"I'm patient when I want to be, sweetheart," Jesse shrugs. "But for you? I've been waiting a long time for this," he explains as he pulls you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist.

The tattooed clone smiles down at you, and the glisten in his eyes informs you that his patience truly is running thin. But how long will it be before it runs out? Or how much can you rile him up before he breaks?

"I'm sure you can wait a little longer," you flirt back, trailing your hand along his shirt, fingertips gliding over each of his buttons. You meet his collar and hook a finger over the fabric, gently pulling his head down to your level.

Jesse smirks as he replies "I don't think I can," before pressing his lips to yours. You can tell that Jesse's patience is running thin from the way he kisses you, hungry and lustful, playfully nipping at your lower lip. Your hands wrap around his neck, and you have to remind yourself that you left your bag with the others - that's why your hands are empty.

The hands on your waist trail down to your ass, and Jesse boldly grabs more than a handful, pulling your body tightly against his as he kneads your ass. You break the kiss with a yelp, and remind yourself that you're still in public, thankfully with no eyes set on you. "Jesse!" you playfully swat him, and he chuckles against your skin as his lips trail over your neck.

"You started without me!" A disappointed voice calls out, and warmth appears against your back.

Hardcase has returned from the refresher, pouting because the party has apparently started without him. Jesse moves his hands back to your waist, almost as if he's giving permission for Hardcase to press his crotch against your ass, sandwiching you between the two, tattooed clones. Your cheeks quickly turn red, and you must look more flustered than you feel, as the face that Hardcase and Jesse send each other informs you that they have something planned.

"So," Hardcase begins, his eyes flicking down to yours. "When are we taking you back?"

"Soon?" you nervously reply, questioning your own motives. It's hard to concentrate with an uneven sea turning in your stomach, but the liquor is thankfully helping - you'd be a lot more flustered if you were sober right now.

"Soon?" Jesse repeats, raising a brow at your reply. "Why not now, sweetheart?" he asks.

"Yeah," Hardcase nods, and then dips his head down to kiss along your neck. His kisses trail up to your ear, nipping at that sensitive spot behind it before stating "you look like you need us to fill you up."

A bold, yet true statement, but you're unsure if you want to leave just yet. Do you want to continue your teasing here? Or click your fingers and order your men to take you home and fuck you?

"She's thinkin' about it," Hardcase states, directing his words to Jesse.

"We know what you're thinking, babe, and we think that you've teased us enough already," Jesse says to you, and kneads his hands on your waist, picking and pulling at the fabric of your dress. Bold of him to assume what you're thinking - you're the Jedi here, not him. Either way, his thoughts are true. You have teased them enough, but there's no harm in drawing it out just a little longer, is there?

Jesse steals a kiss from you again, and you can feel him smiling as you let out a soft moan. Hardcase continues kissing up your neck, rutting his semi-hard cock against your ass; his lips wander down below your neckline, and he bites and sucks at your skin, leaving a purple blotch behind. It's in just the right place, an area where your Jedi robes will cover it up, but if you want to tease him on the battlefield, all you need to do is pull back at the thin layer of clothing, revealing his mark.

Just as Hardcase is about to kiss your neck again, a voice calls out "get a room!"

Oh yeah, you're doing all this on the dance floor of 79's. Whoops. Jesse pulls away and chuckles at the strangers remark. "See? Even he thinks we should get going," he states, and you finally agree to make a move.

Jesse leads you off the dance floor, and Hardcase keeps his hand comfortably around your waist. You wander back over to the booth, picking your drink up off the table and finishing it off. "It's time, boys!" Hardcase states, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh?" Fives looks over to you, flashing you a cheeky grin. It seems the many glasses of water on the table have finally brought him back to a stable level; Kudos to Kix for dealing with him.

Tup passes you your bag as he shuffles off the sofas, and you thank him by pulling him down for a quick kiss. You break away with a soft laugh as you hear Fives complain "where's mine, huh?"

"You can get it when we're in the taxi," you explain.

Fives swats Hardcase's arm from around your waist, replacing it with his own, and mouths the words "my turn," to Hardcase, who simply laughs at his eagerness. You and Fives take the lead, exiting the club with your squad following behind.

--------

The ride back to the barracks is... eventful, as is entering the barracks itself. Jesse and Kix walk ahead, pretending to be drunker than they actually are so they can distract the guards with their very existence. The rest of you sneak by, sheltered by a wall of horny clones, and you're ushered into their dorm.

The second you step foot into the room, Fives is all over you. With his hands on your hips, he leads you over to the wall, pushing you up against it and locking his lips with yours. Fives's hand trails up to grab your bag, pulling it from your grasp, and chucking it onto a nearby bed, leaving your hands free to wrap around his neck. He's impatient and needy, hungrily kissing you, his hands struggling to find a single place to rest; they slide over your waist, down your back, and grab at your ass, before trailing up and repeating the process all over again.

"Kriff, calm down. She's not going anywhere," one of his vods comments. Kix possibly?

Fives ignores the comment and continues turning your legs into jelly, making up for all his apparent 'lost time.' When he does finally pull away, he's grinning. His pupils are blown, full of lust, eyeing you up like a piece of meat, until somebody swats him away.

"I'm the one who proposed this to her, so I get first dibs," Jesse intervenes. There's something thrilling about the way they're speaking about you, as if you're not there, as if you're their property. In some ways, you are theirs - you have always been theirs - but only tonight have things finally taken a step forward.

Somebody has dimmed the lights, enough to set the mood, but still light enough that you can see what's happening, and so can everyone else. Everybody's watching as Jesse leads you over to what you assume is his bunk, sitting down and pulling you onto his lap. Your knees fall onto either side of his hips, spreading your legs, your dress hiking up your thighs.

Jesse places his hands on your waist, holding you as his lips take over from where Fives left off. As he kisses you, he pulls down on your waist, grinding you over his semi-hard cock, reminding you of what's to come. You feel the hem of your dress slip up slightly over your ass, and one of the clones sighs at the small teaser.

Jesse knows what his vods are after, so his hands trail up your back, finding the zip. He slowly unzips your dress, taking his time to reveal what lies beneath, and breaks the kiss so he can pull your dress over your head, discarding it on the bunk next to him.

Needless to say, the air is filled with an array of praise, mutters and moans at the sight of you. You're straddling the ARC Trooper in your underwear and heels, now being freed of your bra. Jesse groans as your tits fall free, and moves his lips down your body, along your neck, over your collarbone, until he latches onto a nipple.

You feel something tug at your foot, and peer over your shoulder to see Hardcase removing your heels; he's polite (and sober) enough to place them down neatly, rather than tossing them to the floor, or worse, throwing them at his vods. Hardcase then stands up, peering over you, and prevents your lips from feeling lonely. He keeps your mouth occupied, whilst Jesse flicks between both of your tits, and both of them find their way to your panties.

"Need to get these off you," Hardcase mutters against your lips. Hardcase hooks his fingers around one strap, Jesse has the other, and the pair slowly slide them off you, moving with your body as you shuffle from Jesse's lap to remove them. You're left naked in a room full of your men, the men that have served under you for a few years now, but it seems that Jesse is the one taking the lead tonight.

"C'mere," Jesse mutters as he manhandles you off his lap. He shimmies around and lays down, his head at the foot of the bed, feet resting against his headboard. Jesse pats his shoulders before making grabby motions with his hands, signalling for you to climb aboard.

With one knee on either side of Jesse's face, you straddle him. Despite the alcohol still pumping through your system, you're still nervous, exposing yourself fully to your men. They're all reacting positively, a few of them palming themselves through their smart pants. Your nervousness doesn't stay for long, being brushed away as Jesse pulls your cunt down onto his face.

He licks a firm stripe over your pussy, followed by a few more curious ones, before wrapping his lips around your clit and sucking. You yelp, instinctively grinding down on Jesse's face, and he seems to like it from the hum he lets out. "Kriff," you overhear one of the clones mutter, and you realize it's Fives when he pipes up with "go on, sweetheart. Fuck his face!"

Jesse nods against your cunt, and the squad seems eager for a show, so, why not?

Firm hands hold onto your thighs, steadying you as you begin rocking back and forth over Jesse's tongue. He's flattened it out nicely, and at this angle, you're able to brush your clit over the wet muscle, grinding oh-so-perfectly. The room is filled with soft words of encouragement, "that's it, doll," and "keep going for us!"

You feel bad that Jesse isn't receiving anything in return, so whilst sitting on his face, you begin unfastening his pants, eventually freeing his cock.

Oh, thank the Maker for those yummy Jango Fett genes.

Jesse is thick, leaking with precum, slightly red at the tip. If he's thick, then that means the rest of them are thick... you're in store for quite a treat.

With one hand barely wrapped around Jesse's cock, you begin pumping his already hard length, earning a whimper from the man beneath you. Your hips have slowed in pace, and Jesse urges you to speed up by grabbing your hips and moving them for you. He takes over, fucking you onto his face for a few moments before steadying your hips again, and wrapping his lips around your clit instead.

You yelp, pumping Jesse's cock faster, and he lets out a similar pleasant sound. Another hand appears on your body, and you peer over your shoulder to see Hardcase grabbing your ass, kneading at your cheeks, playing with them. "Got room for one more?" he questions, eyeing you up.

"Uh-huh," you say with a nod.

Hardcase flashes you a cheeky grin before moving his head down to kiss over your cheeks, lightly biting at each mound, moving from one cheek to the other. Every time it feels like he's getting close to your entrance, he moves across to the other cheek, teasing you with a smile on his lips. You're half tempted to push back onto his face, but he beats you to it by running his tongue over your rim, circling your entrance curiously.

Hardcase doesn't hold back, attacking your entrance with his tongue, his hands kneading at each cheek. Jesse continues flicking his tongue against your clit, and a hand is removed from your thigh; fingertips brush over your pussy, slicking themselves up, before a finger slides into you, not stopping until he reaches his knuckle.

Jesse slowly begins working you open, not that you need it much, considering your heavy arousal. Hardcase notices and takes the hint, wetting his finger in his mouth before pressing the pad against your entrance. He circles your ass a few times, relaxing the muscle, before slowly and gently pushing in. Unlike Jesse, Hardcase takes his time, working with your body to slowly open your ass up.

Your hand continues sloppily pumping Jesse's length, just enough to keep him satisfied; you want to do more, but your thoughts and feelings are already occupied. Just when you think you can't take any more, another clone comes into your line of sight, and asks you those exact words as he knees down in front of you.

"Can you take any more?" Kix questions, eyeing you up, reading your body language.

"Uh-huh," you nod once more, and Kix seems content with your approval.

He plants a light kiss on your lips before standing, and works on unfastening his pants, revealing yet another thick cock for your pleasure. You know exactly what Kix is after, so you open your mouth, awaiting him; he lets out a groan at the sight, and slips his cock past your lips, the underside brushing over your tongue.

Both of your hands are occupied, with one propping your weight up, and the other pumping Jesse; so, you make do with your mouth, sucking him to the best of your ability, and despite being slightly sloppy, Kix seems more than satisfied. He's an understanding man who can clearly see how busy you are.

And oh kriff, you sure are busy.

An orgasm is sitting on the fence, waiting for that final push. Jesse slips another finger into you, curling them and searching for that sweet spot. He knows he's found it when he overhears a muffled moan, and your moan seems to echo, as one of the clones groans at the sight of you. Hardcase removes his finger from your ass, slipping his tongue in and tongue-fucking your small gape, slicking you up so he can begin pushing two fingers in. Like before, he goes slow, understanding the stretch and burn that you're feeling right now.

Hardcase, within time, reaches his knuckles, and gently works his fingers in and out of you. That sensation, added with Jesse's fingers in you, and lips around your clit, is more than enough to have you cumming. You have to slip off Kix's cock to let out a shaky moan, thighs and body trembling as your orgasm takes you. Your forehead presses against Kix's thigh, eyes scrunched shut and mouth hanging open, and Kix soothes you by running his fingers through your hair, keeping it off your face.

You overhear Tup gasp, Dogma whine, and Fives cheer you on. "That's it, sweetheart," one of them encourages, but your mind is so hazy that you're not sure who it was. Either way, the words of encouragement are appreciated, as well as the soothing touches that Kix and Jesse are leaving over your body.

You soon come back around, still trembling from the intensity. Your eyes meet Kix's, who places a kiss on your forehead before settling down on the bunk beside you, muttering something about you having your hands full.

Curiously, you peer over your shoulder, and only then do you realize that Hardcase now has three fingers inside your ass. You're ready, and Hardcase flashes you a look that confirms it. "Wanna see what else we can do?" Hardcase questions, and you swiftly nod, accepting their advances.

Hardcase slowly slips his fingers from your ass, and works on removing his clothes. A kiss is planted on your inner thigh before Jesse gives you the signal to roll off, and you do so, letting the clone crawl out from beneath you. His face is soaked - no, drenched - and your juices have dribbled down over his chin, darkening the collar of his shirt.

"How do I look?" Jesse chuckles, before wiping his mouth and chin with his shirt sleeve. Taking Hardcase's idea, he too undresses, leaving you sat on your knees on his bunk.

Hardcase frees himself from his clothes first, and takes a seat beside you. He's about to get into position, until Fives calls out his protest. "You just had a go with her!" he whines.

"We'll be quick," Hardcase winks. He gets comfortable on the bunk, lying on his back, head pressed against the pillow. Hardcase makes a grabbing motion at you whilst mumbling "I want your ass," and with a laugh, you begin getting into position.

At first, you feel awkward and exposed, settling so your back is pressed to Hardcase's tattooed chest. He takes the lead, swinging your legs on either side of his, spreading you wide, and signalling for you to hold your hips up. Hardcase wraps his hand around the base of his cock and begins searching for your entrance, and with your help, he finds your ass.

"Go at your own pace, babe," Hardcase comments, and allows you to take your time sliding down onto his cock. Despite being prepped, Hardcase is still a stretch, slowly working your ass open. A mixture of groans fill the room as you slowly slide onto him, soon reaching his base, a gasp escaping your lips. "Beautiful," Hardcase comments, and reaches around to flick his fingers over your clit, attempting to help you relax.

"You ready for me?" Jesse questions, and all you can do is nod as nothing escapes your lips. Jesse shuffles up the bed, settling between your thighs. He slowly enters you, making a comment under his breath about how soaked your pussy is.

Jesse slides in with ease, holding his cock deep inside you, bottoming out. He awaits your signal before making a move, as does Hardcase, and when you give it, both the clones start slowly.

Your head rolls back to rest on Hardcase's shoulder, and the tattooed clone places a kiss on your temple before turning his focus to bucking up into your ass. Jesse's speed is slightly faster, considering he's in an easier position, and fucking a looser hole. Either way, you're full to the brim, moaning and groaning for them as Hardcase continues flicking his fingers over your clit.

"Kriff, doesn't she look good?" you overhear Kix comment.

Dogma follows up with, "if only you could see yourself, Commander."

Commander, Kriff. That status somehow slipped your mind - you're their Commander, their superior, and your men are currently watching you be fucked, whilst queueing up to take their turn with you. Let's hope your Jedi training has paid off, as you're going to need an extra stern poker-face the next time you're in their presence, or worse, in the presence of your Master.

Jesse, from the sounds that he's making, doesn't seem like he's going to last long. In his defense, you have been pumping his cock this entire time, despite your handiwork being somewhat sloppy. Hardcase's hand on your clit brushes over the perfect spot, causing you to clench in response, and that is more than enough to bring Jesse to orgasm.

"Where?" he manages to blurt out.

"Inside," you order, and every single clone in the room groans at your reply.

Jesse is about to ask if you're certain, but his body gives up before he can speak. Jesse slides his cock as deep as he can, and fills you up, panting and groaning as he releases. He's a debauched, a sweaty mess, possibly still drunk from earlier. Once he's somewhat stable, he slips his cock from you, slowly shuffling off the bed and collapsing on a nearby bunk.

Hardcase kisses your neck, as if to remind you that he's still there, or warning you, since he moves his hands to hold beneath your knees, pulling your knees up against your shoulders, and begins fucking up into your ass.

Your legs are spread, displayed for the other clones to watch as Hardcase ensures that you won't be able to walk for weeks. He's a grunting, sputtering mess beneath you, groaning into the curve of your neck as he chases his release.

A few more thrusts and Hardcase is finishing in your ass, holding your body tight against his as he leaves his mark. You're almost certain you heard a few whimpers from him, meaning his orgasm must have been intense. Eventually, a sweaty Hardcase begins slipping himself from you, being gentle as he rolls you off his chest.

Hardcase has barely removed himself off the bunk before another clone calls out "I'm next," and you look in the direction of the voice to see Dogma slipping his clothes off.

"Dogma? You?" Tup questions.

"Yeah, me!" he states, pointing a finger to himself.

"I didn't think you would," Tup shrugs, and in Tup's defence, you agree with him.

"I thought you'd be the type to tell on us," an exhausted Jesse comments, still laying back on a nearby bunk, spread out and panting heavily.

"Even if he did, I don't think anybody would believe him," Fives adds with a laugh.

"Stop being so mean to him, Troopers. Dogma is just as welcome as everybody else," you defend, and the clone thanks you with a smile.

"As welcome as everybody else?" Fives repeats your word. "Kriff, Commander, I didn't realize you were inviting the entire Legion!" he jokes, and you roll your eyes at Fives's comment, twisting your words cheekily.

You ignore Fives's playful remark, turning your attention to Dogma instead, who's just about finished removing his shirt. "How do you want me, handsome?" you question.

Dogma's eyes light up at your little nickname, and he orders you to "get on your front, hands and knees, and face the boys."

Orders are orders, and you follow them without question. Dogma shuffles in behind you, kneading your ass for a few moments before wrapping his hand around his cock. You're already slick enough, with your own release smeared around your thighs, and a release in both holes, so Dogma doesn't bother using his own spit to slick up his cock. Instead, he glides his cock over your pussy, ensuring the tip of his cock flicks over your clit with every thrust, and once he's satisfied, he begins pushing into your ass.

You let out an "oh," as Dogma slides in, letting out a grunt as he bottoms out. With his hands on your hips, and the signal from you to continue, Dogma begins fucking your ass, gawking over the sight of his cock disappearing and reappearing from you. "That's it," he mutters under his breath. "Kriff, you look so good for me."

"For us," Kix intervenes, and Dogma shoots him a grumpy glare.

Dogma is clearly trying to prove his vods wrong, showing them that he wants this, that he won't rat everybody out for breaking so many rules. His thrusts are heavy, the sound of your ass slapping against his pelvis fills up the room, pushing moans from your lips with every thrust. You can feel Hardcase's release slowly being pushed from your ass, settling around your rim, soon to be replaced with Dogmas.

You overhear someone shuffling about, and Kix soon appears in your line of sight. "I'm back," he says with a smile. "Care to continue where we left off?" Kix questions, and lets out a pleasant sigh when you nod in agreement.

This time, you have your hand free, and you wrap it around Kix's cock as the tip slips into your mouth. Dogma's not letting up his thrusts, pushing your head forwards with every roll of his hips, causing you to lightly gag on Kix's length. Kix seems to enjoy it, as do the viewers, and the sensation is alright for you; so, you continue, eventually letting Kix begin thrusting and fucking your mouth, his pace matching Dogmas.

Kix notices the lack of attention on your pussy, and leans forward, hand reaching out to dip beneath your body and help get you off, but Dogma swats his hand away. At first, you're insulted, as is Kix, until Dogma speaks up and explains his actions. "Let's see how long she can last without being touched," he cheekily states, and Kix flashes him a similar smile before looking down at you.

"Sorry, Commander. Orders are orders," Kix shrugs, and returns to fucking your mouth.

You let out a whine, as does Tup, who seems sympathetic at the lack of attention in your key areas. Fives, on the other hand, is hollering, "she won't last long. She'll be begging for it soon!"

Ugh, he's right. Despite already having an orgasm, you're chasing another, eager for that certain-something to help get you off. The more Dogma and Kix fuck you, the more your cunt burns, and when you try to remove your hand from Kix's cock, he wraps his hand around your wrist to prevent you from touching yourself, clicking his tongue with a disapproving "ah-ah!"

"Soon, sweetheart," Dogma says from behind you, and judging from the way his cock is twitching in your ass, you assume he's close.

Dogma picks up his pace, ruining your own pace on Kix's cock - or improving it, as Kix groans when you gag, spit pooling from the corners of your mouth. "So wet," Kix comments under his breath, and returns to fucking your mouth again, grunting and moaning with every thrust.

"Oh, Maker!" Dogma sighs as he pushes his cock as deep as it'll go. With his hands tightly around your hips, he earns his release, filling your ass with hot, sticky cum. Your moan is muffled from Kix's cock, who has slowed his thrusts, almost to a halt. Kix waits for Dogma to finish, and once he's slipped out, he manhandles you into a new position.

Kix rolls you onto your back, legs against the edge of the bed. He's clearly in a rush, his orgasm sitting on the edge, and he hurries to slide his cock into your pussy, one leg up on the bed, the other remaining on the floor.

Kix only thrusts a few times before bottoming out and cumming inside, his load mixing with Jesse's, who has finally perked up after passing out on another bunk. "Good girl," Kix mutters as the pad of his thumb presses to your clit, grinding in circles a few times. He's milking his release, slowly fucking you in a hazy post-orgasm state, biting his lip whenever you clench around his overstimulated cock.

When Kix can't take any more, he pulls out, and your clit is left unattended. You can feel his and Jesse's load leaking from you, and your eyes lock onto Tup, who was just eyeing up your cunt, his cheeks turning red at the sight of your sticky, cum soaked pussy.

"We're up, Tup!" Fives says with a laugh, patting his vod on the shoulder, snapping him out of his fixated state. Fives has the audacity to follow up his rhyme with finger guns, causing you to roll your eyes at the cheek of this man.

Tup lets out a "huh?" before realising that it's his turn to play with you. The pair are quick to strip off; Fives leaves his clothes strung over the floor, whilst Tup leaves his on his bunk. Just like the rest of your squad, they're hung, and your holes are already beginning to feel sore at the sight of them.

Fives motions for you to stand, and with extremely wobbly legs, you manage to get up, clinging onto Fives as you do so. "Tup, c'mere and help me out," Fives playfully orders, before turning his focus to you.

He bends down slightly, arms stretched out, and asks for you to wrap your legs around his waist. "Catch her if she falls, Tup," Fives comment, and you hear a soft "oh, kriff," from behind you.

Well, you don't fall. Your legs are wrapped around Fives's waist, hands around his neck, awaiting the next move. Five pauses, staring out into thin air, before realizing his mistake.

"Wait, I want to fuck your ass... Tup, you pick her up," Fives comments, and gently places you back down on the floor, only to spin you around so you're facing Tup instead.

"Idiot," Jesse mutters under his breath, and Fives glares at him over your shoulder.

Tup wraps his arms around your waist, and on his nod, you jump up into his lap. He moves your legs to wrap around his waist, ankles crossing over, and your hands trail up to settle on his shoulders, fingertips playing with his loose strands of hair. Tup, for some reason, is trembling, and you're uncertain if it's from your weight, or his nerves. A soothing kiss on his nose reveals that it's his nerves, as he begins to relax, and your weight is then shared between the two clones as Fives approaches you from behind.

Fives focuses on slipping his cock into your ass, before taking your weight off Tup, allowing him to slide up into your pussy. The pair bottom out, pulling you down onto their lengths, and find an even way to hold your weight, making it easier on everybody.

At first, the pair are an uneven, a sloppy mess, struggling to find the right rhythm. Despite their lack of sync, you're still enjoying yourself, but the second they finally sync up, it's game over. With your hands desperately clinging onto Tup's shoulders, you roll your head back against Fives's shoulder, moaning and groaning as the fuck you.

Tup lets out a sigh as he comments "you're so good for us," his hands kneading at your thighs around his waist.

"Isn't she just?" Fives smirks, and his hands on your ass give you a squeeze. "Poor Tup here looks like he's going to cum already," Fives bites at his vod, and Tup sends him a disappointed glare.

"Play nice, you two," you softly order, not wanting to be stuck in the middle of their play fight.

They let out a "yes, Commander," as their thrusts continue, the sound of synced up skin against skin echoing around the dorm room.

However, the sound of the door opening makes everybody jump out of their skin, and you all turn with wide eyes to see none other than Captain Rex entering the room. Fives and Tup come to a halt, Jesse sits up on his bunk, and everybody awaits Rex's move.

Rex, with a stern expression, reaches a hand out to press the lock button on the dorms' door. "You forgot to lock it," he states, then tuts and shakes his head, scolding his men for their sloppiness.

Rex is still in uniform, his helmet tucked under his arm. The sound of heavy footsteps slowly approaches you, Tup, and Fives, and all three of you watch as Rex comes to a halt in front of you. You gulp, despite being a higher ranking than Rex, and despite knowing that he is also in on this.

The expression Rex gives you sends a shiver down your spine; he raises a single brow, slowly eyeing all of you up and down, before his lips finally trail into a smirk. A gloved hand reaches out and finds its way between your legs, instantly settling over your clit. Rex begins to slowly rub your clit, the fabric of his gloves giving you that something extra, and he speaks up in his usual, bold, military tone.

"You've got to play with her as you're fucking her, boys," Rex states, smirking as he notices everybody's expressions drop, letting out sighs of relief. "How is she meant to cum if you're not focusing on the right areas?" Rex questions, and gestures for his men to pick up their pace again.

Fives and Tup begin bucking up into you again, still slightly nervous, but lust soon takes over and evens them out. Rex turns his full attention to you, and the deepness of his voice makes your pussy clench. "Have these men served you well?" he questions.

"They have," you mutter, nodding as you speak, eager to express your fondness.

"That's good to hear, Commander," the Captain smirks. His eyes stay glued to yours, and you can't bare to look away. His fingers are working wonders on your clit, and the sensation of Fives and Tup tending to you is swiftly becoming too much. Your breaths become quick and short, and your eyes struggle to stay open. Rex takes not and announces, "she's close, boys."

"Go on, show off for Rex," Fives says against your ear, and Tup nods along in agreement. A few more thrusts and you're clenching around their cocks, both men grunting and moaning as you up their sensation. Rex doesn't stop playing with your clit, at first, until your thighs begin to twitch from overstimulation; only then does he pull away, taking a step back and settling his hands on his hips after placing his helmet down on a nearby bunk.

Tup lets out a whine, and you can feel his cock twitching inside you. "Good boy, Tup," you direct your praise to him, and that alone is enough to make him cum. Tup buries his head into the curve of your neck, groaning against your skin as his load joins the others inside you, most of it oozing out past his cock and dripping to the floor.

"Kriff, guess it's my turn," Fives comments with a light laugh. He buries his head into your other shoulder, kissing and nipping at your skin as he continues fucking your ass. It doesn't take long for Fives to also cum, burying his length up to the base, and groaning when you twitch from overstimulation. "So karking good," Fives mutters, and repeats his compliment as he lifts his head off your shoulder, before kissing your cheek.

Slowly and steadily, the pair lower you, avoiding the slippy patches of cum on the floor that has dripped from both your holes. You're debauched, exhausted in every aspect, and undeniably cock-dumb as Rex approaches and asks "got room for your Captain?"

"Always," you steadily sigh. Rex chuckles at your eagerness, then gestures for you to get comfortable on a bunk.

You pick Jesse's bunk, seeing as it's already a mess, plus it's in the centre of everybody's line of sight. Knowing Rex, he'll want to make a show of this, turning it into some training exercise as a way of covering up what is really going on here.

You sit back on the bed, falling back onto your elbows, and watch as Rex approaches. He unfastens his codpiece, discarding it onto a nearby bunk, and pulls his semi-hard cock out from beneath his blacks. The Captain is clean-shaven, thick and girthy, another cock to add onto your 'reasons why I can't walk this week' list.

Rex slips his gloves off before pumping himself with one hand, the other reaching down to trail over your overly sensitive cunt. Gentle fingertips slide over your wet folds, and Rex spreads you apart, revealing the sticky mess leaking from your entrance. "I see they've been keeping you full," Rex comments as his fingers trail up to glide over your clit, pressing firmly and flicking over the bud.

"Very full," you nod along. Your eyes flick to Rex's cock, which is now hard, precum leaking like crazy. Rex notices the way you're looking at his length, and he stops pumping his shaft, holding at the base instead, as if to present it.

"Is this what you want?" he teasingly questions, causing you to shudder.

"Yes, Captain," you nod, and Rex lets out a satisfied sigh.

"Place the order, Commander," Rex orders in his own way.

You lick your lips, followed by clearing your throat, and keep your eyes locked onto your Captains as you state "your orders are to fuck me, Captain."

"Yes, Ma'am."

You overhear a handful of men groan at your tone of voice, no doubt working themselves up again. "I'll show you boys how it's done," Rex says with a smug laugh as he moves both of his hands to your knees, and slowly pushes them up until they're almost pressing your shoulders, folding your body in half. He keeps one hand on your knee, the other holding the base of his cock as he begins slipping into you.

It isn't until you feel cold plastoid pressing against your body that you realize he's still in uniform.

Rex is fucking you with his armour on? Oh.

The sound that Rex lets out as he bottoms out is one that will forever play on repeat in the back of your mind. He holds himself there, scrunching his eyes shut as he regains focus, enticed by how wet and warm you feel. Once Rex has evened out, he begins thrusting into you, and oh Kriff, this man does not hold back.

With your body folded in half, Rex is able to drive his cock even deeper, his tip brushing over your g-spot with every thrust. Your legs find their way around his upper back, ankles locking over each other, and to encourage Rex, you press your heel against his back, urging him to give you all he's got. Rex's eyes meet yours, a single brow raised, and he makes a brief comment about how needy you are.

You're already a babbling mess, and Rex has only just begun! No doubt, you'll pass out the second he's finished with you, but your men are here to pick up the pieces, labelling you as a war hero for helping them during such desperate times.

"How're you doing, sweetheart?" Rex questions, affectionate eyes locking onto your half-lidded ones.

"G-good," is all you can reply, and Rex chuckles at your cock-dumb mentality.

When words fail, actions speak, and Rex dips his head down to introduce his lips to yours. Despite his heavy thrusts, the kiss is steady, adding to your overstimulation. You've always been fond of your Captain, but you could never quite put your finger on why; now you've got it - it's because he fucks so kriffing good!

As the kiss breaks, you reach around Rex's neck, hands clasping onto his back, attempting to rake your nails into his slippery armour. Rex lets out a soft laugh before kissing along your neck, leaving his mark below where your Jedi robes sit - what a smart man.

"Rex, I'm-" you blurt out.

"I know, sweetheart," Rex replies in a soothing voice, only for his tone to turn stern as he questions "you're going to cum for me, aren't you, Commander?"

Your reply can't seem to leave your lips, so you nod in response. Rex chuckles at your desperation, and to your surprise, he stops what he's doing. His thrusts come to a sharp halt, and he quickly slips his cock from you, leaving you with your mouth hanging open.

Just as you're about to question what he's doing, as are the other clones, he sits on the end of the bed beside you and slips two fingers into your cunt, instantly curling them and fucking you where he left off.

Rex clearly knows something you don't, but you allow him to take the ropes, especially as your orgasm is on the edge. There's a strange sensation in your gut, something you haven't quiet felt before, and judging from the way it's growing with Rex's movements, you assume you'll soon find out.

"Watch and learn, boys," Rex states, but keeps his eyes focused, locked onto yours.

You're putty in his grasp, mewling on the bed, not bothering to hold back on your moans. You're about to cum, any second now, but that foreign sensation takes over instead. Suddenly, everything becomes too much, especially Rex's fingers hitting that soft spot inside you over and over. You yelp as something takes over your body, an orgasm of some kind; on shaky elbows, you rush to prop yourself up, gazing down to watch in amazement as you squirt all over your Captain's arm, the liquid coating his plastoid armour.

"Good girl," Rex coos through gritted teeth, repeating the praise, but doesn't let up just yet. Kriff, you're screaming, even with your hand over your mouth. You fall back onto the bed, clawing at the sheets as this orgasm lasts longer than usual.

Even after you squirt, Rex continues fucking you with his fingers, as if to ensure that you're empty. He eventually calms down, and only then does your volume begin to drop, revealing the vast amount of praise from your troopers.

"That was beautiful, Commander!" Fives calls out.

"Kriff, she's shaking," you overhear Tup comment.

Jesse whines "my karking bed is soaked..." under his breath, which makes you smile to yourself. He was the one to suggest his bed, so he can lie in his wet grave!

A gentle stroke of your hair makes you open your eyes, only to meet Kix, who's gazing down at you. "Are you alright?" he questions.

"Uh-huh," you lazily nod, and he smiles at your exhaustion. Kix slowly props you up, letting you fall back against him. Your eyes trail to Rex, who looks almost as tired as you do. He's wiping something off his thigh, and if your calculations are correct, his thigh was out of your splash zone.

"Did you cum?" you ask Rex, who looks up at you with a tired smile. He nods in confirmation.

"Untouched," Rex states, and you take pride in making him cum in such a way.

You have a sudden burst of energy, and use it to lean forwards and thank your Captain with a kiss. Rex smiles against your lips before playfully nipping at your bottom lip, earning a sarcastic comment of "get a room!" from Jesse.

"I think we should get you into the refresher instead," Rex comments as he breaks the kiss.

"As good as that sounds, I can't walk," you sigh, and attempt to gesture to your jelly-like body, only for your arms to flap about and fall flat at your sides.

Rex laughs at your exhaustion, then informs you that he'll run you a bath instead. You look at him with a surprised expression, to which he states "I know, I wasn't expecting the GAR to treat us to baths, either."

Rex leaves you in the company of Kix, who begins checking over your body whilst asking you over and over if you're alright.

------

A nice, hot bath doesn't take long for Rex to run. Hardcase, now in his blacks, with caution, picks you up and carries you to the dorms' refresher. He's extra gentle as he places your feet on the tile floor, keeping his arm around your waist to steady yourself as you slowly enter the bath.

Hardcase steals a kiss from you, muttering "thanks for tonight, Commander," against your lips before leaving you to it.

Kix enters the second Hardcase exits, bringing you a glass of water and a certain prevention pill. "Let me know if you need anything," he informs you before kissing your forehead and leaving you to relax.

Only for Fives to come barrelling in, instantly blabbering on about how good you were. "I always assumed you'd be quite the slut, but... well, I wasn't expecting that," Fives playfully jabs, and insists that "we should all do it again some time!"

Dogma peers his head around the door and barks at Fives to leave you alone, but the second he shoos Fives out, he replaces the emptiness with himself instead. "Eh, Fives is right," Dogma comments, referring to Fives statement. "But don't tell him I said that," he grumbles as he steals a kiss from you.

You stretch back in the bath, enjoying the GAR assigned bubbles, and just when you think you're alone, Tup appears. "I don't want to smother you..." he sheepishly comments, "but I wanted to thank you for tonight." You can't help but laugh at Tup's kind demeanour, and the smile remains on your lips as Tup offers you a massage.

You accept, under the cheeky condition that Tup joins you in the bath. His cheeks turn pink at your suggestion, and continue turning pink the more he undresses. Tup even attempts to cover himself up as he settles in the bath with you, making you giggle once more.

Tup has your back resting against his chest, tenderly burying his fingertips into your damp skin, softening out those tight areas. You overhear commotion outside, and both of you laugh as it unfolds.

"No fair! Tup's in there having another round with her!" Fives protests, his voice thudding through the thickness of the refresher door.

"Leave her alone, Fives. She's a free woman, she can do what she wants!" Somebody defends, and you're almost certain it's Dogma.

"They're just cuddling, leave them alone," Rex intervenes, and you know it's Rex from his firmness and slight difference in tone.

Following the Captain's orders, you and Tup are left to it, cuddling and lazily washing each other. Once the water turns cold, you both make your exit, drying yourselves off and gawking when Tup lets down his hair, only to refasten it into another, fresh manbun.

A pair of blacks has been left for you on the side, and despite them being a little big, they still fit snugly. As you exit the refresher, the first thing you notice is that Jesse's bed has been completely stripped, bedding in the wash. The dorm is clean, and your clothes and bag have been folded and placed on Jesse's empty bed.

"I guess I'm staying the night," you comment, and gesture to ask who you're bundling up with.

Before anyone can get a word in, the Captain speaks up. "I missed out on most of the night, so I'd like to catch up with you."

You're unsure if 'catch up' means have a chat, or wake up to find Rex spoon-fucking you, but either way, you're down. With a nod of confirmation, you begin settling in for the night, curling up in Rex's bunk as he continues changing from his armour into a fresh pair of blacks to sleep in.

"Wait a minute," Jesse intervenes. "Where am I sleeping?" he questions, setting his hands on his hips with frustration.

"You can go give Tup a cuddle, he loves them, apparently," Fives maliciously comments, sending playful, yet bold daggers at his vod.

"Ah, leave Tup alone," Dogma defends him.

Before Fives can take another jab, Hardcase barks up with "we can spoon!" And Jesse doesn't look too pleased at his suggestion.

"You can join us, Jesse," Rex disgruntledly states.

"You do know these beds are singles, right?" Jesse states as he gestures to the small, single beds, barely big enough for one clone, let alone two, and you.

"Yes, but from what I've seen, the Commander likes it when she has a clone pressed up on either side of her," Rex teases, side-eyeing you as he comments.

An array of laugher fills the air, and Jesse nods in agreement. You remain quiet, as there's no point denying something that is blatantly true!

The lights are soon turned out, and the boys take it in turns to say goodnight to each other. In the dark, you feel Rex join you, manhandling you into position. Your head finds Rex's chest, an arm sprawled out underneath your neck, and your arm wraps around Rex's waist. Jesse then joins, and since your back is free, he decides to spoon you, trapping you perfectly in your 501st sandwich. Before falling asleep, you make a minor comment to Rex, as if to apologize for him not being there tonight. "We'll make sure you come with us next time," you quietly comment, referring to 79's, the venue that lead you here.

Jesse chuckles before mentioning how wild the night went. "You should have seen her, Captain. She's the sluttiest woman in the galaxy, grinding on Hardcase whilst making out with me," Jesse explains, and you lightly elbow him in the ribs for leaking so much information. A few men can be heard giggling in their bunks, if only you could elbow them too.

"Oh really?" Rex responds, his pitch heightening him as he asks. "Well, I'll definitely be there next time, and I'll ensure that I make up for my lack of presence," Rex promises, and knowing Rex, this is a promise he'll keep.

"I can't wait," you reply, softly yawning against Rex's chest.

"Neither can I," Fives comments from across the dorm, earning a giggle from Hardcase.

"Alright, men. That's enough. Go to sleep," Rex orders.

"Yeah, Captain's orders," you playfully comment, earning yet another sea of giggles.

Within time, the bunch calm down, and the air is soon graced with the soothing sounds of snoring clones. It doesn't take long for you to fall asleep, as your exhausted body is begging for some rest. You doze off, sandwiched snugly between an ARC Trooper and the Captain of the 501st.

What a dream!!!!

1K notes · View notes

venenatd · 4 years ago

Text

just friends; eren jaegar x reader

summary: you and eren are best pals and have both recently be dumped. so, a plan to get over your exes is needed! what’s better than going out on the town trying to find quick fucks >:) also eren is a smug bastard but kinda has a heart of gold??

content: smut / nsfw 18+. minors dni. (choking, unprotected sex, creampie drinking, drunk sex, possessiveness ig? dirty talk, both of them want to be dominant tbh. slight size kink, oral both m and f receiving. female bodied reader)

i am new to this pls let me know if i should add anything!!

word count: 5.8k words of unedited content

a/n: uh so i never thought i’d be back on my tumblr bullshit at 23 but hey after years without the app i’m back. i needed to get out the h-word and this is what happened. enjoy and i’m sorry if it’s terrible lmao

“You look different”

Frowning at the man waiting ever so patiently for you on the sofa, you look a little defeated. “Is that meant to be a compliment, Eren?”. He sighed, raising his eyebrows at you. To be fair, maybe you did. Wearing a figure hugging black dress, that definitely just hid your ass cheeks, hair styled and sprayed in place, dark lipstick and makeup on your face. Usually Eren would have seen you in sweats, always running a little late for class, snack in hand.

“Different isn’t bad,” he offered, checking the watch that lay on his wrist, “are we ever going to get to the bar? Your plan will fall through if you’re not careful.”

Ah, the plan. Both you and Eren were newly single. In your final year at university, having managed to keep each relationship going until almost the end. Ironic. Weren’t most meant to fail in the first year? But alas, your partners had decided it was the end within a couple of weeks each other, and as you and Eren had been close since you met on orientation day, you each took to the other for comfort. You had done the crying first, going to him the minute your call with the ex had ended. Leaving wet splotches on his shirt, he had calmed you, only for you to do the same to him later. Now the crying was done, it was time to move on, and what better advice to follow than getting under someone to get over another?

“I just need to look hot enough for a guy to fuck me.”

“What a romantic you are.”

“Shut up Er-”

Eren shifted from the couch, interrupting your usual sass, “and what about me, y/n? Do I look beautiful?”. He threw in a wink with his comment, his aura of cockiness always radiating. You rolled your eyes, before studying his figure. His dark hair half pulled back into a bun, the rest draping his neck and onto a deep emerald green silk shirt, with the top few buttons loose, tucked into dark pants. A ring on each hand, fingers with chipping black nail polish, and to top it off, a thin chain on his neck. You hated to admit it and add to his smug demeanour but... the man did look good.

“Gorgeous as always Eren,” you said sarcastically, even if it was truthful, “I’m sure there will be a queue of women who are wanting to jump on you.”

“Not if they aren’t all taken already,” he taps at his watch. Whilst the two of you had already been drinking as he waited for you to get ready, it was definitely on the later side.

“Order the uber, and we can go.”

Walking over to him and adding shoes to your outfit, you present yourself before him, a cute little smile playing on your lips. He’s staring down at his phone, quickly going through the motions for the ride. Finally, he looks up to catch your eyes. His jade pupils flick down slightly, and he hopes you miss that they land at the cleavage you’re sporting in your current get up. He flicks your nose, earning a scowl from you and a smile from him.

“You look perfect”

The club is far fuller than you both expected, dance floor and tables taken up and crowded round. Luckily, you had managed to secure you and Eren a pair of seats at the bar, and you were currently on your third..? Fourth drink of the evening. Green eyes watch your lips carefully, as you finish the vodka and lemonade.

“So, anyone take your fancy?” he prompts, looking around at the mess of people.

Humming, you scan the area. There’s some people you recognise from class, but plenty more you don’t know. Fucking friends seems like a bad move, even in your tipsy state, so you look to the strangers faces. They don’t look like him. Ugh.

There’s a few options though, and as you point them out to Eren they come with brief descriptors: dark hair and stubble, wide set blonde. He tuts at the options, sarcastically letting out a “sure sure, I see the appeal”.

“And how about you, anyone you like the look of?” you ask with a sigh.

Christ, Eren thinks to himself. It’s been long enough that he hasn’t had to look for someone else. Sure there were attractive people in the world, but with her around, he hadn’t needed to give anyone else a second look. His palm moves to the back of his neck, stretching out behind him with a huff. “Let’s look on the dance floor?” he offers, clearly not as eager as you were tonight. Moving his hand back down, he holds it out for you, pulling towards the throng of people.

He looks effervescently cool like this. Shirt open, hair starting to fall from his bun. Eren is looking around at the people surrounding the two of you. The two of you had been working in circles, allowing each other an eyeful as the club goers move around the space. As a group of guys push their way from the dance floor to the bar, you get shoved towards Eren. Heels were never quite your forte, and you stumble against him, hands on either side of his chest. Grinning down at you with that smug little smile that annoyed you so much, Eren brought large hands to your waist, pushing you away a little. But his hands stay there as he continues to sway to the music, making no effort to break the contact. And so you bring your arms up to his neck, allowing his movements to carry you on time to the song. For the first time in the past couple of weeks, you feel light. Your chest isn’t constricted by some foreign weight. It’s just you and your best friend, buzzed and free.

Colours change above you, as you look up to Eren, him down to you. A playful grin takes his lips as he pulls you a little closer, you so easily accepting the narrowing distance. Your black silk meets his deep green, chest pushing into his. You carefully analyse his features, seeing if he attempts to check you out like earlier.

Was it the alcohol making your cheeks so warm? Lit up by a purple hue, you watch his eyes return to exploring the crowd, his hand still holding on to you. His smirk falters, his eyebrows creasing together. You’re not moving in circles anymore, Eren pausing in his movements as he thinks about what to do next. He shouldn’t lie to you, but seeing your ex at the bar would really harsh the night. Under his fingers, he can feel your body tense, suddenly unsure at how close the contact between you was.

But Eren doesn’t want you to know, he doesn’t want you to be distracted by your ex tonight. He doesn’t want to see your hurt little face anymore. The way your eyes would be red and puffy the next day. The way he would feel your shoulders heaving under his arms. You don’t deserve that. Hell, you didn’t deserve the huge amount of shit your ex had put you through over the years he’d known you. Eren would sit back and listen to you rant, support you where he could. But fuck that guy. And he wasn’t sure what sparked in his chest, but Eren’s jade orbs are trained straight back on you. His eyebrows calm, tension releasing from them. As you can turn to scope out whatever had changed his body language so suddenly, he catches your jaw.

Beginning to slowly move again, his eyes have narrowed, taking in the way the dress hugs you, the shine on your skin from the hot dance floor. Eren couldn’t quite figure out what was intoxicating him right now. Definitely a lot of alcohol, but also a sudden… possessiveness. He didn’t want you in pain anymore. Eren wanted you in pleasure. His breath is suddenly on your neck, making your hair raise.

“I’ve only seen one person I’m interested in tonight.”

“Oh?” you squeak, before clearing your throat a little. The new deep notes in his voice catch you off guard. It almost sounds like he’s… No. He’s your best friend. The little looks you’d been giving each other all night were just two people looking out for one another, two people seeing each other happy for the first time in a while. Your voice is calmer as you ask light-heartedly, “and who would that be?”

His lips are so close to your ear.

“You.”

“Eren-” your hands move from behind his neck, resting on his shoulders. You need to see your best friend's face, you need to know if he’s joking right now. If he’s mocking you. When you draw back, you see his face. Smug, as always. Fuck you’ve always wanted to knock that cockiness down a peg. Cheshire smile showing his teeth and his eyes looking down at you. Half lidded eyes, pupils blown. He’s not joking. Fuck.

“Can I kiss you?”

Your breath is caught in your throat. All too aware suddenly of each of his finger pads pressing into your skin, the contact feeling like fire with the added alcohol. But, you find yourself nodding, the yes just escaping your lips before he’s pressed into them.

Large hands travel to your hip, and up your back, pressing you into him. You can feel his body, tense in exhilaration against you, hands back around his neck. One travels up to the nape of his back, tangling into his hair and pulling him deeper into you. The music is all consuming, you can feel the bass in your body, you can feel Eren against you, you can feel the adrenaline coursing through your veins.

Eren’s hand on your back travels up, echoing your placement on him, to hold the back of your neck. He doesn’t want you to go, you feel too good. The heat between your bodies could suffocate him. His thumb puts pressure under your jaw, he isn’t even sure you can feel it. But he can, measuring your pulse racing underneath the pad. He’s smiling into this kiss, this all consuming kiss.

His tongue swipes at your bottom lip, and you’re all too eager to allow him into your mouth. Tasting the whisky from your home, tasting the coke from the club. His teeth take your lip nipping slightly, before sucking the plump of it into his mouth. You both come up for air, eyes meeting in acknowledgment of the situation.

“Wanna get out of here?”

The drive home had only served to heap tension between you. As clearly that it was that you wanted each other, you would have to wait a while longer. Your thighs pressed together, slowly inhaling and exhaling. Going through your mind was whether this was a good idea, staring out at the city passing by you. Eren was your friend. You were dating another man two weeks ago. The same man that had previously asked you if he needed to be worried about Eren. You’d laughed it off, because it was Eren. You were brought out of your thoughts when you felt him grip your leg, a little too harshly at first, before settling, leaving a gentle pattern of circles and lines on your inner thigh. It was Eren.

Just one hallway. You had to make it one hallway to get into your apartment. One hallway left to come to your senses. And just like he read your mind, Eren is once again touching you, just his hand on yours pulling you backwards. You twist just in time, his hands instantly cupping your cheeks as he kisses you, deeply and intensely. Pushing you back into the wall, you pray a neighbour doesn’t walk out now. His knee is pressing gently between your legs, and you allow it. Your fingers sink into Eren’s arms, lightly covered by the fabric yet you can still feel the muscle underneath, relaxing and tensing as he pulls you closer.

His lips are making their way to your jaw, lifting your chin upwards, tentatively licking the bone before moving downwards still, sucking and nipping and licking your neck. A whimper breaks through. You really need to get inside. Gripping his hair, you sharply pull backwards.

“Not going to play nice, huh?”

When did he speak like this? The playful and shit-eating grin your friend Eren always wore was replaced by something darker, his words laced with intent.

“Don’t challenge me.”

You were off, finally at your door, making quick work with the lock, moving in first before he followed. The door shut as you pushed Eren against it, usual doe eyes being taken over with a deep lust. Your hands are instantly at his belt, as his hands find your face once again. This time he’s grabbing your hair, making you look up at him as he glares down at you. You’re constantly challenging one another in conversation, and it’s translating to the bedroom far too easily.

Lips are on one another again, as you leave the belt and start towards his shirt. You bite down on his bottom lip, earning a hiss from him, and you feel his hand being brought around your throat. He doesn’t add too much pressure, checking if this turn is indeed okay with you. When you push against the weight, he takes the gleam in your eye as a yes, and uses the force to push you against the next wall, finally moving off the front door.

It’s a constant battle to get to the bedroom, both of you taking control for short bursts. Eren pulling the thin straps of your dress down, you untucking his shirt. His muscular torso is on full display, and you had never viewed it in this light before.

Finally he pushes you onto the bed, situating himself between your legs. Your kisses are sloppy and infused with alcohol. Hands are desperate with one another, both of you needing to be closer. Are you scared if the contact ends your thoughts will return to sanity?

Eren’s hot and heavy over you, his hands seem everywhere at once. Smoothing up your thigh, digging in slightly to the flesh when you grind against one another. His hands rest at your hips for a moment, and he’s looking down at you, still fucking smiling. All at once, he’s flipped you over his prominent hard on pressing into your ass. He’s whispering in your ear, leaving wet kisses along your neck, to your shoulder blades. Fingers take the zip at the back of your dress, slowly and carefully pulling it down, leaving licks and pecks as he goes. It’s torturous.

You attempt to speed things up by rutting your ass against his crotch, and you think you hear a quiet moan, before his hand is brought down to the fabric, smacking your cheek. You gasp, turning your head to look at him. Eren is too occupied in taking in all of your body, his green eyes are darkened with authority and lust. His nimble fingers play with the short hem of your dress, thumb dipping beneath, before he pushes the silk up.

You both let out soft fuck’s, as his hands grab at the plump of your ass. It’s like he’s testing the softness, the way your flesh responds to his touch so easily. He slaps at you again, earning a sharp moan from you. Eren’s leaning down, his mouth once again trailing across the apex of your behind, leaving trails of saliva as he goes. Before you can even register the new sensations you can feel a soft pressure against your clothed cunt, just enough to let you know the presence of his hand, but not enough for you to get off on. You’re mewling, once again trying to get closer to him. This time he allows it, eagerly pressing his ring and middle finger to your clit, allowing you to grind upon them.

Seeing you underneath him like this… it’s new and strange and so fucking hot. He’s watching you desperately try and fill the need building in your core, and he can only feel his cock twitch in his pants as he sees you coming undone. If you wanted more, he could definitely give it to you. Bringing his large hands away, to the flimsy fabric that was covering you, he pulls it down, exposing you to him. His heart and dick fucking jump. His hands return to your ass, watching the jiggle as you move and whimper. Spreading you, he brings his face down, breath tingling on your most sensitive areas.

Your breath catches in your throat as his tongue, gentle at first, licks between your folds. He’s tasting you, he’s moaning into your pussy, as you write beneath him. Eren’s hands are squeezing your ass cheeks, holding you still as you try to grind against his face.

“Patience, y/n”, he says, with a slap on your behind again.

“Fuck you,” you hiss.

“You will be in a minute, baby girl, don’t worry.”

You go to make a retort but he’s instantly back, licking up your slit and a deep moan escapes you. Jesus you can feel the smile on his lips as he’s back on your pussy. Eren is so proud of the sounds he can draw from you. He wonders if your ex could make you come undone so easily.

You taste sweet and saccharine on him, and he doesn’t hold back the groan as he further works his way into you. Hardened tongue moving it’s way from your entrance down to your clit. He swipes at it, before moving away again. Kissing your thighs, kissing the skin between your holes. Every now and then he’ll move back to your clit, allowing you a moment of pleasure before he’s teasing again. “Fuck, please”. Your whines are being smothered by the sheets, and Eren wants nothing more than to hear them, loud and clear.

Eren’s ringed fingers make their way to your hair, his face lifting from between your legs. He pulls you back round, and holy shit you can see how wet you are on his face. There’s a sheen to his lips and chin, and instinctively you reach up to his neck, pulling him back on top of you. Your tongue meets his, tasting your tartness on his mouth. A hand makes it way back down in between your thighs, playing and parting your folds. Your hand in turn reaches up his neck, pulling sharply at his hair once again. “Eren. More- please” you get out in between staggered breaths.

“Aw, since you asked so nicely” his eyes watch your expression closely as his thumb rests on your clit, his finger swiftly moving inside you. Your eyebrows raise and knot, eyes wide and lips parted. But he keeps it still as your legs shaked around his arm. “Eren, move” you demand this time.

“Oh, that’s not so nice. I liked it when you were polite.” He starts to retract his finger, thumb gently swabbing your clit so you’ll know what you miss.

“Please, please, please, Eren, please” you speak before he even gets the first knuckle out. All the teasing was creating a tightness in your lower stomach.

“Much better.”

You whine as he continues to pull his finger from you, until he pushes it back in, curling his solitary finger up. Your fingernails are pressing deep into the muscle of his bicep, feeling how it moves as he finger fucks you. He’s hitting that perfect spot inside you again and again, and his thumb is swiping eagerly on your clit.

Eren can feel you fluttering around his finger, desperate for more, desperate to release on him. He adds another finger, your wetness allowing him entrance easily. He wants to fuck you so bad, his cock so hard it felt like it was about to burst.

He pushes your hands off him, leaving crescent moon indents deep in his skin, he works his way back down. He brings the black silk with him this time, fully being able to take in your body as you’re left naked before him. Holy shit you’re beautiful. He doesn’t want to stare too long and make you shy. But he still kisses his way down, before he’s back at your pussy.

This time he allows you more movement, letting your fingers work their way back into his hair, letting you roll your hips against his tongue and stubble.

With his spare hand he pulls out his cock, slowly pulling at it, before he realises he can’t do that for too long without cumming before the main event. Instead he reaches up, rolling your perked nipples in between his fingers. There are so many sensations on your body, and Eren can feel your cunt beginning to tighten around his fingers. You hold your breath before letting out little moans, building towards reaching your height.

“You want to cum on my fingers?

Your back is arching, whispering “yes, yes, yes, please” as your walls are tightening around him. He quickens the pace, making sure to hit that spot inside you over and over. Thighs around his face, he can feel your slick pooling in his mouth, and coating his chin once again.

Your gummy walls are so tight around his thick fingers, he needs you to finish, watch you fully unravel below him. Sucking and licking at your clit, he’s pushing you towards the edge.

“Eren-” his name is strangled coming out of you, and then your moaning, undulating your cunt against his mouth, riding out your orgasm.

His jade eyes look up at you, watching as you pull your head up to look at him, before another wave of pleasure hits you and you have to arch your neck and look back up. He waits for you to come down, letting you fuck his face and fingers. Grinding against his stubble and tongue as you let out pitiful and beautiful moans. You’re so fucking wet, the sounds coming from between the two of you should be forbidden, as you release onto him.

Finally he withdraws, using his forearm to wipe his face. He lies next to you, allowing you a moment as he draws little circles on your stomach. Eren has never quite looked at you in this light. Sure, you were pretty, and the two of you were obviously close. But now you’d walked a line that couldn’t be undone. You weren’t over your ex, and as okay as Eren was with what had happened between you, he didn’t want you to run. He’s overcome with thoughts, looking down to your chest and the heavy breaths you were taking. All he could pray was that you weren’t pretending he was someone else.

But as Eren is getting caught up in his own mind, you’re twisting, hand reaching to his crotch, cock having been recaptured by his boxers. Palming him, you feel how big he really is for the first time. Fingers trace the edge of his pants and underwear, and he lifts his hips, allowing you to pull them down. Shit. His dick slapped back to his stomach, precum leaking from the top of his pink head. He was bigger than you’d imagined, because of course you’d imagined it a couple of times.

Your hand looks so small around his cock, but you slowly tease him, his deep green orbs following your movements. Bringing your head down to him, you kitten lick the precum from the top of his dick. He hisses gently, and you look up at him with these big doe eyes, so fucking eager to please.

You push your lips around him, hollowing your cheeks and flattening your tongue as you begin working along his shaft. He moans just at the sight of you, your eyes peeking up through dark lashes. His hand goes through your hair, eagerly pushing you deeper around him.

He lets out a hoarse, “is this okay?” before you put your own hand on his pushing it for the both of you. You don’t even want to come up for air, you just want him close to you, inside you.

You were learning far more about each other than you had expected, as Eren takes back over. He pushes himself further into you, muttering a good girl that has you whining. The vibrations around his cock make his hips buck, and now you’re gagging as his length hits the back of your throat. He holds you there instead of letting you off, and your nails are sharp against his thighs.

His head lolls back as he starts to move his hips under you, moving you in turn with your hair. He picks up the pace quickly, allowing saliva to drool from you and straight to his cock.

Your eyes prick, big fat tears forming at the corners. But you’re enjoying this way too much, the moans and gasps he gives make you moan, pressing your thighs together for some kind of friction.

He takes your jaw in his grasp, allowing you a moment to catch your breath. Your tongue sits out your mouth, him smacking the head of his dick on it. He notices your tears then, the mascara that’s running a little. He swipes at the corner of your eyes, leaning down to press a kiss into your forehead.

Bringing you up to him, your dripping folds sliding across his length. His lips are on your cheeks, across your jaw, licking up your neck before reclaiming your plush lips once again. You continue grinding against one another, tongues slipping in and out of each other's mouths. Eventually Eren brings his hands to your hips, lifting you up as you hold his shaft up.

Your foreheads are pressed together as he slowly pushes inside you. The stretch is burning and all-consuming, eyes pricking up again as you feel him hit your furthest wall. Eren breathes out heavily, “So fucking tight”

You roll your hips, allowing some friction from him on your clit. It helps your muscles relax a little, and balancing your hands on his shoulders you push yourself up and down, using his length for your own pleasure. Eren’s eyes don’t leave your form, watching your breasts bounce and how your eyes flutter close as he fills you entirely.

“You really did want to be fucked, huh? Look at you” he teases you, watching as you go to talk back before he thrusts his hips up. It leaves the words caught in your throat.

His pace maintains, holding you in place as he fucks up into you, feeling your cunt clench around him. There are long moments where you hold your breath, holding his cock tight within you. Then you’ll release and moan, before holding it in again. Well, Eren is all too happy to help you with that.

One hand grabbing the flesh of your hip, the other wrapping around your throat, he pushes into you at a punishing rate. Your eyes go wide at the sudden restriction of your throat, feeling the cold metal of his ring against your pulse.

“Who knew this about you? That you were such a slut?”

As much as he knows you want to deny it, you want to smack the smugness from his voice, he can feel your pussy tighten around him. He sees your eyes roll back a little.

“You’re getting tighter.”

The hand on your hip moves down, attempting to hold you in place whilst letting his thumb press over your clit. The sounds of him slapping against your wetness is obscene, and he’s only distracted from it as you whimper out pathetic yes��s and please’s.

“You wanna cum?” he’s grunting, trying to keep the pace going until you can reach your peak.

You nod against his wide hand, still tight around your neck. “Oh you can do better than that. I already know how bad you want it, slut.”

“Please Eren, please make me cum. I want to cum, please, please, please” you can barely make out the words, your head going light and body tightening.

“Cum for me.”

You release, and as he can feel the fluttering of your walls around him, he lets go of your throat. The sudden oxygen as you cum leaves you overwhelmed. Burying yourself in his shoulder, he fucks you through it. Cock slapping up into your cunt over and over, somehow being sucked deeper in as you coat his length with more of your own slick. He can feel your nails breaking the flesh of his back as you’re holding on for dear life, moaning his name and even a fucking thank you into his ear.

As you begin to slow, legs shake as you stay straddled over him. He flips you, Eren now firmly on top, slowly moving in and out of you. The stimulation is intense, your cunt sparking at any sensation.

Caged between his forearms, his hair is a mess thanks to you. You push tendrils back past his ears as he leans down to kiss you once again. This kiss is different. It feels… less desperate. It feels deep and meaningful, caring even.

Your eyes meet in acknowledgment, both of you too worried to speak about the shift in tone.

He reaches down instead, pulling your leg up and splitting you on his cock. A tongue swipes at your nipple, biting and playing with each as he gradually picks up pace again. You’re still so fucking wet it’s easy for him to thrust into you at a dizzying pace. You can feel all of him against your gummy walls. Each time he passes that special spot inside you, you moan and gasp, and it’s the best sound he’s ever heard.

His thrusts were becoming more primal, holding your thighs close around his hips. Letting your sweaty bodies collide again and again, his balls slapping against you. The grunts and moans coming from his lips were so infuriatingly erotic. Eren just wanted one more from you, and then he’d let himself finish. If this was to be a drunken mistake, so be it, but he would at least make it memorable.

Those jade eyes were on you once again, the power and dominance radiating from the immeasurable. He can see you barely being able to hold on, completely fucked out beneath him. You’re moaning and whining, hands moving over the swell of your breasts and playing with your nipples as if it’s going to keep you grounded.

He sits up, eyes flicking down to where you were conjoined. It took so much restraint not to cum inside you right then and there. Your glistening sex was so tight around him, the wet slapping noises echo again and again. You’re pulling and sucking him in, cream pooling around his length.

“Give me one more, y/n. I want to feel you cum on my cock.”

You try to look up at him through heavy lids. Your friend Eren saying this is so taboo. The words he’s said tonight so far from normal for the both of you. You flutter around him, somehow your pussy still wants to be fucked, still wants to push you off the edge one more time. You can feel the coil inside your stomach tightening.

Eyes rolling back, you can barely keep it together anymore. He’s pounding into you at a startling rate, fingers flicking over your clit again and again and again.

“P - please, it’s s-so good.”

Your breaths between words were quick, “you’re so big-”

“Yeah you like that? You like being so full of my cock? Such a pretty face you make when you’re all fucked out.”

Holy shit.

Eren could tell how much words affected you, your back arching and legs pulling him somehow closer into you.

“Come on, baby. I wanna hear those moans.” he’s grunting, getting so fucking close to losing himself in your cunt. He knows what he wants to hear most though, “say my name. Tell me who’s treating you how you should be”

With that, you’re losing yourself around him again. Writing on the bed, gripping sheets in tightly balled fists. White light taking over your sight as you clench around Eren. This orgasm was the most intense, taking your body by surprise in its overstimulated state. You weren’t even making a noise, just holding on to the high for as long as possible.

And then you shattered, whining and moaning, whispering his name over and over again.

As you moved underneath him, Eren kept his punishing pace up until he watched you expel the last of your energy. Name forming on your lips over and over again he falters, releasing inside you. You can feel the stickiness inside you, the sensation of being filled up. Eren watches for a moment as he sees the white pearls forming around your stretched out pussy.

His chest is back on yours as he kisses your neck, shoulders, whatever skin he can. Thrusting back into you a couple of times, he finally pulls out. You feel his cum dripping out of you, but you’re too spent to do anything about it.

Eren lies next to you, both of your bodies attempting to regulate from that.

“You okay?”

He’s checking in, making sure he didn’t go too far with someone he genuinely cares for.

You nod, turning to meet his stare. Giving him a drowsy smile, you’re not sure what comes next. But for now, you’re happy. Curling into his side, he puts an arm round you and lets you rest for a while. As he notices your breathing become deeper, he nestles into you, muttering something about clean up.

Moving away from you, you can make out some noises of a tap, drawers opening and closing. In your sleepy state you feel him gently wiping at you, two glasses of water being put on the bedside table. Finally he makes his way back to you, and Eren notes how cute you look. Hot and completely fucked out, yes. But also gentle and at peace, allowing the heaviness of sleep taking over.

He rests behind you, wanting to be back in your warmth. He pulls you in closer, wrapping an arm around your waist. The fragrance of you takes over his nostrils, and he’s all too eager to move closer to your hair, pressing one last kiss at the nape of your neck. Whatever tomorrow brings, he hopes it’s not the last time he gets to be this close to you.

#eren jaeger smut #eren jaeger x reader #eren yaeger smut #eren yaeger x reader #aot smut #eren smut #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader smut #eren yaegar x reader smut #attack on titan smut #pls be nice lmao

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redacted-dear · 2 years ago

Text

you saved me from myself

chapter 1, super proud of this and excited to keep writing it

but before i continue i wanna know if you guys are genuinely interested in seeing this continue.

im planning on having this be a bit of a slow burn enemies to friends to lovers because i also want to incorporate the canon lore to like almost make it feel like its part of the story and its just another listener

listener will probably get a few names threw out but the final one will be when we hit the lovers portion of the plot, ya know.

so tell my if you guys are interested in seeing this Christians listener fic continued

Btw I made a Pinterest board for my vision of Christian in this fic, it's posted on my page if anyone's interested :)

Arrogant Australian boy – chapter 1

It was a small little coffee shop. It wasn’t the fanciest, but it just seemed to attract enough fancy people for it to be added to some posh lists on BuzzFeed best coffee places in dahlia. It still seemed to attract enough assholes, enough influencers to bug the ever-loving crap out of you. But it was a routine.

You stand at the counter in the café just finishing up paying when you see a face. Unfamiliar as most people at the café now days. The fall air follows his arrogant strut threw the glass door with the sound of chimes alerting the rest of the place of the door being opened to a new customer.

His hair flew in the breeze slightly- and God why did you even notice something like that about this obvious douche.

You grabbed your coffee from the counter dropping a tip in the cup by the till and give the worker a soft smile. You make your way to the door. Only taking one last passing glance at the stuck-up man now approaching the counter to order for himself. And only as you take your final steps out the door you hear the tones of his accent as he ordered the most basic order you had ever heard. You give a scoff.

It takes you a unreasonable amount of time to refocus on your walk to work. He shouldn’t occupy your thoughts like that. He’s another stuck-up rich momma’s boy walking around dahlia who’s gotten everything handed to hi, except his ass.

You chuckle at the thought before walking yourself into your work. Just a small clothing store in dahlia. It was started up by a few friends of yours and when it got large enough, they really needed a manager for the installment closest to your house. It didn’t take much thought on that decision before you were working at a trendy boutique on a main street in dahlia.

You flip the closed sign over with your free hand taking a sip of your drink and making your way to the front counter to open the till. The front door chimes much like the café and to your surprise it’s the same arrogant boy walking around the store looking at the shirts hung on the front racks.

“What are you looking for, pretty boy?” you call softly resting forward on the counter.

“What did you just call me?” he looks up from the soft blue button up on the hanger with a look of disgust.

You laugh and the sound of his accent dances around the quiet morning in the store. His look of pure distaste almost makes you feel better.

“You don’t agree?” you ask tilting your head like an innocent puppy knowing full well its condescending as shit.

The arrogant little fuck scoffs and goes back to browsing. And with that you take your queue to continue your job well sending glances at the aussie who would look away all pissy when you caught him giving you this little disgusted look.

“You need to update the clothes here; they look like the back of my closet” he scuffed and gestured dramatically towards the store.

“what’s your name?” you ask giving him a pointed look.

“Christian, why would you like to know?” the prick you now know as Christian shoots.

“Just thought I should be able to at least know the name of the Australian bitch walking around my friends store” you say continuing to work well talking. “so, you know, when I speak to you I know what name im using to tell you to get the fuck out”

Christian looks as if he just kicked in the crotch and it almost makes you smile.

“I don’t want to hear a excuse, Christian” you say your charade almost breaking watching his wounded expression.

“Fine, I have to get to my meeting anyway” he huffs making for the exit.

“With that attitude I’m not thinking you run those meetings” you shoot.

All you hear is a pissed off grunt and you burst out laughing. That little prick deserved what he got and it makes you so happy to be the one to take him down a peg.

And yet the pissy little Australian boy lingers in your mind threw out your day. And not the argument. That would be the reasonable thing to think about. But you couldn’t stop your thoughts from trailing off to the way his hair brushed just over his eyes. Or how his accent, despite how grating it sounded, echoed threw the store like a quiet song.

But you got threw the day closing the store at 6 and cleaning up the last few things.

As you grab your bag you see Christian walking past the store once more. You grunt unimpressed. Watching him grow red threw the window as his friend clearly says something that gets on his nerves.

It almost bothers you that its not you making his face contort like that, but you shrug it aside. You had to get home, you had friends you promised to call.

So, you shove your stuff in your bag and march off. For the first time today. Almost completely forgetting about the undeniable attractive yet grating and arrogant boy you never meant to talk to today.

#redacted asmr #redacted david #redactedverse #redacted angel #redacted davey #redacted sam #redacted wolf pack #redacted darlin #redacted babe #redacted sweetheart #redacted milo #redacted christian

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cheri-translates · 3 years ago

Text

[CN] Gavin’s Divination Date

🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for a date, 占卜之约, which has not been released in EN! 🍒

[ Released on 16 September 2021 ]

MC: Gavin, I’ve been way too unlucky recently! I fell down while riding a bicycle, the water supply was cut halfway during a shower, and last week, three flights were delayed by more than two hours within the span of three days... Sob sob, life is so difficult...

It’s a Saturday, and Gavin has come over to my house to kill time as usual. The moment we meet, I can’t help but wail about how I painstakingly got through the week.

As though he’s comforting a small animal, his palm gently covers the top my head.

Gavin: You’ve already told me these things.

He pulls me over to sit on the sofa, then leans over to look at my knee. Knowing his intentions and feeling afraid that he’s genuinely worried, I hurriedly wave my hands.

MC: Actually, it wasn’t a serious fall, and my skin didn’t tear. There were a few red cuts, but they're gone now.

Even after confirming the veracity of what I said, Gavin doesn’t straighten up. His fingers rub my knee, conveying his belated consolation.

After a while, he rests an arm on the sofa while turning his head towards me.

Gavin: Want to drink milk tea or eat cake? Didn’t you say that with these two things, even the worst of moods can be turned into the clearest of skies?

With this reminder, a location instantly flashes past my mind.

MC: Let’s drink coffee!

I reach for my phone on the coffee table. Tapping on my saved searches, I show Gavin a shop.

MC: This one - Witch Café. The name’s a little outdated, but it’s really popular recently. I’ve seen many people checking in on Moments.

MC: The manager of this shop knows divination, and the reviews mentioned that she’s really accurate...

MC: Also, if the results from the divination aren’t that great, she could help turn my fortune around.

MC: The shop sells lots of objects used for changing one’s fortune, such as crystal rings and bracelets.

MC: I think what I need most right now, aside from you... would be a change of fortune!

Gavin bursts into a laugh, then lifts his head to look at me.

Gavin: It’s my fault for not learning divination to change your fortune for the better. Otherwise, you’d only need me.

Gavin’s quick wit causes me to do a thumbs-up.

MC: Wow. Your logic... makes a little bit of sense.

He scrolls down my phone screen, taking a casual look at the café’s introduction.

Gavin: Mm, it looks really interesting and isn’t very far.

MC: It’s really nearby. It’s only a few kilometres away, and there definitely won’t be a traffic jam at his hour. But it’s the weekend, so I’m not sure if we’d need to queue.

Gavin takes my phone from my hand, then pushes me on the back gently.

Gavin: Get changed. I’ll give them a call to make a reservation.

I immediately get up, giving him a deliberately formal bow.

MC: Understood.

The internet-famous café is even more popular than I imagined. Although it isn’t time for afternoon tea yet, the shop is already fully packed.

Fortunately, we’re seated in a relatively quiet corner next to the window. However, we can still hear a few ladies from the neighbouring table fervently discussing the results of their divination.

I tug on Gavin’s sleeve from across the table.

MC: Gavin, you’ve never believed in such things, have you?

Gavin: Divination?

Gavin nods frankly, then suddenly chuckles.

Gavin: I initially wanted to say that I didn’t believe it. But I suddenly remembered that an Evolver who can predict the future is sitting right in front of me.

MC: ...that’s true?!

Realising this, I sink into a deep contemplation. Gavin reaches out to scratch the tip of my nose.

Gavin: I meant that as a joke. It’s impossible to meet a second Evolver with a precognition ability.

I glare at Gavin angrily. He shifts his gaze, looking at the manager who is currently talking to patrons.

Gavin: But she is an Evolver.

MC: Really?

I turn my head to look. The manager is wearing a black apron, and she’s bending down as she patiently explains the divination symbol to a patron, her smile warm and amiable.

She exudes an aura which makes whatever she says very believable.

Just as my anticipation is hooked, Gavin stifles it with his words.

Gavin: But it definitely isn’t related to precognition.

MC: I see...

When Gavin sees that my anticipation has dampened, he pushes a blueberry cake in front of me.

Gavin: Don’t feel disappointed yet. Divination has never needed to rely on Evol. You’ll know if it’s accurate after giving it a try.

He digs a small piece of cake with a spoon, then brings it over to me. Munching on it, my eyes widen as I look at him.

MC: Incredibly! Delicious!

The cake exceeded my expectations. Thinking that the coffee might be pretty good too, I quickly lift the cup of coffee from the table.

In the meantime, Gavin picks up the explanatory card the manager had just brought over, and starts reading from it.

Gavin: It says that once you’ve finished drinking the coffee, you have to press the bell to call for the manager. The manager will obtain the divination results after observing the shape of the coffee sediments.

Gavin: Before the divination, you could think of the contents of the divination first.

Gavin: If you have a ring or another token, you could prepare it beforehand. Place it at the bottom of the cup afterwards to increase the effectiveness.

After reading this, he rests his chin against his hand while chuckling softly.

Gavin: It’s almost the same as the tarot cards we tried the last time.

I take the explanatory card from him. Opening it up, I give it a sweeping glance.

MC: ...so it’s tasseography. I did research on it when we were playing with tarot cards the last time. Afterwards, I realised how complicated it is to interpret the divination results, so I gave up on learning it.

Finishing the rest of the coffee in one gulp, I press the copper bell at the corner of the table.

Upon hearing the bell, the manager looks up and shoots me a smile while washing a coffee cup. After wiping her hands, she walks over to us.

Manager: Are the both of you done with your coffee?

Seeing me nod in anticipation, she picks up the serving tray on the table, placing it next to the coffee cup.

Manager: May I know how I should address you?

MC: MC.

Manager: MC, lift the coffee cup and sway it gently while contemplating on your divination question. Once you’re done, place the cup upside down onto the tray.

I follow her instructions.

After a short while, she uncovers the cup, displaying the shape of the coffee sediments inside it.

Manager: Based on the results, you seem to have been going through a rough time lately, and your mood hasn’t been great. Is this correct?

MC: !!!

I immediately look at Gavin, thinking that this is far too accurate.

The manager seems to detect an affirmation from my expression. She sets down the coffee cup, then retrieves two wrapped chocolate cookies from her apron.

Manager: I made them this afternoon, and they’re for you. Based on the shape of the coffee sediments, although you might have experienced some rough moments recently, all the unhappy moments have already passed. Over the next few days, you’ll receive good news in succession, and you’ll be happier.

While saying this, she leans over, her slightly curled hair exuding a floral fragrance which refreshes the soul, causing me to be left in a mild daze.

Gavin suddenly speaks up.

Gavin: You’re using Evol.

The manager pauses in fright. For a moment, she’s at a loss, and has no choice but to bow slightly with her hands by her side.

Manager: I’m sorry, have I offended the both of you?

Seeing her frantic expression, I hurriedly shake my head.

MC: I-it’s fine... we don’t discriminate against Evolvers. And I’m sure you didn’t have malicious intentions.

The manager’s shoulders slump in resignation, admitting her “little magic” to us candidly.

Manager: ...I just wanted to send a flower into your memories.

MC: Send a flower?

Seeing that I didn’t understand what she meant, she explains patently.

Manager: Sorry, that’s a phrase I use in the shop.

Manager: Through tasseography, I can truly tell that you haven’t been in a good mood recently. But it’s very difficult to change your future fortune.

Manager: In order to lift the spirits of patrons who do divinations, I use my Evol to alter their memories slightly.

Manager: However, my Evol has its limits. The only thing I can do is add something small that’s worthwhile of happiness into their unhappy memories, such as a flower.

Manager: Are you willing to give it a try?

Considering how frank she is, I can’t find a reason to refuse. Furthermore, no incidents will occur with Gavin around.

MC: Mm...

The manager’s hand gently glides across me. Although I feel as though nothing happened, she signals that she’s done. Gavin stares at me curiously.

Gavin: Are there any changes to your memories?

I inexplicably recall the time when I fell off the bicycle, and images beginning from the moment I fell surface in my mind -

The path in front of me is tilted, and I can’t control my plummet towards my left side.

These images are exactly the same as what actually happened, but in the very last snippet -

In an unremarkable corner of the crosswalk, a blue wild flower sways along with the breeze.

MC: A flower? There’s really a flower!

For some reason, seeing this flower enveloped in sunlight causes my emotions to become much more composed, reducing the annoyance I felt about the fall.

The manager releases a joyful sigh, then continues her soft explanation on why she does such things.

Manager: People often have a deep impression of negative things, while happy moments are fleeting. Unhappy memories linger much longer in memories.

Manager: So I thought - if I could add an element of happiness into the unhappy memories of patrons, such as a flower, or a ray of sunlight...

Manager: Their unhappy memories may become a little brighter. On a subconscious level, their mood would naturally become better.

Manager: With a good mood to lift them up, they’d focus on the positive aspect of things the next time they face something else. That’s why they’d find that their fortunes have truly turned for the better.

After saying this, the manager looks at the both of us before apologising again softly.

Manager: Even though I use Evol on patrons, I don’t have malicious intentions. Could you be magnanimous and not report me?

I toss a glance at Gavin, hoping that the Captain would close an eye this time.

After pondering for a moment, Gavin nods calmly at the manager.

Gavin: I won’t report you, but don’t use Evol on patrons in the future.

He looks at me from the side, then reaches out to grab a tissue before wiping it gently against the corner of my lips. Lowering my head, I spot blueberry coloured cream on the white tissue.

Gavin: I believe that your coffee and snacks are enough to bring patrons happiness.

The manager grabs my hand in relief, thanking me repeatedly.

Manager: Thank you both for liking my coffee and cakes. I’ll give another present to the both of you.

By the time we leave the café, it’s still early. Gavin and I aren’t in a hurry to go back. Holding hands, we take a stroll beneath the shade of trees.

We can’t help but bring up what happened in the café earlier.

MC: It turns out that it’s so simple to change one’s mood. Adding an element of happiness into unhappy memories is enough.

Surrounded by the chirping of cicadas, even Gavin’s voice reveals a refreshing and carefree touch of summer.

Seeing his slightly sweat-damped fringe sticking to his temples, I retrieve a tissue from my bag and wipe it for him.

Gavin: I remember that you once mentioned that the secret to maintaining a happy life is to focus on the positive side of things.

While saying this, Gavin takes the tissue in my hand and stores it into his own pocket.

MC: Mm, that’s right! Actually, such forms of self comfort are pretty effective.

MC: Even though I fell while riding a bike, I told myself that it was fortunate that it wasn’t anything more than a fall.

MC: When the water supply was cut while I was showering, it only happened because I didn’t pay attention to the announcement by the property management...

MC: I’d just learn from this experience and check the announcement board more often.

MC: Also, the flights were delayed due to torrential rain. It was an objective reason, and nobody could have expected it.

MC: A lady from the airline company even gave me orange juice and a small gift.

Gavin chuckles leisurely, meeting my gaze from the corner of his eyes.

Gavin: Many things may not have happened according to how you wished over the short span of a week. Immersing yourself in the state of mind that everything wouldn’t go smoothly made you forget to look at the positive side of everything.

MC: Mm, but I can’t help it... Maintaining an optimistic outlook is really difficult. It’s inevitable to feel discouraged.

While saying this, I tighten my grip on his hand.

MC: But now, I know that if I face any unhappy moments in the future, I just have to search for a flower.

Gavin stops in his footsteps, lowering his eyes and giving me a smile.

Gavin: Have you thought of a new method to cheer yourself up?

I release a matter-of-fact “mm”. Pulling his collar, I give him a gentle peck on the chin.

MC: Whenever I face an unlucky incident, all I have to do is tell you immediately, and I’d immediately be comforted by you...

MC: That way, I’d no longer be unhappy.

Gavin is taken aback momentarily. Then, he smiles faintly while looking at me.

MC: Whether it’s a fall or a delayed flight... The moment I share these things with you, the moodiness in my heart vanishes like smoke. The reason why I specially complained to you today was just to play coy.

I draw closer to him, swinging our interlaced hands.

MC: In the café earlier, I didn’t take the crystal bracelet she offered to change my fortune for the better...

MC: I already have a bracelet which can bring me the greatest luck in the world.

I lower my head. Fragments of sunlight fall onto the ginkgo bracelet, refracting resplendent and exquisite faint light.

MC: This ginkgo leaf makes me happier than any other flower. No matter when, simply looking at it lifts my mood instantly.

Gavin doesn't release my hand. Instead, he pulls my hand to his back, bringing me into his arms gently.

The verdant trees and chirping of cicadas intertwine. The clean fragrance of shower gel from the side of his neck causes me to wrap my arms around him tightly.

Gavin: I knew that you were playing coy. Trivial matters have never influenced your mood. You’re always very good at comforting yourself and seeing the positive side of everything. But the bracelet alone isn’t enough. The next time you come looking for me, I’ll definitely do something that’d make you even happier.

After saying this, he can’t help but release a resigned chuckle.

Gavin: ...even though I haven’t thought of what I’d do.

I burst into a chuckle, then bury my head into his embrace completely.

Gavin: But there will definitely be things that I can do to add an element of happiness into your unhappy memories.

Dense green hues and shadows fall on his shoulders. Lifting my head, I see faint light riding the wind through crevices of large clouds in the faraway sky.

Leisurely and carefree ants pass by the slabstone road, winding around a fallen green leaf, and I can’t tell if they’re taking a stroll or scavenging for food.

Summer is flourishing, and this moment is incomparably tranquil.

My heart is filled to the brim with contentedness and happiness. Even my tone is relaxed and at ease.

MC: Gavin, you have to promise me one thing. If you’re unhappy about something in the future, you have to tell me about it immediately, okay? I can add many, many elements of happiness into your memories so that you wouldn’t even have half a second of unhappiness. I can guarantee that.

I lift my head to look at Gavin. With our close proximity, I can see his amber eyes reflecting large swathes of lush branches and leaves belonging exclusively to midsummer.

The gentleness flowing from these eyes aren’t stingy at all as they land on my face.

MC: We have to be the ever-fresh and blooming flowers in each of our memories, forever swaying in the wind.

Gavin releases a soft “okay”. He rests his chin on my shoulder, tightening his grip around my waist.

He murmurs at my ear.

Gavin: There’s no need for a guarantee. Your existence has always been the most brightly-coloured flower in my memories.

[ MOMENTS ]

Gavin’s Post: Different flavours of sodas seem to be really popular this summer.

MC: In order to clear the existing stock in the fridge, it’s time to have supper!

Gavin: Pick between mala crayfish and barbecue?

Gavin’s Post: Different flavours of sodas seem to be really popular this summer.

MC: Soda is always the best!

Gavin: Although that’s true, it’s best to drink fewer cold beverages.

Gavin’s Post: Different flavours of sodas seem to be really popular this summer.

MC: Pick between white peach and tangerine!

Gavin: I’ll pick the one you like less.

☕ Call: here

☕ Support the café (not the one mentioned in the date) by dropping by the tip jar!

#mlqc #mlqc cn #mlqc spoilers #mlqc gavin #AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THE FLUFF #the disjunct between his sprite and his outfit in the karma brings me physical pain BUT ALL IS FORGIVEN

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lightsovermonaco · 3 years ago

Text

His Good Sweater: Chapter 13

Masterlist

Thanks to @acollectionofficsandshit for being my bestie and beta reading! This would have never happened without her ❤ Make sure you read Roman Profile, set in the same universe!

Word Count: 6.7k

Recommended song: "Cupid’s Chokehold/Breakfast in America” by Gym Class Heroes

"I have to go."

"Can't you stay five more minutes?"

"I wish."

"Come on, just a few more minutes to cuddle." Pierre flings back the fluffy duvet and holds out a hand. "Please?"

"I have an exam," you say with a sigh but bend to press a kiss to his upturned palm. "I can't skip."

Pierre groans and slings an arm over his eyes. "What am I supposed to do all day?"

"I don't have a sim but I have an old PlayStation you're more than welcome to use. I think I still have one or two games."

"That won't keep me busy."

"I'm sure you'll find something. Just stay out of trouble okay? I'd like to get my security deposit back when I finally move out of this hellhole."

"Okay," Pierre grumbles, sitting up to give you a quick kiss. "What time are you getting back?"

"Four. We can go out to dinner or something." You smooth a hand over his hair, smiling lightly. "Or we can go for a picnic and take a walk through Saint James Park."

"Sounds like a plan." He turns his head to kiss your palm. "I'll be counting down the minutes."

You roll your eyes but your smile contradicts the sass. "I'll be home before you know it. Love you, champion."

"I love you too, mon coeur."

He was endlessly grateful for how easily the two of you had fallen back into each other. When he had shown up at your doorstep he had expected there to be awkward pauses and minutes of tense silence, but there had been blissfully little of either. As the days bleed into each other, your relationship only gets steadier, closer and closer to what it used to be. Maybe it was because you had been the one to break the silence or maybe it was because he had thrown himself into his career into someone's bed- whatever the reason, it didn’t matter. He was simply grateful to be welcomed back into your life. He didn't plan on leaving any time soon.

Pierre allows himself a half hour of lounging in bed before forcing himself to get up and shower. Off weeks were hard; all he wanted to do was rest and recharge but he still had to follow his workout regimen and sleep schedule or he risked falling out of the habit, making it that much harder to get back in the groove come race week.

First order of business: clean the clutter you had shoved in closets and the spare room prior to his arrival the day before. Folding the three baskets of clean laundry took an hour, washing dishes another thirty minutes, and vacuuming the entire flat took twenty. Once the counters are spotless and there isn’t a stray sock to be found, he takes stock of your pantry and notes what staples you were running low on.

Two hours later he trudges back up the three flights of stairs to your apartment, arms laden with reusable bags packed to the gills with food. His legs burn and he's slightly winded from the excursion; at least that could count as his work out for the day.

He's just about to start slicing vegetables for dinner when his phone chimes with a text from his PR agent, Sylvie.

You're supposed to be in an interview now. Where are you?

"Oh shit." He scrambles for his laptop which of course was dead. He manages to plug it in at the dining room table and angle it so the background is mostly neutral, just a band poster framed behind him. He checks his hair before logging into the interview.

"There's the star," the interviewer says, far too chipper to be entirely genuine.

"Sorry, I was having connection issues." He queues up his signature sweetheart smile that gets him out of any squabbles. It works, the woman's irritation melting into a more easy expression.

"Let's just get right into it. Since we're low on time I'll jump right in, if you don't mind."

Pierre leans back. He had an inkling where this was headed. "By all means, please."

"We just saw news of your deal with Christian Horner- if you take seventh in this year's drivers championship, it looks like you're at Red Bull Racing next year. How does that feel after being publicly demoted mid-season in 2019?"

A smirk tugs at Pierre's lips. He had known this exact question was coming. He had debated how to answer it without starting waves and still remaining truthful. If there was one thing he prided himself on, it was his ability to be diplomatic when others may have let their egos get in the way.

"Obviously I'm grateful that Red Bull has recognized the hard work I've been putting in at Alpha Tauri," he starts. "I think I've been able to push the car as far as I can but I still have pace in me, personally. So moving into the Red Bull would let me loose, so to speak, and give me a chance to prove that Red Bull is where I belong."

"Right, you have had quite a spectacular season so far with a race win under your belt and a few podiums for good measure. What do you attribute that success to? Why is it so different now in an Alpha Tauri versus that coveted second Red Bull seat?"

Pierre purses his lips. The answer he was expected to give wasn't one he was willing to voice. Instead he opts for neutral. "I've been able to focus and hone my driving this season. I've found a groove that works for me and with it has come an insane amount of confidence, which is something I struggled with for awhile after going back to Torro Rosso. I think it's really just that I'm finally comfortable in the car and with my team and that makes a huge difference."

"Thank you for that," the journalist says and Pierre nods. "Shifting gears, I have a few questions about your personal life if you don't mind."

This was the part he always dreads. Questions were often prying and he had to subtly skirt around them in a way that offered a satisfying answer without giving away too much. It was an art he liked to think he had perfected over the years but still didn't enjoy.

"As long as you don't mind me staying silent if I don't want to answer."

The woman laughs, the sound sharp and grating. "Of course. Unless I can bribe you into giving me an exclusive."

"Likely not. But you ask the right questions and we'll see."

"You've been seen hanging around a certain London neighborhood lately- that wouldn't have anything to do with you and your lovely lady, would it?"

He had been waiting for that one, too. When the two of you had returned from Red Bull headquarters he had noticed the man taking pictures across the street. He hadn't said anything to you at the time because really, there was no point in getting you worked up when he had a plan to handle it.

The question played right into his hand, in fact.

Pierre sits forward, folding his hands in front of him. "Actually yes. We recently got back together and if you'll let me, I would like to make a request."

The woman leans back and checks her notes. "Well it's not quite what I had planned but please," she gives a flourish with a hand, "you have the floor."

"I know driver's personal lives are something that a lot of people are interested in and that's great. I don't mind sharing things with my fans or letting them get the inside scoop, but there's some things I would rather be left alone. My relationship is one of them. I know you all took note that she hasn't been around the past couple months and if I'm being honest, it's because of comments and press coverage that invaded her privacy. I think some people forgot she was more than just a name on a screen."

Pen poised to take notes, the interviewer prompts, "You said you had a request?"

He doesn’t stop to assess the damage he had already undoubtedly done. Sylvie was probably already on the phone doing damage control with every news outlet she could get her hands on, if her muted and black square at the bottom of the screen was an indication.

"All I'm asking is that you leave her alone. If you have questions or comments you have to make, just direct them at me. Don't follow her around asking about me. Don't comment on her posts unless you're capable of being a decent human. Just… let her live her life in peace."

Maybe he was a love sick fool, but honestly he didn't care if he lost some support from fans. If they had such strong opinions on his personal life, he would be better off without them anyway. And his team could cut him and even if he was unable to secure a seat in Formula 1 after next season, he would survive.

But if he lost you again, he would be broken. It had taken being apart from you for him to realize it and he'd be damned if he was ever disconnected from you like that again.

"That's quite the speech."

Pierre shrugs. "It was. She's the most important thing in my life, right up there with racing.” Now that he had started down the road of truth, he found it impossible to hold his tongue. “I lost her once because people couldn't be bothered to remember that their words have consequences. I won't let it happen again."

"So you see yourself with her for a long time then?" The woman's eyes glitter with the potential of getting an even juicer tidbit from him.

Pierre’s jaw sets, muscles feathering. "That's not something I'm prepared to discuss."

The woman purses her lips and tips her head to the side. There was clearly more she wanted to say. "Well, I have to thank you for what you've given me here. My boss is gonna love the exclusive. I won't push any further. Thanks for your comments, Pierre."

"Thanks for actually being respectful."

“We aren’t all monsters.” The woman shrugs. “I can’t say I haven’t had my moments but I try to be straightforward.”

“Right, yeah. I get that you have a job to do.”

“Anyway. I look forward to seeing what you can do the rest of this season. Good luck.”

He signs off and instantly anxiety washes over him. If she twisted his words he was screwed. Sylvie would be on the phone as soon as the article was printed, no doubt trying to soothe sponsors and investors. She'd give him an earful about being respectful and not poking the bear but he'd tune it out like he always did.

The sooner he got away from Red Bull, the better.

Instead of dwelling on it he busies himself with cooking. It was one of his guilty pleasures. He always requested a full kitchen when he was staying anywhere more than a few days so that if he had the chance to make a home-cooked meal, he had the option. For tonight he had selected his favorite recipe. Parmesan-Cesar chicken wasn't normally something you would ever touch with a ten foot pole but as long as he was making it, Pierre knew you'd at least give it a try.

Music blasting in the background, Pierre sings along quietly as he unpacks the rest of the ingredients and gets to work. He does a little spin between the island and the sink, rinsing the dishes and putting them right in the dishwasher as he uses them. A clean kitchen is the mark of a great chef, his mom had told him, drilling the phrase into him when he was young.

In the middle of cutting potatoes Pierre gets a call. He only has an hour until you're home so he doesn't bother stopping, just puts it on speaker and continues measuring spices.

"Hey Daniel."

"Heard you're in London," Daniel says, Australian accent thick. "And a little birdie told me you and your lady got back together."

"We did," Pierre says, a smile splitting his face. "Finally."

"Thank god, now I don't have to listen to your drunk woe-is-me rambling anymore."

Pierre laughs and sets aside the measuring spoons. "It's not that bad."

"Oh please." Pierre could practically hear the eyes rolling. "The number of times I had to send an uber to a bar after a grand prix is insane. Charles and I should be entitled to financial compensation with the amount of babysitting we've been doing."

"I can handle myself!"

"Not after a martini you can't."

He was right there. "Is there a point to this conversation?"

"Oh right- I'm actually in town today too, got some stuff to shoot for McLaren before we head to Austria for the race next week. You guys wanna come out with us tonight? We're heading to a bar or two."

"I actually had something planned-"

"She already said she's coming!" Dan's girlfriend shouts in the background.

“Well then why even ask me?”

“To be polite,” Daniel offers with a laugh. “We’re meeting at the rooftop bar at the Trafalgar hotel at seven. That give you enough time to do whatever you had planned that’s apparently more important than seeing your best mates?”

“We’ll be there,” Pierre says and hangs up. He finishes seasoning the potatoes and pops them in the oven, finally getting a chance to sit while they cook alongside the main course.

He's on his feet a few minutes later, decluttering the last bits of mess around your flat. It was clear it hadn't had a decent cleaning in quite awhile- hopefully you'd keep it tidy now that the effort had been made. The guys would tease him endlessly if they found out he was acting like a housewife.

You arrive home just as he’s setting the table. “God, it smells amazing in here.”

“Salut, mon amour.” Hands full with hot dishes, he settles for a kiss to your cheek. “I made dinner.”

“And you cleaned,” you observe. “You were a busy boy.”

“Pyry would kill me if he found out I was laying around all day. I had to do something.”

You hang your backpack on the hook behind the door and take a seat at the table. “Well remind me to thank him again when I see him. This looks delicious.”

Pierre grins over his shoulder at you. “Me or the food?”

You throw your head back and laugh, loud and unrestrained. “The food, you goof.”

Pierre quirks a brow. "Is that the honest answer?"

"Okay, maybe both."

The meal is filled with your ramblings about your exam and your new hobby- this month it was hiking. You went into detail about all the few trails in the city you’d been on as well as the more challenging ones that dotted the countryside. Pierre just nods along as you talk, already planning on staying up late to learn what he could about the topic so he could be a better conversation partner.

The pair of you work together to tidy the kitchen and put away any leftovers. “Did you bring something semi nice to wear tonight or do we have to make a quick trip to the store?”

“I’ve got some Tauri stuff I can wear. And not just team gear,” he adds when you groan. “You know that cream sweater you love? The one with the logo debossed on the front? I’ve got that.”

“Oh,” you say before biting your lip. Your eyes trail down his frame and back up like you’re imagining it on him. A tingle travels up his spine under your assessing gaze. If you kept that up, neither of you would make it out of the apartment tonight. “My favorite. Yeah, wear that. It’ll be on my floor by the end of the night.”

Pierre places his hands on your waist and grins. “Will it? And what will be on the floor from your closet, hm?”

“Your favorite dress.”

“The orange one?” He realizes half a second too late that you would never know how much he adored that dress from the gala. It had hugged your curves in all the right places and left your back exposed, which would leave him free to trace patterns on your soft skin whenever he pleased. He had missed out on worshipping you in it that night and he wouldn’t mind the opportunity to do so now.

You roll your eyes. “I can’t wear that to a bar.”

“Says who?” Pierre nuzzles his face against your neck, breathing you in. A light undercurrent of sweat from your walk home from classes mingles with the usual bright scent of you, only serving to rile him up further. Never in a million years would he have guessed that a simple scent could do him in, and yet here he was, completely wrapped up in yours.

“Says me.” You sigh, tipping your head to the side when Pierre’s nose grazes your skin.

His lips follow until he reaches your jaw before he pulls back. “What one are you wearing then?”

“Does it matter?” You cross your arms, the smirk playing on your kissable lips tempting him.

“I have to mentally prepare myself.” And if whatever you chose was too sexy, he would need to get his handsiness out of his system before the pair of you met up with Daniel and his girlfriend. The last thing he needed was to be on the front of some seedy gossip column when his plan was to ease back into it.

You smile up at him, broad and unrestrained as if knowing your answer would affect him greatly. “The cobalt blue one that makes you stutter.”

The dress in question was just as form fitting as the orange one, but shorter and decidedly more distracting. It fell mid thigh and the spaghetti straps left your shoulders exposed, which coupled with the low back displayed a downright sinful amount of skin. You had worn it at a Torro Rosso event a couple years back and he had scarcely been able to get a full sentence out around you all night.

“That one’s a close second.” He follows you to your room, leaving you to hunt through the closet while he digs through his suitcase, thankful that he had the foresight to check out of his hotel on the way back from Red Bull and bring his things here.

Because there was no way in hell he was missing a second of being by your side while he was in town. Every moment had to count when he had no idea when he would be able to sleep next to you again, not when the season was nearly over and there were two double headers between now and winter break. When so many variables stood between him and you, he had no problem prioritizing you over a routine workout or a full night’s rest.

Pierre changes into the sweater and a pair of dark skinny jeans well before you emerge from the bathroom. He doesn’t bother responding to Dan’s text that includes an address and reminds him to be on time, instead opting to scroll through his instagram feed. He likes a handful of posts from his fellow drivers, including one of Max actually smiling at something off camera.

“Well?”

Pierre’s head snaps up at the sound of your voice. The phone falls from his hand when he drags his eyes over your body, head to toe and back again.

Oh, he was so fucked.

Maybe it was selfish, but with your hair done like that, the barest brush of makeup lining your eyes and in that stunningly blue dress, he didn’t want any other man to have the privilege of laying their eyes on you.

No, you were all his.

The moment you’re within reach, Pierre places his hands on the back of your thighs, just beneath the curve of your barely covered ass. You chuckle and tap your fingers under his chin. “Close your mouth; you’ll catch flies.”

“Just so you know, if you wear that dress I can’t be held liable for my actions.” Up to and including scaring off anyone that wasn’t Daniel or his girlfriend. No one else deserved to be blessed with your radiance. Hell, he didn’t deserve it, and yet here you stood.

“We’ll see about that.”

**********

Daniel and his girlfriend had already made their way through a round of drinks by the time you arrive. It wasn’t Pierre’s fault he couldn’t keep his hands off you and wound up getting distracted on the drive over.

"Late as always," she greets, kissing your cheek. "Dan got us here fifteen minutes early because he wanted the table with the best view."

"Like our names wouldn't have gotten us the table if we asked," Pierre says, wrapping Daniel in a one-armed hug before kissing his girl’s cheek in a traditional French greeting. "The view is pretty great though."

You were already leaning on the glass partition, hands curled over the edge and undoubtedly leaving behind fingerprints on the pristine surface, completely unfazed by the fact that the other patrons were staring. You had eyes only for the London skyline and Trafalgar square lit up below. The bar with its white marble tabletops and strict dress code was absolutely not a place that you should be standing on your tiptoes for a better view, but there was no way he could condemn you when your face lit up like that.

Pierre just places a hand on the small of your back and shoots a look at the bartender currently glaring in your direction, daring the smartly dressed man to say anything. He only raises a brow and resumes filling drink orders.

"You guys know how to pick a place," you say, "I could stand here all night."

"Right," Daniel's girlfriend says, rolling her eyes at Pierre who shrugs as if to say what do you want me to do? He was powerless to deny you anything that brought you a semblance of joy; your smile was everything to him. “Love, why don’t you come tell us about uni? You’re the only one of us currently enrolled, and I’m sure the boys would love to hear about all the drama.”

You and Pierre share a secret grin. You shake your head but allow him to guide you back to the cocktail table. “Drama? I’m an engineering major. The closest thing we have to drama is someone grossly miscalculating a structural load.”

Dan shoots Pierre a mischievous grin. “I heard Stroll might be moving next year-”

Both you and Daniel’s girlfriend groan at the same time. “No racing talk when we’re around tonight,” she says. “I’ve heard enough lately.”

“What’s new in the publishing world?” You ask, leaning into Pierre when he wraps an arm around you. He only half listens to her explain the so-called “top secret” project she’s currently working on, instead opting to get drunk on you.

The light breeze filtering through the surrounding buildings ruffles your hair. You lift a hand absentmindedly to tuck it behind your ear in an attempt to keep it out of your face. Everything you do is amazing to him, snagging his attention even when he should be listening to whatever it was his friends were saying. Your gravity was simply too strong to bother resisting.

“Enough talk,” Daniel’s girlfriend says, waving a hand. “You need a drink, and I want to dance. Let’s go.” Before Pierre can protest, she’s dragging you away to the glass top bar. You throw an apologetic glance over your shoulder and Pierre just winks. He was fine watching you from afar for now.

Pierre’s gaze drops to your perky ass when you lean in to let the bartender know what you want, likely shouting to be heard over the music, your dress riding up a bit with the movement. For having such a strict dress code, this place sure did feel like an upper class club.

You hook your thumb over a shoulder, the bartender’s gaze darting to Pierre before the man nods. The only explanation you offer is a wink, followed by a note on a cocktail napkin and a beer delivered a few minutes later by a server.

This is supposed to be the best beer they have. Just try it.

Leave it to you to constantly push him outside his comfort zone. Pierre tentatively sniffs the foamy glass and shrugs before taking a sip. Not bad, but he still preferred his usual whiskey.

Setting the glass down, Pierre turns back to Daniel. “Congrats on extending your contract with McLaren by the way. Should give you a decent shot at keeping up with the big boys and landing some serious points.”

“Seems like most of us are moving around, doesn’t it? Sainz to Ferrari, Seb to Aston Martin... The only one with any sort of long term commitment is Max and now me I guess.”

“And Charles,” Pierre adds. “He’s stuck in that red monstrosity for the foreseeable future.”

Daniel laughs, taking a swig from his glass. “And you’re moving too, huh? Austria should be interesting,” Daniel remarks, watching the girls at the bar nursing their own drinks. “What with the news of your new contract breaking and all.”

“Potential contract,” Pierre corrects. “Not for sure yet.”

Daniel scoffs. “Come on mate. You won’t have any problem getting up to seventh by the end of the season. Perez is slipping and the news that his seat is in jeopardy will only help your cause.”

Pierre takes a sip of his amber beer and nods. “I’m sure Perez doesn’t appreciate it, but he’s always been a good sport.” You catch Pierre’s eye and lift your fresh flute of champagne in a mock salute. Dan’s girlfriend drags you out on the dancefloor and immediately spins you. Your laugh is nearly audible, the memory of it fresh in Pierre’s mind as he watches you.

“Mate, have you been listening to a word I’ve said?”

“I’m sorry, what?”

Daniel shakes his head and drains his drink. “I really don’t know how it took you two this long to come together. You’ve been dancing around each other for years but neither of you would admit it.”

“I could say the same about you two.”

Daniel shrugs. “Fair point. At least we got it all worked out in a weekend though.”

Pierre rolls his eyes and shoves his friend’s shoulder. “Whatever. Not all of us can have a perfect love story.”

The grin Daniel shoots Pierre is pure sunshine. “How long are you planning on waiting before you ask her to marry you?”

“What?” Pierre sputters, nearly choking on air. “Who said anything about marriage?”

“Oh come on,” Dan says, rolling his eyes. “We all know it’s coming eventually.”

Pierre would be lying if he said he hadn’t thought about it. But he wasn’t sure if it was the time for a proposal, not when you had just gotten back together. The last thing he wanted to do was go through the pain of losing you again because he was too forward.

“One day at a time,” Pierre says finally, dragging himself back to earth. “I just got her back a few days ago. I don't want to scare her off by proposing just yet.”

“Right. Well you might want to get a ring on that hand sooner rather than later,” Daniel notes, gesturing to the two men who had approached the girls. “How long are we gonna let that go on before we step in?” Neither of you paid the men any attention, instead enjoying each other’s company, but the men’s eyes roaming over your body sets Pierre on edge.

“They can handle themselves,” Pierre remarks, shifting on his feet. The weak attempt at self assurance didn’t do much to negate the red tinting his vision. “They’re fine.”

“Her sharp tongue will hold them at bay,” Daniel says, winking at his girlfriend. “For a while at least.” Props to Daniel for possessing inhuman amounts of restraint, but Pierre’s muscles were coiled and ready to interject at the first sign of trouble.

He has to pause to remind himself he doesn't own you. You could make your own decisions about who you spoke with and who you entertained as long as he was the one to take you home. He didn't care if you wanted to flirt; he knew it meant nothing and if you got a free drink out if it then so be it. But those were the rules: flirting, no touching. He'd step in if need be if someone took it too far.

But that didn't mean he had to enjoy it.

Pierre watches tight lipped as you politely chat with the man, your body language closed off and dismissive. Pierre hates that you even speak a word to him. He knows it shouldn’t bother him because he trusts you, but the stranger is a wild card. Pierre watches like a hawk as the man inches ever closer, slowly interesting himself into your personal space. He waits for you to take a step back, to grant him that silent permission to come over and insert himself in the conversation and get his hands on you, this proving you weren't on the market.

One of the men shouts something at you over the music and you leer back at him, clearly disgusted at whatever he had said. Whirling on him, you open your mouth, likely to snap out a profanity lined retort, when his hand latches onto your arm.

"Oh, fuck no."

Half a second later, Pierre is stalking across the dance floor, no thoughts other than teaching the asshole a lesson. His hands are already curled into fists, ready to swing if the man hadn't moved by the time he arrived. Tolerating someone hitting on you was one thing, but blatantly ignoring the clear dismissals and laying a hand on you? No way in hell was he standing by and letting that happen.

The resounding crack of your open hand hitting the man’s face has pride swelling in Pierre’s chest. That’s my girl. You’d solved the problem before he’d even arrived. You jab a finger in the man’s face, Daniel’s girlfriend right there with you to back you up.

“Fuck off,” you were saying as Pierre approached, “or do you need to go back to kindergarten and learn to keep your hands to yourself? Maybe next time you’ll think twice before laying a hand on a taken woman- or any woman, for that matter.”

Driving your point home, Pierre slips an arm around your waist and pulls you in until your back is flush to his chest. You crane your neck up, the tense muscles beneath his fingertips and the fury contorting your features confirming just how rattled you are.

The lines creasing your brow are soothed away when you realize who holds you. You open your mouth to say something but Pierre places a hand on your throat, thumb and forefinger framing your jaw as he cuts you off with a kiss, his eyes locked on the guy still standing off to the side holding his cheek.

You taste like the champagne you’d been sipping all night. It’s the only thought in his head outside of the jealousy licking through his veins like wildfire as he claims you then and there in front of the crowd. Mine, his heart sings. He flexes his fingers, taking advantage of your surprised gasp to slide his tongue against yours. Mine, mine, mine.

Pierre lets you be the one to break away, lips curling in a smug, kiss-swollen smile as you address the men. “In case you still don’t get the picture, I’m not interested. And neither is she.” You jerk your chin, indicating your friend and Daniel, who had indeed followed Pierre and since mirrored his possessive stance, one arm wrapped tightly around his own girlfriend.

The two men reluctantly slink away after mumbling something unintelligible but undoubtedly indecent. It had been a week and a half since he had been on track and he had plenty of pent up aggression to get out. He didn’t normally opt for using someone’s face as a punching back as a stress reliever, but rulers were made to be broken. Your hand splayed on Pierre’s chest is all that stops him from following and asking them to repeat themselves.

“Just let me hit him,” Pierre says, voice far more level and put together than he had expected it to be. “Just one punch. That’s all I would need.” His knuckles smart like he had already connected them to the man’s face.

“And let you throw away your contract? I don’t think so. The last thing you need is a blurry photo of you knocking someone’s teeth in hitting the front page of every gossip mag in the country. I’m fine, so you can cut the bravado.”

“Yeah, I hear you.”

“I was wondering how long you were gonna leave us out here,” you say, trying to regain Pierre’s attention. When it doesn’t work, you grasp his stubbled chin and force him to look at you. “I didn’t expect to be stranded for so long.”

The eye contact is what finally calms his racing thoughts. Seeing the trust reflected in your face is enough to have his grip on your waist loosening to allow you to face him. “Someone convinced me you could fend for yourself. And while it seems that’s true, I couldn’t stand it anymore.”

Your satisfied hum is swallowed by the pounding bass but Pierre feels it rumble in his chest. “Sometimes even a queen needs saving.”

Though his point had long since been proven, Pierre’s hand slides down your back to rest on your ass nonetheless. “I knew you going out looking like this would cause trouble.”

You tip your head to the side, feigning innocence as you press your hips to his. You grin, noticing the hard on that had been bothering him all night. “Looking like what?”

“Drop dead fucking gorgeous,” he says, accentuating his point by sliding his hand up your thigh and under the hem of your dress. “You know I’m tearing this off you the second we get home, right?”

“Why do you think I wore it?”

The sound that escapes him is primal and possessive. The presence of bystanders does nothing to prevent him from palming your ass and kneading the flesh. He presses his lips to your neck and mumbles between kisses, “To torture me.”

You push lightly at his chest, laughing although your eyes dart around the space in search of cameras. Old habits were hard to break. “That may have been part of my motivation. But you’ll have to wait. I haven’t seen Dan in forever and I would actually like to have a conversation with him before we sneak off somewhere.”

At least you knew he wouldn’t be able to wait until you got home to get between your legs. “Fine,” he grumbles, hands settling on your hips. “Only because I love you.”

You beam up at him. “Love you too.”

Arm still slung around your waist, Pierre nods at Daniel and follows the other couple back to the table.

After two more drinks, you and Daniel's girlfriend are singing along to the music in lilting, off key voices, simply enjoying the night air. A stray breeze catches your hair just as you turn to look at Pierre and his heart damn near leaps out of his chest.

To his credit, Pierre’s cheeks are rosy from more than just the charged glances you throw at him as the night wears on. He was on his fourth beer, far more than he usually drank these days, and the buzzing in his head was becoming increasingly hard to ignore. When he has to squint to tell the time on his watch, he figured that was enough.

"I should probably get going mate," Pierre says, turning to Daniel. "Early flight."

Daniel laughs and beacons for the girls. He kisses his girlfriend's cheek when she returns with you in tow. "Are we leaving already?" You pout, and Pierre had half a mind to stay simply have your smile make an encore appearance.

"Car coming," he murmurs, dipping his head to give you a proper kiss. God, you were stunning in that dress- he might not be able to string together words coherently, but he knew that much.

"Fine." You cross your arms for a split second to convey your feelings on the matter before wrapping your friends in a hug and saying your goodbyes.

Pierre's hand is already on your ass before you're in the uber. Get a few drinks in the boy and he let his guard down. You laugh and pull out of his embrace to usher him into the sleek black suv. If he had been coherent, he probably would have chatted with the driver about the specs of the engine or maybe even racing if he was a fan. Instead the ride is filled with stolen touches and sloppy, wet kisses to your neck.

"I can't wait till we're home," he mumbles. "You're gorgeous. How did I snag you? You're so far out of my league. No way should you be with me."

"I have a thing for guys that go fast in circles on the weekends."

"Really?" Pierre frowns. "Should I be worried?"

"No. You're the only one I have eyes for." His head is fuzzier than when you left the bar but your laugh breaks through, his stomach flipping at the melody of it. "And we are home."

Pierre blinks, realizing he does indeed stand in your kitchen, with no recollection of climbing the three flights of stairs between the street and your flat. "Oh. When did that happen?"

"After I half dragged you up the stairs." You bend over to undo the straps of your heels, giving him the perfect view. He lets out a whistle that ends in a hiccup.

"Take me to bed, lover," he says in what he thinks is a husky voice. It should be impossible for you to resist.

You roll your eyes and wrap an arm around his middle. "That's the plan. I'll take you to bed, strip you out of that sweater, and you'll be asleep before your head hits the pillow."

"Nnnnnno," he protests, hand sliding down your exposed back to settle at the base of your spine. "I wanna make the most of tonight. I leave tomorrow."

"You don't leave until noon," you point out. "Plenty of time to nurse your hangover and have fun before then, after you drink some water and get some sleep."

"But baby-"

"No buts. Do as I say or I'll send you off tomorrow without a goodbye kiss."

Even in his half drunken state he knew it was a swiss cheese lie, spotted with holes and completely stale. You'd never let him leave without a kiss goodbye because neither of you knew if it would be the last time. He was a race car driver after all, and that came with risks.

But he sighs anyways and slips off the cream sweater, letting it fall to the floor. At least one of you kept their promises.

After confirming he was settled into bed, you retreat to the bathroom. His heart aches at the absence, even though you're mere feet away with nothing but a thin door separating the two of you. He registers the sound of the tap turning on and your soft, off key humming of the last song he remembered hearing before getting out of the uber.

"Mon amour," he croons when you re-emerge in a set of silk pajamas. He reaches out his hands for you and you slide under the covers, immediately slotting your body against his. A leg hitches over his hip, tugging him closer until your middles touch.

"Mmm," he mumbles, nuzzling into your neck. "Je t'aime. Tu es l'amour de ma vie et nous vivons d'amour et d'eau fraîche."

"I have no idea what you're saying," you whisper, running your fingers through his hair. "But I like it. Feel free to keep going."

"Tes baisers sont du feu et je fond à ton toucher." He presses his lips to your neck before resuming his mumbled French. "Je pense toujours à toi. Je veux être avec toi pour toujours. Tu as mon cœur et je ne voudrais pas qu'il en soit autrement."

"I like the sound of that." You press a soft, sweet kiss to his forehead. God, that tenderness was why he loved you. That, and your personality, and your eyes, and your… everything. "Dormir, my love. I'll be here to listen to your pretty words in the morning."

The single word of his mother tongue on your lips has him smiling. "Oui, tu le feras. Parce que tu es à moi et je suis à toi."

@seasidetom @flashcal @limp-wrist-max @sunshinesewis @lifeofzoemichael @ninuffi @perfectfantasies22 @lamboleglerg @ladyperceval @0forgottenparadise0 @evie-pr @avsensio @ninuffi @lu-morningstar @ggaslyp1 @swiftyhowlz

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wdwmarveldisney · 3 years ago

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🥺👉👈 Could I maybe request a doctor who x reader with a younger, more innocent teenage reader? And the doctor gets protective over them, especially when they could be in danger. Any doctor could fit. (sorry if this is not enough information I'm new to making requests)

Let them go

Eleventh Doctor x platonic!teen!reader

Summary: When the Doctor takes you to your favourite musical, things once again don’t end well.

Masterlist

A/N: Ok so I loved this request and thank you so much. You are so sweet. Don’t worry about how information there is, I just hope that you like it. I may have mixed a little Newsies in here because, well I love it and I honestly think about how I would a hundred percent ask to go there if I was travelling with the Doctor.

Not my GIF

Shaking violently when travelling seemed to be the only flaw of the TARDIS and even then, it was only because the Doctor was a terrible pilot. He had tried to convince you otherwise but you'd met River on more than one occasion and she had actual evidence for her argument so excuse you if you sided with her. But that didn't mean that you hated it; every time it happened, you'd grin real big because it was just yet another reminder of the chaos that came with the Doctor. You had a usual place by the controls, one where you were often moved from during flight to avoid you being in the way. Most of the time you ended up in one of the seats, watching his every move in hopes of learning what any of it meant. River had promised to teach you when you were older, said you could leave the Doctor in the 1920s where he apparently thrived and she'd teach you how to the drive the TARDIS.

Right now however, you were here in 2017 New York, at your request. You had asked to see the recording of Newsies after a small (ok so maybe the exact opposite of small) obsession with the musical over the years. You were surprised when all the Doctor had to do was make a call and suddenly you were right at the front with the opportunity to go backstage afterwards too. The inner fangirl was hard to control as the two of you headed to the doors and you managed to stumble slightly but he had caught you before you could fall into the wooden doors. Pouting as he laughed, you tugged his bow tie hard making him stop with a frown and a hand going to readjust it. He scanned your attire with an amused smile which resulted in a flick to the head from you. "Ow, I didn't say anything!"

You walked out the TARDIS, breathing in the smell of hotdogs and petrol before facing him with a small frown, "You were thinking it. I can wear a Newsies shirt if I want to wear a Newsies shirt," he put his hands up in surrender as he walked out too and then quickly turned to lock the doors. You tugged at the shirt in question as you glanced round the empty alley, waiting for him. It was a few seconds before you felt an arm fall into your shoulders and quickly you began to walk to the streets with big smiles on your faces. In the small time you had come to know the Doctor, he had become like family. You had been quite sheltered growing up, never seen much trouble but that's kinda expected from a small town family. When you started travelling with the TimeLord, you saw a lot of bad stuff, things you had never even thought possible and so naturally, he was protective. He was like an older brother, maybe a dad ish vibe.

Your steps were in time with his as you approached the theatre, huffing at how long the queue to get in was. Finally in line, you tapped your foot patiently and suddenly, the question had slipped from your lips without much thought, "How did you get good tickets?" He paused, reaching up to fiddle with his bow tie nervously before straightening out his tweed jacket. He avoided eye contact and instead stared at the bright lights surrounding you guys, "Well, um, I helped write it. Historical facts and stuff," you watched him shrug with terribly faked nonchalance. Jaw dropping, your eyes went comically wide as you stuttered out, "You- They- What?" Unbelievable. Of course he knew about your obsession with the musical and failed to mention his involvement with writing it.

It was a couple hours later and you were waiting by the Doctor's side as the theatre cleared out. He had spent the whole musical jittery and chatty, clearly not good with just sitting there and watching. Several times someone had complained and you had had to talk with him about it. He was a literal child at times. But despite the fact he had muttered about his hate for Twitter after the girl next to you guys tweeted a picture of herself and her friend there, you enjoyed yourself. The musical was just as great as the first time you watched the recording, if not better. And now, you couldn't stop bouncing in excitement. You were actually going backstage, and you were going to meet the cast of a musical you have obsessed over for years.

But of course, with the Doctor, things never happened that easily.

The TimeLord had pulled out his sonic screwdriver to fiddle with while you waited and frowned at the noise it made. You caught his muttering and huffed, already knowing that look on his face. Concern, anger and a touch of excitement. "Don't say it," his eyes slowly left the device in his hands as he raised an eyebrow at your words. Someone was just leaving the backstage area but neither of you noticed as you sighed, "Why does something always have to happen? One good, non-alien day is all I ask. Is that even possible with you?" He grinned goofily at you with a breathy chuckle before raising the screwdriver in the air and scanning your surroundings. You jumped at the tap on your shoulder, facing the crew member with fists raised like that would do something. "Oh,"

"I was sent to get you. What's he doing?" You glanced to the Doctor, who now stood on one of the seats and you shrugged, arms crossing over his chest. Looking between both men, eventually you answered, "I find it best not to ask until he gets that look on his face," the guy frowned as he watched the Doctor jump from the seat and run up an aisle and look through one of the doors. As the two of you watched him lock the door with the screwdriver, the crew guy asked, "What look?" Going to respond, you stopped yourself once seeing the dark look of his face. The one that ensured mortal danger and most likely ended with the two of you saving the world. Again.

"That look," the guy watched you point to the alien as he made his way over to you by jumping over one of the seats. His arm landed on your shoulders as he huffed slightly from all the running round, "Right okay then, possible shapeshifter, very dangerous and kills for the hell of it. Also, amazing dancers and have a tendency to be really funny. Ready?" As he spoke, he looked the guy up and down in a calculating way as if he was possible suspect. You ignored the shock and fear on the guy's face in front of you and instead tilted your head in debate, "I mean, yeah sure," with a laugh, he clapped his hands together and approached the crew member. He too ignored the expression or he just didn't notice with how quickly his mind was now working. He smiled, hands clasped in front of him as he did another look over the guy before speaking, "Ok, we're ready to go. Should probably check out backstage first," he looked to you and you nodded in agreement. "Well," he paused as he placed his hands on the guy's shoulder, looking at him with a raised eyebrow. Panicky look still clearly painted on his features, his voice shook as he managed, "Carl,"

"Well Carl, lead the way," gripping the clipboard in his hands tighter, Carl turned around and began to walk up the stairs and backstage with the two of you following. You stared at your feet as you walked, pout on your lips as you thought, "So, when you say very dangerous...?" The Doctor paused before backtrack king to you and placing his hands on your shoulders whilst ducking his head down to meet your eyes. He had such certainty and determination that you knew he wasn't lying when he said, "Nothing bad will happen to you, I promise," a chuckle left your lips as you punched his shoulder, smile lighting up your face as he remained unbelievably serious, "Well duh. I've got my own hero. And you know I'd haunt the hell out of you," he shook his head, smile fighting it's way to his face as the two of you began to walk behind the curtain.

So apparently the Doctor isn't great with promises or at least, that's what you gather when the two of you were walking down a deserted corridor and something had grabbed you from behind. The last hour had been the two of you searching in the dark, trusting no one since this alien shapeshifted. Two crew members were found dead and another missing so the Doctor insisted on going to find her and well, naturally you followed without question. And now you had a claw to your throat as you whimpered at how hard the alien was pulling your hair. This made the Doctor turn, eyes darkening when he saw you struggling and crying quietly to yourself. "Let them go," it was practically a whisper but it echoed in the hall, making the creature laugh. "Why would I do that?" The voice was deep and distorted and almost robotic, "They'll be so much fun," the last word was spat, venom in the voice making whimper again. You shook violently and the Doctor met your terrified eyes with his remorseless ones. "Why are you here? Order the Shadow Proclamation states Earth is a Level five planet. Do you know what they'd do to you?" He took a few taunting steps forward, head almost bowed in anger.

A small scream left your lips as the claw made a small cut in your throat and the Doctor seemed to tense. Rolling out his shoulders, the TimeLord uncharacteristically smirked as his fingers toyed with the screwdriver in his hands and he laughed almost hollowly, "I know about your people. I have fought your people time again and again and again. And do you want to know what I remember?" There was a pause in his words, only audible thing being your small cries, "You really don't like high frequencies," he raised an eyebrow as he pressed a button and the alien began to freak. His hands slammed over his ears and he stumbled back, essentially freeing you. You managed to make your way to a worried and panicking Doctor before the two of you rushed down the hall and inside a changing room. You fell back against the door as the whir of the screwdriver and the click of the lock and the huffs of your breaths filled the room.

Suddenly the small device was stuck in your face, scanning you up and down before you smacked it away. He gave you a pointed look before carrying on, no doubt scanning for any other type of harm. He was in protective mode which wasn't uncommon but could get annoying when he wouldn't stop checking up on you. With a frustrated expression, you snatched the screwdriver from his hands and shook your head when your eyes met, “I’m fine,” you made sure to emphasise the last word and the Doctor mimicked you under his breath like a three year old. Scoffing, you pointed the screwdriver at him in warning but he just simply took it back with a small huff.

And then there was a bang at the door and the two of you were reminded of the danger you were facing this time round.

#doctor who #doctor x reader #platonic #teen!reader #eleventh doctor x teen!reader #eleventh doctor #eleventh doctor x reader #request

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thewildwaffle · 3 years ago

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Agents of Discord - Part 2

Back by (very) popular demand, here's a continuation of THIS story. I jumped the queue of WIPs to get this done asap, and had fun doing it

*****

"Zerlix," Captain Piulo groaned as she rubbed the rough crest on her head, "this route only has a small handful of moments when this crew doesn't have to be on high alert. Why do you insist on filling those moments with your antics about the humans?"

"My antics?" Zerlix clutched the comm device harder. "Captain, did you not hear the recording? Human John outright admitted that they're all imposters and are going to kill us all! They're going to throw this entire ship into their own special brand of discord! Listen, listen, I'll play it again, here." He reset the audio file and Human John's one-sided conversation from when Zerlix started recording filled the room.

"Enough Zerlix, stop."

Zerlix’s claws scrambled to pause the recording, all the while Captain Piulo and a few other high-ranking officers seated around the meal table watched blankly. One feathered officer kept looking between Zerlix, the captain, and the half-eaten meal in front of them.

Captain Piulo sighed and pulled up a command screen on her comm device. “Let’s clear this up as quickly as we can, shall we?” Her short fingers scrolled through contacts before she found Human John and opened a direct call.

“Human John, could I have you join us at the meal hall as soon as possible?” Zerlix couldn’t hear the human’s response on the other end but assumed it was positive, as the captain then thanked him and closed the call.

The feathered officer finally decided the following awkward silence was an appropriate time to sneak in a few more small bites.

Thankfully, the human in question must have not have moved from the alcove where he’d been plotting everyone’s demise because it didn’t take long before he was walking into view.

As he approached, he patted his chest in the ship’s customary salute. “Captain Piulo, what can I do for you?”

“Human John, please take a seat,” the captain motioned to a spot on the long bench Zerlix was already on. John promptly sat on the other end. Zerlix tried scooting to the farthest part of the bench.

“Zerlix here has some concerns and claims you are planning to ‘sew discord’ and ‘destroy us all’. There’s even a recording of your conversation saying as much.” She nodded to Zerlix who played the recording again, a satisfied grin slowly spreading when the audio ended.

“Do you mind explaining?”

John looked from the captain to Zerlix who was now so far down the bench, they were close to falling off the edge. “Oh, so this is another Zerlix thing. Okay. Uh, yeah. I thought that was weird that you just left like that earlier.” John paused and pulled out the tablet he’d been on earlier in the alcove.

“I’m sorry if you misunderstood, Zerlix. I was talking about an old Earth game. It’s gotten really popular again lately and my friend was trying to get me to join a few rounds. I can show you all a round of the game if you’d like.” He tapped the small tablet’s screen a few times and held it up so everyone could see. “I left the round I was playing with my friends, so I don’t know if they’re done yet, but I can jump into a different room to show you how the game works if you want? It really is just a harmless game, totally for fun and that’s it.”

“If that will set minds at ease,” Captain Piulo nodded and nodded, “Proceed.”

John tapped a few more times and turned around so he could hold the tablet in a way that everyone could see the screen as he played. As the game began, John explained what everyone was doing and the goals everyone was working toward.

It took only about half a moortik before Captain Piulo cut him off. “I think we’ve seen enough. Thank you Human John. You’re excused to return to your rec time.”

“But Captain!” Zerlix protested as the human stood up. “He said he was going to kill! That he was an imposter! That… that… discord and chaos! We’re not safe with them arou-”

“Zerlix, stand down.” The captain’s voice immediately silenced everyone within hearing. She exhaled and brought her voice down as she continued. “I don’t know how much convincing it’s going to take to get to you, but I am nearing the limits of my patience while trying to find out. You overheard Human John talking about a game. Before that, you thought Human Nekpen was challenging you to a duel to the death. This ship has five humans aboard, and despite all your wild accusations, they have never done anything against anyone. We have a little less than half a cycle left before we reach the Chiru Strait.” At the mention of the celestial spacemark, several officers grimaced. It was not the most dangerous part of the route to Senbora 6, but it was pretty close.

Captain Piulo paid no heed and continued, “I will strongly suggest you take that time to visit the medbay.” The captain’s tone indicated what she was saying was more than just a suggestion. “Doctor Fah can fit you in and hopefully start helping you get over this severe paranoia you seem to be experiencing. I need you at full capacity, not hindering yourself because of unwarranted fear from your own crewmates of all things.”

Zerlix sat there, dumbstruck. This was not how this conversation had been expected to go.

“You’re excused, Zerlix. I will let the medbay know to expect you soon.”

***

The medbay was not particularly busy, but Zerlix still had to wait to be seen. Just insult to injury at this point. How did no one else see this? How the frewan had the humans been able to pull cover once again?! It would be almost admirable at this point if it weren’t so flargin’ exasperating! And this time, it had only ended in a blubkus trip to the medbay for the trouble of trying to expose them.

A sudden bump knocked Zerlix out of their silent fuming.

“Oh, sorry about that,” the only other occupant of the small waiting room creaked. Jannoah, a young Toanoaktree scooted the offending barky leg back. Small leaf growths along their shoulders and arms were trembling slightly. “Are you okay? I was just playing a game and I got startled and jumped. I didn’t mean to do that.”

“You’re fine, I’m fine. No harm done,” Zerlix muttered in reply as they readjusted their seat.

The waiting room returned to silent normalcy. Or actually, not silent. Zerlix just had been too deep in fuming thoughts that they hadn’t noticed the sounds coming from the tablet the crewmate held in their branch-like hands. Voices were talking and laughing in conversation. At first, Zerlix thought maybe Jannoah was watching a video or something until they responded to a question one of the disembodied voices asked.

Zerlix sat up a little straighter to see what exactly was going on. Toanoaktrees don’t have great eyesight, so Jannoah didn’t seem to take notice.

Colorful characters were running around the screen in what Zerlix recognized as the “game” Human John had been “playing” earlier. This time, however, the screen was split with another box that had circular pictures and text. A green outline kept moving from one circle to the next as voices changed. What was this?

“Oh hey Zerlix,” Jannoah must have noticed after all, “Have you played this yet? The humans showed me and helped me set up an account. Or well, accounts. One for the game and one for Discord.”

Zerlix froze. There it was again. Discord. The humans were spreading it under the guise of this deceptive, vile game! Dread and vindication pulsed through Zerlix’s veins.

Jannoah frowned and tried to study Zerlix’s expression while still keeping an eye on the game. “Uh, you okay? I didn’t knock you that hard, did I? I’m so sorry.”

A confused voice spoke up from the tablet and the green circle changed places on the screen. “What are you talking about Jannoah?”

“Oh, nothing sorry! I was talking to my crewmate, asking if they’re okay. I’ll mute my mic for a bit. Hold on.” With a quick tap, Jannoah looked back to Zerlix expectantly. “Sorry, I didn’t realize they could hear me on that. Are you okay?”

Zerlix didn’t respond at first, never taking their eyes from the tablet screen. “How are they talking to you? Who are they?”

“Oh,” Jannoah turned the tablet to show the screen better. “Some new friends I met. Well, kind of met. Not in person at least, just online. Human John invited me to join this Discord server and everyone is really nice and invited me to play this game with them.”

Zerlix couldn’t believe what they were hearing. This was so blatant on the humans’ part! How could they be so bold in the open like this with their dastardly plots and still think they were going to get away with it?

Well, they supposed, the humans were getting away with it. That was the problem. Maybe… just maybe a change in tactics was in order. What did Jannoah say earlier? The humans helped ‘set up an account?’ Maybe in order to catch them, Zerlix had to get in closer to the situation.

“Hey,” Zerlix said slowly, “how do I get an ‘account’ on this discord server?”

#humans are weird #humans are space orcs #discord #video games #space #aliens #humans #spaceship #writeblr #original writing #prompt request #prompt fill

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ivy-goldrush · 4 years ago

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Wednesdays Are The Worst

Dumb things have dumb consequences.

Warnings: Grumpy!Bucky, Bucky being a dick, Angst, Eventual smut?, Slow Burn fic, Maybe a touch of jealous!Bucky, 18+ cause swearing

Word Count: 1633

It had been a week since the movie night, with your week being uneventful. On the Tuesday you walked into work met with the smell of peaches, finding out Bucky had been in on Monday and dropped them off, so Mary got to baking with them. Thankful that he had come in when you weren’t working, avoiding any type of awkward encounter.

You only had two shifts this week Tuesday and Wednesday, and then you weren’t in again till Thursday, giving you just over a week off. Thursday was spent running around and doing your food shop however on Friday, you had the definition of a Lazy day. You had messaged Steve a couple of times, but he was busy with work and was doing a lot of overtime. Wanda and Vis were out of town for the weekend visiting friends back home. Maria gad said that she was spending a long-awaited weekend with her girlfriend. You weren’t that close with Sam and Clint yet to hang out with them, meaning you and Nat had decided to spend Saturday night together.

The two of you had decided to go and hit the clubs for a much needed ‘get lose’ session. Nat had suggested that you get ready around hers so you left yours at half 4 in your comfy clothes and a bag of tonight’s outfit and makeup.

Her place wasn’t exactly walking distance to you, so you planned to take the train as it was only a couple of stops and then a ten-minute walk. The train journey was uneventful, and you ended up listening to music for the journey and the short walk to the apartment. By the time you had made it to her apartment, it was a few minutes past 5. Nat opened the door and immediately engulfed you in a hug, practically squeezing the life out of you.

For only knowing each other a short amount of time, the two of you got along like a house on fire. It was as if the two of you had known each other for your entire life, both having a very similar sense of humour.

Nat had already ordered Chinese for you two each whilst getting ready, along with a very large glass of wine. You quickly got down to getting ready, talking during the process.

“So, y/n, what are you wearing tonight?” Nat shot the question whilst she was focusing on her makeup, as you were taking your clothes out of your bag. “This!” You exclaimed as you span around holding an emerald green satin dress with a drape neck. Nat let out a wolf whistle as she laid eyes on the dress, looking it up and down. “Dam, that’s one hell of a dress. No doubt you’ll be the best dressed there.” Laughing at her comment, you sat down in front of the mirror next to her focusing on your makeup.

The makeup was simple, an everyday base, a slight natural smoky eye, eyeliner and a red lip. Leaving your hair in its curly state, as it cascades down your back, deciding to focus on jewellery pairing the outfit with some simple plain gold rings, a dainty gold bracelet and your gold detailed locket.

Nat’s makeup featured a slightly heavy smoky eye, bronzer and a dark lip. Her short hair was pin straight, framing her face. The only jewellery that she donned was a thick silver chain resting closely to her neck. She was wearing a tight black bodycon with black Louboutin’s and she looked absolutely breath-taking. You quickly slipped on your dress and gold heels, clutching your small matching bag, you took one last look in the mirror.

The both of you were wined, dined and dressed by 6pm, and out the door by quarter past. The two of you walked in tandem, arms linked and giggles erupting from you, as you made your way to one of Nat’s most frequented clubs. You were thankful that she was a regular because it meant that you were able to skip the queue that trailed beside the building.

Upon entering the club, you were met with the heavy base of music, shouting and neon lights. Nat immediately dragged you to the bar at the back of the club and plopping you onto a bar stool. Before you knew it drinks were placed in front of you two, appreciating the liquid courage as you swallowed it down, proceeding to do the same with several others.

Time was flying by and soon enough you had dragged Nat out onto the dance floor. Your bodies were swaying back and forth to the base on the songs, letting yourselves get lost in the moment and in a sea of people. You felt someone place their hand on your waist, trying to pull you back into them. Your eyes snapped open and your senses were on full alert as you quickly spun around, whipping yourself out of the person’s grasp. You were met, face to face, with some sleazy guy who wore an amused expression and from where you were you could practically smell the alcohol on the guy. “Well, aren’t you a pretty little thing, you playing hard to get.” The words were slurred and the man stumbled as he tried to get closer to you, prompting you to move further away from him, when he grabbed a hold of your arm. “Get the fuck off of me.” The words were spat as you stared directly into the man's eyes. His grip was persistent as you clasped your hand around his wrist, digging your nails into his skin in an attempt to draw blood. You held his gaze as you proceeded to raise your knee but before you could even carry out your attempt at kneeing him, he was shoved backwards, grip on your arm falling. He was currently being towered over by another guy. “I suggest you get the fuck outta here before I beat your ass.” Full of anger was present in his voice and you swore that if you weren’t surrounded by people, he would be beaten to a pulp right now. The new guy turned half around, showing you his face as he spoke to someone behind you. “Sam?” Your voice was hardly audible within the club.

All of a sudden, you felt yourself being lifted up and pulled out of the dance floor, leaving Sam to deal with the creep. You brought to the bar and gently placed down, allowing you to spin around to see who had taken you out of the situation. “What the hell, Bucky.” You knew your voice was loud enough for him to hear but he just ignored you, talking to the bartender. “Two waters please.” His voice was gruff, he still refused to look at you as he ran a hand through his hair, whilst you threw yours up at him.

As soon as the glasses were placed in front of him, he shoved one into your hand, the other in his. This allowed for Bucky’s free hand to secure a place around your waist, helping guide you in the right direction, but as soon as he tried to move you, you protested. “For fucks sake, doll, move your butt.” His voice was slightly strained as if he was holding back but the angry tone was very much evident. “What are you playing at Bucky?” Your voice was just above a whisper and the only response you got from him was a dramatic eye roll. “My God! Why are you so stubborn!” You made a small protest at his outburst, trying to bite your tongue, but not succeeding. “You know what? Fuck you, Barnes! I was nice to you but you were a complete and utter dick to me, so I'm so sorry that I didn’t give you a warm fucking welcome, but your not exactly rainbows and butterflies when you’re giving me whiplash with the way you behave!” With that you made your way in the direction you were originally heading, chest heaving, with Bucky turning and following suit.

It wasn’t long before the two of you arrived at a booth where Clint and Nat were sat talking. Bucky had come to a halt mere centimetres away from you, placing his hand on the small of your back giving you a small push towards them, earning him a muttered “Asshole” from you. The broad man just chuckled and proceeded to whisper in your ear “Fucking brat.”. Instantly, your body turned facing him and you reared yourself back slightly from him, before bringing the glass of water in your hand up and launching the contents at him. You didn’t think you just acted and the result was so worth it. Bucky’s face was dripping wet and his navy and white shirt was soaked. But the expression that was written on his face at first was shock until it turned and clouded into anger. Quickly, you pushed past him muttering that you needed to go to the bathroom.

You hadn’t realised that you had been followed until you heard Nat softly speak. “What happened back there? Are you okay?” The honesty and general concern of her voice was a vast contrast to the truth, uncaring . “I think I’m gonna call it a night, Nat, I’ll just cause more trouble with him, I’ll call myself a cab.” You turned to face the red head with a brave face. “I’m fine honestly, just tired that’s all.” You smiled smally at her. She had agreed to stay with you until the car arrived and walked you out to say goodbye. Soon afterward, you were seated in the cab and shortly on your way home. Naïvely hoping that things would just settle down on their own.

Taglist (Open, message to be added!)

@tonystankschild @angstysebfan @tanyaherondale @justab-eautifulmess @sunflowerbunny2 @yesfanficsaremylife @agos-505 @vicmc624 @brnel58 @ilovefood2165 @cc12-02 @lgbtomatoes @youre-a-wallflower-charlie @pspice639 @iheartsebandchris @photographyandcoffee @yourmomhahagetit @yippikaiyaymotherfucker @xoxonotme @stephiecake03 @daughterofthemoon92 @sourpatchspinster @rowenaravenclaw2-blog @weirdowithnobeardo @juliesland

If your name is highlighted, it means I can’t tag you for some reason, sorry in advance.

#Bucky Barnes #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes series #Steve Rogers #steve rogers fanfiction #sam wilson #vision #wanda maximoff #nat romanoff #maria hill #clint barton #tfatws #caatws #wednesdays are the worst #watw series

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curiousconch · 3 years ago

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Chase You / Chase Me (Pt. 1)

Part 1: Burning on the Edge of Something Beautiful

Catch up here: Series Masterlist

Chapter Summary: Alex finds herself personally affected by the Rothswell case and Gabe attempts to find out why.

Book/Pairing: Choices - Laws of Attraction / Gabe Ricci x MC (Alex Keating)

Words: 1.8k+

Rating/Warnings: Mature (16+) / implied sexual content, alcohol consumption

Disclaimer: Most of the characters as well as some dialogues belong to Pixelberry. I am merely borrowing them.

Wednesday Evening at McGraw Byrne

Back from a day in the courts, Gabe stepped out of the elevator and into the halls of McGraw Byrne. Eager to finish the day's work, he passed by the break room where he unwittingly heard something that made him instantly halt.

"Did you see how clammed up Keating became when you asked her that question?" Gabe heard Vanderweil's deep voice.

"Actually, I sensed something irked her during the ride back. Seems like I did strike a chord," a serious female voice replied, which Gabe presumed was Sinclair's.

He made the assumption that the line of conversation was about their visit to the Rothswell's mansion. Earlier that day, the law firm's major client Philip Rothswell, demanded that they see to the whole Lydia and Joey situation. So Gabe and Sadie instructed the associates to go see the young heiress, trying to give the firm more time to create a more solid strategy than playing family counselor.

When they were placating Rothswell, he noticed how Alex fidgeted in her chair as she listened to their client. The way her body pulled up every defensive stance in the book full with meaning.

Seems that what he just overheard confirmed his suspicions. Something was bothering Alex Keating. And like all things Alex, it piqued at his curiosity.

It irked him that he did, more than he was willing to admit. Seems like even as trivial as office gossip, as long as its about her, Gabe is guaranteed to take notice.

Hastening his strides, he continued on to his plush new office, the setting sun coloring the wood furnishings with a hue of orange. He tossed his briefcase on the khaki couch, his leather soles padding on the clean white carpet. Loosening his tie, he crossed the room towards his desk. He took off his coat, hanging it on the rack nearby and turned to face the glass walls which offered a much better view of the concrete jungle below.

His mind whirred as he rationalized with himself as to why he was so invested with Alex. He initially chalked it up as a familiar, primal response to her... attractiveness. Yet as he watched her emerge from every pressure test and challenge he and Sadie gave her, he can't help but root for her.

It's not just that. After a long time, Gabe wanted to be near someone. He wanted to hear what bothers them, their goals, even their history. A level of interest he never exhibited to his usual carnal pursuits.

She stirred up something sleeping within him, something he willed never to return.

Consumed by the thoughts of her, Gabe finds himself glancing at his Rolex and hatching a guise to know what made the mighty Alex Keating got so worked up about.

Sometime later, uptown New York

"Alex... Have you ever had someone like Joey mess with your head? It's not about smart or stupid," Gigi had asked.

Alex poked her fork at the piece of chocolate soufflé as her mind whirled back to the ride back to the office.

"I'm not buying you any more of that Riesling if you wouldn't even bother being a worthy companion," Gabe teased, before downing another glass of scotch across her.

Her head immediately perked up, breaking free from her introspection. Alex forced a smile in response.

"As if another glass would make a dent in your indomitable fortune," she leaned back, trying to hide her thoughts under the façade of her sarcasm, rolling her eyes at him for added effect.

The two find themselves in a swanky New York restaurant, its upscale interior design worthy of the five star Yelp rating. The sleek tables and gray scandinavian chairs made Alex grateful that her wine red dress fit among the crowd. With a private booth overlooking the city lights and the delicious gourmet food served, she did not regret accepting Gabe's dinner invitation to meet a client.

Her mind decided that more work and Gabe's company was a great way to distract herself from the nagging of her memories, and it didn't hurt that the senior partner was easy on the eyes.

And when the supposed big shot canceled at the last minute, Alex completely saw it as a win.

"Something bothers you." Gabe suddenly articulated, breaking her from her contemplations.

Alex's brow arched in reply, as Gabe stated it like a fact, not as a question.

Crossing her legs under the table, she folded her arms across her chest.

"And why does that concern my pretend-boyfriend, hm?" she interjected, hoping to evade his interrogation.

"You're not the only astute one in this booth," Gabe let his eyes trail across her defensive stance the second time today.

Throughout the course of their meal, the heat between them simmered as well as the flow of their usual banter. Their chemistry was palpable, convincing even the waiter of the restaurant. The cocky man was certainly redefining the phrase hot and cold for Alex. He quickly and easily shut down her attempts to flirt, pulling back when the temperature between them reached a boiling point.

But Alex was more surprised, pleasantly so, when Gabe briefly opened up about his past and the vague explanation of why he's still not settled down.

She sensed the current trajectory of their conversation was what Gabe planned to have all along.

But now, as she swirled the remaining expensive liquid in her glass, trying to decide whether to put her guards up or to just give in, she couldn't deny the uncharacteristic softness in his gaze. It was magnetizing, making Alex want to fold and drop her pretentions.

She watched him as he seemed to eagerly anticipate for her retort, a half smile lingering on that pretty mouth of his.

Alex knew he won't push her if she didn't want to, yet a part of her wanted to share the heaviness that weighed on her shoulder since meeting Lydia Rothswell. Of how much the teenager reminded her of her old, naïve self.

She's been trying to rack her brain for a reasonable explanation for her growing desire to introduce herself to Gabe more than she'd allowed the string of men that she had trysts with. Despite her continuous self-denial, her gut is telling her that Gabe wasn't like any other she crossed paths with.

Making up her mind, she decided to let the door open. Maybe just a little.

She sipped her wine beckoning some needed courage, wishing that she ordered something stronger.

Taking a deep breath, she began, her eyes fixed on the view behind him.

"Since you were wondering, my otherwise impeccable track record is stained by one mistake," she paused, finally turning her gaze to Gabe's waiting eyes.

"Like Lydia, I trusted the wrong person," she continued. "I... risked everything and got nothing."

Gabe's mouth twitched ever so slightly, sensing a fluttering in him because of Alex's candor. There was no trace of the witty comebacks he'd grown to see in her, only vulnerability.

And somehow, he adored her more.

He watched her as she bit her thumbnail, an action greatly contradicting the fiery personality she projected in front of everyone else.

Alex gritted her teeth as she fought back the overwhelming emotions as she stopped herself from revealing more than she's prepared to. Not yet, not tonight, she thought.

"But I woke up from that nightmare, solemnly swearing to myself that I wouldn't repeat the same wrong decision that almost railroaded my whole future," she concluded, determined not to expose herself any further.

A hush fell between them.

Alex raised her head to meet the eyes of the man that made her walls crack, expecting to find intrigue. Instead, she found a subtle look of understanding.

It's as if it was telling her that he knew. He knew every pain and every hurt that she wanted to just forget and bury inside a box, never to be opened again.

Just because for him, pain was a familiar companion. That like her, he too, has been through hell and back.

And while she relished under his attention, her breath slowed, letting herself be trapped within the depths of those reassuring brown eyes. Alex thought nothing can make her drop down her guard, but Gabe's next actions proved that there's still more he can do to break down her walls.

Without thinking, Gabe reached for her hand and took it in his, skimming his own thumb on her knuckles in an attempt to comfort her. He smiled warmly at her, expressing a gentleness that she never thought he was capable of.

It made Alex's heart skip a beat.

Even Gabe seemed to slowly enter the same daze, unable to veer away from Alex's unguarded view. Any remnants of his resistance, leaving him. He found himself leaning in, lured by the heady scent of her perfume - a mix of coffee, vanilla and jasmine. An unexpected combination that enticed him more to her.

For a few moments, their world stood still, as if they were on the edge of discovering something that all their lives they subconsciously sought.

Something more than any flirtation or any pursuit for lustful pleasure. Something more...

"More drinks, Gabe?" a familiar voice broke them from the temporary oasis that they pulled themselves in.

All of a sudden, they were sucked back to the reality of their actual surroundings. The noise of other patrons of the restaurant, the soft ambience of the lights overhead, and the fact that he was her current boss, and that she was under his professional supervision.

Gabe turned to James, their waiter, and refused the offer nonchalantly, and instead asked for their check.

"We should head back to the salt mines, the stack of work on my desk probably hasn't gotten any smaller since we left," Gabe casually said, erasing any trace of what just happened between them. Alex silently agreed, following his queue by checking her phone for emails.

The trip to the lobby was wordless, as well as the wait for their ride. Up until Gabe opened the door of the town car, not following Alex inside.

"Aren't you coming?" Alex inquired, briefly confused.

He cleared his throat, his expression stoic before he answered her. "I think its best if we part ways here. I wasn't kidding about needing to head back to the office," he paused, a look of contemplation in his eyes before it softly shifted to that of sincerity.

"You, on the other hand, should go home and get some rest. Partner's orders."

Alex couldn't help but smile. "Whatever you say, Gabe."

"Careful, Alex. I just might hold you to that promise one of these days," Gabe replied, the usual playfulness evident in his tone.

And with that, the door closed and the car pulled away.

But as Gabe watched the vehicle fade out of his sight, his phone pinged for an email. Glancing down at his screen, he saw the name of the sender, prompting him to open it in haste.

The message contained a single statement: "I found what you asked me to look for." An attachment was included.

When he opened the file, he saw a picture of a younger version of the woman he just parted from.

And a look of recognition passed over his face.

Author's Notes: This is getting a little canon divergent, though I'm just expanding their dinner conversation and using the intimate setting provided in the original book.

Tags: @adiehardfan @pixelnutrookie @starryjieun @fucking-random1 @choicesficwriterscreations

Thank you for reading! Let me know if you want to be tagged or removed on succeeding installments. If not, please reblog or comment, I'd really appreciate it!

#choices laws of attraction #choices fanfiction #choices loa #choices loa fanfiction #choices laws of attraction fanfiction #gabe ricci #gabe ricci x mc #choices fic writers creations #fics of the week

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reidecorating · 4 years ago

Text

Like Ivy

Request: “Being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me.” and “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you.” I’m thinking something Christmas-y with Reid - Anon

A/N: I do apologise for procrastinating on getting this out, but I wanted to make sure it wasn’t terrible. Merry Christmas to all of you who celebrate it, my present to you is the longest fic I have ever written. I had so much fun writing it so I hope you guys enjoy reading it! Happy holidays <3

Pairing: Spencer Reid x BAUFem!Reader

Word Count: 7.7k

Summary: Best friends yearning & best friends pining - but make it festive. Entails Secret Santa, the classic penny behind the ear and waltzing.

Warnings: Fluff, proceed with caution :)

The Cathedral of Santa Maria. Spencer had finally put his finger on it. The small glass dome encasing a building, with doors small enough to allow entrance to ladybugs who may practice religion, adorned unmistakable timely Italian architecture and ornamented pine trees, all dusted with flitters of snow. For the past week, Spencer had caught sight of the trinket each time he wandered past where it sat, as one of the few other decorations surrounding the name plate displaying in gold Times New Roman ‘DAVID ROSSI’, on the often unoccupied desk. So, he gathered that it must be important. Filing away his final stack of paperwork for the night, a silver paperclip glistening in the artificial light, Spencer made a mental note to ask the man about it the next morning. Standing from his usual office chair slouch, he stretched his limbs, feeling a series of clicks in his back as he regained his posture, only to bend back down in reach of his satchel. He made his way home giving tight lipped smiles of encouragement to the few agents sprinkled about the room, working over time. Haphazardly, he pushed the arrow pointing downwards with a cardigan clad elbow. As if on queue, his phone buzzed to the simultaneous ‘ding’ of the lift.

I understand you’re nocturnal, but I hope you’ve gotten home by now! If not, text me when you do so, safely :)

He didn’t realise he was grinning from ear to ear until an aggravated looking bureau member from a floor above, evidently itching to get home, cleared his throat to gain Spencer’s attention. “Sorry,” he grimaced. Noticing the button for the ground floor having already been lit up, Spencer stepped inside and stood as far away, as was possible in the small space, from the rankled looking man and his briefcase. A dimple appeared on his cheek as he remembered you, two years, three months and seventeen days ago - not that he was counting - offering him cherry scented hand sanitiser from a small bottle, and, only after he’d nodded, gently grasping the tips of his fingers to steady his shaking hand as you poured the gelid liquid into his palm. The act was so pure he chose against telling you that while alcohol based hand sanitisers reduce the number of microbes on hands in some situations, they don’t eliminate all types of germs - making soap and water the most effective way to go. Since then, you occupied his thoughts in the same way ivy grew along bricks of long forgotten towers. In abundance, in the most beautiful way. He turned his attention back to the tiny mobile he was holding.

On my way right now. I have a date with microwaved leftovers at midnight, can’t miss it. Will do.

The next time his phone buzzed was when he’d dozed off on the way home, using the concave pane of a metro window as a shoulder to lean against. He waited until his feet landed on the uneven pavement of his stop to open it.

Tomorrow you have a date with a properly cooked meal, at mine. What is it that Hotch always says? That’s an order, not a request.

Spencer’s heartbeat quickened as he read what you had written, his brain immediately carrying variables in an effort to slow it down by convincing himself that friends make each other feel this way. However, when he counted the rose flush on his cheeks and nose whenever you were around, the looks you shared which said more than words ever could and the way you held each other nearer than the distance between the sky and the ocean where they met at the horizon after close calls and mentally grappling cases, it didn’t quite equate to being just friends. Dwindling leaves clinging to their branches shuddered as scissors of winter wind pruned the trees scattered about. Spencer’s pale hands slid into his coat pockets, hiding from frostbite. On the short walk to his apartment, he admired the twinkling lights on either side of the streets, feeling as if he were a plane which had just landed upon a runway in the night. Candy canes, reindeer and eccentric portrayals of Santa Claus glowed amongst bushes and on porches, making Spencer wish you were there to see them too. It wasn’t rare he found himself wanting to share everything he did with you. Pretty things made him think of you. Eventually reaching the familiar building, tiredly, he followed wreaths and holly all the way to his undecorated apartment door.

You? Cooking? I’ll bring a fire extinguisher. Home safe. Goodnight, sleep well.

He kept his promise, despite seeing the time was nearing to one in the morning and being doubtful you were still awake.

Hilarious :/ and I will, knowing you’re alive. Goodnight Spencer :)

Spencer coveted for nights when he could tell you goodnight from right beside you, perhaps with his hand draped around your waist while yours tugged at his hair. He wanted to fall asleep to the scent of your skin and whatever soap you’d picked up from the store that week, not the quiet hum of his vintage fan. His microwave beeped, acting as an alarm to return down to earth from the clouds, presenting him with far less than gourmet potatoes. Realising he would take your burnt cooking over this any day, he settled for a sandwich.

∗∗∗

“Did you know that snowglobes were invented in France. They were first introduced as ‘water globes’ at the Paris Expedition Fair in 1889, and, to no surprise, the first snow globe actually contained a tiny scaled Eiffel Tower covered in snow,” Spencer lectured, almost putting the two agents who had struggled enough to get out of bed, back to sleep. The days were slow. Annual leave for a majority of the bureau was looming nearer and files kept them busy as the jet gathered dust. “Glad to hear the French contributed something, other than their opprobrium of a language, to this world,” Emily complained, from her desk. “Well, baguettes… Croissants, parachutes… Aspirin-“ Spencer was halted by the unimpressed look on Rossi’s face, as he hovered on the edge of Spencer’s table, a bushy eyebrow raised in vexation. “What’s with all this talk of snowglobes, kid?” The older man squinted at Spencer, craning his neck towards this, the way he did to suspects behind the glass of an interrogation room. “Since you brought it up,” he smiled smugly, swivelling in his chair from one side to another. “What’s the story behind the Santa Maria sitting on your desk?”

“Yeah, the eighties have come and gone, Rossi, isn’t it a bit late for repentance?” Emily let out a sly smile, walking over to also lean against Spencer’s desk with a steaming mug in hand. “It was a gift from my grandmother, handmade, I take it out every Christmas to help get in the festive mood,” Rossi explained. “Also, that was very funny Emily but now… I can’t help but recall what Garcia told me about the time you got a little tipsy and licked peanut butter off J-”

“No one told me it was National Congregate Around Spencer Reid’s Desk Day today.” The three agents turned their heads in unison to find who the voice belonged to, Spencer’s breath hitching at the sight of you. You stood before them, an upturned magician’s hat in hand, semi-curious as to what the ending of Rossi’s sentence would have been if it weren’t for you interrupting. “Y/N!” Emily waved, flashing a smile. “You’ve taken an interest in magic and didn’t even think to tell me,” Spencer feigned a hurt look. “Spencer, I knew magic wasn’t for me after I did the card trick you taught me, wrong . Six times,”

“It was seven. Plus, the student is never as good as the teacher,” he suppressed a smile. “Or maybe the teacher just isn’t good,” you raised an eyebrow at him. “That’s a little hostile, someone didn’t get enough sleep last night,” Spencer defended himself, putting his hands in the air. His eyes held a glimmer of mischief as if to say ‘we know something that you don’t’ when they met yours. Emily’s jaw dropped. “That… Didn’t sound suggestive at all,” Rossi pursed his lips in concern, looking back and forth between the pair of furiously blushing agents. “Maybe it was, maybe it wasn’t,” you winked at Rossi. Basking in the radiance of your laughter washing over him like the sun, Spencer chuckled along. “Anyway, what’s with the hat?” Emily questioned. “This,” you shook it by its brim, “contains the remaining names for this year’s Secret Santa, courtesy of Miss Penelope Garcia. I was just ordered to present it to you all. She calls it being her ‘little elf’ - I call it unpaid manual labour - but pick a name, any name,” you encouraged. You watched as Spencer’s tongue comically poked out as he eagerly concentrated on picking a name, elbow bent at a worrying angle. “I just want to say that every time I get a gift that isn’t alcohol, I’m slightly disappointed,” Emily turned to you as it was her turn to fish for a piece of paper. “I’ll keep that in mind,” you grinned at her. You watched Rossi’s expression as his eyes skimmed the name in his hands. “Oh, and Rossi, yes, there’s a budget,” you called over your shoulder, causing them to laugh as you gave them a wave. Slinking away from the comity of the bullpen, back to Mrs Claus’ lair, you retrieved the only remaining name. You paused in the hallway to double check if you’d read the glittery scrawl correctly. Spencer Reid. It was just your luck. You were prepared to engage in hand to hand combat with Garcia, seeing her office looming ahead. “Penelope. I hate you. I love you,” you kissed her cheek, placing the top hat on her curls, “but I hate you.” She recognised the tone, beaming at the implications. “Thank me later, beautiful!” She called after you as you rushed away to get started on completing the mountains of reports you had been avoiding thus far.

The day had come to a close, a headache making a home for itself in your head. Scanning the, now, mostly empty room, you caught sight of the back of Spencer’s uncombed head. Double checking that not enough people were around to be reprimanded by HR for misconduct, you inconspicuously made your way over to him snaking your arms around his neck and burrowing your nose in its crook. “Hi,” he chuckled, amused at the sudden affection, his unoccupied hand immediately reaching to grasp one of your wrists. Spencer had followed your strict, but coffee induced, orders earlier that morning telling him not to distract you unless, one, he was dying, or two, something was on fire, because you were determined to finish the numerous write-ups you had left until today. “Hi,” you mumbled into him. “Ready to go home?” You asked sweetly, arms still slung around him, pulling your face away to get a glimpse of his soft features. Your heart stopped for a little while, at the beauty of him. He was breathtaking. You refrained from tracing the small bump of his nose with your own, and settled for admiring the five o’clock shadow presaging a hidden jaw. The part of Spencer that craved domesticity was enchanted by your simple question, the word home resounding in his head, acting as an old film reel for projections of images of the two of you together; leaving work together, going home together. Little did he know that, as if through an unnoticed telepathy, just a few inches away, the same images occupied your own head. Coming home to an empty apartment had become tedious. You allowed yourself to give into your daydreams of returning home to Spencer - with Spencer. Spencer, with his warm eyes and words that drip like syrup from his tongue. You wanted nothing more than to revel in him filling your senses once the cologne from the day had been washed away, and hear him harp on about the history of mattresses, attempting to retain questions to ask him later in your memory bank, as you capitulate to sleep. “As a matter of fact, I finished most of what I had to do last night so I am ready to go… home,” he tested out the word, to which you had assigned a brand new connotation, feeling a flutter in his chest. You quickly rescinded your arms as you peripherally detected a flock of agents returning from what you assumed was an afternoon break. Spencer suddenly missed your body on his. Having already packed your things, feeling accomplished noticing that the pile of folders on your desk had shrunk significantly, you packed Spencer’s things to save him time, aimlessly throwing the strap of his satchel over his head for him once he had ungracefully shoved his arms into a blazer. “Hang on,” you gently pulled at his shoulders to meet your height, carefully fixing his tag and creased collar. The blush on his face, at the feel of your cold fingers brushing the nape of his neck, said everything he didn’t - save a meek, “Thank you.” You smiled at him in return. “Wait,” his eyes widened, “I need this,” he mumbled, reaching into the bottom drawer of his desk, pulling out a large black bag, decorated in gold intricacies. He didn’t explain it, but you knew that if Spencer had something to say, he would come out and say it, just all in good time. “Now are you ready?” You eyed the thing curiously, and glanced back at him. “Let’s go,” he motioned his arms in front of him, with a small nod, letting you lead the way.

Afternoon rays of sun fought their way through clouds, battling with the winter air to warm the people mingling outside as you made your way towards the crowded station. “Penny for your thoughts?” You asked, intuitively slipping an arm through his when the sun began to disappear altogether. Your cheeks grew warm as you realised your compromising position, feeling your heart rate return to its usual pace once he relaxed into your touch. “Hm?” He turned to look at you, letting his river coloured eyes unabashedly scan your face. “You look like your mind is far away,”

“What’s on my mind is definitely not very far away,” he said, quietly. That glimmer had returned. You noticed that the crease between his brows had disappeared, indicative that whatever thoughts were rattling through his brain, were good ones. You hummed a smile, content with his contentedness. “So… Hand it over,” he extended a palm a second later. “Hand what over?” You asked, genuinely confused. “A penny,” he said as if it was obvious. You blinked up at him, unfazed by the joke, as he bit his lip provokingly. All of a sudden he stopped walking, eyes still on you. “Just… Hold on a moment,” he whispered, squinting at you as he reached a hand towards your cheek. You remained still, thinking that Spencer had finally lost his mind. “Here it is!” He exclaimed, breaking out into a smile as he retrieved a one cent coin from behind your ear. “What!? You’re kidding! That was brilliant,” you beamed at him, eyes wide in bewilderment. “For a second there I thought you had gone crazy,” you teased. “Magic does that to people,” he nodded, satisfied with how impressed you seemed. “Ah, but alas, you gave me a very ambiguous answer, so I,” you snatched the penny from his fingers, “am entitled to a refund.” Spencer shook his head with a soft smile. “You might need to use that for the bus if we miss the next train,” he informed, hurriedly examining the watch on his upturned wrist.

No trains were missed, that day, the two of you arriving at your door in time for the six o’clock news. “Here, let me take your coat,” you offered, putting it on the small rack beside the door, placing yours adjacent to it. Spencer relished in the warmth of the place, setting his things down. “So, I’m thinking we get a proper meal in us, and then you can help me decorate this dreary place,” you instructed. He wanted to let you know that anywhere you are is far from being dreary, but something told him that was far too sappy, so he settled for a simple, “Sounds good.” He took in the familiar apartment, its walls embellished in old paintings snagged from secondhand stores and books scattered about on almost every horizontal surface, in a certain disorderliness that said, yes it’s messy, but everything has its place. “Also, I hope you know that you’re only leaving in the morning so make yourself at home.” It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence for the two of you; you falling asleep at his apartment out of feebleness, him at yours, and more often than not, it involved discarded games of Scrabble as the two of you settled for debating the rules instead of actually playing. Lately, he’d been craving it more and more - and so had you. Spencer would never say no to that offer, but he was taken aback. “But I didn’t pack- I don’t have-“

“Eidetic memory is slipping I see,” you giggled at his flustered state. “I told you, I kept finding toothbrushes, sweaters and socks here every time you left, so I made a drawer full of your things, since you practically live here anyway,”

“An entire drawer? I didn’t think I was missing a whole lot,” he responded, nose tinted red. “I have to water my plants quickly, before I put dinner on, but feel free to shower,” you said, still laughing quietly. “Let me help cook, first. You need someone to disassemble the smoke alarm,” he raised an eyebrow at you. One ‘KISS THE COOK’ apron and half an hour of seasoning a chicken, spilling sweet potatoes and bumping elbows later, the two of you stood back from the counter, you boasting to Spencer about how nothing had turned to ashes, and him pointing out that the oven hadn’t been turned on yet. Soon after, you put the oven on high, humming an indistinguishable carol over the shower that could be heard running from the next room. A warm, tingling feeling overcame you.

By the time you had showered, Spencer stood serving - a well timed and flawlessly cooked - chicken, wearing mitts matching the baggy flannel pyjamas keeping him warm on top of the open oven. “Smells good,” you complimented, slightly startling Spencer. He stood at the small wooden dining table, mouth agape at the sight of you. He was sure his heart was a puddle. “I like your sweater,” he praised. You glanced down slightly confused, shortly realising that your sweater, with its much too floppy sleeves, reaching a little way above your knees, was actually his. “Oh, I’ll wash it and give it back to you at some point,” you said shyly. “I was wondering where it went, but don’t worry about it, the colour looks nicer on you than it does on me,”

“Nonsense, you know that’s not true.” Soon enough, you found yourselves digging in - not before you expressed your gratitude towards food that wasn’t charred for the first time in months. You sat across from each other, your reindeer sock clad feet occasionally tapping his beneath the table. Spencer’s heart was full, marvelling at you from where he sat, wishing this could be something he could experience forever, much preferring it over a stale sandwich. You watched him intently through your eyelashes, chin resting on your interlaced hands while he taught you about how the thalidomide scandal emerging from Germany led to safer drugs in the pharmaceutical industry, the lecture prompted by an article he’d read recently. It continued into getting the dishes cleaned up, his rambling only being interrupted by your intermittent questions which incited further tangents, or requests to pass the tea towel. His voice was a ruffled silken sheet, on which you would like to lay for eternity. Admittedly, you found it difficult to focus on retaining any more information than the odd date, due to being too focused on the way his lips moved to form every word he said, hopelessly enamoured by the overly enthusiastic expressions he made to match the tone of what he was saying. Eventually, he wandered towards the living room as you stacked away the final plate, butterflies still spurring in your stomach from when his fingers brushed yours as he handed it to you.

“Spencer Reid effortlessly navigating technology, Christmas miracles really do exist, huh?”

“Actually, I just remembered watching you choose music, instead of paying attention to the road, that one time you drove me to work,”

“I was most definitely paying attention,” you huffed out a laugh, slightly bashful at the thought of him remembering small things you do. “You hit the kerb four times! That was the day I vowed to never let you transport me anywhere,”

“I see your argument, and I raise you with the counter argument: the kerb hit me.” Sitting with his back against the couch, legs sprawled out over the rug beneath your coffee table, Spencer couldn’t hold back his laughter. After watching you disappear into the kitchen, he busied himself with reading the holiday edition of Reader’s Digest laying on the table. He recounted you telling him that you had accidentally drunkenly subscribed to it, and never bothered to cancel the subscription, the first time you’d caught him reading an issue. You emerged a short while later, with drinks in both hands. “Bonjour monsieur, on tonight’s menu, we can either open this Merlot or, drink Capri-suns like the sophisticated adults we are. Your pick,” you said, hiding the juice pouches behind your back and noticeably waving the bottle of wine in front of you. “I have a feeling it isn’t my pick,” he let out a laugh, “so just fill a glass with enough Merlot for two,” you were on your way to get a glass before he had the chance to finish. “Your wish is my command!” You called. Spencer put down his magazine once he saw you rushing towards him with a large glass of wine in hand. “Of course you opt for Christmas Jazz over Mariah Carey,” you teased, hearing the music he’d queued floating from the withering speaker in the corner of the living room. It was the kind of music that would play in the diner of an expensive hotel, you noted. “I can change it if you’d like?” He began reaching for your phone, when you halted him by grasping his arm. “No, it’s good, I like your taste.” Spencer grinned sheepishly, taking the glass from your hand as you sat down beside him.

Hours of conversation and decking the halls with tinsel later, with wine flushed cheeks and twinkling eyes you moved the furniture to cater for your very own dance floor. Carefully, Spencer placed a hand below your ribs, touching you like new glassware, lacing the other with yours. Your unfettered hand, replaced the weight of the world as it rested on his shoulder. You recognised the look on his face as he settled into the close proximity, it was the same look that painted yours when you admired him whilst he failed to notice. The soft glow of a lamp illuminated the man you held, making an indistinct halo of golden light appear above his unkempt hair. “I apologise for any damage caused to your feet,” you giggled, struggling to find a rhythm. “Here, follow my lead,” he looked down at your feet. “The Waltz?” Dazzled, you raised an eyebrow, a few seconds after recognising the box-like steps in unison. Spencer tried to focus on anything but your lips, glistening in the dull light, so close to his. “Mhm, I’m not exactly the most co-ordinated-”

“You don’t say?”

“That’s tough talk for someone I’ve seen fall up a flight of stairs,”

“That sounds made up, but as you were saying,” you laughed into his chest. “It’s simple because its a repeating pattern. Did you know that name of the dance comes from the German word waltzen, which means to turn, or to glide? Some say the dance itself comes from the folk music and dances of west Austria, but others debate that it’s a variation of the Volta, from the 16th century,”

“Interesting, makes sense to debate that though. I’m pretty sure volta means ‘a turning’ in Italian - although that’s mostly in reference to the turn of a new thought or idea in sonnets… I’m thinking of Shakespeare,” you chimed in. “Sonnet one-hundred and thirty being a classic example of that,”

“Of course you would know that,” you shook your head in awe, cheeks hurting from grinning too wide. The incandescence of the smile that hadn’t left his face all day was mesmerising, the honeyed expression tied together with the dimples on his cheeks and creases around his eyes. “What would you like for Christmas?” He mumbled, lifting a moment of peaceful silence. “If you pulled my name out of the hat today you’re going to have to be a lot more subtle than that,”

“Unfortunately not,” he pouted. “Don’t tell anyone I told you, but I have Rossi,” he whispered the words into your ear, neglecting that no one else was around to hear. “What do you get a man who already has everything money can buy?”

“A new wife,” you joked, causing him to scoff. He studied your visage as you pondered his earlier question, still swaying to the soft piano sounds. “Honestly Spencer, being able to see you smile, being in your vicinity, just that is enough for me,” you finally answered, tilting your head up at him. Spencer thought his knees would give way. He thought his knees would give way, and he would hit the ground with enough impact to implode through the earth’s crust. In reality, he only stumbled over his feet momentarily, regaining his composure before you noticed him slowly becoming unhinged. “If that’s the case, I wish I’d picked your name,” he managed to utter, breathlessly.

The music which continued to play was drowned out by the sound of steady breathing, you were too caught up in each other to pay attention to the world. Wordless, you looked into his eyes, his actions parallel to yours. “You look beautiful right now,” he sighed. “Of course, you always look beautiful but, you know.” You shook your head, refraining from averting your eyes from his. He wished you believed it, promising himself to never abstain from letting you know until you saw yourself the way he did. “It’s funny you say that, because I was thinking the same thing. About you of course,” you rushed out the last part, realising the potential for miscommunication. “I love seeing you happy,”

“Well, as long as you stick around, you’ll be seeing a lot of that,” he spoke lowly, on the verge of telling you about all the things he felt for you. You hadn’t realised, but you had unconsciously moved closer together. You could feel his warm breath on your skin, lighting a fire inside your lungs, as he took yours away. Spencer saw all of the signs; the signs that this was not usual for a friendship. Maybe, if it weren’t for his defeated battle with fear, and doubt, he would have told you by now that he had fallen desperately for you. Spencer knew there wasn’t a drop of insincerity behind any of the kind words you spoke into him, he understood that you were his person, but he found it difficult enough to comprehend that someone could feel this strongly for someone. So, the implausible idea that someone could feel this way about him, was one he was not even prepared to entertain. “Y/N? I, um,” he tried, wearily. You gave him a soft smile, both tired arms laced behind his neck now as his rested on your waist. He dropped his sword. Once again losing the fight against his unreasonable insecurities, changing his mind at the last second. “I need to give you something,” his demeanour changed and he vanished from your line of vision. Your heart sank, hopes of hearing him say that the love you had for him was requited, fallen. Before you got too lost in your head, he emerged from the doorway with the same black bag you’d been inquisitive of. “Uh, here, this is for, uh, you,” he tucked his lip beneath his teeth. “Spencer…” you trailed off as he handed it to you. You sat yourself on the carpet, patting the spot next to you for him to join. “I thought I should give it to you now, since I’ll be in Vegas for Christmas,”

“Spencer, you really didn’t have to-“

“Go on, open it,” he ignored your humility. You gave him a look as you opened it - it being replaced with a look of elation as you realised what it was. In your hands, you held a scarf, long enough to hit the floor, striped in all your favourite tones. “I had to ask my mom for help with the tassels, but-“

“You took the time to make this? For me?” You exclaimed. Without thought, you draped it around his neck to tug him closer to you, throwing your arms around him in a tight hug. “This is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done for me, thank you so much,” you lauded, refusing to let go of him. “I think it was last winter, we were walking back to our hotel in Minnesota during a case, and you insisted that the both of us use my scarf to keep us warm, because you didn’t have one,”

“Ah, I remember that, except it ended up being one of the top ten worst disasters in U.S. history due to the height difference, and we both ended up falling face-first into the snow,” you giggled, recalling the way you had used up most of the hotel’s hot water afterwards. “Exactly,” he matched your expression, “seeing as you still haven’t bought one for yourself, even though we lose eighty percent of our body heat through our head and neck, I thought I would take matters into my own hands,”

“Well, I love it. You’ll have to tell your mother I said thank you and that I’m sending my love,” you finally dropped your arms from around him, out of fear of crushing his shoulders.

Once the zeroes had lined up on the twenty-four clock, Spencer sat where he usually resided on your bed, ardently admiring you as you folded away his gift. “Wait! Spencer close your eyes! Please!” You squeaked, immediately shutting the cupboard doors, realising your unwrapped present for him was hidden within. “Y/N? Is everything alright?” He asked, eyes now sealed shut. “I didn’t want you to see what I’d bought for Secret Santa,” you let out, too exhausted to form a coherent excuse. “We only got those names today - well, yesterday, now - so how did you manage to-”

“Shoot,” you cursed to yourself, knowing his unintentional profiling would lead him to the conclusion sooner or later. Spencer’s eyes slowly opened. “Okay, let’s say if, hypothetically, I had intended on giving you something for Christmas anyway, but then drawn your name today, would you, hypothetically, be able to act surprised when you receive it from me at work?”

“Hypothetically speaking, I would?” He squinted at you, stifling laughter. Your hair was slightly messy and your drowsy eyes were visible to Spencer even without his contacts in. He thought you just looked so adorable, wanting nothing more than to hold you and share your warmth. “Anyway, come to bed,” he beckoned, his voice gravelly, giving way for the day. Obliging, you shuffled towards your bed before sliding your cold feet beneath the covers. Spencer turned to face you, resting his cheek on an upturned palm. “Sorry for ruining the surprise,” you whispered, tucking the duvet under your chin, bright eyes looking through him. “You didn’t ruin anything,” he assured, treasuring the sight before him. There had been a shift in the air between the two of you. Spencer held the wine accountable, but he could sense that you felt it too, a level of intimacy that you had not quite reached during previous nights like this. “Come closer, I need to exploit your body heat while I can.” Spencer listened to your instruction, inching nearer to you, his heart rate so high he was sure you could feel it when you nuzzled your head into his chest. “Goodnight,” you felt his chest rumble. “Hang on, the night isn’t over yet,” you mumbled, “talk to me,”

“About?” He asked, amused by your grit to avoid sleep. “Anything you want,” you yawned. “You’re sleepy,” he stated, coaxing you into getting some shut eye. When you tilted your head up and continued to blink at him, he gave in. “Have you ever wondered why a lot of our most vulnerable conversations happen at night?” You nodded in response. “Well, a study done by the University of Colorado a couple of years ago concluded that natural light from the sun actually regulates your circadian rhythm, or internal biological clock, which standardises your sleep cycle. According to their study, this sleep cycle coincides with sunrise and sunset, meaning that if you regularly expose yourself to sunlight, your body enhances its internal clock to align more closely with the natural light cycle,”

“Based on that,” you contended, words slightly jumbled, “our circadian rhythm would vary between seasons, right? And yours would be different, since you’re a literal vampire, to say... someone who surfs down in Florida because of disparity in sun exposure?”

“Precisely,” he raised his eyebrows, “I’m impressed you’re still paying attention, you look like you’re already dreaming.” Spencer nudged your forehead gently with his own, causing you to breath out a laugh. “Alright, so how does all of that relate to being more vulnerable at night?”

“It relates in the sense that the rise and fall of the sun reflects in our physiological, as well as emotional behaviour. During the day, we’re a lot more active, and at night, we become more relaxed and receptive. Hence, since your mind is at ease, all the thoughts and emotions that might have felt jumbled up during the day become clear, making them a whole lot easier to express,”

“Mhm,” you managed, eyelids growing heavy. “Do you… have anything to say now,” you whispered drowsily, eyes now closed, “that you can’t say during the day?” Spencer couldn’t handle it anymore. He was already so fond of you but as his hand settled to rest around your waist, feeling your warmness, he believed his ribs could collapse from the way he felt inside. As you dozed off, gradually, winter became less cold in his arms and dreamscapes of his tea leaf eyes. “And, she’s asleep,” he whispered, minutes after silence, into your hair, “but to answer your question, yes,” his lips planted a chaste kiss on your forehead, “I love you.” Of course, unbeknownst to him, you weren’t asleep just yet.

∗∗∗

A couple of days went by, and as more time went on, the less certain you became as to whether Spencer had really even said the words, wondering if the whole thing was just a fatigue driven hallucination your lovesick mind had conjured up. Waking up beside him the next morning however, tangled in a warm cocoon of cotton and limbs, had left you feeling giddy, smiling like a fool with heart shaped eyes as he attempted to feed you the waffles he’d made - which the two of you gulped down far too quickly than sanctioned, to avoid being late for work. When you didn’t succeed, and the clock had beaten you by ten minutes, you both wrestled past evocative looks from the rest of the team for the remainder of the day, JJ even singing something about the two of you ‘sitting in a tree’ . The soft, shared, smiles and light brushes of fingertips when he handed you coffee in the mornings left you wanting to concede; let him know that you would walk on burning coal for him, the more logical side of you reminding you that professing your devotion to him over an open case file consisting of a double homicide, three days before Christmas, was far from ideal. Spencer wanted the kind of love only the poets could express. This had become evident the evening you took him to a midnight screening of ‘Un homme et Une Femme’. You recalled leaning into him to translate, catching sight of his welling eyes glimmer in the dim lit theatre. Believing his love should be celebrated, you decided to withhold the unsurfaced feelings a little while longer.

Later that week, you all gathered around the BAU tree, a small framed picture of Derek decidedly hanging from one of its upper branches after Garcia had to be heavily persuaded, and eventually bribed, to not place it at the top, arguing “But he’s my star.” Spencer snuck behind you, subtly placing a hand on your back to glide through and place Rossi’s gift under the tree. “I want to let you know that I’ve been practicing my ‘surprised’ face in the mirror,” he discreetly whispered against your neck, making you roll your eyes. “Okay super sleuths, I know we’re all itching to fly away for a break, but hold your reindeer, because we are yet to kick off our annual Secret Santa,” Garcia excitedly exclaimed, shuffling in with two large sparkling bags. “I thought there was a budget?” Rossi quirked. “Yes, sir,” she looked smug, “for you.” The team shared smiles at Rossi’s perplexed look. “So, who wants to start us off?” Garcia chirped. With that, the festivities were under way. You held tight an abnormally large heat sensitive mug, which you were sure would also reveal a promiscuous image once warm - a gift from Emily, who gave herself away by insisting it would help your caffeine dependency - watching as the others tackled ribbon wrapping paper. You threw an impressed look Spencer’s way, that glint of knowing something the universe doesn’t returning to your eyes, when Rossi opened a small portrait of what looked to be a Venetian cathedral, the Santa Maria to be exact. Once the banter and excited chatter had died down, everyone turned to the recipient of the final gift, neatly labelled Spencer Reid, enveloped in brown paper and tied with deep purple ribbon. Penelope looked as if she were about to pass out. Spencer’s shifting eyes landed on JJ as she mouthed a small ‘you’re up’, causing a smile to tug at his lips when he eyed you gazing at him with the soft look he adored. Your eyes lingered on his hands as they swimmingly untied the mauve knot and tore open the paper to reveal a large leather-bound journal. He examined the old looking thing, trailing his fingers along the convoluted golden details of the artistic interpretation of a moon calendar adorning its umber covers, partially covered by thin leather straps. His mouth was slightly agape, shaking a little at how well you knew him, clumsily catching the matching novelty pen before it slipped out of the wrapping and onto the floor. You had picked it up at a forlorn occult shop after it had caught your eye while looking out of place as it lay surrounded by large crystals. Knowing in an almost divine way that it should belong to Spencer, you had bought it. He couldn’t help but look at you briefly, communicating a silent gratitude. “This is amazing,” he ogled, “I love it.” Your heartbeat was in your throat. He was yet to find out you’d filled the first page for him.

Shouts of Merry Christmas, long hugs and season’s greetings were thrown around the room before, one by one, everyone slowly bade their goodbyes. While helping JJ clear away torn reds and greens of gift wrapping, you caught sight of Spencer, ears and cheeks scarlet, with his nose buried in his new, opened, journal.

“We are asleep until we fall in love," you looked up from Leo Tolstoy’s one thousand page book and recited to me, once. Since you walked into my life, I’ve been wide awake. You know that I’m never far away, but this is for the days you need to let out some of what you hold in, without saying it aloud.

I love you too, Spencer.

Spencer read and re-read the words until he was sure he could recite them like the Lord’s Prayer. It was commonly Spencer who remembered small details and remembered paltry quotations, but this time, it was you. Sitting in the glow of the afternoon sun, one October, he had been reading War and Peace, and couldn’t help but share the line with you as you sat across from him, chewing through a much smaller number of pages and reading a collection of poetry. The woman he had been so captivated by, admiring from afar that day - and all others, felt the same way he did. In disbelief, he began breathing manually. Making sure he was deciphering the cursive lettering correctly, he scanned the page again. While his eyes were definitely not deceiving him, they remained glued to one word. Awake. The havoc caused in his heart by the train of thought hitting him so brutally, rivalled only Gare Montparnasse. You must’ve heard his confession nights ago. It was the only explanation for the ‘I love you, too’. You most definitely were awake. Profiling tendencies overcame him. With his basic background of graphology, he could make out that the last line had been written in fresher ink than all the others, confirming his hypothesis. For the first time in a while, his mind was quiet, the uncertainties which fought to float in, unable to make their way through as if the thee simple words you’d handed him were a barrier for them. He needed to talk to you.

Walking quickly towards the elevator, an overwhelming wave of anxiety crashed over you. You had subconsciously been avoiding Spencer for most of the evening, second-guessing whether or not you’d heard him correctly, whether he’d even meant the words in the way you’d interpreted, wondering what you would do if this friendship were to ever end. However, a more hopeful side of you contended to quiet those thoughts. He had to feel it too. There was no room in which you hadn’t shared a longing look. The feather touches, and dancing. So badly did you want to believe that he thought this too. A slender arm appeared through the closing elevator doors, tugging you back to reality, causing you to jump before quickly pushing the open button. “Spencer! You could’ve lost an arm!” You yelped. “It’s okay, I have two of them,” he huffed. He avoided your eyes for a moment, before inhaling half of the oxygen in the small lift and turning towards you. “I wanted to say thank you, for this,” he held up the book, “it’s gorgeous, and sort of… exactly what I needed - and not just the book itself but what you wrote… inside it,” he nervously looked at you. “Did you- do you mean what you wrote?” His tone of voice syringed into you a drop of hurt. “Spencer, I never want you to think that I don’t mean it,” your let out in a shaky voice, gently grasping his elbow. You visibly saw his body ease, a smitten smile replacing the lip being chewed at. His throat bobbed as he gulped before he spoke again, heartbeat in his ears. “I want you to know that I’m in love with you, Y/N. I don’t want you the way I want a best friend, I want you in a-” he sighed, clenching and unclenching his fist trying to find the words, “I want you in a way that means I want to fall asleep beside you, and wake up to you the next morning, for as long as the sun rises. I want you. I want you - no, need you, the way the tide needs the moon to rise and fall, I want you-” he swallowed, furrowing his brows at his feet, “I want you, like this.” Hazel eyes fluttering shut was the last thing you saw. Large hands lightly caressed your face, one travelling behind your ear, brushing your neck to delicately tangle in your hair. After years of wondering, you finally knew what his lips felt like on yours. His nose bumped yours lightly as you tasted his soft lips, their slight chap reminding you that winter had kissed them first. Your hands wrapped around his wrists, before one settled on his tilted jaw and another hid in his chestnut hair. He felt warm, everywhere you touched setting electricity through him. Even after you pulled apart, his arms remained on either side of your face, holding you like you were fragile. His breath fanned over your face, as you shivered, the fluttering in your stomach unsubdued. The elevator had long reached the ground floor, causing the two of you to bashfully laugh concurrently. You thought to yourself that Spencer’s crimson flush and wide grin was a sight you would lose sleep to gaze at. “All this time, I’ve been missing out on that,” you teased, watching him shyly bite his lip as he waited for you to say something else. “I’m very glad you said all of that because I’m very much in love with you, Spencer Reid, and, if you’ll let me, I want to love you, the way people love in all the books you’ve lent me,” you told him. At that, he was sure his heart was yours, fearlessly. So, making afternoon plans and debating which train to take, neither of you really caring as long as you were in the other’s company, you finally stepped out of the elevator, oblivious to the mistletoe that was hanging within it, but more than mindful of what was to come.

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wicked-mind · 4 years ago

Text

Soulmates: Chapter Six

Summary: Soulmates are connected on a deeper level emotionally and physically. They can feel what the other needs and wants. As hints, the universe grants tattoos on your skin to help you find your soulmate when you’re about to meet them. When Bucky’s soulmate tattoo appears out of the blue, he knows that she is about to come into his life, but the way she does is not what he was expecting.

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Swearing, as usual. Drinking. Nightmares mention violence.

Note: Figured we needed a slightly fluffy chapter before we meet Gemini (;

Bold for Natasha. Italic and Underline for Y/N.

All Writings Masterlist

*gifs not mine

Previously

After Y/N and Bucky finished their shower together and got dressed, they walked out into the kitchen where Sam and Natasha were sitting. Sam had a scowl on his face towards Bucky, “Man, my room is right next to yours. And the shower echoes.” He hissed out.

Y/N laughs a little and rolls her eyes before Bucky could speak, “Hey, I was ready to go in the med-bay. At least we made it to the shower so everybody didn’t get a show.” She snapped back with a smile as Natasha started dying in laughter.

Bucky couldn’t help but chuckle, sneaking his arm around Y/N’s waist and pulling her closer as he kissed her temple softly. Now, Y/N was his and he wasn’t going to let her go. Their bodies were like one, each other could feel everything the other felt physically and mentally. Bucky got what he always wanted, a deeper connection with someone and nobody was more perfect for him than Y/N. For once he found himself thanking the world and all the things it had done to him just to lead him to Y/N.

Chapter six -

It had been weeks since Y/N had finally given into her soulmate bond with Bucky. There had been no new information on Gemini so they had just been enjoying their time together. They were inseparable. Bucky seemed to constantly be orbiting Y/N like he was her sun, which in a way she was. They would train together, eat together, even moved into one of the apartment suites instead of just Bucky’s bedroom due to Sam complaining about how noisy they were. Anytime Bucky wasn’t around her and he found her, he would push her up against a wall or a counter and kiss her like he hadn’t seen her in years.

Y/N released a part of Bucky that nobody had seen before, not even Steve. Sure, he had known Bucky to be a ladies man in the forties as well as a confident, cocky flirt. But it was like a switch had flipped in Bucky due to having Y/N as a soulmate. He was more social to the other team members, came around more which Steve appreciated. Though, there were other things that had Steve concerned. Y/N had brought out a wild side in Bucky. She had him wrapped around her finger and that concerned Steve. Natasha had spent so much time telling him that Y/N was not to be trusted, but that was before the two had made up and it still made Steve feel uneasy. The last thing he wanted to happen was for Bucky to somehow end up hurt or change who he was to match Y/N. He felt the need to talk to Y/N, try to figure out what was her plans. He hadn’t talked to her very much as she was always either sleeping during the day or keeping Bucky all to herself.

Steve managed to find her one night alone by some miracle. Bucky was usually always following her around so Steve would take this opportunity to talk to Y/N and feel out her intentions. She was sitting outside in a chair at one of the patio tables, her legs resting on the tabletop. Steve took a seat in the chair next to her, folding his arms across his chest.

Y/N looked over towards him, raising an eyebrow at his posture, “Can I help you?” She asks him. There was no rudeness in her voice but there also wasn’t anything positive hidden in her tone.

Steve sighs a little, “We haven’t really met or talked yet. I’m Steve Rogers.” He said told her, watching her carefully. He could see all the things Natasha had told him- Y/N did seem like she lacked emotions at times but it also seemed like she was constantly challenging those around her with the way she talked and looked at others.

“Oh I know, I’ve heard all about you. Mr. Captain America. Mr. Stars and Stripes. And also Bucky’s best friend.” Y/N said, her lips twitching into a small smile towards him, “So, what can I do for you, Cap?”

“I wanted to know more about you, Y/N.” Steve said honestly, “Nat said some things before you two made up. Bucky is my best friend and I want to know your intentions with him.”

Y/N swung her legs off the table and sat up straight in her chair, tapping her fingers against the arms of the chair gently, “Hasn’t anybody ever told you that a bitter woman can be a real bitch?” She asks with a tilt of her head, “I don’t have any intentions. We are enjoying each other.”

Steve nodded slowly at her words, watching her closely to try and tell if there was any hint of lying in her voice but he couldn’t detect any. Either she was a really good liar or she was telling him the truth, “Bucky’s waited his whole life for his soulmate. He’s gone through more trauma than anybody I know. If you’re planning on hurting him in anyway or just using him for fun or a means to an end with your brother, you should reconsider what you’re doing. You can destroy him, Y/N.”

Y/N rolled her shoulders at his words, her nose twitching slightly in anger, “You want to know a secret, Mr. Stars and Stripes?” She asks, watching as he nodded before continuing, “I’ve met him before. In 2014. I got a gold care to take out Alexander Pierce. I was outside of his house one night all set up ready to snipe him through the window. I watched him shoot his maid. And Bucky was there, sitting at the table. He looked right at me down the scope of my gun and the way he stared was like there were no emotions in his body. He came after me immediately, got really close to getting me too, but I was able to slip away. I was disguised with a mask so nobody could figure out who I was afterwards. I laid low for years, running in fear that the Winter Soldier was going to come after me and also because my buyers were pissed I wasn’t able to deal with Pierce.”

Steve furrowed his brow at her words, confused, “If you were that close to him, why didn’t either of you get your soulmate tattoos until recently?” He asks.

“Because he wasn’t Bucky Barnes. He was the Winter Soldier.” Y/N replied, licking her lips before continuing, “You see, Steve, I could be set on revenge for having to be on the run for a few years because of him. And I am really good at revenge. I know I could ruin him, destroy him as you say. But that is not what I want to do. He is himself again, no longer the man that looked at me with cold, dead eyes. I like him this way and he is my soulmate. If I had any ill will or intentions, he would sense it in an instant.” She stood up, looking down at Steve as he stayed seated, “But if you ever question my intentions with my soulmate again, you and I are going to have a big problem and I have a feeling that’d piss Bucky off more than anything I could do to him.”

As if on queue, Bucky came out of the sliding door to look between Y/N and Steve who seemed to be staring each other down. His brow pulled together in confusion and concern, walking over and placing a hand on Y/N’s waist, “What’s going on? Everything okay?” He asks, looking to Y/N then to Steve. He could feel the anger Y/N felt at this moment directed at Steve and wanted to know why she would be feeling that anger.

Y/N kept her eyes on Steve, “Don’t worry about it, Bucky. We were just having a chat. Just remember what I said about a bitter woman, Steve.” She said before tearing her eyes away from Steve’s and heading back inside to go up to their apartment suite.

Bucky frowned watching her go before looking to Steve, “What happened? Why’s she so mad?” He asks as he sits in the chair Y/N did before.

Steve sighs, running his hand through his blonde hair, “I wanted to figure out more about her. What Natasha said about her concerned me. I’m worried of her intentions with you, Buck.” He said honestly. He never lied to Bucky or kept anything from him. They were best friends after all.

Bucky shook his head at Steve, “I trust her, Steve. I can feel everything she does and I know I can trust her.” He said before letting out a sigh, “You don’t have to trust Y/N. But I do and I know you trust me.”

“Did she tell you that she has met you before?” Steve asks curiously, wondering how much Y/N had told Bucky.

Bucky looked at Steve confused, “That’s impossible. I would’ve remembered her and my tattoo didn’t show up until a few days before I met her.”

Steve looked at Bucky, leaning forward and placing his elbows on his lap, “She says it’s because you weren’t you. It was in 2014, she wore a mask so nobody could identify her. She had a kill order for Pierce.”

Bucky sat back in his chair, processing the information silently. He had managed to piece things together things he had done as the Winter Soldier and he could remember the night he went to Pierce’s house. He had asked if he wanted any milk and it confused him at the time because he was made for orders, not questions. He remembered feeling someone watching him and then he saw the glimmer of a scope rested in the trees. He immediately went into action, chasing the unknown masked person down under Pierce’s orders to kill them but the mystery person had managed to slip away. Bucky gripped the arms of the chair tightly, flinching at the thought of what could’ve happened if she hadn’t been able to get away from him. He would’ve killed her without a second thought and he would’ve never found his soulmate. Silently, Bucky stood up and walked back into the facility. He made his way to the elevator and clicked the top floor where the apartment suites were. When Bucky made it back to their shared room, he found Y/N leaning against the counter of the kitchen, drinking a bottle of beer. He walks over to her immediately, taking the glass out of her hand and placing it on the counter behind her before trapping her, placing his hands on the edge of the counter on either side of her, “Why didn’t you tell me you knew me?” He asks, harsher than he intended for it to sound.

Y/N tilts her head at his question, staring into his eyes. She licks her top lip slowly, his breath hitting her face made her shiver, “Because you weren’t you, Bucky. You were the Winter Soldier. And even though my tattoo has all the markings of your past as the Winter Soldier, he isn’t my soulmate. You are.”

Bucky’s eyes flickered over her face at her words, feeling as though his heart slightly dropped at her words. She didn’t hold anything against him from when he was sent to kill her because it wasn’t him. It made him feel relief, as if the universe was telling him that he wasn’t the Winter Soldier anymore. Bucky leans his forehead onto her shoulder, moving his hands to her hips, “Thank you… for not holding it against me.”

Y/N brought one hand up to run through Bucky’s hair, a small smile coming onto her lips, “Like I said, he wasn’t you. Plus I managed to evade the Winter Soldier which I’m pretty proud of.” She says softly to him, “Now take me to bed, Bucky.”

Bucky didn’t need to be asked twice, he picked her up by her waist until her legs wrapped around his and carried her into their shared bedroom, laying her on the bed as he trailed kisses and his hands all over her body.

A scream awoke Y/N from her sleep. She looked around her room slowly, slipping out of her bed. She gripped onto her purple stuffed bunny, walking out of her room and tip-toeing to her parent’s room. She dropped her stuffed animal at the sight, running over and nudging her mother’s arm as if trying to wake her up but it was too late. Then she heard the screams that she knew was her little brother followed by her older sister. Y/N scrambled under the bed, pressing her hand to her mouth as to not make a sound. Tears rolled down her cheeks slowly as she heard whistling and footsteps approach her deceased parent’s room. Her eyes widened as she saw the door open, watching the black shoes cross the floor and around the bed behind her. Then she screamed as she felt hands wrapped around her ankles, pulling her out from under the bed.

“Hello, sister.” His smile was made of pure evil even for only being thirteen years old.

Y/N gazed up to him in complete fear before kicking his knee and scrambling to her feet, running for the stairs to get outside and away from her twin brother. He caught up to quickly though, tripping her down the stairs and watching her land below on her back with a groan. She opened her eyes to look up at him, “Please…”

Her brother smirked down at her, bending his kneels to squat next to her. He pulled out the hunting knife that had been stashed in a sheath connected to his belt, pointing it at her, “It’s nothing personal. It’s just when a family decides you’re nothing to them… Well there’s no point in a family.” He said with a shrug and a smirk before stabbing the knife into Y/N’s stomach making her scream, “Nothing personal though. You’ve always been my favorite but I’m just the twin nobody wanted.” He pulled out the knife, admiring the blood on it for a moment before walking out the front door, leaving it open.

Y/N watched her twin go and when he was out of sight, she pressed her hands to the stab wound on her hip with as much strength as she could manage. Her eyes focused on the window that showed the night sky.

“I’ll see you soon, sis.”

“Wake up, sweetheart, c’mon… Wake up!” Bucky said, laying next to Y/N. He had seen her nightmare in his own dreams and could feel an emotion he hadn’t felt from her before. It was the slightest ounce of fear. He sat up, placing his hands on both of her shoulders and pulling her up against his chest.

Y/N awoke at the movement of her body being pulled to sit against Bucky’s bare chest, looking at him for a moment, “I’m fine, I’m alright.” She said, pulling herself out of the bed and out of his arms. She ran a hand through her hair before pulling on one of Bucky’s t-shirts over her naked body, “I just need some water.” Y/N said looking over to him as he still sat in the bed with the blankets covering his lap. She turned and left the bedroom, walking to the kitchen and grabbing out a glass before filling it with some water and walking out onto the balcony to allow the fresh air and small breeze to calm her down.

Bucky watched her leave the room before letting out a deep breath. He had felt fear from her caused by the nightmare. He had never felt an ounce of fear in her before and it worried him that it seemed like she was closing off from him again because of it. He pulled the blankets off his body and stood up, pulling some new boxers onto his body. He walked out of the bedroom and to the balcony, placing a hand gently on her back, “Please don’t shut me out, Y/N.” He said gently.

Y/N looked over to Bucky, “I’m sorry. Force of habit.” She said and offered a small apologetic smile before leaning her elbows on the bars of the balcony and fixating on the view in front of her. The sun was threatening to peak into the sky, “Did you see it?”

“I did…” Bucky said softly, watching her face intently as he kept his hand on her back, stroking small circles with his finger tips, “I felt your fear. What scared you?”

Y/N let out a deep breath before bringing the glass of water to her lips and taking a small sip of it, “You saw what happened. It was exactly like that night. Except he never said that he’ll see me soon.” She looks over to stare into his eyes, “That was him. Now him. Telling me he’s coming for me.”

Bucky’s brow pulled together at her words. Must’ve been some sort of weird twin telepathy thing for Gemini to be able to get in her head like that, “You’re safe, doll. I won’t let anything happen to you. Your evil twin isn’t going to take you away from me, I just got you.” He said with a small smile, moving his hand on her back lower to her waist. He stepped up behind her, pressing his body against her’s and kissing down the side of her neck until he reached the hem of the shirt, “Now why don’t you go back to bed? I know you hate the sunrise and we didn’t get much sleep.” He said, grinning crookedly, “After I’m done training with Steve, I’ll come find you, alright?”

Y/N smiles at his touch, biting her lip softly and nodding, “Bed sounds nice.” She said, twisting herself in his grasp to face him and tilts her head, “One day maybe we will get on the same sleep schedules.” She chuckles out before placing her palm on his cheek and giving him a kiss then walking past him back to the bedroom. Y/N was still very much a night owl, sleeping late into the afternoon. Luckily, Bucky had figured out she hated the morning due to the fact that after her twin stabbed her, she had to watch the sunrise through the windows while she waited to be found and made sure to shut all the curtains so she didn’t get disturbed.

Y/N woke up sooner than she usually did but still in the afternoon. She showered and got dressed in some jean shorts with a black tank top and one of Bucky’s dark blue flannels. By the time she was done getting ready it was about four in the afternoon. She figured Bucky was off staying occupied while letting her sleep which she appreciated. A soft knock at the door interrupted her. She opened the door to the apartment suite to find Natasha standing there, “What’s up, Nat?”

Natasha smiled, “Bucky may have mentioned you had a rough time.” She said before holding up two bottles of alcohol, “Figured I’d come cheer you up.”

Y/N smiles and opens the door to let her in, “I feel like he knows me so well - sending my person up with alcohol. What do we have?” She asks, following Natasha to sit on the couch.

“We have vodka for me and tequila for you.” Natasha said, sitting next to Y/N and passing her the bottle of tequila, “I figured it was more of a tequila moment than a whiskey moment.”

“I may have a soulmate but you know me better than anyone.” Y/N said, looking at the bottle, “What did he say?”

Natasha sits back in the couch, looking at Y/N, “He said you had the nightmare about your brother. I didn’t know you still had those.”

Y/N looks over at Natasha while twisting the cap off of the tequila, “I don’t.” She told her, “This one was different. It’s like he was using evil twin telepathy or something. He told me he would see me soon.”

“Creepy.” Natasha replied, standing up and going to the kitchen to grab two glasses before returning to sit on the couch and filling up one glass with a shot of vodka, “You should be safe here. We deciphered the gold card you got from Blake, he was hired by Gemini which we already knew but it didn’t have any other information on where to find him.”

Y/N rolls her eyes in annoyance, “Of course it didn’t.” She muttered out, pouring some of the tequila into the glass, “He could be anywhere, waiting for his opportunity. I can’t just sit here locked in the tower like a damsel in distress.”

Natasha nods slowly, “I know. You’ve never been one to just hide, you’ve always faced your problems.” She said, then holds her glass up, “But right now, tonight, we are going to forget about all your problems with your evil twin and talk about other things.”

Y/N raised an eyebrow, picking up her glass of tequila and clinking glasses with Natasha before taking a sip, “I see why you brought the tequila now.” She chuckles. Y/N may love whiskey, but tequila was her go to when she wanted to let go and feel happy.

After a few drinks, Y/N and Natasha were sitting on either side of the coffee table on the floor staring intently at each other, having some sort of competition about things that had happened in their lives.

“My soulmate went to space.”

Shot.

“My soulmate was sent to kill me.”

Shot.

“Your soulmate shot me and almost killed me.”

Shot.

“I have an evil twin that is set on kidnapping me after he attempted to murder me.”

Shot.

“I haven’t had sex in years.”

Shot.

“…. Yeah, okay, you win."

Just when Y/N opened her mouth to continue, they were interrupted by Bucky walking inside with eyes flickering between the two before landing on the bottle of tequila, “Oh no, not the tequila.” He groaned out. Y/N with whiskey was fine but Y/N with tequila was a whole different challenge all together.

Nat shrugs and stood up, “That’s my cue to leave.” She said, snatching the bottle of vodka and leaving the apartment suite promptly but not before saying over her shoulder, “Have fun with the tequila monster!”

Y/N looks up at Bucky and raises an eyebrow, “Tequila monster?” She questions, picking up the tequila and pouring herself another shot.

Bucky walks over and tries to grab the glass but Y/N held it away, “You get a little crazy with tequila.” He said, “And a third of the bottle is gone which means you’re going to be extra crazy.”

Y/N quickly drinks the shot of tequila and passed him the empty glass before standing up and grabbing the bottle of tequila by the neck of the bottle and running into the kitchen on the opposite side of the counter with a mischievous grin on her lips. She brings the open bottle of tequila up to her lips, watching Bucky who stood in the living room teasingly.

Bucky chuckles and shakes his head at her, “Don’t do it, doll.” He said, starting a slow pace towards her. Y/N loved to test Bucky when she drank tequila which is part of the reason the term ‘tequila monster’ came to light. When he saw her press the bottle to her lips and take a few swallows he quickened his pace over to her, “Oh, you’re in so much trouble now, sweetheart.”

Y/N watched him approach, moving around the opposite side of the kitchen island while teasingly taking a few small sips between laughs. Bucky was giving her that dark eyed look and she was thriving off of it.

Bucky caught her eventually, taking the bottle from her hands and placing it on the counter while his arm secured her to his body. He backed her up until her back hit the fridge, staring down at her with a cocky grin, “You are trouble.”

Y/N smiles up at him, jumping up into his arms with her legs wrapped around his waist, “I know. I’m the best kind of trouble though.” She purred out to him, her fingers stroking through his hair slowly.

Bucky kept that grin on his face, his hands immediately going to hold her up by her thighs when she jumped up onto him. Everything about her drove him wild. He never expected he would have to chase his drunk soulmate around their shared kitchen or that she would bring out a wild side in him, yet here he was with the most beautiful woman he had ever seen in his arms with her back against the fridge, “You’re the perfect kind of trouble, sweetheart.” He purred out to her before connecting his lips with her’s. He forced his tongue between her lips, groaning as it danced with hers. Bucky takes a step forward, pinning her body against the fridge more roughly so he could feel all of her body against his. He pulls away reluctantly when he heard her whimper, pressing his forehead to her’s, “I love you, Y/N.”

_____________________________________________________________

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Taglist: @vibraniumqueen @thatoneperson5000 @dude-whatawave @buckypops @tanyaherondale @robunny127

If I missed anybody on the taglist or you would like to be added, please let me know (: Thank you for the support!

#bucky barnes #bucky x you #bucky x reader #bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes series

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crispychrissy · 4 years ago

Text

Connected - Part 4

Summary: Dr. Austin's theory is put to the test, and she shows Tony, Bucky, and Steve the woman behind the mystery. Pairing: Eventual Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2976 Warnings: Angst, medical stuff, stretching the medical science behind the super soldier serum, discussion of Bucky's previous trauma & a mention of the horrible things the Nazi's did A/N: I apologize for the late posting, I fell asleep so hard last night I didn't have a chance to queue this, and then I was out all day (good 14 hours out and about) so I am just now able to post the new chapter since I'm home now. As I mentioned in a prior post, I no longer have a forever taglist, but I will still tag series specific people if they request. You can also follow this story & others on my Ao3 as well. The series was beta’d by the lovely @idjitmonkey and I hope you enjoy! Please send me an ask if you would like to be tagged in the series. :)

Series Masterlist – Marvel Masterlist

☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆.。.:*・°☆

Bucky made a quick call to Shuri who, after a thorough interrogation as to why he was asking, assured him his arm would not be affected by the magnets of an MRI machine. So now, Bucky was laying down on his back inside the machine and staring at the small glass covered camera embedded in the inside curve of the plastic above him.

“Stop staring at the camera, Barnes, you’re giving off some crazy resting murder face right now,” Tony’s staticky voice came through the pair of disposable earbuds he was wearing to protect his hearing from the noise of the scan. “Might sell these scans to Ripley’s Believe It or Not. You actually do have something going on in that head of yours.”

“As much as I know you want to answer, Sergeant Barnes, please do not speak or move,” Dr. Austin’s voice came through after what sounded like a small scuffle for the microphone.

Bucky blinked several times in an unnatural yet controlled fashion, and when he heard Steve’s laughter coming through the earbuds, he had to fight the urge to smile, knowing Steve got the message he blinked out in Morse code.

F-U-C-K Y-O-U T-O-N-Y

The scan was over almost a half an hour later, and Bucky couldn’t hide his exhale of relief once the table began to slide out of the massive scanner. Confined spaces still made his skin crawl and flash back to the cryo tube he was kept in, but the MRI was surprisingly open in design and not like the ones he usually remembered seeing in hospitals. When he brought it up to Dr. Austin on their way back to her office, she smiled at him and explained most of the soldiers they treat have PTSD and claustrophobia, so an open MRI design was necessary for the comfort of the patients she treats.

It made sense, and when they entered her office and Bucky’s stomach growled for the fourth time in the last fifteen minutes, she tossed him the orange he’d been eyeing earlier before taking a seat at her desk and flipping open her laptop.

“Normally we have to wait for the images to be reviewed by a radiologist, but I’m well versed in how to read brain scans,” Dr. Austin explained, clicking a few times before leaning forward to study the screen. “Oh, wow.”

“What?” Bucky asked, using his teeth to bite a chunk of the orange’s peel off since his right hand didn't have nails long enough, and his left didn’t have nails at all. Once he could see the flesh of the orange underneath, he slid his flesh finger under the remaining peel and began to remove it in large pieces, trying to avoid getting sticky juice on his metal hand.

Dr. Austin spun her laptop around to show Bucky the image on her screen. It was a scan of his head, he could tell that, but the mess of swirling bright colors on the inside where his brain was made his eyes hurt. There were bright greens and blues swirled with more vibrant reds and pinks dancing around inside the image. “This is your brain.”

“Looks more like those posters… the ‘this is your brain on drugs’ pictures if they were made in the sixties, Doc,” Tony said. “I’m guessing it’s not supposed to look like that?”

“No. There’s so much brain activity that it’s likely what’s been burning through your energy and why you’ve been hungry all the time,” Dr. Austin explained. “Any type of brain activity, including emotions and problem solving, requires energy, whether it’s planning a complex strategy of attack for a mission or a simple math problem or crying at a sad part in a movie. Overworking the mind usually leads to tiredness, which leads to sleep, naturally refreshing those energy reserves. Most humans don’t expend enough energy, even when the brain is very active, to require major replenishment. Take Mr. Stark for example.”

Tony looked up and raised his eyebrows. “Me?”

“Yes, you’re a very intelligent man, and I’m guessing that when you’re elbow deep in your inventions or developing something, you don’t sleep and will go days without rest… so you find you get somewhat hungry at random times, right?” Dr. Austin asked.

“Well, yeah, I usually keep snacks around the lab that I nibble on so I don’t have to leave to make an actual meal. It ruins the momentum,” Tony said, confusion in his voice. “Pep’s found me passed out over the kitchen counter halfway through making a sandwich.

“Your body shut down and went to sleep before you were even able to replenish that energy via food since sleep is more efficient. So, that is a normal human mind.” Tony opened his mouth to protest, when Dr. Austin rolled her eyes and switched analogies. “Fine, that’s a standard engine, if you will, that can easily be refueled by a small energy source for a limited amount of time before it needs to be shut down and rebooted,” Dr. Austin said, slowly twirling her right pointer finger in a circle.

“Alright, I’m following you so far.” Tony’s head was slightly moving along with the circular rotation of her finger.

“Now, in the case of our super soldiers here, imagine that engine, but amplified almost five hundred percent,” Dr. Austin began to rotate her finger faster and faster until it was a blur of movement. “The need for sleep is suppressed by the serum, since alertness is crucial in combat, so that reboot requirement is easier to put off. In order to keep this kind of engine going at the same speed and level of activity for prolonged periods, it would burn through a small snack, or a small source of energy, too quickly and would signal the driver of the car, if you will, that it needed more.”

“So you’re saying that something is making Bucky’s brain so active, and he’s burning through so much energy, that it’s manifesting as hunger to make sure he keeps up with what’s being expended?” Steve asked, his mouth slightly open in shock. “I mean, I always remember being hungry after mission strategy and planning meetings, but I just assumed it was because I was bored or had skipped a meal.”

Dr. Austin shook her head. “Nope. You were using your brain in overdrive, doing quick calculations and mission scenarios in your head to find the best possible plan of action, much faster than any normal human brain would be able to calculate. It makes you an excellent strategist, but that kind of brain power burns a lot of energy.”

Bucky snorted in disbelief and leaned forward in the chair, resting his elbows on his knees. “It makes sense. I was a good sniper when I was first in the Army during the war, but after Zola… after he injected me with that bastardized version of the serum… I could calculate trajectory angles and wind velocities and distances in my head in seconds, didn’t have to write them out to do the calculations. Didn’t even need a spotter anymore.”

Dr. Austin nodded. “Exactly. The serum allowed you extra mental acuity at the expense of more energy consumption.”

“But that doesn’t explain why Bucky’s brain is lit up like a psychedelic Christmas tree,” Tony said, gesturing to the laptop image. “Barnes obviously isn’t doing any kind of advanced calculus in his head right now.” Tony looked at Bucky. “You’re not right?” Bucky shook his head and Tony continued, “so why is his brain so active?”

“And that leads me to my theory about Y/N,” Dr. Austin said, standing up from her chair. “Follow me, gentlemen. And Sergeant Barnes,” he looked over and raised a brow as he trailed after her into the hallway, “please let me know if you feel any increased feelings of hunger or exhaustion. The effects might come on quickly, so please let me know if, or when, you feel anything.”

Bucky nodded, and looked over to where Steve was walking to his right. Thanks to their childhood friendship, Steve could always see anxiety and nervousness in Bucky even when he tried to hide it, like when he saw Bucky off the morning he shipped off to Europe. Bucky kept his face stoic, but when Steve hugged him goodbye, Bucky was practically trembling under the Army-hardened mask he had worn then.

Steve reached over and clasped a comforting hand on Bucky’s shoulder, giving him a squeeze of reassurance.

The doctor led them down several hallways, until they reached another wing of the military hospital which held secure patient rooms that could be locked down if necessary, whether due to outbursts of violence due to psychological issues from recovering soldiers or to hold prisoners who had been injured and needed medical intervention. Dr. Austin stopped in front of a room at the end of the hallway and gestured to the one-way mirror in front of her.

“Gentlemen, meet Y/N Y/L/N.”

The three men stepped closer and looked into the room, all eyes frozen on the figure sitting upright in the hospital bed. Y/N had shoved herself in the farthest possible corner of the bed, her knees tucked under her chin and arms wrapped around her legs. The photo in her file, and even the video of her they’d seen looked nothing like the woman before them. She looked almost emaciated, her skin a sickly pale that was almost translucent, and her stringy grease matted hair twitched slightly as her body trembled.

“Jesus,” Steve breathed. “She… she looks like those prisoners… the ones—”

Bucky swallowed and nodded. “From Natzweiler, yeah, I remember.” Bucky took a deep breath, fighting against the telltale tingle in his mind of a long since forgotten memory beginning to rise up like a wave. “Doc… is she eating?”

“She was when she first got here, but only if the food was left for her after she passed out from exhaustion,” Dr. Austin explained. “Now, ever since things have escalated, she rips out her IV’s, pulls out NG tubes, and refuses any food we bring her. I’m not going to sedate her just because it’ll make it easier to feed her, we haven’t reached that level of intervention yet, but we’re getting close. She told one of our staff yesterday, in Russian, that she was not going to eat any of our poisoned food, that she wasn’t some kind of lab experiment and that we were animals for not just shooting her in the head to get it over with.”

All of the air in Bucky’s lungs came out in one hard breath like he’d been punched in the chest, and he had to brace himself against the windowsill to keep his knees from buckling. “Fuck.”

“Bucky?” Steve gasped at Bucky’s sudden weakness, grabbing onto his friend’s arm and placing a gentle hand on his back. ”What? Are you feeling the stuff Dr. Austin mentioned?”

Bucky grit his teeth and closed his eyes at the onslaught of memory fragments bombarding him. “No, I’m… I don’t know, maybe? I just… she’s…” Bucky’s thoughts were so jumbled he could barely form a coherent sentence, even in his head. He made a choked off noise that sounded more like a sob before he lifted his head to look at Y/N. “She’s reliving my captivity with Hydra. This… this was after I was transferred from the facility the Russians held me in after they found me to the one where Zola did his experiments. They were, umm, they were testing the limits of the serum, trying to figure out what I could survive.”

Steve’s face dropped and he took a sharp breath in. Bucky’s captivity and torture was not something he talked about often outside his therapy sessions. Steve only knew a handful of stories, ones that had come directly from Bucky’s mouth, and even then they were very hard stories for him to tell—lots of starting and stopping, frequent breaks, and plenty of tears. But here, with two extra people with him, and one being a stranger?

“Buck, you don’t have to talk about it,” Steve whispered.

“No, I need… she said exactly what I said to the guards who brought me food one day.” Bucky swallowed hard, flexing his fingers against the painted metal of the windowsill, the cold against his flesh hand grounding him. “They were testing different poisons and how the serum would fight it off… arsenic, ricin, even different kinds of snake and spider venom. I had seizures, strokes, and my heart stopped so many times I lost count.”

“Fucking hell,” Tony murmured, leaning against the wall behind them, his face a few shades paler than it was ten minutes ago. “Y/N is reliving your memories, reliving your life.”

“We need to find a way to pull her out of this,” Bucky said, straightening up with determination even though his bones felt like liquid and his mind was full of numbing static. If Y/N was reliving his life, even if it didn’t seem like the moments were in order, he knew it was only a matter of time until she would experience how the Winter Soldier was born, how he was forged, and he wouldn’t wish that on anyone.

Dr. Austin nodded and looked back at her patient through the glass. “If my theory is correct, which I believe it is based on your shared memories and brain scans, Y/N’s mind has somehow melded with yours. And your memories, powered by your mind’s energy, have somehow taken over hers, suppressing her personality completely. I don’t know if it was some kind of dormant mutant ability that was activated by the trauma of her captivity and torture, or something else… but there is obviously some kind of link between the two of you that we don’t have the technology to test for and verify. You’re essentially feeding her your memories, which is why your brain is lit up like that and why you’re expending so much energy.”

“It’s like she’s stuck inside one of Stark’s virtual reality headsets and can’t take it off, experiencing everything I went through while my brain keeps playing her different…” Bucky trailed off and his eyes widened before his head snapped to look at Y/N through the glass.

In a flash of movement, Bucky grabbed Dr. Austin’s ID badge from where it was clipped onto her white coat and darted for the door to Y/N’s room, scanning the badge so the door opened with a green light and soft click. Bucky, ignoring the shouts of his name and hands trying to grab at him to pull him back, opened the door and shut it firmly behind him, engaging the door’s auto-lock safety feature that he knows secure wings of hospitals have. The group outside would need to find another ID badge to get in, which would buy him some time.

Y/N’s wide and terrified eyes settled on him, and she tilted her head in an almost confused dog-like fashion, her eyes softening with an air of familiarity. Bucky could feel the hunger gnawing at his stomach turn into sharp cramps that almost made him double over, and there was a soft circle of darkness starting to creep in around his vision.

Bucky took three large steps forward, and even though she flinched away at his sudden movement, Y/N didn’t scramble away to try and avoid his hands as he lifted them. Her weary bloodshot eyes were full of unshed tears, and the closer Bucky’s hands got to her face, the more she began to tremble.

“You’re safe,” he whispered to her in Russian, before repeating the same sentiment in English.

The moment his fingers, both flesh and metal, touched the skin on either side of her face, it felt like he was on the wrong side of an attack from Thor’s hammer. Whatever weakness and hunger he’d been feeling was burned out of his body at the sheer shock cascading through his entire being. It didn’t hurt, but it was bordering on wildly uncomfortable, and Bucky was afraid he’d never be able to let go, his hands stuck to Y/N like a magnet.

There was something different passing between them, more than what touch alone could provide. Trying to understand everything that was happening was overwhelming, but when Bucky focused, he could almost feel Y/N inside his mind, like another whisper of a presence, a ghost in his consciousness. When he reached out in his head for her where he’d felt the ghost of her presence, he was assaulted with bursts of memories he knew were not his own, images of unfamiliar people, places, and things flashing in his mind like photographs. Bucky's curiosity was almost childlike, awestruck and trying to understand what his brain was comprehending, sorting through what Y/N was showing him.

The more information Bucky absorbed, the darker each memory became until it felt like he was wading through molasses, each image being harder and harder to move past. A hoarse whisper of “No” echoed in his mind, and Bucky couldn’t tell if it was his own voice or Y/N’s.

A solid arm wrapped around Bucky’s middle, one much more firm than human flesh would be, and pulled him backward until his hands dropped from Y/N’s face, breaking whatever connection had refused to release him when he’d touched her. Reality came rushing back, and the room and people around him flashed into existence, the change in environment and sound disorienting him and leaving him panting for breath, his knees wobbling.

“She…” Bucky looked over at Y/N, who was just as distressed, and watched her collapse onto the bed, unconscious, before his vision blacked out and darkness took him as well.

***

Connected Tags: @ginger-swag-rapunzel @that-one-gay-girl @fanofalltheficsx @joseyrw @lana-writes-04 @gia-25 @klanceiscannon14 @ahahafudge

#connected #part 4 #marvel series #marvel fanfic #mcu fanfic #mcu #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #reader insert #bucky barnes x y/n #angst #medical stuff

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sugas-sweetheart · 4 years ago

Note

Hey, congrats on 500 followers :)) For the event, could I get a Iida + Cafe AU. I think it would be rlly cute <3

A/N: Thank you!! Oooo I’ve never written for Iida so I apologise for anything that seems out of character! I did this as barista!reader x iida and I apologise for the abrupt ending I had trouble finishing this one >_<

Flash Sale M.list

Tenya wasn’t exactly sure when he had decided the dorms were too distracting for his third year studies.

Well, if he actually thought about it he’d know exactly when and why, but that was in the past for him now.

He had been leaving the dorms every other night for quite a few weeks now, promptly leaving his dorm at 4:40pm to arrive at the cafe he had deemed “study worthy” by 5pm.

The routine was odd to him at first, he had never thought he would use the 3rd year privilege of being able to leave the dorms whenever for studying.

He had been calmly studying in his dorm the past two and a half years so why now?

Finding somewhere to study was his first task all those weeks ago, and he came across a little cafe wedged between a book shop and a small fabric and sewing shop.

He saw you on his first visit there.

Coming to the front in a slight rush from, you tied the apron around you getting prepared to start your evening shift.

There was only one or two people in front of Iida in the queue, but it gave him enough time to asses what he was going to get, and to admire you for the first time.

He ordered with some confidence, still feeling slightly out of place alone and in a new location.

He definitely looked into your eyes for a little too long as he ordered.

With a smile, you told him you’d take his order to him once he was seated and that was only the first interaction.

It started off slow at first, he’d come in every few days to sit in the same corner table and pull out his notes and work.

Every time you’d both make small conversation as he ordered, sometimes slipping him a free snack because of how many drinks he’d buy over the week.

You found out he went to UA, he found out what you were studying in your own school and hoping to go onto, the cafe job was just for some extra money while you were studying.

You asked about his quirk and he’d tell you about it and said that if you ever wanted to ask him more you knew where he was sat.

From then you’d take your breaks to sit with him in the corner, taking your own drink and snack to join him while he studied.

He thought you were fascinating, was it the way everyone that visited the cafe seemed to love you? or the way you smiled at him when he came in? maybe it was just everything about you for him.

If he was honest, he didn’t always have work to do but would take his laptop and books with him anyway as a reason to see you.

As you got to know each other his infatuation grew deeper, and so did yours, how this smart UA student caught your attention so much in such short time confused you to no end sometimes.

It was your third years and if neither of you said anything about these feelings then you’d both move on and move away and never know what could have been.

Neither of you wanted to pass that opportunity up, but neither of you were the most forward people sometimes.

Opting to live the cliche you joked about when you first started working in a cafe, you chose to write your number on his cup today.

It took him a moment to realise that your number was in fact written on the side of his cup.

And he was very surprised and slightly flustered at the sight of your phone number with a small heart that you had drawn next to it. You could tell by his facial expressions that he had found the number and while you were scared of his reaction, it also made you laugh.

He saw you laughing and it made him more flustered, he wasn’t entirely sure how to react aside from the fact he knew and had processed over the previous weeks that he did in fact like you back. The smile on your face as you composed yourself to go attend to the next customer was so cute to him.

Once your break came round, you arrived with a free treat for him, and your own drink.

Iida had been practising how he was going to ask you out for awhile in his head, and once you had seated yourself across from him he couldn’t wait much longer to say it.

“Would you like to go out for Coffee? Not here of course, unless you’d feel more comfortable here-” “Yes I would, Iida” He was beginning to ramble and you had to say yes before he got too far into his slight nonsense.

With the next few moments sat in a slightly awkward silence, he processed your response. He had more or less figured out that the outcome wouldn't lead to rejection but there was always a possibility.

With a quick call from your co worker at a small influx of customers, you smiled at him and bid your goodbye for now before taking your drink away with you.

He might just have to visit the cafe a little more often from now on.

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xiaomoxu · 4 years ago

Text

LUCIEN - Taste Date

SPOILER ALERT!!

A date from CN server which hasn’t been released on EN server yet. Might contains some spoiler.

The projector in the living room flickered, and the music at the end of the movie was intertwined with the warm sunshine. In this space that belongs to me and Xu Mo, there is a warmth day after day.

I looked at the scrolling subtitles on the screen and yawned.

Xu Mo: Do you think the movie is boring?

Xu Mo turned his head and looked at me with a faint voice as always, but the smile in his eyes was a little bit more than usual.

MC: Nope. The movie is very interesting. I especially like narration, music and mirroring.

MC: It's the movie you picked.

As I said, I leaned against Xu Mo again, leaning my head on his shoulder.

MC: I just relax suddenly and feel like I'm lazy

MC: Obviously I did all kinds of imagination before the holiday, but when I could really rest, my brain went on strike, and I didn't even bother to think about the plan.

Xu Mo: However, if you don't plan well, this rest day will also slip away unknowingly.

MC: There is nothing wrong with this principle

MC: Then we will discuss how to spend a full and rich rest day tomorrow.

MC: But right now... just rest with nothing to do for one day, okay?

When I looked up at him, I was amused and blinked earnestly. Xu Mo seemed to squeeze my face helplessly.

Xu Mo: You...

Xu Mo: Do you want to watch another movie?

Before I had time to agree, Xu Mo's phone on the table rang untimely.

The caller is Aming.

Xu Mo pressed the hands-free button after answering the phone, got up and walked to the cabinet where the discs were stored.

Aming: Professor Xu, sorry to disturb you.

Xu Mo: what's happening?

Aming: Do you have any arrangements for today? The previous experiment has made some progress, I would like to trouble you to follow up.

Xu Mo paused when he picked the DVD.

Xu Mo: is it urgent?

Aming: It's not actually too late after the holidays.

Aming: However, there will be a few academic conferences and postgraduate papers that you need to check. Time will be a little tight.

Xu Mo: I know. Leave it until after the holidays.

Aming: Alright professor, take a good rest.

As the phone hung up, Xu Mo also chose the DVD. And I, who was listening silently beside him, suddenly had a thought.

MC: Xu Mo, I have a plan!

Xu Mo: Yes?

MC: Since it's a holiday now, there shouldn't be many people in the research right?

Xu Mo: Well, that's right.

MC: Then I will go to work with you!

As if shocked by my sudden suggestion, Xu Mo raised his eyebrows and said again to confirm.

Xu Mo: Go to work with me?

MC: Yes! This way you can spend the rest day with you without delaying your work.

MC: And it satisfies the condition of "fullness and richness" very well. Isn't it a great idea?

Xu Mo: I do not deny that this is a feasible method....

Xu Mo: But my work is probably not as interesting as you think

I shook my head vigorously.

MC: It is not an opportunity every day to see Professor Xu's work side up close.

MC: This holiday plan will definitely be the one I wanted to start a long time ago.

MC: "Professor Xu Mo's Ecological Observation" project adds an important record!

Although I have “sneaked in” here many times because I gave Xu Mo a lunch box or helped him take care of the plants in the office...

But walking into the office with him in this way and watching him sitting behind his desk up close is still a new experience.

MC: Xu Mo, you just treat me as if I'm not here, just do your usual work normally!

Seeing that I had quite taken out a notebook to record his daily momentum of work, Xu Mo gently tapped on my head.

Xu Mo: Well, now that producer MC is fully prepared, then I will cooperate well.

Xu Mo: But say it in advance, even if you feel boring, you can't run away.

MC: Pftー don't worry, I won't!

I hope our "cooperation" today will be turned well.

I held back a smile, sat pretentiously on the sofa in the corner of his office, and waved to him.

The so-called "Professor Xu Mo's Ecological Observation" project, only "observing Xu Mo" is my real purpose.

The person in front of me always seemed to be able to cooperate with my careful thoughts, and would not pierce easily.

For me, seeing Xu Mo's work in a rare way is already the most interesting thing for me.

Xu Mo sat behind his desk, his narrow eyes could not see emotions, only the light spots on his face swayed playfully with his breathing rate.

We didn't speak for a while, and typing sounds regularly echoed in the office where only the two of us were alone.

Xu Mo: Is it connected to the intranet?

Xu Mo didn't stop his hand movements and spoke naturally

MC: Yep, it's already connected.

MC: However, the network speed of the highest biotechnology institute is really fast

??: After all, we have a lot of data to process, and it will be troublesome if the network cannot keep up.

With a soft knock on the door, a familiar voice heard outside the door.

Researcher: Amin told me that the professor was not coming today, and he was probably going to accompany MC. I saw that the office light was on, and it was strange.

Researcher: Unexpectedly, you came together.

The other party was one of the researchers who followed Xu Mo as a researcher, and I had met Xu Mo several times before.

Xu Mo nodded lightly in response, and I also smiled politely at him.

MC: Do you have a job to talk about? Then I first

Researcher: No, no, I will go back to the lab now. Professor, you are busy, I won't bother you.

The researcher winked at us jokingly and waved away.

Xu Mo raised his eyes and looked at the direction the person was leaving, then smiled and said to me.

Xu Mo: It seems that when I didn't know, the researchers around me had a better relationship with you.

MC: Because everyone is very kind.

Xu Mo: A lot of things have been added to the office unknowingly.

Xu Mo smiled and pointed to the blanket on the sofa.

MC: Of course. My goal is to make it comfortable and easy to work with!

Xu Mo: Then I will wait and see.

In the next few hours, Xu Mo's typing sound never stopped.

Occasionally, a few researchers came in to submit materials, and because they were all familiar people, they directly handed me the documents that needed to be sorted out.

In this way, I also feel a little happy to be around Xu Mo and do something for him.

But....

Xu Mo: Ugh...

Hearing Xu Mo's sigh for many times today, I walked behind him and massaged his shoulders and neck.

You keep sighing, is your work today not going well?

Xu Mo: Is not. It's just that the efficiency is not as high as usual.

MC: Is it too tired?

MC: Xu Mo smiled and took my hand, leaned a little later, half leaning on me.

He took off his glasses and put them on the table. The eyes that looked at me were full of clarity, and there was no fatigue.

Xu Mo: If you are here, I will be distracted.

Xu Mo: Are you hungry, do you want to eat first?

The noon daylight gradually slanted, and the crisp keyboard tapping in my ears stopped.

Xu Mo stood up and moved his shoulder and neck slightly.

The work is more cumbersome than I thought, and it may take more time.

Xu Mo: Why not we have lunch together?

MC: It would be nice if Professor Xu Mo could eat as well as he did today in his usual work.

Xu Mo: With your strict supervision, I am getting healthier day by day.

Xu Mo got up and put on his coat, and naturally brought me a coat and hat.

Xu Mo: For the restaurants nearby.

Seeing Xu Mo's thinking, I interrupted him first.

MC: Today I am here to do "Professor Xu Mo's Ecological Observation", so just go to the place where you usually eat.

Xu Mo: But I usually.....

I can probably guess what he said subconsciously. I squinted at Xu Mo.

MC: Did you really eat well under my supervision?

Xu Mo: ....

Xu Mo: Compared to before, my life is indeed much healthier. Especially the love bento you sent, I ate them on time.

MC: Huh?

MC: What about when I didn't send it? Is it not on time?

I did not let Xu Mo go, but further "questioned" him.

Xu Mo: Overall.... it is on time.

Xu Mo turned his gaze away with a rare guilty conscience, and gave an ambiguous answer.

MC: Then take me to the place where you usually eat now.

MC: I have to supervise the cunning big fox Professor Xu!

Although I am always amused by him accidentally, I will never compromise in this kind of place.

Xu Mo: Alright, I get it.

Xu Mo: In the future, I will follow MC's requirements more strictly and try to ensure that I work and rest regularly.

Seeing that I couldn't help but Xu Mo could only sigh and surrender.

Xu Mo took me to a small restaurant near the research center.

Most of the diners who come and go in the store wear badges from the research center.

MC: It seems that this is still a popular meal of the research center.

Xu Mo and I stood at the end of the ordering queue, looking up at the short menu. The dishes were almost occupied by sandwiches, burgers and pizza.

MC: But the food does not seem to be too rich...

Xu Mo: Yes. After all, people usually think more about how to make eating time the most efficient than enjoying food.

Xu Mo: If you have not forgotten to eat, you will choose food that is portable and can be eaten as quickly as possible.

Xu Mo: So you can finish a meal while walking or working.

Xu Mo didn't look at the menu and ordered a sandwich when it was our turn.

It seems that he does come here often.

The clerk clearly placed the order and settled the bill. The smooth and streamlined movements are in line with efficiency aesthetics.

MC : I'm going the other way with you, and I will never give up any chance to enjoy food

MC: Occasionally, I ran for a cup of coffee during my lunch break.

MC: After all, eating is a very happy thing.

Xu Mo: Yes. Indeed it is.

MC: Xu Mo looked at me as if he missed and said with joy.

Xu Mo: I didn't think three meals a day were important or pleasant.

Xu Mo: But I found it now.

Xu Mo: This feeling is especially strong when you eat the rice cooked by this "Snail Girl".

Almost as soon as I was seated, the clerk had already delivered some nice sandwiches.

MC: Huh? Is this restaurant serving food so fast?

The sandwiches on the tray are very rich in content, some vegetables and meat, and it seems that there is an egg in it.

MC: Is this your usual lunch?

Xu Mo nodded and unpacked.

Xu Mo: The sandwiches in this shop are very popular in the research center.

MC: Is it because the nutrition is balanced and delicious?

Xu Mo: Would you like to taste it?

Xu Mo smiled and split off a corner of the sandwich and handed it to me.

While talking, other meals were also delivered over.

In such a comparison, I always feel that the sandwich in front of me looks very simple.

But as the saying goes, the food is not good.

MC: Well.... the nutrition seems to be very balanced.

I returned Xu Mo with a bright smile.

Xu Mo: Doesn't it taste good? It's better to say that it was just enough to swallow it just now.

MC: ....

MC: It must be that the ingredients used in the store are more particular, right? It can add rich nutrition.

Xu Mo: It's just ordinary ingredients.

Xu Mo: From a nutritional point of view, meat is somewhat insufficient, and the intake of carbohydrates and protein is definitely not enough.

I tried to maintain the smile on my face, somewhat worried whether the store would hear this straightforward conversation and swept us out.

Xu Mo: However, it has a unique advantage that it can become the favorite food in the hearts of researchers at the research center.

I opened my eyes slightly and listened carefully.

Xu Mo: High speed.

MC: What?

Xu Mo: The serving speed is very fast, if it is taken away, the speed is even faster.

MC: So that's all...

Xu Mo: Someone once did statistics...

Xu Mo: If you order this sandwich in this restaurant, you can save at least 13 minutes and 22 seconds even during peak dining periods.

As I listened to this so precise and unnecessary data, my brain gradually emptied.

Does the research scope of the research center cover this kind of place?!

Xu Mo: This statistical report covers all shops within a walking distance of 20 minutes, and the credibility is very high.

MC: That's it, everyone at the research center are so strictㅡ

Xu Mo was amused by my lack of emotional ups and downs, and he pushed my burger toward me.

Xu Mo: But the taste of other dishes should be normal and worth eating.

Sure enough, the beef Hamburg, which looked very tender and juicy, basically reached the standard of "delicious".

Compared with the tasteless sandwich just eaten, it can be called "delicious."

MC: So, do you usually eat this kind of food for lunch?

Xu Mo: Yes. This is considered to be one of the most optimal in all aspects

Xu Mo bit the sandwich in his hand and explained the facts calmly.

MC: Although time is important and this sentence is also very long-winded, I still think three meals a day are very important

MC: After serious work, it is worth rewarding yourself with delicious, nutritious and balanced food.

MC: Eating enough and sleeping well is not only a guarantee of life, but also a statement to myself: Today I am also living seriously.

Facing my serious "preaching" Xu Mo stretched out his fingers to smooth my frowning brows, and smiled a little happier than before.

Xu Mo: It is as expected.

Seeing me looking at him a little puzzled, Xu Mo smiled and fed me a piece of French fries, and continued to speak.

Xu Mo: Several times, when I ate sandwiches from this restaurant, I wondered how you would react if you came here and ate the same food as me.

Xu Mo: When you taste the taste, you will definitely hesitate to say it bluntly.

Xu Mo: You will definitely tell me after listening to my reasons for choosing it, to eat well and take care of yourself.

Xu Mo: My guess was not wrong.

MC: Hm....

MC: Why do you think of me at this time?

Xu Mo: When you encounter all kinds of things, you will always share with me

Xu Mo: Every time I receive a message from you and learn about every bit of your life, I am very happy.

Xu Mo: Of course I would want to do the same thing.

Xu Mo: Rather, it is the most normal thing to unconsciously think of the people you care about in every bit of your life.

Xu Mo's tone was light.

This is indeed an ordinary thing.

But this kind of thing, being said so bluntly and seriously by him, still makes my cheeks hot.

MC: You, why don't you hurry up and try other foods?

MC: This pizza looks delicious. Would you like to try it?

As if to conceal my feeling of making a fuss about "normal things", my body has already taken a step before my reaction.

(karma CG included)

I picked up the pizza just baked and handed it to Xu Mo.

MC: Is it a sweet pizza that you haven't tried before, try it?

Xu Mo didn't take the pizza I handed over, but just bent down and bit the tip of the pizza.

His snort rubbed my fingers, it was warm and a touch of humidity.

The reduced distance is like a switch that flashes a similar scene in my mind.

Xu Mo: is good?

Xu Mo who bit the pizza opened his eyes slightly.

MC: Is the pizza with cheese, blueberry and honey taste too weird?

I looked at Xu Mo's face and tried to find the answer in his expression.

Xu Mo moved closer to my side and bit off the cheese.

Probably the pizza that was just out of the oven was still a little hot, Xu Mo didn't speak immediately, but motioned for me to try it too.

MC: It is good!

On the first bite of the pizza, I also opened my eyes wide and nodded to Xu Mo frequently.

MC: it's nice!

MC: Unexpectedly, there is such a delicious thing hidden in a place so close to the research center!

The little beauty and surprise that I suddenly found, the joy that I shared with my favorite person the first time...

The scent of blueberries and the sweet taste of honey are intertwined, and the heart is full of satisfaction.

Xu Mo: It seems that I am too underestimated and I am too used to this restaurant.

MC: Coming with you today is really rewarding!

Xu Mo: Indeed it is.

As Xu Mo said, he picked up another slice of pizza and handed it to me, his eyes were softer than the lemon-colored sunlight outside the window.

Xu Mo: Even if I'm very familiar with the things I am used to, when I'm with you, it will always be different.

Xu Mo: It seems that as long as I look at you, I won't miss all the beautiful things.

Xu Mo's voice is still so faint, with some warmth and softness in the heart.

MC: In the future, I will continue to work hard to discover the little beauty in life.

MC: So Professor Xu will continue to rest assured with me.

He did not speak any more, just smile and stretch out his finger and wiped the corners of my mouth.

There have been many times when he used the same tone and tone to explain a certain theory and a certain truth for me.

Just now, he told me more facts about himself.

Small, ordinary facts have not been verified by large sections of papers, nor are they new discoveries that shock the world.

But it is absolutely correct and constant like any other law that constructs this world.

It was enough to make my heart beat faster than usual.

--- END ---

I’m sorry if there’s some mistranslation. Kindly tell me if you found some :) thank you for read it~ ^^

#mlqc spoilers #mlqc translation #mr love spoilers #mr love translation #mlqc lucien #mlqc xu mo #mr love lucien #mr love xu mo #mr love date #mldd date #mldd lucien #mldd translation #MLQC

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